#Taunts them about going easy on him because they were so distracted by his hot looks or something

[some-pers0n]

"All of the mercs would be homophobic and racist" NO THEY WOULDN'T!! You mean to tell me that nine mentally ill hired killers, all of which coming from a game that's hellbent on taking old and tired tropes and cliches and subverting them in new and funny ways, would just be generic bigoted people because of the time period??? My guy WHAT!?

[teyums]

Twin Flames pt. 2

pairing: Ao’nung -> Neteyam x fem!metkayina reader

contains: angst with underlying fluff, melancholy ending. ao’nung and reader are 19, neteyam is 20

a/n: here is the well awaited part 2! i pretty much wrapped it up with the ending. my apologies to the ao’nung girlies if i break your heart with this 😅 i hope y’all enjoy wc: 3,219

Twin Flames. A love so fierce among two souls it’d be impractical to think you could come out unscathed. And while you and Ao’nung were written in the stars— stars burn out and fate can be revised.

Love hurts, that’s the truth of it all. You sign away the rights to your heart when you blindly take that plunge into a realm of whirlwinded emotions, because the reward is always worth the risk.

Ao’nung could sit here and say moments blurred into days, days into weeks, and so on. But the statement would be a bold faced lie, a lie he would much rather have been living over what he was experiencing now, because absolutely nothing blurred together. It was all painfully, crystal clear.

Each day he endures your absence from his life stretches the full, dreaded twenty four hours. Every grueling hour, every painstaking minute, every enervating second leaves him mercilessly aware of just how badly he’s screwed things up with you.

And he stalks around the village like an idiot, misplaced and hopeless, looking in every nook and cranny you might have tucked yourself away in to no avail. It’s like you’ve completely disappeared into thin air. Either that, or you’re really good at avoiding him.

He’d seen you in glimpses, evanescent moments where he’s left thinking he must have imagined your face, because in the blink of an eye, you’re gone. Just as quickly as you come, you go, like the shells the sea leaves upon the shoreline, only to steal them back into the taunting waters that laugh at your failed attempt to rush and grab them before they’re lured back into the deep.

He recognizes now, just how extensive the consequences of his actions are. It’s when he stalks back to his Mauri, a slight stagger in his stride due to the longevity of the day’s training. His father took no interest in going easy on him, probably due to how distracted he seemed the entirety of the lesson.

The centers of targets went untouched by the point of his spear because it fell short every time he plunged it through the air. Hot sand enveloped the discarded tool in a blanket of gold when he chucked it down out of frustration and he’s so fucking tired of this.

In the midst of his exhaustion, his mind plays a cruel trick on him. Makes him think that he’s trudging all the way home to meet your bright smile and warm embrace, until reality hits him like a relentless, angered wave of accountability and almost has his knees buckling. Of course you’re not there, how foolish of him to think you’d forget about what he did and throw yourself right back into the crossfire of his confliction.

It’s pathetic. How he lays in his bed at night, alone, defeated, kept up with the never ceasing memory of how hard he made you cry that day. How he swore he could feel the shards of what once was the shell of your being scrape his skin as it slipped through his fingers and into nothingness before him. He desperately tried to hold onto them, tried to put your pieces back together, but you wouldn’t even let him do that. You scooped up the broken remnants of your heart and took them with you. Couldn’t you have let him keep just one?

He stares across his moonlit room at the shelf on his wall. Particularly at the disheveled accessory that sits atop it, mocking him in the way it’s gone unworn. Slightly misshapen from how tightly your hand had clenched around it, your indignation molded into the crumpled fabric. The gift haunts him, reminds him of the day he wishes he could take back but he can’t bring himself to get rid of it. It’s all he has left of you and your scent still lingers on the leather, though It’s fading, slowly.

He wonders how you’re doing, how you’re handling the whispers that float through the air of you being the latest victim of his immaturity. How he aches to comfort you, to tell you that you were so much more to him than another thoughtless mistake, more than a cheap rendezvous. It angers him, rocks his core with something fierce the way people talk about what happened like it’s their latest gossip. But who is he to blame but himself?

Any other time, or any other girl, rather, he would have been laughing right alongside the talebearers. Shrugging in a disgustingly nonchalant manner and blaming whatever poor soul he’d wronged for her own heartbreak because she knew what she was getting into when she got with him.

It’s why it hurts so bad. Because even while you managed to uproot a gentle side to him no one else had before, somehow he still found a way to hurt you, and even worse than the others at that.

How did he fuck up this badly?

_____

A month has passed and he wishes he would have lost count by now. Everyday without you is excruciating. He had no idea he could miss someone to this extent and it’s why he’s sat by himself on the shore, watching the waves crash against the waiting rocks, elbows resting upon his perched knees with his forearms hung limp between them. And like usual, his ears perk up at the sound of your name in a conversation that has nothing to do with him.

“So, Y/n, huh?” A voice chuckles.

He’s instantly on alert, all because your name rolls from a male’s tongue a little too freely. His spine straightens and his throat clears as he wills his body to remain calm at the simple mention of you.

“Yeah, man. I haven’t seen them together in a while, not sure what happened but I’m pretty sure it’s over. My rites are next week, and I’ll definitely pass. I’m thinking of asking her for her hand.”

Ao’nung nearly recoils and he’s up on his feet in seconds. The thought of you with someone else has his mind in a frenzy. Everything is a blur, the shouting of those around to witness is muted when his fist comes in contact with the poor na’vi’s nose and he’s hissing down at him in a fit of unrefined rage as if he even has the right.

“She’s spoken for.”

_____

Though his failed attempts proved to be fruitless— Ao’nung was somehow still confident enough, or maybe deep enough in denial to believe that eventually, you’d come around. That in due time, the memories of his mistake would trickle from your mind and you’d fall into him again.

But then, the tide changes.

Strange na’vi come swooping in on unfamiliar looking animals, drawing up a crowd of alarmed villagers with their arrival. Men shield their mates from the potential threat, and mothers scoop their children up off their feet and into protective arms while weapons are quickly gathered in preparation.

The screeches of the large birds split through the air and ring uncomfortably in Ao’nung’s ears, but still, he starts towards the direction of the disruption. The dark blue na’vi land on the wet sand of the shores, slender bodies lacking of weapons and hands outstretched to propose vulnerability, ensuring that they come in peace.

There’s six of them. The father, he assumes, the mother, a small girl who’s quickly gathered by her mother’s curt demand, a strange looking female who nervously cowers into her shawl behind them, and two boys.

Their tails are odd, lithe and silly in the way they swish back and forth with uncertainty. A tuft of hair decorates the ends and Ao’nung’s face crinkles in disapproval, but for some reason, you’re intrigued.

It’s the first time he’s really seen you in weeks. All of you, no longer hidden by your desire to avoid him. And somehow, you’re even more beautiful than when he’d last seen you, eyes beady, sparkling and round with interest and he prays you’ll look in his direction, but you don’t. You stand with the rest of the crowd, hands folded behind your back while you eye the strange looking newcomers and Eywa he just wants to hold you again. It’s hard to focus on the invasion of foreigners to his land, because all he can think about is you.

The younger one has already expressed interest and introduced himself to Tsireya with an upwards nod of his head, and she’s a giggling mess beside you, so Ao’nung assumes it must be the eldest brother you’re watching so intently. The armor he wears resembles his father’s, but there’s an obvious difference between their status as he quietly stands behind the man negotiating. Toruk Makto, he comes to find out, or what he calls himself—Jakesully.

Ao’nung isn’t even listening to the conversation his father is having right beside him, because you laugh and his ear turns in its direction, then his head follows. That sweet, sweet laugh. It should’ve melted his heart, like it always did, but instead it makes it freeze over and sends a chill prickling up his spine, because you’re not looking at him.

You couldn’t help your curiosity.

Contrary to Tsireya’s advice, you’d reached out and touched the fluff of the eldest brother’s tail, because everything about him was so different from you and you had a hard time believing he was real. His markings resembled stripes, yours waves. His hair neatly plaited, yours loose. He’s very, very composed, hands politely clasped together in front of him, head raised confidently but not arrogantly and you don’t know why, but you like that. His physique is lean, carved and sculpted to reveal tight muscles that of a warrior. He’s taller than Ao’nung, and much taller than you.

It made you giggle, how his tail seemed to be the most animated part of his dignified, soldier-like disposition, because it hurriedly curled around his small waist with a mind of its own and away from your gentle finger the moment you made contact. The Metkayina boy felt his stomach curdle and bubble with jealousy at your genuine infatuation with this stranger.

The eldest’s braids sway over his shoulders with the movement of his head whipping around, wooden beads clacking against each other while his intense, aureate eyes attempt to locate the culprit of the intrusion. They miss you completely and glance right over your head, but when his chin meets his chest to return his attention to the Olo’eyktans’ conversation, that’s when they find you, and take time to trail down your form. And they keep you, and don’t let you go for a long, spark-filled moment, your big blue eyes peering up into his amber ones that twinkle with newfound interest. You’re shorter than the girls he’s used to, your body plump and soft in the areas Omaticayan women are slender. The boy’s never seen someone quite like you before, that’s clear in the way his brow bone raises.

You looked apprehensive for a beat, smile faltering due to the searing, unintentionally intimidating gaze this man has on you while he examines your person, and Ao’nung’s foot moves to approach, ready to protect his long lost love from this bizarre na’vi— this intruder.

But then, the boy’s hardened mask crumbles, bioluminescent freckles emit a soft glow against dark blue, and he smiles at you, more than willing to look past your curiosity. Your cheeks flush amaranth when you return his grin, the same way they would when you used to look into his eyes.

It was in that moment, Ao’nung felt his heart split into four, as it’d already been severed in half long before this.

____

You make him feel welcome. Neteyam, that is. He occupies the early hours of your day, meets you at your Mauri every morning with a basket of your favorite fruits as a thank you for helping train him and his siblings, because he’s just not satisfied with being anything less than perfect. And it’s like you’ve completely forgotten about your past in the way you beam and pull him along the netted path by his hand, effervescent in the way you bounce along, insistent and thrilled to show him all the parts of your home— his new home.

And he trails behind you with the goofiest smile, because Neteyam would follow you anywhere. He made this known to you from the start and that was something you craved—the solidity of it all. Assurance. The security in something real.

He’s sweet to you, Ao’nung knows he is, because after just a month of these forest freaks living in the village, he notices unfamiliar trinkets begin to adorn your stature.

You now keep a few long braids in your hair, one on either side of your face, and two in the back, you’ve never done that before. You always claimed you liked your hair loose like the waves of the sea you loved so— untamed like the light of your spirit. But your undeniable pull to the man of the forest has you compromising.

There’s a stack of unfamiliar beads looped on the ends of each of them, and surely they’re not made with a material collected from the reef. They’re wooden and polished, embellished with painted markings he doesn’t recognize. You’ve never worn those before.

Ao’nung waits for this fling to pass. But then, the second month goes by, and then another, until he realizes that you’ve moved on. Of course you have. Why shouldn’t you? It’s not like you hadn’t found him cozied up with another girl, cooing the same promises he’d kissed onto your skin into the ear of another, as if he hadn’t been telling you for nights on end that he wanted to make you his mate. What a beautiful lie, and if only you’d known it was the truth.

You like Neteyam, because he’s gentle. He’s kind, and thoughtful, and cares for others more than he cares for himself. He makes you feel seen, and safe. Valued. You make him feel heard, and appreciated. Relaxed. Things the both of you have apparently lacked the majority of your young lives.

It’s easy with him, because you never have to worry about his eyes lingering elsewhere or his attention wandering. He’s so smitten with you and you’re so enamored with him, and it’s all so consuming that you don’t know what else to do other than rave about it from the cliff tops to prevent your heart from bursting with the premature promise of forever and scaring him off, little do you know he wants it more than you do.

Neteyam makes you feel whole, and gorgeous in all aspects of your being, not just beautiful because of what he sees on the outside. He’s in love with your soul, in a way you never thought a man could be, but only because you’d never been told.

You’re his only one, and in every breath he takes he makes sure this is known. He boasts about you to his parents and siblings and the friends he’s managed to make in the village whenever he gets the chance. And with slender fingers, he’s much more skilled at Ao’nung at this jewelry making thing, because damn near every week there’s a shiny new prospect of Neteyam’s love and appreciation strung around your neck in pretty beads and shells that have you squealing and jumping into his waiting arms as if he’s proposed.

It’s something you’d always told Ao’nung you wanted, a token of his appreciation in the form of something you could hold, something you could keep close to your heart for years to come. Something he never got around to doing because he insisted to himself that it’d push him off the deep end and into the tumultuous waters of loving you, unknown to the fact that he needed no one to help him do that but himself.

You feel like a princess everyday because Neteyam tells you that you are one. And he doesn’t just tell you, he treats you as such, too.

Sun kissed jewels from the high depths only a skilled climber can reach dress your wrist, like they were made for you. They match your eyes and you wear them like it’s your second skin because you almost cried when he gave them to you, paired with a confession of his love and Ao’nung wishes he’d thought of it first.

It makes him sick. All he hears around the grapevine is how you’ve never looked this happy. How you have an unmistakable glow to you, a pep in your step due to the golden boy who’s somehow won the hearts of the people in Awa’atlu in his short time here, just as he had done with his own people back home.

How a weightlessness clings to your answers when your friends ask how you and the forest boy are getting along, because it’s nothing less than a dream come true.

It’s a stupid question, the answer is so painfully obvious that it has Ao’nung wanting to rip his hair out.

Neteyam looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in his sky, like the sun rises in your irises though he knows the blazing star is much too hot to be the color blue. He holds onto you in public, proudly, without shame or fear that others might see, because he’s just so blessed to call you his.

He’d even passed his rites to cement that, the first out of his siblings to do so, and it’s no surprise that he chose one of the most extensive designs for his tattoo. You were right there, holding his hand as he sat through the entire session with no breaks, all to prove to you how strong of a warrior he was. Though the black ink etched along the side of his hip that stretches all the way down to his ankle is more than enough proof of that. And as if to rub seasalt into the wound, he’d even tamed Tsurak (Skimwing) on his first try, because he excels in everything he does, yet the man shows you off as if you’re his biggest accomplishment.

Because you are, and you should be. Ao’nung just hates that it isn’t him in his spot.

____

He shouldn’t have asked.

But you and Tsireya are close friends and he just wanted his mind to shut up with the endless scenarios it creates on loop when he’s trying to sleep at night. He just wanted to know if it was as serious as it looked, and his foolish heart really hoped it wasn’t. So every time Tsireya returned home from the daily training sessions with you and the other Sully’s, he was the first to meet her at the entrance, prying her for more information on you and the one who’d taken his place.

“Tell me,” He demands of his younger sister. It’s a look she’s never seen in his eyes before— desperation. “Does she love him?” He breathes, grasping on to the last bit of hope he has left.

She sighs, plucking her bicep from his soft hold with a gentle shake of her head. “Ask her yourself, Ao’nung. This is no longer my place, I will not get in the middle of your messes.”

“I can’t ask her, ‘Reya, you know that.” He pleads with her, “She won’t even look at me anymore. Please, just tell me.”

Her eyes meet his, looking between them and he can feel the disappointment radiating off her demeanor because she knows what he’s done. She knows you and Neteyam have plans to make your bond official, and she knows it’s far too late for her brother to fix things.

“Do you want her to be happy?”

Ao’nung hesitates at the question, but nods nonetheless. His answer is complicated, there’s layers to it. He wants you back, because he wants you to be happy, and you were always happy when you were with him. At least, you used to be, so maybe things could go back to the way they were if he tried hard enough.

But all hope dwindles like a candle snuffed with wet fingers when he hears the truth he’s been avoiding.

“Then let her go.”

part one

Likes + Reblogs + Comments are much appreciated! 💗

tag list based on the comments on part one ⬇️

@ako-gamboge @yaya6765 @yourusername1 @melllinaa @eitaababe

[poppy-metal]

"The first time you hear Izuku moan your name, its with you hiding on the other side of his closet door, your hand clapped over your mouth in shock.”

A/N: im placing this before the sexual side of their relationship begins. A prelude of sorts, if you will.

Cw: voyeurism, smut, dekus secretly dirty mouth.

All things considered izuku’s room was...not as gross as you expected a staple college aged guys dorm room to be. It was cluttered but not disgusting, posters of comics and figurines and manga and some clothes strewn about, everything kind of frenzied and haphazard. It was so incredibly deku, a secret smile pulled at your lips, even though your reasons for being here were less than innocent

He’s wearing fucking pink. Because of course he is, of course izuku is humble and comfortable in his masculinity enough to pull off a bright pink t-shirt. It hugs his chest too, and you have to wonder if literally any of his clothes fit him and the tits he decided to grow in college. His image is so utterly imposing, his smile so bright, and laugh so airy, it sends butterflies flipping through your stomach at just the sight of him and that makes you want to vomit. Your lips curl in a sneer and you’re walking towards him and the group of friends he’s talking to as if on reflex. 

Stupid, lovely deku. You knock your shoulder into his as you pass, hard enough that his books clatter and fall to the floor, scattering. And then those green eyes are on you, giving you his attention and your body feels alive, your blood cells buzzing under your skin even as he frowns. The dimples on his freckled face fall as he takes you in. Yes, you think, look at me, see me, want me. 

Out loud you say. “Watch where you’re going, stupid deku” and you’re looking at him like he’s the dirt under your shoe. He’s not. He’s the center of your universe. Your world tilts around his axis. “Pink isn’t your fucking color by the way”. it is. 

Izuku huffs. He’s past the point where he used to turn as red as a tomato and duck his head whenever you stood in front of him, but he’s still deku at the end of the day. An easy target. “If looking at me bothers you so much you could just ignore me.” He crouches down to pick up his things. His words make you itch, if you could ignore him, you wouldn’t fucking be here. Its because he exists too much, that you want to push him down so much. 

You step your manicured foot onto his notebook right as he’s about to grab it. He tugs at it, you dont budge, and he looks up at you, exasperated. “Can i have my notebook, please?” 

Why is he so fucking pretty? God, you want to throw up. You dig your heel in further, covering the flutter you feel in your chest with a practiced sneer. “I like the way you say please, deku.” You lean down a little, “Say ‘your highness’ and i’ll move” 

It’s a thrill, seeing the way his jaw sets, his brow furrows, his eyes go annoyed. Sweet, sweet, friendly izuku. You’re the only one he looks at like this, like he wants to throttle you. But he won’t. You see his adams apple bob, his cheeks dust pink, even as he glares. “No” 

You pause. It’s not the first time he’s gotten snippy with you, but the conviction behind it is new. You feel something in your stomach give a jump, your blood thrumming in your ears. You jerk your foot towards you, sliding his notebook out from his hands and standing completely on top of it with both your feet now. Your sticky lips, glossy and plump, spread into a mocking grin, “No? Do i need to slam you into some lockers and take you lunch money?” You feel a thousand feet tall, towering above him still kneeling, you on the high ground, looking down at him below you, where he can’t reach you. Can’t ever see the truth. “C’mon pansy, you’re already on your knees anyway” 

But he isn’t anymore. He jerks to a stand, and now he’s taller than you, but you puff your chest out, not letting that affect you. It always affects you. Not that he knows or ever notices. Your eyes are widening when he steps forward so you’re practically nose to nose and chest to chest. “I don’t have time for you” he snaps, irritated. And then he’s stepping away as suddenly as he stepped up, the rest of his things gathered in his arms, he shakes his head at you, a tendril of that mossy mousey hair falling into his eyes. “I gotta get to class” 

And then he’s gone, brushing by you, disengaging. You stand there, your breath stuck in your chest, not moving. ‘I dont have time for you’ over and over again rings through your head like a mantra. You step off his notebook robotically and kick it across the floor. It bangs against a wall and you feel your fists clench, nail beds digging into your palms harshly. ‘I dont have time for you’ 

You turn on your heel, away from the direction of your class, fury blinding you. Anger in place of humiliation, vindication in place of being humbled. You don’t know what crawled up his ass and made him think he was above you all the sudden, but you weren’t having it, not the fuck at all. 

And that’s how you found yourself snooping through izukus dorm, with the intention of finding some kind of dirt, or something to hold over his stupid head. He didn’t have time for you? How dare he act like he was better than you, like he had things more important to do than to indulge you. You were still so mad you wanted to throw a tantrum, kick and scream and claw his eyes out. Straddle his stupid broad waist and shake him until all he saw was you, you, you. 

You really hated him. Hated that because of him you were basically a bully because any attention from him was attention you thrived and lived under. Maybe if you weren’t so prideful, so disgusted by the weakness of your own gooey emotions for him, you would have tried to be the center of his attention in a nicer way, but as it was you were in too deep. This was the sick game you played, and losing wasn’t an option. 

You hated how much that made you similar to bakugou in a way. You didn’t like that guy, and even weirdly so, you wanted to gouge his fucking eyes out for the way he treated and talked to izuku. Was it jealousy or possesivness that drove you to want to be the only one who could rile izuku? You wondered, sometimes, if bakugou felt the same way about you. 

It was the loss of control, for you. Better yet, it was the way you liked the loss of that control. You had always prided yourself on being strong willed and a perfectionist. But whenever your eyes so much as grazed izukus, all your emotions went rattling around your stomach in sick twisted ways, giving you goosebumps, making you...nervous. It was a crush that had turned into an obsession, wasn’t it? And you wanted to make izuku suffer not only for invoking those messy feelings, but for not seeming to return them as well. If he couldn’t love you or want you romantically or sexually, you’d force yourself onto his radar and into his head until thinking about anyone else was impossible. Until you squirmed under his skin as much as he squirmed under yours. 

Acting like you didnt exist was unacceptable. Obviously you’d slacked off on your taunts and actions, if he could just brush past you so easily, not taking your bait. You needed to even the playing field again, and by even you meant you needed to be towering above him again. 

Towering over him so you dont have the time to think about how much you want to be under him, your mind whispers at you as you pick through his room, trying to find anything incripting. Someone like izuku would probably have something utterly embarrassing like a diary or some weird porn magazines, shameless, helpless guy that he was. 

You huff as you open his drawer next to his bedside, nearly slamming it back shut in shock at what you see there. 

You’re not stupid. You’re a healthy, young woman with an active sexual imagination and access to the world wide web, to porn. 

Izuku has a fleshlight in his drawer. Izuku has a sexytoy. Izuku. And its green. 

Izuku has a sex toy that he probably uses. That he probably sticks his cock into and moves- 

An absurd laugh barks out of you, shocked and helpless. Because while in your head you knew izuku had to be some kind pervert, what other explanation was there for the way he blushed and darted his gaze around like a ping pong ball whenever you leaned forward and get caught a glimpse under your blouse, this is...unexpected. Imagining izuku in explicit scenarios, doing lewd things, it was something you didn’t allow your mind to wonder to often over. You didn’t like the way you got all squirmy and meek whenever you thought too long about izuku without clothes. 

You feel kind of squirmy now, hot and uncomfortable as you shift around and try to gather your wits back about you. Revenge, that’s what you’re here for. 

With a shaky exhale you turn away from his dresser, your thoughts flitting around your head like annoying gnats. What, who, does he think about when he…? What does he look like? What does his...c- You shake your head, slap your cheeks, trying to center yourself from the images floating around, flustering you and distracting you. 

You’re in the middle of lifting the covers on his bed to peek under it, see if there’s anything there, when you hear the handle on his door jiggle. You freeze, every muscle in your body locked frozen like a deer in headlights as the knob twists, and then catches. Right. You’d picked the lock with one of your hair clips and then made sure to lock it again behind you just in case something like this happened. And by the, “Ugh” on the other side of the door, yep that’s definitely izuku. You’re shoved out of your shocked state, and bolting for his closet door as you hear the jingle of his keys twist in the lock, trying your best to close the door as quietly as possible behind you, it swishing shut barely a second before the door to his dorm opens and you hear him step in. 

Class must have let out early or something, you think huffily, gently rearranging yourself into a comfortable position on a pile of his clothes as he shuffles around his room. You hear the thumb of him dropping his books, the shuffle of his feet, the clutter of him taking off his shoes and the squeak of his mattress as he plops down on it. 

You tuck your knees to your chest and roll your eyes, picking at your leggings as you wonder how long you’ll have to hide before he goes to the bathroom or something so you can leave. It’s fucking stuffy in his closet already, the air hot. Your hand touches the soft fabric beneath you, realizing you’re sitting on one of his hoodies. Its too dark to see which one it is, but you imagine it as your favorite red one. Maybe you’d steal it as compensation for him making you sit and wait in his dumb closet while he probably stared at the ceiling with no thoughts in his dumb brain.

You hear him sigh, loud and dramatic, and then a muffled scream/groan into his pillow. Your lips twitch, he’s such a fucking drama queen. 

Your little smile drops off your face when you hear the sound of his drawer opening.  

Oh god. Oh no. 

Your face feels like there are embers burning under it as you hear the unmistakable sound of clothes being shucked, a zipper and and then flop, and then….a slick wet sound and a sigh of relief. 

Your eyes feel like they are bugging out of your head. Izuku is really about to fuck his fleshlight with you hiding in his closet with him none the wiser. You feel suddenly embarrassed and hot all over, hiding your face in your knees as you hear him let out a moan. A loud one. 

You’re on fire, every part of you. You don’t think you can take this, don’t think you can sit through this and listen to this, think you should just burst out of his closet and use your bravado to somehow flip the situation and make him feel humiliated for getting off in the privacy of his own room, like he’s in the wrong even though you had violated so many boundaries for even being here right now. 

You could do it too, you know. You’re good at twisting things, at powering through the complicated mess of flustered feelings izuku makes you feel and making it his fault, making him back down and cower. You could do it...you’re uncurling your legs and pushing your hands under you in the middle of getting up to do so when- 

“Fuck. ___” Your name. You freeze, for an unholy, goldy second you think you’ve been caught, that he has acquired x-ray vision and has spotted you but no. His voice isn’t surprised or upset its...breathless, airy. He moaned it. 

The first time you hear Izuku moan your name, its with you hiding on the other side of his closet door, your hand clapped over your mouth in shock.

Heat immediately shoots between your legs, your core throbbing unbidden in reflex to the sound, helpless to stop it, to have any other reaction. Your ass plops right back down. You turn slightly towards the door, pressing your side against it, your ear smooshed against the cool wood as you listen, as if drawn under a spell. 

“You’re such…” You hear izuku pant, his voice deeper and more rough then you’ve ever heard it before. “A fucking brat” 

Wet between your legs, seeping through your panties at his words, seemingly ripped out of him. God, he sounds pissed, wrecked. He cursed. You’ve never heard izuku curse before, never, even when you’d pushed him too far. Something really was different about today. 

The slick sounds are more frequent now, steady and...and sounding like real sex you’d heard from porn before. Wet, sloppy, and slapping. Your knees knock together as you lean forward even more. There’s an invisible string pulling, tugging you forward, you want to see…

“Fucking slut” He grunts, and there’s a heavy slap, your breath catching in your fucking throat as you realize that...that must be the clap of his balls hitting the back of his fleshlight everytime he thrusts into it. “Always running your fucking mouth, looking down at me, so mean, you’re so fucking mean to me…uh..” 

The sounds of sex fill the room and you can’t take it anymore, you’re burning, burning, burning, fuck the consequnces. You hesitantly and slowly turn the handle of the closet door, letting it slide open just a crack, enough for you to peek through, to get a glimpse.

His lean muscular back is the first thing you see, he’s facing directly away from his closet, thank god but oh god, that means you see..so much. The flex of his shoulder blades under his tan skin, the smattering of freckles over his shoulder, the long slender slope of his spine as it curves down his broad back, the dimbles at the bottom of his spine, flexing as he fucks his toy. His ass, because of course izuku would have a perfect round bubble butt. There are freckles there too. 

Your eyes skate down, hungry to his large and heavy balls, low hanging and full, currently smacked right up against the base of the little pocket pussy he’s practically straddling on his bed. 

It hits you again than, that deku is imagining that toy is you, he’s imagining fucking you in this position on his bed right now, imagining its your cunt hes pounding into, and your face he’s spitting those filthy words at. 

Your hand is really moving without your permission when it slips under the band of your leggings into your panties, fingers immediately dipping between the slick folds of your pussy, silky and wet. 

“-Wet” Izuku grunts, as you dip a finger just barely inside. “Fuck, i knew you’d be so fucking soft and good inside. Such a bratty girl would have a sweet cunt attached to her, huh?” 

Fuck, where and when did izuku start speaking like this? His soft voice curling around such crude words is making you gush all over your fingers. You wish you could see the kind of face he was making when he said them. 

“Yeah, you like taking my cock don’t you, baby?” He croons and if you close your eyes you can almost imagine he’s speaking directly into your ear, behind you. His thrusts get heavier, rougher, he lifts his leg up on the bed and you see a flash of the little green toy being fucked on his cock, big and angry looking. He’s being so brutal, hammering the thing down on his dick as he hips rut to meet every downward tug. “Milk it. Milk my fucking cock you whore. Wanna- fuck, wanna hear you say my name when you cum, want you to know who’s pouding that little pussy. The loser you fucking hate, yeah? Gonna cum for me?”

Yes, you whimper in your head in answer to him, your fingers curling deep, deep, inside, fucking yourself on them in earnest. He’s so big and you only caught a glimpse, but it was enough. Enough to know he’d fucking cleave you apart if he tried to fit that monster between his legs inside your tight little pussy. But you want it, god you fucking want it. You wanna feel him splitting you open, making you cream around him, making you beg for it. Making you bleed. 

“One of these day” he says, his voice breathless but steady, even as it cracks. You know he’s close. “I’m gonna fucking snap. Im going to make you look me in the fucking eye and apologize for making me want you, and then im going to split that pussy open- fuck, im coming, fuck, fuck, fuck. Do you understand, b-bitch? Gonna fucking make you mine, yeah, take it, take your senpais cock you dirty fucking girl, ah!” 

He slumps forward, hips humping into the toy and balls spasming as he pumps it full of his cum, shuddering deeply with little aborted whimpers. “Good girl, good girl” he pants, trailing off, giving one last little jerk of his hips before stilling. 

You bite your lip so hard you draw blood to stop yourself from whimpering out loud. You pull your sticky fingers out of your cunt and shuffle back into the dark of the closet, curling in on yourself as izuku lays there, panting heavily for a few moments before moving. 

You stay stock still as you hear him get up and shuffle around, his footsteps padding into the bathroom where you hear the door click softly shut. You spring up to your feet and don’t care if you make noise as you dart out of his room and into the hallway, sprinting like a bat out of hell as you make you way to the girls dorms.

You’ll think about how to reevaluate and recoup later. Right now you just really need to get to your bed so you can rut pathetically onto your own fingers and imagine izukus fat dick breaking you open. Never in a million years did you think he had those kinds of feelings for you, and you know it changes the whole game, is a whole other level of playing field where you now know he wants you on a physical level. 

You feel powerless and lie you’re slipping again, don’t know how you’re going to point your finger at him and laugh when you know for every insult you throw his way, is another way hes fucking his toy at night, adding it as another thing to get you back for. If he ever snaps. 

If. you want it to be a when, so bad, not an if. 

You’ll make it a when. You’ll push him off the metaphorical cliff he’s teetering on to make it so. 

. 

[33roda]

Kaeya X Dom!Reader <3

tags: tiddy sucking (m!receiving), butt fingering, (m!receiving), brat taming kinda, gn!reader I think !!

____________________________________

Yet another exhausting Abyss Order attack, finally over with.

It was a quite difficult one at that, having required a whole army of knights at the gates of Mondstadt, so Kaeya invited the team to a drink at Angel's Share, out of all places. Even after all the energy that used up, he's still in the mood for drinks?

Well, that didn't matter anyway, because either way, you would've been forced to go either by Kaeya or by Lisa. You sat quietly next to Kaeya, listening to him chat with the other knights.

"Ah, another success.. Of course, we couldn't have done it without our Honorary Knight here," he chatted, sounding as sarcastic as ever. "You truly are a new storm after all."

He rested his hand on your shoulder while holding up his third glass of sparkling wine of the night, chuckling at how Amber was already tipsy after one sip of beer. Jean held her up, furrowing her eyebrows tightly, looking for where Lisa went. Probably off to flirt with the new naive bartender. Everyone's enjoying their time here while she had to babysit Amber and Lisa?

"Of course, Y/N. It is truly an honor to celebrate this with our new Honorary Knight." she stumbled as she continued holding up Amber and wiping her drool with napkins, her slurring drowned out by the noises in the background. You let out a polite smile, showing your appreciation to everyone on the table.

"Thank you, Grand Master. It was a pleasure working with you today." The table was awkward. Too formal, too stiff, but Kaeya didn't seem to mind it, just smirking and slowly sipping on his wine. You almost started wondering and fantasizing about when it'd be time to leave, but as soon as you thought of that, you felt Kaeya's hand slide off your shoulder and started gently caressing your thighs. Ah, expected. Of course there had to be an ulterior motive to his invitation, not that you minded. Taking advantage of the loud, distracting chatter in the background, he ducked his head next to your ear just enough so you could feel his hot breath against it.

"You sure look bored, Y/N. Quite rude of you to not respect etiquette," he whispered against your ear and chuckled. "I have something more fun for you later. Meet me outside the bar once the rest leave."

Ha. Finally, something interesting this night. You had nothing to lose anyway, so why not entertain his request? his actions motivating you to just get the night over with, you try to be more friendly with Jean to lessen the tenseness in the air, her unaware of the touching and groping exchanged between you and Kaeya underneath the table.

Lisa would never seem to return, and Jean eventually got tired of the Outrider hiccuping and slurring on her words next to her, deciding it was best for everyone to just go home. Exchanging goodbyes to everyone, Kaeya escorted them outside, looking back and shooting you a wink and a smug smile before leaving the tavern. Oh what you'd do to wipe that smug smile off his face, and you'd be sure to do just that tonight. You started packing up your stuff, taking your sweet time with it, thinking about how you're keeping The Cavalry Captain waiting. You can already picture how he'll be squirming and begging to be touched.. What a pretty sight, you thought, as you exit the tavern door to be greeted with silence for a second; then the husky voice of a grumpy-looking Kaeya.

"Took ya long enough, Honorary Knight," he raised an eyebrow, waiting for an excuse or an apology, getting a figurative slap in the face when he got teasing instead.

"Oh, so sorry, Captain, did my touch make you so needy in there you couldn't wait for a few minutes?," you cooed, giving him as much of a smug smile as he was giving you earlier.

"Hm," he scoffed. Resistance? from a new knight like you? that's new. He was known to be irresistible, to both men and women, being all dolled up with his fancy fur and chains. At least he still has you in his hands, he thought.

Thank Barbatos the streets were empty ‒ if anyone saw you leading the Captain to your house in the dead of the night, the rumours would not sound pretty for either of you. But rumours were the least of your concerns, being in your room with Kaeya holding you against the wall and leaning down to whisper in your ear as you twirled his ponytail in your fingers from behind.

"Getting you here was easier than expected, Y/N," he taunted, "I'm starting to think you've wanted this for some time."

"In your dreams," you looked up at him. To be honest, he was a very attractive man - looking down at you with half lidded eyes and that smirk that never seemed to fade. He shot down to kiss you, but it was too early, you thought. He had to earn it. You grabbed his ponytail, forcing him to throw his head back and expose his pretty little neck to you. His eyes going wide as you started tracing circles on his exposed chest - now that was a sight to appreciate. Funny, he's the captain yet his skin felt smooth and silky against your calloused hands.. now you understand why he liked showing it off so bad. Switching hands to grab him by the face, you snickered, "It seems like you've been the one planning this, Sir Kaeya. Actually, how about you let me be your master tonight, hm?"

"You think it's that easy? Insulting of you, Y/N," you raised an eyebrow at the disobedience, even with your hands grabbing his cheeks, his words coming out slurred. Should've expected that from a smug fuck like Kaeya. "Prove yourself to me."

"You really are a brat. Not surprised, honey." you said, letting go of his cheeks and immediately diving into his chest to lick and suck at it, leaving it with red and purple bruises. Sliding your fingers across his wet chest and under his shirt, you flicked his nipple with your thumb before squeezing it, feeling him shudder standing in front of you. "What's wrong? can't handle it? need to lay down?" you didn't even let him finish before shoving him down into the bed, impressing him with your sudden strength. Giggling, you pinned his wrists down next to his head. "Just let me have my fun with those pretty tits of yours." Surprisingly, he didn't complain - instead, he just bit his lip and turned his head to the side, allowing himself to be touched. "Such a good boy, really,"

"Th-this is just a one time thing, Y/N, don't get your hopes up," he stuttered out between little gasps and squirms, "I promise you, I'll be stuffing you full tonigh- ngh!" he choked, feeling you move his shirt to the side and start lapping at his nipple. If he wasn't hard before, he sure as hell is now. Riling him up was easier than expected - although he'd never admit that. You continued nibbling at him, feeling his hardness underneath his pants on your stomach. Poor Kaeya, getting hard just from this?

"Sensitive, are we?" you commented between licks. "No wonder you love showing off your chest so much. Makes me think how you'd like showing the rest of you off?"

"You'd love to see that, huh?" he remained smug.

"Why yes, I would, Captain," you purred. You started unbuckling his belt and stripping him all the way down to his underwear, leaving so much more area for you to lick, kiss, and just ruin. "Such a pillow princess. Are you like this with everyone else?"

"N-no!" he exclaimed, looking insulted. "Just strip me already, Y/N." Honestly, it was pretty funny how he tried to mask his horniness, even with his dick as hard as ever under you, face flushed and breathing heavily.

"I'm not stripping you unless you call me your master. And if you strip yourself," you held up his chin with your fingers, "I'll just leave you here, naked and horny, with no pleasure at all. Your choice, Kaeya."

"Master.. please, please strip me - I need more, anything, please," he sounded like he was about to cry. How adorable, his pride crumbling right before him, all just so he could have your touch..

"Good boy."

You pulled down his tight blue underwear down to his ankles, freeing his oh-so-pretty cock. He was certainly impressive, but unfortunately, his dick would be useless to you tonight. "How pretty," you hummed, tracing every vein with your fingers, feeling every throb. "You want more, don't you? I want to hear you beg for more."

"More, please, I n-need you to touch me master, please," gasping, he tried rutting against your hand, rubbing himself on you, anything - but failing. "I want it so bad,"

Having the Cavalry Captain being your little bitch wasn't so bad after all. Laughing at his little whines and pathetic attempts to get off on your hand, you grabbed him and started pumping gently, watching his reactions in pure amusement. His usually striking eyes shut closed, eyebrows tight, his mouth wide open - it was all a sight to behold. Groans and whimpers filling the room, he continued trying to thrust harder into your hand, chasing his release. But baby, he had no idea the plan was entirely different than he thought.

He really thought it was just a bit of teasing, then you'd make him cum with your hands, or fuck you tight. But you stopped pumping him, leaving him whining and begging for more, a look of pitiful disappointment on his face. It almost made you feel bad.

"It's not gonna be that easy, pretty boy," you slapped his thighs, "legs up for me baby."

"H-huh?" he looked genuinely confused, still in a daze from the sudden disappearance of your hand on his cock. Not letting him waste any time, you lifted his legs all the way up by yourself.

"Can't even take orders?" you smacked his ass, making it jiggle and let out that filthy noise. You were impressed how loud it was, honestly. "What would the other knights think seeing you like this, Kaeya? maybe you want them to hear you get fucked? see you all spread out for your master?" Not even giving him a chance to respond, you shoved your fingers in his mouth, he could only hum little "mmphs" and nods in your direction. "I never knew our Captain would be such a slut," you watched in amusement as he coated your fingers in drool, looking up at you in desperation. "I'll give you exactly what you want." smiling at him, you rubbed your saliva-coated fingers against his hole for a few seconds before shoving a finger in to prep him. He wanted more, evidently, by the way he kept humping down against your finger with hesitant moans.

"Y-You're doing it all wrong," he slipped off your fingers with heavy breaths, "let me show you how it's done, master," You raised an eyebrow, and as soon as you were gonna grab him by his throat and punish him, he spread himself out even further with his hands, looking to get a reaction out of you. It was his first time doing this with someone else, but he's definitely fucked himself in front of a mirror before. Who wouldn't love to watch his body like that, anyway?

Shoving two fingers inside himself, he started looking for his spot, erratically humping the air looking for more stimulation, anything; but the most you'd do is stroke his thighs with a smile on your face, teasing him even further. He was obviously just trying to put on a show for you, make you watch him stretch himself out and look at him make the most erotic faces for you - he'd even make sure the whole of Mondstadt heard him get fucked, as if he wasn't gonna wear your hickeys like an award in front of the other knights tomorrow. Watching him fuck in and out of himself, listening to the filthy noises his ass made; you couldn't help but cross your legs a little. "Do you like it, master?" he whimpered.

"I know what you're doing, prince," you answered, "trying so hard to get more.. such a desperate bitch, don't you think?" he nodded in agreement. "Well, since you've been so good.." turning him over, you pushed his face down into the bed. He was already arching his back for you - his pretty hole all wet and ready to get fucked. "You'll still have to work for it, though," you laughed, hearing him groan in protest into the bed. Gently pushing your digits into him, you ordered, "Fuck yourself on my fingers, Kaeya."

Immediately obeying, he pushed himself back onto your fingers, dick flailing under him, sobbing and begging for you to just fuck him yourself - maybe if he obeyed for a little, you'd finally do it? "Such a good boy. And to think you wanted to fuck me?"

You wouldn't let go until you found his spot, curving your fingers towards his navel, making his legs give out from all the pleasure - the Captain was simply a doll in your hands to play with. Even when his legs gave out, only then would you finally fuck him yourself, his tears staining your bed alongside his cum. Fucking his spot even when your arms got tired, you had to make him cum again. His moans getting more and more high-pitched with every fuck into him, squirming and grinding his ass against you, he finally came again with a throaty moan filling the room. You pulled out of him and gave his ass a quick smack, letting him take his breath before turning over to face you. His cum all over his stomach and chest was a sight to remember, dick twitching, his face blushy and pretty lips open gasping.

Sliding your fingers across his chest, you picked up some of his cum and put it near his mouth, waiting for him to put his tongue out to lick it. He did just that, making eye contact with you, and even holding your wrist in place so he could lick it all up. "Good puppy."

He'll definitely be limping around the other knights tomorrow.. Not that he minded. He'll absolutely be teasing you again at the Knights of Favonious headquarters, anyway.

[lazysimp]

Normal Again /// Bakugou x Fem Reader (18+)

✧Click HERE to read Male version ✧

Rating: Explicit

Summary: A sequel to fine. You never expected recovery to be easy but you never thought it would be nearly impossible. In the weeks since your torture things between you and Bakugou had only grown more strained. Will you be able to save your relationship or is it a lost cause? 

Word count: 8.7k 

Warnings/tags: TW: Self hatred/violence, degradation (not in a sexy way), Angst, Explicit sexual content, Oral sex (giving and receiving), Anal play, She/Her pronouns, All characters are adults, SMUT 18+ Only

masterlist┃AO3

A vicious laugh filled the air as Bakugou’s boot connected with your cheek sending your body flying towards the ground. His deep red eyes were full of glee watching you spit out blood from your busted cheek. He crouched down, looking at you as if you were filth. 

“Look at you,” he sneered. “Just lying there taking it all. You are pathetic, honesty how did I ever see you as more than an easy fuck.” 

“Stop it Bakugou,” you beg weakly. You could not bring yourself to understand how such cruel words could come from the same mouth that used to worship you. 

His boot connects to your head once more sending blinding pain shooting through your skull. “Did you really think you were going to be with me forever? That I would tie myself to someone who can’t even stop themselves from getting kidnapped by a B-ranked villain.” 

His boot rests on your face, its thick rubber sole indenting its print into your cheek. “The only reason I kept you around this whole time was that you spread your legs whenever I wanted. You are easy, too easy and the whole office knows it. They all laugh at you, at how much of a whore you are.” 

Tears begin to leak from your eyes as he brought to light all your insecurities. You would rather he kept beating you than continue to torture you with his taunts. After every night of the same torture you had grown numb to the physical pain but no matter how hard you tried you could not escape his words. 

“If it wasn’t for you I would have already climbed my way to the top. All you can do is hold me back from my dreams with your constant failures. You make me despise you.” 

His heel digs into your temple creating an agonizing inescapable pressure. You were helpless to stop his merciless assault and you were not sure you even wanted to. All you really wanted was for all of this to stop. The constant pain and guilt had worn down your spirit, it was as though you had nothing left to even lose. 

“Look at you just lying there taking it. Why don’t you fight me you pathetic bitch? Why don’t you ever fight?” He screamed, emphasizing each with a blow to your head. You reach up to cover your ears not wanting to hear anything else but your arms were trapped down at your side, held by some invisible force. 

You try again to lift move your arms and then your legs but a warm tight hold tightened even further. Needing to escape the suffocating warmth you thrash around, lashing out at the invisible force. 

“Shh, baby it is ok,” Bakugou said above you his boot still on your head. “This is all just a dream.” 

You slam your eyes closed needing to escape the glaring red eyes that only brought you pain. 

“Mimic is dead and will never hurt you again I promise,” Bakugou’s voice grows closer to your ear. This was your chance! You manage to free one arm and reach up, blindly scratching at any body part you could reach. 

Your nails scream for mercy as you drag them viciously down his arm, their gliding made easy by blood. Despite the pain you know you must have caused, the invisible hold only tightened, trapping both of your hands. 

“Please baby open your eyes, you are safe I promise.” Bakugou’s voice cooed softly trying to pry you away from your own mind. 

You shake your head not trusting the voice, after all, it was the same one that had just been hurting you. With both your hands held still you are left with no choice but to use your teeth. You bite down on one of the arms holding you, sinking your teeth deep into the flesh until a rusty taste fills your mouth. 

“Open your eyes my beautiful girl please,” Bakugou’s voice grew clearer, the malice you had been expecting surprisingly absent. 

Reluctantly you relax into the warm hold and crack one eye open. A sweet smelling black tank top was the first thing you recognized. You blink your eyes a few times to clean them and get a better look around. 

The cold dark room you had been in only moments ago was gone, replaced by a soft bed and warm blankets. The tight suffocating grip that had held you earlier is now a warm embrace. 

You look at the strong arms holding you to your fiancé’s chest and wince. Deep red scratch marks littered his muscles and an already bruising bite branded his shoulder. With you no longer resisting he released your hands and started to run his fingers up and down your back. Despite his mask of relaxation, you could tell he was shaken up. 

“I did it again didn’t I?” you ask weakly already knowing the answer. 

Bakugou let out a sigh, “Yeah, it took me nearly ten minutes to get you back this time.” 

Overwhelming guilt filled your mind for the second time tonight. You had hurt the man you loved because of some stupid dreams. It had been months since your rescue and still every night without fail you dreamed about it happening. It was like the torture never stopped. 

“It is getting worse,” Bakugou says, continuing to pet down your back. 

You nod weakly. He was not wrong. Neither of you had gotten a full night’s rest since the incident. No matter what pills you took without fail you dreamed about Bakugou. Logically you knew it was not Bakugou who had been the one to hurt you. He was your hero and his reward is you flinching from his touch and attacking him in your sleep. None of this was fair. 

Bakugou’s lips softly pressed against your forehead as he pulled you in even closer. You ignored the spike of fear being close to him caused and tried to remember this was your Bakugou, not the sick twisted version Mimic created. 

“We can’t keep going like this baby,” he says weakly. “I think I need to leave for a little bit.” 

Absolute panic grips your heart, “No! Please don’t leave me. I’ll get better I promise. I will find another sleeping pill that one doctor prescribed worked for the first couple of weeks. We can figure this out, please don’t-” 

“Shh,” Bakugou pulled you in closer. “Right now I am not good for you.” 

You open your mouth to protest but he places his hand finger over our lips. “Baby you flinch every time I look at you.” 

You wanted to deny his claim but remember how his eyes felt on your skin and shutter. 

“My face, my voice, hell my smell are all triggers for you. I am hurting you by being near you. I am causing you pain by serving as a living reminder of your pain and I can’t do it anymore.” 

Hot tears start to fall from your eyes. You hated how everything he is saying is not wrong. He is a walking trigger for the memories of that night and you had no idea how to get over them. 

“So this is it,” you say, defeated. 

“No, baby god no. You and I just need some time apart until you are ready to see me again. I am planning on staying at Deku’s for a bit, the nerd offered me his spare bedroom.” 

Despair was the only thing you could feel. All of this was your fault and he should hate you for it but he doesn’t. Why doesn’t he hate you like you hate yourself? He should be screaming at you for causing all of this. The blame is yours and yours alone. If you had been just a little stronger you would never have been taken in the first place and none of this would have happened. 

“Until I can get you to talk to me about how you are feeling I can’t help you. All I am doing is making this worse.” His arms started to loosen their hold around you and for the first time in weeks you wanted them back. 

His arms pulled away completely, taking his warmth. “This is not permanent,” he assured. “It is just until you are ready for me to come back and I will wait as long as you need.” 

You start to reach out for him, to beg him to get back in bed but the silhouette of him above you sent a chill down your spine. You wanted to rip everything apart, every time you made progress there was something dragging you backward. 

You watch helplessly as he quickly dresses and leaves the bedroom, not looking back. You can’t blame him, you want to be free of yourself too. You could hear the front door to the apartment open and quietly shut, the lock clicking into place. 

Life moved slower when you did not have your angry gremlin by your side. It had been a few weeks since he left and you had never been more miserable. At first, you had agreed to the separation, after all, he was a giant trigger but you were quickly realizing it was worse without him. 

The anxiety of being alone at night had you reaching for your phone nearly every night, wanting to call him. It was a miracle you had managed to resist. With you not there to bother him maybe he would finally be getting some sleep. 

The only communication you had gotten from him was a couple of texts letting you know he was still alive. You know he was trying to give you space but the longer he was away the more you wanted to drag him back home. 

Your therapist had still not cleared you for fieldwork so the only thing you could to distract yourself was binge a couple of shows and try some cooking. Of course nothing you made tasted half as good as Bakugou’s cooking. By the end of the the first week your life consisted of sleep, tv, and takeout. 

Your glazed-over eyes half focus on the tv in front of you as you are lost in your thoughts. You hear a knock on the door and rush over to open it. Could he have changed his mind and come back? For the first time in a long time hope filled your chest but it was quickly shattered as you look through the peephole. Uraraka stood still outside your door holding a few grocery bags. 

You try to plaster on a fake smile and open the door. Uraraka did not wait for an invitation and barreled her way into your apartment. 

“Hello to you too,” you mumble, closing the door. 

She sets the floating bags onto the counter and releases her quirk. “Whew, you would believe the line at the store this morning. All the old ladies were fighting their way into the store for the 20% off sale. Of course none of them could beat me from being first in line.” 

You snort, no matter how many brand deals and hero contracts Uraraka had she never stopped being frugal. 

“How was your morning?” She asked, unpacking the many goods from the bags. 

You shrug, “Same as always, watched some tv and pretend my life isn’t falling apart.” 

Uraraka pauses and gives you a look of understanding. “You know he hasn’t forgotten about you, not for one minute.” 

You look away, “What does it matter, our relationship is practically over. I have not seen him in weeks and even if I did see him I would make everything worse with my stupid fear.” 

“You fear is not stupid, you went through something traumatic and need time to heal.” 

You scoff, “I have had time. But every time I make any progress something triggers me and I fall right back down to where I started.” 

“That is normal though! It took me weeks to even look at Deku without crying. You are both being too hard on yourselves.” 

“I am tired of waiting!” You yell, finally letting your anger out in the open. “I miss him so much it hurts. I miss how he would hold me every night after he helped me bathe because I was too sore to even lift my arms. I miss how he would pack my lunch every day because he could not stand watching me go hungry. I miss my Bakugou.” 

Uraraka wraps her arms around your shoulders pulling you in tight against her chest, letting you sob. It was the first time in weeks anyone had touched you. Her soft hands traced up and down your back, trying her best to soothe the pain. 

“I miss him so much,” you cry between hiccups. 

“So why don’t you call him? I am sure he would be happy to hear your voice.” Uraraka pulls out her phone and starts to dial his number. 

“No!” You snatch the phone from her hand and toss it over your shoulder. You wince as you hear the phone connect with the hardwood floor. 

The hand on your back stills, “You are going to replace that you know.” 

You nod, a worthy expense if it meant you did not have to confront reality just yet. At least with him gone you could pretend your relationship was not over. 

“Stop saying that! Your relationship is not over. What the two of you need is a good conversation.” 

You must have said the last part out loud. “What does it matter, even if we have a conversation and he moves back in I will end up having nightmares and keep him up for weeks. It is not fair for him to suffer through that for me.” 

“Ugh!” Uraraka shoves you off her chest and stands. “Both of you keep pushing each other away based on some convoluted idea that you are actually protecting each other. It makes me want to pull my hair out!

You cross your arms over your chest, “Well I am protecting him.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Sure.” 

“Hey, don’t make me regret teaching you sarcasm. I’m being serious, my nightmares were getting so bad I started to attack him in my sleep.” 

“No offense but Bakugou can handle you with his hands tied behind his back.” 

“But he shouldn’t have to! It is not fair for him to have to worry if his fiancé will attack him in his sleep every night.” 

“News flash, life is not fair. It was not fair when I watched the love of my life get skewered in front of me. It was not fair when I could not look at him for weeks without crying. And it was not fair when Mimic tortured you. None of this is fair or just, it is all shit we are given and sometimes it is more than we can handle.” 

She holds your chin in her hands, “The only thing you are doing wrong is pushing away the person who you need the most.” 

“But I hurt him when he is close,” you argue weakly. 

Uraraka’s eyes softened, “You hurt him more when you push him away. His quirk is not mind reading, he has no idea how to help you, how you can both help each other.” 

You knew she was right, that what you were doing was not working. But you were stuck, unsure how to even start talking to him again. Even so, you had to try. 

“Alright, I will try giving him a call-” 

Behind you, Uraraka’s phone rang, its piercing ring tone cutting you off. Your heart sinks, that ring tone only went off when a hospital was calling. Without a word, Uraraka bends down and picks up her phone from the floor. 

“Hello, this is Uravity speaking,” she said into the phone. 

You watch her face for clues and your heart grew even heavier as worry danced in her eyes. 

“Are you going to transfer him to the Hero’s hospital in Tokyo?” 

Your breathing stops. No, the world could not be so cruel. Your hearing grows fuzzy making it impossible to tune into the rest of Uraraka’s conversation.

“Hey,” someone said in the background. “Hey, I need you to focus. Bakugou is hurt, I am not next of kin so they won’t tell me anything about his condition. I am going to drive us over to the hospital, he should already be there by the time we arrive” 

You nod, too stunned to speak. He was hurt. Your Bakugou was hurt and you were just standing around. Ignoring the pain in your chest your mind finally snapped into action. 

Wordlessly you and Uraraka rushed down to her car below. The drive to the Hero’s hospital was short, only a few blocks from your apartment. The front entrance was already packed full of reporters trying to catch a glimpse of your injured hero. 

You bite your tounge to stop yourself from cursing the reporters out. Those nosy assholes wanted to broadcast Bakugou’s pain to the public for a quick buck. Luckily disappeared from your sight as Uraraka drove past the and into the private parking lot. 

Uraraka had not even put the car in park when you shoved open the door and ran to the sliding doors. You could hear her yell to wait behind you but you kept running until you found the front desk. 

You skid to a stop in front of a shocked receptionist and slam your palms down on the counter, “Where are they taking Hero Dynamight?” You ask, holding your hero license out so she would know you were not a reporter. 

The receptionist winced, “I am sorry but only allowed to disclose information to the family of the patient.” 

“Well I am his wife and I am demanding to know where he is.” You retort, not caring about the implications of the claim. 

“Dynamight is not married, his paperwork states he is a single but nice try.” 

“Listen here you-” your rant was cut short by a soft hand on your shoulder. 

“It was a private ceremony, they have still not made it public yet so there is now paperwork. I know that is not protocol but won’t you please let it slide this once ” Uraraka smiles sweetly trying to play cute to get what she wants.

The receptionist shook her head, “ I am sorry but I cannot allow anyone who is not documented family to visit any patient.” 

You open your mouth to yell but Uraraka beats you to it. 

“That is fine, thank you for doing such a great job protecting our heroes.” She gently grabs your bicep and pulls you away from the desk before you could say another word. 

“What are you doing she is our only way of figuring out anything about Bakugou.” You hiss trying to pry yourself free from her hold. 

“No she’s not,” Uraraka turns her head to look at you and smiles. “I spent a few weeks coming in and out of this hospital while Deku was recovering. Going through the main entrance is the easiest way but there is a locked side door. With enough force, it can be wiggle open.” 

“Won’t it have an alarm?” 

“Of course it has an alarm this is a heavily secured building. Luckily they have a well-trained hero there to investigate the disturbance,” she winked. 

You laugh, being a hero did have its perks. It only took a few more turns before she found the small door. 

“Now when I open this door a blaring alarm will go off and two security guards will come rushing from either end. I will handle the one on this side but you will be on your own for the other. Try not to hurt them too much.” 

With that Uraraka wraps her hand around the door handle and pulls, her arm muscles bulging from the effort. You stand still, stunned to watch your friend pry open the solid steel door.

The door finally gives sending out a blaring alarm but you had already made it past the first couple hallways, hiding in a small doorway as a guard runs past. You wait another minute to make sure the coast is clear besides casually walking down the hallway until you found a nurse’s station.

“Excuse me,” you say, trying to sound as polite as possible. “The front desk told me to ask you which room my husband is in.” 

The oldest nurse looked you up and down skeptically, “What is your husband’s name?” 

“Bakugou Katsuki.” 

“Uh-hu sure, wait here a minute for me while I go find his nurse.” She turned and disappeared into the room behind the station.

Fuck, she was onto you. You slowly walk backward away from the door’s line of sight and rush down the hallway looking desperately for Bakugou. He had to be here somewhere but the hospital was a maze of hallways and doors with no names on them. 

You could not yell out for him that would only alert security to your position faster. You spin on your heels looking frantically for any sign of him but the more you look, the more lost you become. 

“Hey! You cannot be back here,” A security guard yelled, a taser already armed in his hand. 

You put your hands into the air, looking to your side for an escape. You could handle one petty security guard but you did not feel like explaining to the commission why you beat a guard. Sucking in a deep breath you run towards the officer who was too shocked to pull the trigger on the taser. Sticking your leg out you kick his feet out from under him sending his back to the floor. 

Without looking back you run down the hall taking as many turns as you could to find a hiding spot. One of these rooms had to have no camera in it. 

In your frantic looking, one door stood out. It was off to the left in a dead-end hallway. It had to be a good enough hiding spot as any. You sprint to the door and swing the door open into a pitch-black room. 

You felt bile rise in your throat at the thought of entering the darkness but you had no choice, security was hot on your heels. You close your eyes and step into the darkness, closing the door behind you. 

Your back rests against the door and you listen to the guards run past the hallway. For now they had no idea where you were. You let out a sigh of relief and feel around the wall for a light switch. 

Mercifully, you find it and switch it on. The room looked like any other hospital room except for one thing. There was someone in the bed and they were about to look up. 

Shit! You duck under one of the tables in time to hide from their view. 

“Oi, I thought I told you people to leave me alone! I already took the damn pills and agreed to stay the night.” 

Your breathing stops at the deep rough voice of Bakugou. You found him; he is not in a coma fighting for his life. He is in bed resting safely just feet away from you. A sob of relief climbs your throat, and you have to slap your hand over your mouth to mute it. 

The rush of blinding fear to find Bakugou suddenly turns into fear about seeing him. What if he did not want you to visit? Fuck you should have thought about this more before you left. 

“I can hear your breathing! Don’t make me get out of bed or I will kick your ass.” 

Not wanting him to hurt himself by standing you relent and force your weak knees up. You keep your eyes to the floor not daring to look at his face, “Surprise,” you tease weakly. 

“W-what?” Bakugou said, his voice high and full of confusion. 

“I-I heard you got hurt, no one was telling me anything, so I decided to come and check up on you myself. But I see you are fine so I will leave you alone. I am sorry for barging in.” 

“Wait! Don’t leave,” Bakugou winces as he sits up in bed, his abdomen covered in bandages. Instantly you rush to his bedside. 

“Don’t move that fast you will hurt yourself!” You lecture, gently pushing him back down to the bed. Bakugou looks down at your hands with shock, you had not touched him caringly since the incident. 

You quickly realized your hands were still on him and snatch them back to your side. You stand there awkwardly, unsure what to do. It was like the months of being together had been erased since he had left. 

“W-what happened?” You finally ask to break the silence. 

Bakugou looks down at his hands, “Some stupid kid ran out in the middle of the fight and almost got themselves killed. I didn’t have enough time to get them out of the way, so I had to shield them instead. Damn villain managed to shoot me.” 

“You got shot!” 

“Yeah, pathetic asshole knew he could not take me without a gun. Lucky for me he had terrible aim and managed to only graze my side. The only reason I am still in this stupid bed is because Rescue Girl is on vacation and refuses to come in and heal me.” 

The heavy weight on your heart lifted slightly knowing he was not seriously hurt but you still worried about his current condition. Bakugou was not one to sit around until he felt better. In the time the two of you had been together he only got sick once and it took tackling him to the ground and tying him up in bed to keep him from working. 

You knew him and Deku were on good terms now but dealing with a hurt Bakugou was a full-time job. “How long did the doctor say you have to be off work?” 

Bakugou scoffed, “She thinks I have to wait at least a week even with Recovery Girl. As soon as I can escape this bed I will head back to the office I have a villain to hunt down.” 

You put your hands on your hips, “Oh no you won’t. If the doctor tells you to wait a week you will wait a week.” 

A mischievous grin spreads across Bakugou’s face, “Oh, and how are you going to enforce that?” 

Blood rushes to your face making your cheeks feel like they were burning. To keep him from fighting his restraints the last time he was sick you had to fuck him until he was too tired to care he was chained up. By the time he had recovered from being sick you could barely walk and he had to be the one to take care of you.

“Don’t look at me like that when you are hurt.” 

“Then answer the question, how do you plan to keep me from working this week.” 

“What are you five? Do you really need an incentive to be good?” You taunt. 

A wolfish grin spread across his face, “Yes.” 

You throw your hands up in the air, “Ugh, you are terrible!” 

His hand reaches out and grabs your wrist to pull you in closer to the bed and for a second fear flashes in your eyes. All of the teasing had made you forget your fear but his touch brought is all back. 

Bakugou sensed the change in your demeanor and opened his hand to free you from his touch. 

“Wait, don’t move your hand,” you suck in a deep breath. “Just give me a second.” 

His warm long fingers wrapped themselves back around your wrist, holding still as you try to calm your heart. You were stronger than this fear. You could do this. 

“Baby, you don’t have to push yourself, I understand-” 

“No!’ You yell, taking a step closer to his bed. “This is ok, I will make this ok again.” 

You avoid looking at his face, needing to build up your strength before testing your limits. Being separated from him had helped your memories heal some but it was still difficult to see him. 

Forcing the tight fear in your chest down you intertwined your fingers through his and pull them up to your lips, gently kissing his knuckles.

“It is easier when I control where you touch,” you mumble to him, trying to follow Uraraka’s advice. 

“What?” Bakugou asked, unsure what you meant. 

“When you are the one controlling the touching, it makes me nervous because I don’t know what will happen next. It makes me feel like I have no control and that is when I start to freak out.” 

You look down to where your hands were joined, “When I am leading the touch I have some idea of what will happen next and it is easier to not feel scared.” 

“So you have to be in charge?” 

“I don’t have to always be in charge, I just need to know what you are thinking, what you are doing before you do it or I need to be guiding it.” 

Bakugou smiled, “So if I told you to sit on my face would that work?” 

A few incoherent words fall out of your mouth as you try to process what he just said. 

“Well, maybe, but you are hurt and need your rest. Besides, you should not be thinking about that while you are lying in a hospital bed. When you are discharged, we can try something like that.” 

Bakugou sat up straighter, “Oh no you don’t. I have gone without your taste on my tongue for too long. You are going to get that sweet ass over here and sit on my face.” 

“No, Bakugou. Look at the state of you. I could seriously hurt you.” 

That was the absolute worst thing you could have said, in seconds his teasing eyes filled with fiery determination. The last time he gave you that look was when you rejected going on a date with him. A week later he had your legs wrapped around his waist. 

He lifts his finger and points to you and then his face, “Come here.” 

You stubbornly shake your head, “This is not happening Bakugou. You could tear your stitches and have to stay in the hospital even longer.”

He shrugs, “Fine with me as long as you are here.” 

This damn man must be suicidal. “We need to talk more about our relationship before we dive right into sex.” 

“Your mouth will be free and clear to talk.” 

“This is an awful idea. What if I get freaked out in the middle of it all?” 

“That’s easy, we stop,” he gently pulls you in closer his face now only inches away. 

“Please baby I have missed you; I promise I will stop if it gets too much.”

You were conflicted. Neither of you were in a state where you should be fooling around. But the feel of his hand on yours was so calming and warm that you wanted more. 

“Alright,” you whisper. “But If you are in any pain you need to let me know.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I promise. Now get that pretty ass up here,” he pats his shoulders. 

“This is such a bad idea,” you mumble to yourself as you slip off your pants while Bakugou lowered the head of the bed. This could go wrong in so many ways but the longer you thought about his tongue on you the less you cared. 

“Fuck baby,” Bakugou groaned, “Climb up, you won’t hurt me.” 

You toss your pants to the side and do as he said. Climbing up onto his bed and carefully lowering yourself over his face. Your face was burning at the thought of what all he could see. Needing support, you grab ahold of the headboard. After all you did not want to hurt him. Bakugou was not having that. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you down until you had no choice but to rest your weight on his face. 

“Wait, you could hurt yourself,” you protested breathlessly. 

He only laughed, his hot breath teasing your aching cunt. He sat still under you for a few minutes letting you get adjusted to the feeling of his touch, and it let him soak in the sight of you above him. 

“Such a pretty pussy,” he mumbled against the soft skin of your thighs. Not wanting to move too fast he first places a few sloppy kissing along with your inner thigh, giving you ample time to mentally prepare for his mouth on your cunt. 

You try to stop yourself from shaking but it was impossible. It had been months since someone had touched you and to have Bakugou beneath you, ready to worship your body, was almost too much for your brain to process. 

Bakugou’s mouth teased your other thigh before settling on your already soaking wet pussy.

“That’s my good girl, already wet for me. This pretty pussy knows who it belongs to, but does its owner?” 

“Bakugou stop talking to my pussy and get to work,” you growl. 

“Tsk, when did you become so greedy?” The hands on your thighs shift around until they were able to spread open your sex giving him complete access to you.

“You are lucky I miss this just as much as you do or I would tease you for hours. Tie your ass to the bed and not let you leave until neither of us could move.” 

You rock your hips trying to egg him on, “Sounds to me like you are all talk.” 

The hands on your thighs tighten forcing you to put all your weight onto his face. You try to pull yourself up, not wanting to suffocate your boyfriend but he refuses and goes straight for the kill. His soft wet tongue drags a straight line up the slit of your cunt, gathering up your juices. 

Your hands abandon the headboard and thread through his hair. Bakugou groaned, settling into feasting on your cunt. His soft lips slide through your folds, looking for your hidden button. 

“Ah please Bakugou,” you beg, “it feels so good.” 

You could feel his smile against your skin before his mouth latches onto your throbbing clit, dragging it into his mouth. 

While his lips teased your clit, one hand left your thigh to snake around under you. You lurch forward as two thick fingers slip through your folds, wetting themselves in your slick before they gently press at your entrance. 

Your hips buck away from the combined sensations fearing to be too much but Bakugou was not having it, he strengthened his hold on your thighs and pushed you down on his fingers. You sob at the feeling of being stretched, it had been so long the burn was more intense than normal. 

“Fuck baby you are so tight around my fingers, I can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock,” he groaned. 

“Bakugou,” you whined. “You can’t just say things like that.” 

He releases your clit with a pop, “Like what? Like how I want to feast on this pussy until you are all I can taste for weeks. Like how by the time I am done with you, you will be a sobbing mess that I will have to take care of. Just listen to this sloppy pussy take my fingers. Fuck baby people would kill for even a sliver of this cunt but too bad for them it is all mine.” 

You shove a fist in your mouth to stifle a loud moan. The last thing either of you needed was someone barging in. 

Bakugou pulled your aching bud back between his lips and got to work. The two fingers inside you started to pump, curling to hit your sweet spot each time they were inside you. His delicious tongue flicked up and down on your clit driving you mad. 

Trusting you would not run away he releases your other thigh and reaches under your shirt. His large hand stroked up your stomach, caressing the skin there before latching onto one of your nipples. He pinches the soft peak between his fingers, rolling it until it pebbles. You arch your back into his hand and start to rock your hips wanting more. 

Bakugou moans into your cunt, able to tell you were growing lost in the pleasure. He loved it when you were too engrossed with feeling good to care about anything except him. 

Looking down in between your legs you could see his light blonde hair peeking out from the apex of your thighs and had a devilish idea. 

“Bakugou stick out your tongue,” you order. 

He releases you from his mouth and looks up, his chin soaking with your juices, “What?” 

“Stick out your tongue, like this,” You show him with your own mouth. 

A spark of recognition flashed in his eyes and he smiled. Good, he liked the idea too. With no delay, his tongue stuck out of his mouth. You reach down and spread yourself open, settling back over Bakugou’s eager tongue. His fingers abandon you in favor of holding onto your ass while you dig your fingers into his hair. 

With both of you settled you slowly begin to rock your hips, riding his tongue. You start off slowly, watching closely for any sign Bakugou was not comfortable but judging by his growl of pleasure you would say he is just fine. 

A red hot warmth started to grow in the lower half of your body, slowly spreading its tingle to your lower belly. Fuck, the image of Bakugou beneath you, letting your ride his face was almost too much to process. 

“Oh god Bakugou,” you moan. “Please, it feels so good.” 

He could only groan in response, his mouth too busy bringing you to your peak. When you looked down at him between your legs you could only see his bright lust filled eyes. They were intensely watching you fall apart. 

White spots started to grow in your vision and you increase the speed of your thrusts. The fingers in his hair tighten, now holding onto him for dear life. It only took a few more rocks of your hips before the white spots grew into a blinding white light.

Overwhelming waves crashed into you, sending glorious pleasure pulsing through you. Your body was not your own as the electricity ran through you making every muscle grow taunt and release in a never-ending cycle. 

Bakugou redoubled his effort, not letting you even finish your first peak before he was building you up to another. The idea that you would feel that pleasure again was enough to make you mad. 

His fingers slipped into your clenching entrance and curled forward, teasing your sweet spot. His lips returned to your clit, sucking it gently into his mouth and lashing at the tender bud with his tongue. 

You release his hair, afraid you will rip it out, and hold onto the headboard as all the clenching tension finally releases, sending you spiraling. Loud wanton moans ripped from your throat and you could do nothing to stop them. 

Bakugou toyed with you until you could no longer hold yourself upright. Only then did he gently lift you off his face and down onto his lap. You slouch over and rest your forehead on his shoulder. The world around you was fuzzy, your mind still reeling from how hard you finished. 

“Wait, Bakugou you are not supposed to be lifting anything!” You yell when your mind finally returns to reality. 

“Tsk, I already told you I am fine.” 

You fought the urge to slap him, “You idiot what if you had busted open your stitches!” 

“You did not seem too worried about that when you were rubbing your cunt on my tongue.” 

“Well, obviously I was not thinking straight,” you mumble. Damn him for being right. 

Bakugou gives you a sly smile, “You know I am feeling a little sore.” 

Regret slams into you, “Damn it Bakugou, I was worried this would happen. Where are you hurting.”

His hips thrust upwards forcing his rock-hard cock against your ass. “Right there baby.”

You flick your finger against his forehead, “I was really worried you asshole.”  

“But it aches, won’t you make it feel better?” 

“You are lucky you are hot,” you whisper into his ear before carefully descending his body. You settle in between his legs, pulling down the blankets to free his cock. 

You have to stop and stare at it. Everything about your boyfriend had to be perfect. His cock was long and proud, resting on his stomach with a small tuft of blonde pubic hair at the base. His cock had one large vein running up the length of it, pulsing with each heartbeat. God, you wanted to trace that vein with your tongue. 

Reaching up you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He was so warm on your hand, like your own personal space heater. You shuffle your body to get your mouth a little close to his cock and then before he could say anything bring the head of his cock into your mouth. 

His reaction was instant, his hands shot down to grab at the sheets beside your head. You could feel his hips flex under you as he fought the urge to thrust up into your mouth. 

Feeling emboldened by his reaction you relaxed the muscles in your jaw and took more of his length into your mouth. His salty flavor spilled across your tongue as he started to release pre-cum. Your poor baby had gone too long without any attention. 

Redoubling your effort you bring up your free hand and wet it with your spit. Reaching under your busy mouth you slide your finger down until you find Bakugou’s tight entrance. 

“Hey, what do you think you are doing?” Bakugou growls, grabbing your wrist. 

You let his cock fall out of your mouth and look up innocently, “I am making you feel good baby, just lay back and relax. I promise this will feel good.” 

He looked conflicted but slowly the iron-clad grip on your wrist loosened enough to set you free. Not waiting for him to change his mind you begin to circle his hole with your wet finger. Before you could even try to push your finger forward you needed him to relax. You return to teasing his aching cock with your mouth, sucking on his tip just the way he likes all the while circling your finger around his hole, waiting for him to relax enough for you to slip it in. 

As you take another inch of him into your mouth you could feel him relax enough to slip your finger slip past the tight ring of muscle. You could feel Bakugou tense so you did not move the finger forward, giving him time to adjust to the intrusion. 

With your tongue on his dick it was easy enough to distract him as you slowly inch your finger in. Once you went in far enough you twist your finger around, looking for a soft spongy spot inside him. A sharp thrust up into your mouth signaled you had found exactly what you were looking for. 

“What the fuck,” Bakugou groaned, his hands going to hide his face. You smirk, finally, you were the one driving him insane. 

You benign to move your hand and mouth on his cock in time with your finger in his ass. Small pathetic whines were leaving Bakugou’s mouth and you felt like a god. You were so engrossed in bringing him pleasure you had no time to think about anything else. 

You could hear his breathing begin to grow more labored and his cock grow even harder in your mouth. “Fuck, baby I am going to-” Was the only warning you had before his cum shot to the back of your throat. 

You swallow his release down, making sure to ease your hold on his cock, now only gently pumping your hand and finger to lengthen his orgasm. 

Slowly the pulsing of his cock stopped and you released him from your mouth, wiping the spit on your chin off with the back of your hand. You could not help but smile as you watched Bakugou slowly come back into the real world with a beautiful dazed look on his face. 

He slid his hand under your chin and lifted your head to meet his eyes, “Where the fuck did you learn that?” 

“Being away from you for this long made me desperate so I watched a couple of videos to make it easier.” 

“Right,” he said breathlessly, “You need to show me that shit later if it taught you that.”

You laugh, “Gladly. Now lay down you need your rest.” 

Bakugou tilts his head, “What the hell do you mean rest? I have not been away from you for too long, I can rest later. Now I am going to get my cock into that tight pussy.” 

“Bakugou you just finished.” 

“So,” he thrusts his hips up, rubbing his already erect cock against your ass. 

“How?” You ask in amazement. 

“I have been fantasizing about fucking you for months baby. Did you really think once would be enough to satisfy me?” 

Without waiting another minute his hands grab into your hips and lift you up. Lining your entrance up with the tip of his cock. In a flash you involuntarily tense your body, the memories of that night rushing back into your head. No, no, no, not now, not when you were so close to being one with Bakugou again. 

His bright red eyes meet yours as he feels you tense. Fuck, why did you always mess everything up, this was all your fault. Why could you not just be normal, that is what he deserved a nice normal happy girl. 

“Hey,” Bakugou whispered softly. “Talk to me, what is wrong.” 

You wanted to keep your lips shut, to pretend that everything was fine but that would be lying. You never wanted to lie to him. 

“I can’t stop thinking about Mimic. One minute I am fine and the next he is all I can see.” 

Bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed, “You were fine with what we did earlier? What triggered it?” 

You shake your head, “It is different every time. It is just hard for my mind to differentiate from my Bakugou and the one Mimic made.” 

“So call me Katsuki.” 

“Huh?” 

“If you are having a hard time with there being two Bakugou’s, then try calling me Katsuki. That way there is at least one easy way to tell me apart from him.” 

“You want me to call you by your first name?” 

His eyes softened, “Yeah baby, I want you to call me by my first name.” 

“Katsuki,” You test his name out, loving how it feels on your tongue. You watch his face to see his reaction and see lust fill his gaze. Oh he liked it.

You start to whisper his name over and over again, like a prayer to remind yourself you were no longer under Mimics thumb. You were with the man who would kill anything that tried to hurt you.

“If you keep saying my name like that baby I am going to fuck you,” Katsuki growled into your ear.

Oh would he now? You wiggle your hips, teasing the head of your cock with your dripping slit. Pulling him in close you whisper one little word, “Katsuki.”

“You asked for it,” He laughed, hauling your hips back up until they hovered over his cock.

The hands on your hips gripped down with bruising force and his cock slipped into your entrance. All the play from earlier had left you more than prepared enough to take his length. The familiar burn started as his cock sank deeper inside you, opening you wide for him.

“By the time I am finished with you, this tight cunt is going to be fucking dripping in my cum. I am going to fill you to the fucking brim.”

A low groan was your only response he bottomed out inside you, his cock leaving no space unfilled. You could damn near feel him in the back of your throat. Normally he would be the one to initiate thrusting but you were growing too impatient.

Bracing your hands on his chest, careful to avoid his bandages, you lift your hips up until only the tip of his cock was inside. Then you slam your hip down, marveling at the feel of him entering you again.

His cock was perfect for hitting all the sweet spots inside you. Not wanting to be left out Katsuki grab ahold of your ass and uses his own strength to strengthen each thrust.  

You look down to where you both were joined and almost came on the spot. The sight of his cock pistoning into you was mind-shattering. He looked like a god beneath you. His large muscles building with effort, the thick veins in his arms standing elevated.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his bright red eyes filled with determination. “Right now you are mine, that means the only thing you are allowed to think about is me. About how good my cock feels splitting you open. Is that clear?”

You weakly nod your head, too overwhelmed to speak. A soft smile spreads across his face, “That is my baby, so good for me.”

His praise felt like a caress on your skin. You needed to distract yourself or this would end too soon. You lean forward and press your lips onto his. His tongue glided along the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. You happily opened your mouth allowing his tongue to slip inside. The taste of his spit was mixed with your own flavor, and you still had some of his taste on your tongue. The combined flavor was so fucking lewd and hot.

The familiar tingled started to grow in your pussy, you were not going to last long. The muscles in your legs begin to tremble making your thrusts grow sloppy. Katsuki was not having it. His hips rose to meet yours, forcing your body to endure even more pleasure all the while he toyed with your mouth.

It all became too much, the different sensations all worked together to drive you up, higher and higher you were climbing until it was hard to even breathe. Then, just like that, all the pressure released sending you spiraling.

Your pussy clamped down on his cock, forcing Katsuki to erupt. The thought of him filling you only lengthened the brutal pleasure filling your mind. There was no room in your mind for anything but him. You had no care in the world but him just like he ordered. 

As the pulses of pleasure slowed you were able to finally catch your breath. You both laid still in each others arms for a few minutes, letting you come slowly back to earth. Of all the times the two of you fucked this definitely had to be in the top three. Though they did say that makeup sex was the best. 

“How are you feeling?” Katsuki asked, his voice rough. 

You rest your ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, “I feel good.” 

He places a soft kiss on your forehead, “Do you think you are ready for me to come home?” 

You take the time to think about it. Having him back in your life did not set off fear like it used to. Instead, it made you feel warm inside. You looked forward to going to bed with him instead of dreading it. 

“Yeah,” you smile. “Yeah, I am.” 

The arms around your waist tighten pulling you impossibly closer to his chest. You snuggle in closer, getting comfortable. Katsuki would never admit it but lying here with you in his arms safe and happy was one of the happiest moments in his life. 

Neither of you was healed from what had happened but you refused to push him away again. You will get past what happened and you will do it with him by your side. 

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing ii. | m

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 2, 245

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

The next time you see Jungkook you’re slower than he is when it comes to avoiding his presence. You were smart but Jungkook was sneaky—a characteristic that allowed him to weasel his way into your heart and your mind.

“Sweets.” He calls, tone smiling and your heart flutters unconsciously to the term of endearment that sounded a lot more taunting than it should be.

“We’re in public.” You hiss, reminding him of what you were—his secret.

He seems pleased with your reaction like he enjoys flustering you till no end that proves his upper hand when it came to your dynamics. You weren’t sure when it happened but one day he decided he wasn’t your younger friend Jungkook but Jungkook who could dampen your panties with just his smile.

“You didn’t seem to mind at the party.” He shrugs.

You glare at him shifting away from his body that leans closer when he joined you in the study booth. You chose this particular place because it was secluded away from the main area of the library, tucked in a corner where no one ever goes because it was deadly silent.

So you have no idea what the hell is Jungkook doing here, especially when you knew he had a game earlier; given he’s still in his jersey and with the musky scent of sweat and his laundry detergent.

“I’m studying.” You clip.

You avoid Jungkook’s gaze because you know one look and you’ll melt. But you needed to toughen up because you weren’t going to fall pliant to his touch anymore, or his smile or his smooth words. You remember who he is and who you were.

“Me too.” Jungkook retorts, purposefully sliding closer with a random book he’s snatched from the shelves.

You purse your lips and straighten your back, focusing purely on the task at hand rather than the fact that Jungkook was trying his best to make as much contact with your shoulder as he possibly could with his own.

Jungkook huffs when he realises that you weren’t budging, fully stuck in a half-study-half-dazed mode whenever he was around. What he didn’t know was that with every press against your stature, was a flutter in response.

“Why aren’t you celebrating?” You mutter.

Jungkook grins when he realises you’re casually flipping through your textbook while you await his response. He leans on his palm while staring straight at your face, eyes set directly on your cheek that it makes you flush harder.

“I am.” He replies smoothly, “With you.”

You roll your eyes at the flirtatious attempt even if it did make your stomach feel funny. Jungkook made you feel things out of your own control but you knew better than to continue falling for the same tricks over and over again.

“I need to study so leave me alone.” You clip.

Jungkook pouts in a mocking manner before leaning back into his chair, wrapping his arm around the back of your chair.

“You’ve been avoiding me, sweets.”

You freeze at the statement, fingers tightly gripping the sheets of paper while you force yourself to keep a neutral expression.

“No, I haven’t.” You say tightly.

Jungkook scoffs, “I’m not stupid, babe. You’ve been avoiding me ever since the night of the party.”

The night of the party was a reminder to yourself that Jungkook was horrible for you because he made you act out of your rationale, willing you to do things that you’d never do. And you made that mistake once and you weren’t going to make it again.

“And if I was?” You retort.

Jungkook tongues the inside his cheek before looking ahead, a light smirk painting his face. It’s an expression you know intimately because it’s a look he only has when he knows you’ve always been pliant for him, ready to please.

“Then I’d be really disappointed.”

“Good. I was serious.” You snap, eyes finally darting to his face in slits and he’s already looking at you.

“But you’re not pushing me away, are you?” Jungkook asks in a low voice, and somehow his palm has splayed itself on your thigh, spreading them wide enough for him to rub tempting circles on your skin.

You don’t, because while his touch is scalding it’s just as addictive.

“Leave me alone, Jungkook.” You say through a shaky breath.

He chuckles darkly and then his nose is nudging your jaw, breath hot on your neck while he hikes his hand higher up your skirt.

“You don’t seem like you want me to leave you alone, hm?” He mumbles onto your neck, causing goosebumps to arise.

Your grip on the desk tightens when he brushes his finger over the fabric of your panties and you’re mortified to realise that it’s already damp. Jungkook realises this too and he chuckles against your jaw, biting into the flesh that has you gasping.

“I-I need to study …” You choke when he presses firmly onto your clit, your hips jumping at the stimulation.

“I heard you, sweets.” He hums, “Think you can multitask?”

You hate how he reduced you to nothing but mush, reasoning and pride out the window when he pushes your panties aside to spread the slickness of your pussy with his index finger.

“J-Jungkook …” You whimper.

His nose is pressed against your cheek when he trails his lips across your jaw, down your chin and eventually your neck. The feeling of his lips is familiar but distant and it only makes your heart clench at the unattainable feeling.

You remember that he wasn’t yours. That he is as much Jennie’s as you were his; and your eyes widen in alarm, hands reaching out to grip at his wrist before he can slip a digit into your leaking hole.

“I said we can’t keep doing this.” You say weakly.

Jungkook frowns at you when you pull away completely, crossing your legs so that he won’t have easy access anymore. Your cheeks are hot and it’s both in arousal and embarrassment because you’ve easily allowed him into your heart via your body yet again, despite your own mind warning against it.

“What gives?” He asks irritatedly like he doesn’t understand why you’re pulling away.

You don’t expect him to, not when he has all the options in the world and the only person that sees you like this is … him.

“I’m busy.” You lie through your teeth. You haven’t been paying attention to your books the moment he’s arrived and you were far too distracted to continue.

Jungkook scoffs, narrowing his eyes at you when you firmly avoid his stare.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. You’ve been acting weird ever since the party and you literally just upped and left when I joined you and Jimin the other day.” He bites, “So I’m asking again: what gives?”

You keep your lips shut because you don’t have the courage to tell him that it’s your heart that’s tired. That you don’t think you can do this anymore because it hurts too much when he pulls away and pretends like nothing happened, only to return when it’s convenient.

“You know I don’t like it when people don’t answer me, baby.” He growls, mouth impossibly close to your ear.

You tighten your grip on the table as you clench your jaw, trying to even out your breathing so you don’t say anything rash.

“You’re really testing my patience here, ______.”

And you’re still floored at how this was the same Jungkook that used to thank you with a wide grin every time you offered help with his homework in high school, or when he’d hold umbrellas for the both of you. This was Jungkook, but older, and a lot meaner.

“I just need to study, Jungkook …” You say softly, hoping he’d take that as his queue to leave.

“And I just want to have fun, sweets.” He whispers, lips close to the shell of your ear.

The word throws you off, and you feel the anger rise.

“Fun? That’s all I am to you? A fun time?” You fume.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sudden one-eighty shift of your mood when you snap at him. But like you mentioned, he wasn’t the same, shy Jungkook that used to follow you around everywhere—this was someone different.

“What are you implying?” He furrows his brows at you.

“I’m saying—” You poke into his chest with fierce eyes, “—I don’t want to be just a fun time anymore. I’m done with … whatever this is, Jungkook.”

Jungkook locks his jaw before staring at you with dark and unreadable eyes.

“You say this now but we both know that I’m the only one that can make you scream the way you do.” He whispers.

You shiver but stand your ground.

“I don’t care. What my mind and what my body wants are two different things. And I’m telling you that all of this has to stop.” You gesture to your bodies.

“What is this really about?” He sighs, “Come on. Tell me like a big girl.”

He leans back, brash and with a lazy smirk on his face like he’s half-expecting you to apologise and fall back onto him, mouth on his cock like an apology letter. But you’re so so tired and your heart hurts because you think of Jennie. You think of the same mouth that holds all the words to hurt you on hers, and you prepare for it.

“It’s because I’m done with you, Jungkook!” You seethe, “You can’t have two girls at once especially when you’re only halfway in my door and living in her house.”

Jungkook furrows his brows, “Two girls—?”

“I saw the video of you and Jennie.” You whisper, “I don’t know when the fuck that happened. If it was before you pulled that stunt in the bathroom or after—but I don’t want anything to do with that.”

You quickly clear your belongings and stand up to leave, but Jungkook has a tight grip on your wrist so that you can’t walk away.

“Why are you mad about that?” He asks, genuinely confused.

You gape at him, opening and closing your mouth to find the right words to say but they all fall short.

“Why—what? Are you not hearing yourself? Of course, I’m fucking pissed! You finger me like some fucking pornstar and kiss me like I’m yours and the next thing you know it you’re kissing some other girl while pretending like I don’t exist. Like we weren’t friends that grew up together or the fact that you and I were close before you turned into this asshole.”

Jungkook blinks at you.

“We are still friends …” He says slowly.

You want to rip your hair out because having this conversation only tires and hurts you further, but Jungkook is oblivious to the internal dilemma that you were having with your own heart.

“Friends don’t do this shit to each other, Jungkook.” You hiss, “You don’t fuck someone over because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.”

“Why are you acting as if you weren’t as into it as I was?” Jungkook retorts, tone defensive.

“It’s because I was! I was so fucking into it that it blindsided me! I don’t do this shit, Jungkook—not with anyone else and it just had to be you that this happened to me with.”

Jungkook pauses, and his eyes turn impossible dark. His face is terrifying when he inches closer, all evidence of other emotions but blankness and fury painting his features.

“If it wasn’t me then no one would’ve ever touched you.” He spits as your eyes widen at his tone, “I did you a favour by deciding that you were worth it. And maybe you’re not because clearly you got attached and you want shit to be exclusive, right?”

You stare at Jungkook because Jungkook was mean but never like this. Never personal and poking at all your unhealed wounds.

“Jung—”

“Shut up,” He sneers, “I strung you around because I felt bad for you. Twenty-five and a virgin? If not me then who else, hm? Jimin wouldn’t touch you and neither would Tae. You’re just an uptight prude with a stick up her ass that can’t do anything but study. And yeah—I kissed Jennie. Right after I fingered you so hard that you cried because at least she won’t just sit there like a starfish and take whatever’s given to her.”

You blink at Jungkook, arms limp by your sides when he spits all the venomous words to your face, unapologetic when his eyes burn with intense disdain for the person he was talking to.

Everything is numb, and you can’t react because you don’t know how to. But you feel a tear slip past your eye because it’s hot—it’s hot compared to the cold atmosphere that crackles in the air.

Every single one of your insecurities was thrown out the window without a single care and Jungkook looked damned sure that he meant every word. And it hurts even more because you remember confiding him in the same things he was weaponising.

You don’t say anything at all, but your body reacts and more tears fall despite your mortification.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Jungkook.” You say through a choked breath, shoving past him with your belongings tucked tightly against your body.

Jungkook doesn’t even chase after you, frozen into place with his own words that left his mouth.

[queenshelby]

Pleasure & Pain

50 Shades of Murphy – Part Three

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT, Dom/Sub, BDSM, Edging, Impact Play, Nipple Clamps, Wax Play, Unprotected Intercourse

Words: 5,246

Over the past week, you had signed Cillian’s agreement and had arranged for all of your medical check-ups and, as expected, everything was in order.

You’ve had the implant for about a year already and pregnancy wasn’t a concern.

Cillian, in turn, did the same and it wasn’t until Saturday that you caught up again after Cillian had spent the week in London with his brother.

When you arrived at Cillian’s house, you were rather surprised to see that he had cooked dinner for you and everything started off almost like a regular date.

You got along well and never ran out of interesting conversation material. Nonetheless, that particular evening, you were nervous and a little bit worried about what was to come.

‘You know you can still change your mind’ Cillian said as he poured you a glass of wine, which you finished rather quickly despite the fact that Cillian made clear to you that he wouldn’t give you more than one glass until after your session in his basement.

‘I know, but I won’t. I want see what this is all about. I have been reading up on it and I am not quite so sure why people find joy in inflicting and receiving pain this way’ you said, trying to ascertain what exactly it was that he would do to you.

‘It’s not about the pain. It is about pleasure’ Cillian explained and you nervously bit your lip, unsure how to respond to his statement.

‘So, you think I will enjoy this, being whipped and god knows what else you will do to me’ you said.

‘I am certain that you will. Despite, it’s not just that. You will see’ Cillian said somewhat reassuringly before asking you to get up, get ready and meet him downstairs.

‘So, what do you want me to wear then sir?’ you joked.

‘Nothing at all’ Cillian responded firmly.

‘Nothing? No lingerie?’ you asked surprised and a little disappointed as you bought three sets of sexy lacy underwear with you for him to choose from.

‘Lingerie is overrated. I want you to wait for me on the bed, naked with your hair tight up’ Cillian instructed before giving you a passionate kiss.

‘Yes sir’ you simply said with a wink as your lips drifted apart, knowing very well that you didn’t have to address him like this until you entered the play room.

***

You looked up from where you sat on the bed, completely naked, just as Cillian had instructed, when Cillian entered the room.

He made you wait for at least 15 minutes but you hadn't wanted to explore the room without him. You were simultaneously excited, aroused and fearful of what you might find amongst everything else you saw during your first visit to his house.

Cillian looked gorgeous as he stood in the doorway watching you, wearing nothing but tight black Calvin Klein briefs.

‘I am ready sir’ you said quietly as you watched Cillian walk towards the other end of the room, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

‘No rope tonight?’ you then asked as he returned silently with four leather cuffs, two smaller and two larger ones.

‘Not tonight’ Cillian said and you willingly held out your wrists for him.

‘Not yet. Lie down’ he instructed and you complied, lying down and allowing him to encircle your wrists with each of the cuff before securing them to a leather string which was attached to the bedhead above you.

Whilst the string allowed you to wiggle, it also allowed Cillian to turn you around without undoing the cuffs.

Without words, his eyes followed his fingers as they trailed down your cheek and over your shoulder to your breast where his fingers found your nipple, pinching it gently between his thumb and forefinger and rolling the swollen nub.

Then, Cillian grabbed the other larger cuffs which he placed around your ankles before retrieving a metal bar and attaching it in between the cuffs, keeping your legs spread wide.

‘Fuck, you look so sexy like this, all helpless and at my mercy’ he murmured from where he was sitting.

You smiled and looked up at him, moving your shoulders slightly, trying to wiggle around to get more comfortable.

‘It's adorable watching you try to retain some sense of control in here with me’ Cillian then said before he placed his hands on your shoulders to stop your movements.

‘The moment you signed that contract you surrendered all control of what happens here to me’ he then reminded you as he moved away from you and you watched him as he seemed to be slowing himself down with the distraction of retrieving equipment rather than rebuking your actions.

You said nothing as you watched him take out two candles before placing them on a waist-high shelf beside the bed and lighting them. Almost immediately the room began to fill with a subtle sweet smell. You continued to watch him as he went to a different panel and took several items from the cupboard before approaching you again.

‘You said you would take it easy on me the first time we do this’ you said nervously as you observed him carrying a leather strap towards the bed.

‘If you are a good girl and behave for me, then I will’ Cillian smirked.

‘Hmm, alright, I will be good’ you said somewhat nervously and Cillian could see that you were slightly worried.

‘Do you remember your safe words?’ Cillian then asked and you nodded.

‘Good. How are you feeling, now?’ he asked.

‘Green’ you said with a smile.

‘Good, now close your eyes and keep them closed’ Cillian ordered, wanting you to trust him without him having to blindfold you.

‘Why?’ you asked before you could stop yourself and felt the sting of the strap catch your breast.

‘Because I told you to, and in here we play by my rules’ he said in a low dark voice. ‘Close your eyes and keep them closed’ he repeated his command.

His tone and forcefulness sent a shiver down your spine, and without thinking about it any further, you closed your eyes.

Cillian took a few moments to gaze down on you, still not quite believing that you were here in this room with him and allowing him to use you in this way. He ran his hands over your breasts, playing with your hard-pointed nipples and listening to the small moans of pleasure you emitted.

You took a deep breath a moment before you felt his lips on yours while his hands massaged down your body starting from your shoulders and lingering over your breasts before moving lower across your tummy and then the area of skin just above your mound. You heard him groan deeply as if the slower pace he was moving at was torturing him, and you allowed yourself a small smile that you affected him in the same way his actions were affecting you.

‘Roll’ Cillian almost barked as he took hold of your body and helped you roll over on to your stomach.

The leather strip attached to your cuffs was now twisted tighter towards the bedhead and your legs were still held wide apart by the spreader.

‘Keep your eyes closed’ he instructed and the bed sagged as you felt Cillian's weight beside you on the mattress. He moved further to straddle your thighs, and you felt his hands touch lightly on your shoulders and you tensed as if expecting the strap to land rather than the continued soft touch of his hands.

‘Relax, Y/N. It's important to relax’ he whispered into your ear, his hot breath caressing your neck. ‘Where are we on the scale?’ he then asked softly.

‘Green’ you whispered softly.

‘Good’ he said softly as his hands glided over your ass.

You felt a small thrill flutter inside you as you began to surrender to him while he continued to gently touch and caress your body for at least ten minutes or so.

The feeling was amazing and you began to fantasise as you felt his hands skate around your thighs to just touch at the inner sides, mere centimetres away from your mound.  You felt his hands creep slowly closer but withdraw again, making you whimper at the denial.

Cillian very carefully avoided any contact with your already soaking pussy and, instead, began working his hands around to your outer thighs. You groaned in disappointment and you heard his faint chuckle.

You took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the movement of his big strong hands again and sighed as you let the breath out.

‘Did you just sigh at me?’ Cillian asked cheekily as, suddenly, he smacked your ass.

‘I am sorry sir’ you squeaked and felt the cool air once again caress your pussy, making you realise just how wet and wanting you were from all of his teasing.

The pull on your ass cheeks stopped and you heard him groan before the mattress moved and you realised he had moved from the bed. You groaned in frustrated need as he stood there gazing down at you for long minutes.

But then, unexpectedly, there was a blow. The blow, when it came, was light and not at all painful, but made you squeak and your head come up in surprise as you registered what had happened.

‘Too light?’ Cillian questioned almost to himself.

The next blow You felt immediately as it landed over the first and made you hiss between closed teeth and lips and became clear to you that it was the leather strip that was coming down on your ass.

‘How do you feel?’ Cillian asked.

‘Green’ you whispered breathily, the heat from the blow starting to warm your ass. Three more blows came on the other cheek, seeming to hit in the same spot and stinging you with their heat.

‘Y/N?’ he questioned.

‘Green’ you said in a whimpering moan.

‘This is going to be more fun than I imagined then’ he taunted your and let loose a barrage of blows across your ass and upper thighs, making you moan loudly.

‘That’s a good girl’ Cillian praised the louder moan that had escaped your lips. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked as he paused.

‘Green’ you moaned in a purring way as you settled into the heat and subtle pain of your ass and thighs.

‘Ready?’ he asked, adoring the way you had answered him and enjoying the moment more than he could ever remember in the past. He saw your body tremble in anticipation and raised the strap again.

The first few strikes across the cheeks of your ass seemed lighter to you, as if just reheating the marks already imprinted on your skin. The warmth and sensations they caused were more than manageable, and you never thought to warn him by changing your colour of answer when he asked again. As he continued the increasing intensity of the strikes against your skin, they began to overwhelm you a little more as he worked the strap back down your thighs, giving your ass a small reprieve.

Your head spun, and a deep, intense rush of adrenaline shot through you, firing your brain and numbing the burning hot sting of your ass. You barely heard the words as he demanded to know how you were feeling, and you groaned out green again, feeling your body react not only to the strikes of his strap but also his commanding voice.

Cillian paused and ran his hands over your now burning skin, feeling the heat radiating from it and hearing your soft whimpering as he squeezed the fiery cheeks of your ass.

‘Unbelievable’ Cillian groaned and started to massage the colourful flesh of your ass again, revelling in your ability to take so much from him.

‘Finally, you relax’ he chuckled as he rewarded you by sliding a finger through your slick lips to tease you for a minute.

‘And you are so fucking wet too’ he then observed as he watched your hips buck almost involuntarily as he finally touched your pussy. You felt the teasing finger travel through your folds and playfully teasing at your clit, making your let out a purring moan of appreciation and test the bonds that held your arms above your head.

‘You are something else Y/N’ Cillian murmured in a pleased light tone, and began to insert a finger into you, marvelling at how tight you felt like this and feeling your muscles clutch at his finger as if wanting to draw it deeper. The tension soon became to much for you and you tried to grind yourself against his hand.

‘No! Don’t move’ Cillian scolded, withdrawing his finger and smacking your ass again. ‘Remember who is in control?’ he murmured darkly. ‘Let's try this again, shall we? Cillian then asked as he reinserted his finger and curled it down, seeking out the rough area of skin within your that would push your over the edge.

You whimpered in high purring moans, and when he added a second finger to the first massaging your g-spot with force, you couldn't control the rock of your hips as you built up to what promised to be an earth-shattering climax. Once again Cillian withdrew his fingers and smacked your ass even harder than before, making you cry out even louder.

‘Think carefully before you move!’ Cillian growled. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, and watched your take a shaky breath as you thought about what was happening.

‘Green’ you whimpered again.

‘Good’ Cillian said as he moved back down your body to kneel on the end of the bed again and grasped your hips in both hands, raising them and encouraging you to pull your knees below you to hold the position while your ankles were still spread apart.

On your knees, you felt the muscles in your thighs and ass stretch and pull at your damaged skin, and you whimpered softly as you knelt with your ass high and your head low against the mattress where your arms were chained forward and in place.

You concentrated on these feelings of discomfort as he once again pushed his fingers into you and continued to massage your g-spot, bringing you rapidly back to the point you had been only minutes before. You desperately tried not to grind back against his hand, realising your mistake now, but as the muscles in your thighs and ass continued to burn.

Cillian watched you carefully for all of the tell-tale signs that you were close to coming. You were panting heavily, and your body seemed to shudder as you tried to maintain your position for him. The sounds you made became increasingly higher pitched and, as he saw the muscles in your thighs trembling, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you on the edge of what would have been an amazing climax.

‘Remember to ask me for permission if you want to come?’ Cillian said in a low voice as you cried out, your body moving to seek the renewed contact, and he smacked you, pulling your legs from under your so that you landed heavily back onto the bed whimpering softly.

‘I was so close’ you whimpered piteously.’

‘Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it? In fact, you should really be punished for trying to come without my permission’ Cillian then said.

‘Punished?’ you asked somewhat worried as you looked at him.

‘I had thought about spanking you and leaving it at that, but it seems you enjoyed that a lot more than I had considered you would’ Cillian grinned. ‘Which I am more than pleased about, believe me’ he added with an elvish smile before he hoovered back over you.

‘Hmm, what am I going to do to you?’ Cillian murmured, moving forward to whisper huskily close to your ear. The movement had his cock lightly dragging up your back and you could feel how hard he was despite of the fabric of the briefs separating your skin from his.

You tried desperately not to think about how much you wanted to feel him inside you right at that moment, and you closed your eyes, trying to relax, but the feel of his mostly naked body against you was almost too much to bear.

Again, you wiggled your body against him as he briefly ran his hand over your mound.

‘So wet and needy’ he commented as his hand skated down over the lips of your pussy. Inserting one finger in you, he murmured ‘and so tight.’

‘That is a result of all your teasing. Please just fuck me’ you purred, feeling your arousal build again as he slowly moved his finger in and out of your tight hole.

You then felt the finger withdraw from you again and his body lean over yours as Cillian unstrapped you from the bedhead and removed the metal bar in between your ankles, but leaving the cuffs in situ for later perusal.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.

‘Green’ you sighed and gave a small smile.

‘Good’ he then said before pulling you up into his arms.

Your heart began to race and you looked into his deep blue eyes seeing your own need and desire reflected back at you.

Cillian stood and helped you from the bed before he led you to a waist-high padded bench on the other side of the room, and once again Cillian pulled your arms back and joined your wrist cuffs together behind your back as you stood perfectly still. He went to a panel on the wall and retrieved another slightly shorter metal bar and bent to your ankles, attaching them to rings on the cuffs before lengthening the bar and pushing your feet widely apart.

‘Fuck, look at you’ he groaned, finally standing in front of you. His hands cupped your breasts and he lowered his head to one nipple, biting it without much force but enough to make you whimper. His fingers worked at the soft flesh as his mouth continued to tease both nipples to hard points.

‘Do you know what these are?’ he asked, tilting his head.

‘Clamps?’ you questioned in return and gave him a concerned stare.

‘Yes’ he said with a husky voice, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Then, he attached one to your nipple, and you found that, to your surprise, it was easily bearable.

You looked down as he attached the second clamp and let the chain swing freely between your breasts.

‘Hmm’ you moaned, biting your lip just as he tugged on the chain slightly until he saw your grimace.

‘How are you feeling? Cillian asked.

‘Still green, just’ you breathed, not wanting him to tighten them any further.

‘I was hoping for amber’ he smirked and gave the chain a small tug again, causing you to whimper and clench your teeth.

‘Do we have amber?’ he asked in a deep husky voice.

‘Yes fuck, oh god…amber’ you shouted out as Cillian watched you bite your lip.

‘Your nipples are sensitive’ he grinned before telling you again to stay still as he walked away from you momentarily.

‘Oh god, no’ you huffed out, breathing heavily as he returned with the candles, he had earlier lit and placed on one of the shelves.

You had read about this and knew that the hot wax would soon be covering part of your body.

After sharing a passionate kiss, you reluctantly nodded and Cillian captured your eyes with his own as he tilted the candle, slowly pouring hot wax over the skin of your breasts, making you gasp and whine in a long-drawn-out sound.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked once both sides of your breasts were covered with cooling white dots of wax, making the skin around the dots of wax change colour and feed his arousal.

‘Amber’ you looked at him with teary eyes.

Cillian knew that it was the clamps that were causing you the most discomfort, and realising this was your first experience with them decided not to leave them in place any longer. He pulled the chain with a quick tug, making the clamps dig deeply into you before finally sliding free and making your cry out and rock in your stance. He moved to support you, his head lowering to capture and soothe a nipple in his mouth as he fingers gently massaged the other back to life. He spent long minutes going from one to the other as you whimpered softly, and when he finally stepped back he groaned deeply.

There were tear tracks in your make-up, and, where the wax had peeled and flaked away, large splotches marked your skin. Cillian was beyond turned on by the mere sight of you. So much so that he had to consciously get control of himself and breathe deeply.

‘How do you feel?’ he asked softly, reaching out to run a finger over your breast, flicking away some of the larger spots of wax.

‘Green again, I think’ you huffed and you couldn’t believe that, by that point, you were dripping onto the floor. To your surprise, the pain and Cillian pushing your limits turned you on.

‘So sensitive’ Cillian smiled as he played with your nipples again before he lowered his head and dropped a kiss on each one, still trying to regain control of his need to stop the game and just fuck you.

‘Please fuck me Cillian’ you begged, and every other thought about gaining control of his desires fled from Cillian's mind. He picked you up, turning you around and pushed you down over the bench you stood beside. He stepped behind you and thrust into you with a deep groan, stilling his movements for several minutes before pulling back, leaving only the head of his cock embedded in you.

‘You were so eager to have me finger fuck you earlier that you couldn't control yourself from pushing onto my hand. Let's see how well you can hold still now’ Cillian said, groaning deeply as he was all the way inside you and started to drip more wax onto your lower back, making you lurch forward again and turn your head, straining to see him and the candle he now held.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.

‘Green’ you replied automatically and the wax thankfully cooled fast in the small trickle that had run over the top of your ass and down your thigh.

You were desperate for traction, but he gave you none. You felt his cock pulsate inside of you as he poured more wax onto you. You didn't pull away quite so much this time and, for your good behaviour, you were rewarded with several long and steady thrusts, causing you to moan loudly.

You caught on to his game fairly rapidly and, the next time the wax dripped onto your skin, you remained still so that he would continue to fuck you.

Cillian enjoyed your whimpers and jerky movements as he used the wax several more times before finally losing his battle against himself and pushing you forward and pumping into you hard and fast. Aware that he had denied you continually earlier, he used his fingers on your clit and felt you stiffen and arch your back against him.

‘Sir, may I come, please’ you groaned just before the first of your climaxes rolled through your body.

‘Yes princess. You did well’ he finally said and his free hand gripped one of your breasts and held you in the strange hard arch as he continued to fuck you remorselessly, and he felt you shudder and cry out as your orgasm ripped through you.

‘Oh god yes fuck’ you moaned and screamed as you climaxed in a way you never had before and Cillian was soon losing his own battle against his orgasm, but he continued on; one hand working your clit and the other mauling your breast as he pounded you as hard as he could.

Then, another climax rocked you physically, almost causing you to pass out.

By this point, Cillian couldn’t hold on much longer either and, with a loud groan and two more thrusts, he came as hard as you did, spilling his cum deep inside you.

‘Fuck’ Cillian cursed, and with unknown reserves he picked you up and staggered to the bed, freeing you from the bonds on your arms and legs. He felt your pulse and checked your breathing before climbing onto the bed beside you and cradling you in his arms.

‘How are you feeling?’ he then asked, kissing your neck gently as he did.

‘Fucking fantastic’ you murmured as you watched Cillian look all over your body, taking in the marks he had left.

‘I want to do this again…the orgasm after all this, it was out of this world’ you huffed out.

‘I told you it was about pleasure and not just pain’ Cillian said before he groaned deep in his chest as his arousal began to grow again. He didn't think he could ever tire of having you like this.

‘Oh my, eager are we sir?’ you giggled as your breathing had finally returned to normal after all this and you sat up, leaned down and kissed Cillian passionately.

Without giving him a chance to assert dominance over you again, you were quick to climb on top of him and lower yourself down onto his hard cock.

To your surprise, he didn’t protest as you began to fuck him and his warm hands soon found your breasts where he flicked his fingers over your nipples.

‘Oh god, fuck’ you moaned as you rode him and felt the heat seep into your body and the tendrils of pain that radiated from your nipples spread out, helping you climb toward yet another huge climax.

Cillian dropped his hand and, taking careful aim, he spanked you, adding to the already bruised flesh of your ass. You whimpered and moaned, the combined sound once again coming out as a heated high-pitched purr as you rode him and ground down onto his cock. He alternated between the two areas, your breasts and your ass, and reached out to steady you as you arched hard, pushing down into him and shaking almost violently as you came again. The sight of you looking well used and trembling in ecstasy was enough for him to give into the milking muscles of your pussy. He came with you, coating your insides once more with his seed before pulling you down on top of him once your body had relaxed out of the hard arch, and he held you tightly, stroking your hair as you settled back down to earth along with him.

‘I never knew it could be this good’ you whispered as you stroked your hand over Cillian's chest and lay there listening to his racing heartbeat slow.

‘I must say, I never enjoyed it as much as I did tonight with you’ Cillian said gently before kissing you passionately once more.

‘How about we get some sleep, hmm?’ he then asked as he sat up and you momentarily thought that this is where you would be sleeping together.

To your surprise, Cillian was quick to pick you up and carry you upstairs to what clearly was his bedroom.

He then placed you onto the large bed, climbed in next to you and covered both your bodies with the large doona.

After spending aa good two hours together in the basement, you were exhausted and, after a few kisses it didn’t take you long to fall asleep in Cillian’s arm.

***

The following morning you both were woken up by the doorbell ringing at around 8 o’clock.

‘Are you expecting anyone?’ you asked still half asleep and Cillian shook his head before getting up and grabbing a t-shirt from his wardrobe.

‘Coming’ Cillian yelled out as the doorbell rang a second time and he was already on his way downstairs.

Unsure what was going on, you got dressed with whatever you found in Cillian’s cabinet and, when you heard the door for a second time after about ten minutes, you made your way downstairs thinking that, whoever came to visit, had now left.

To your surprise, this wasn’t the case when you saw two women stand in Cillian’s kitchen, making themselves a cup of coffee.

‘Oh hello there.... Cilly, you didn’t tell us you had company’ the blonde woman in her mid-sixties said with a wide a smile before introducing herself to you.

‘I am Leanne, Cillian’s mother’ she said as she quickly grabbed another cup from the cabinet for you.

‘I am Y/N, nice to meet you’ you said somewhat embarrassed before you recalled having seen the other woman who was standing in Cillian’s kitchen before. It was Cillian’s sister who he had dinner with at the restaurant that night he asked you out.

After Cillian introduced you to his sister, he mentioned to you that his mother likes to come and visit unannounced whenever she stays with his sister and the grandchildren.

‘Well darling, I just need to make sure my son is doing alright and has enough to eat’ she said with a wink as she unpacked a whole big rattan basket full of homemade scones, jam and some homemade bread.

‘I always told him that he needs a good woman in his life’ she then said as she walked over towards you and handed you one of the scones.

‘Scones for breakfast?’ Cillian chuckled as he watched his mother inspecting you.

‘Love, you have something stuck to your hair…may I?’ his mum then asked and you turned around which is when she pulled a bit of wax from the back of your neck and hair.

‘Looks like wax’ she then chuckled before putting the piece of candle wax on the kitchen bench.

Her actions caused you to flush with embarrassment and you hoped that she wouldn’t notice the marks on your legs and wrists from where the cuffs were affixed the evening before.

‘Well, Y/N does like candles’ Cillian smirked as he bit into his scone almost unbothered by his mother’s presence.

‘Oh Love, you should come to the farmers markets with us then. We are leaving at 10 o’clock. They have fantastic home-made candles for sale. Then you could come and have lunch with us. I always make a roast on Sundays’ Cillian’s mother suggested.

‘Mum’s roast is the best. Do you want to come? I might even come along to the markets, eh’ Cillian then said, catching you by surprise.

‘Yes, uhm…I would love to. Thank you’ you responded shyly.

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[westmoor]

the hart

(��- the fox. «- the hare)

(3.6k, shifter!jaskier, geraskier. some angst, some anxiety, some whump and violence - and healing.)

Destiny had favoured him, or so he’d thought.

Jaskier had been a different creature then. For the creature he is now, the world has little mercy.

Whatever courage youth had given him, darting down secret alleys on daring quests in the streets of Oxenfurt, skittering past the guards of his childhood estate to chase whatever whims the night presented, it’s all gone now.

Driven out by the dying light of day, vacant darkness with its tendrils crawling closer, growing longer, lean and frail. Grasping until they find him, take and remake him, warping his body to this shape he doesn’t recognize. And at last, plunging his world into one of twisting nightmares, undulating breaths hot and heaving through the grass, and the shadowed beasts stalking, searching, as the last remnants of his fortitude slips away under his feet.

Silence, he thinks, is the only mercy spared for creatures like him.

Beyond the concert of the dawn chorus, the lyric of a nightingale at dusk, the mourning of wolves calling their distant brethren as the season grows colder, there’s another world of sound. Imperceptible to all but those that live in frequent danger, that hold their breath and press their bellies to the ground in fields and meadows, straining their ears for a sign to flee.

Sudden fluttering of wagtails and startled sparrows. Squirrels hoarsely chattering above. Watchful rabbits drumming in the thicket, ordering their children underground.

He tries to wield it, to wrap himself in it. If he stays in this voiceless creature long enough, breathes quietly enough, perhaps the savagery that trails the luscious scent of prey in his tracks will go on by, and forget about him altogether.

Perhaps if he is good enough, hides deep enough - perhaps he can forget, too. Forget about foxes and hares and men with infections in their hearts, about whichever sickness has taken hold in him.

Or perhaps his luck runs out, like it so often does for those whose lives are favoured more by chance than destiny. Then, well, that is just a different sort of silence.

But for Jaskier, when chance fails him and he finds himself outwitted and caught in the jaws of that ultimate mercy, silence doesn’t come.

Instead, what finds him is a threadbare cloak, a smouldering campfire, a red mare, and the steady hands of a witcher.

--

They make it back to the little clearing he had run from, Jaskier’s cloth-wound body bundled in Geralt’s arm like something precious.

As shock begins to lose its grip on his mind, peeling back the layer of numbness he’s been afforded, the pain comes seeping back. With every step and jostle, something rattles in his chest. His joints move, but they move wrong.

He doesn’t know if bones this brittle are made to heal, or if this is just a body built for breaking. The icy wet that trickles through his coat is almost a distraction.

It hurts so much. It should hurt more.

He doesn’t even have a voice to whimper in.

It’s not until he’s lowered gently to the ground that he realises where they are, recognizes the low-hanging branches and the saddlebags piled haphazardly where he’d last seen Geralt standing. Recognizes too the wave that now, his panic bled out into the musty leaves somewhere on the forest floor behind them, feels more like shame. Thought battles instinct in his frayed mind and he knows he cannot run, but he cannot stay, and -

And had he been an excess burden in Geralt’s life before, then now, surely -

For eyes as wide as his, meant to discern between friend and foe at a league, any feature this close might as well be cruel. The details of his face are unclear as Geralt leans over him.

But he does know movement. Feels the fingertip that strokes the divot in his forehead. Geralt speaks, but the tone is clearer than the words, and it isn’t harsh. While passing over dirtied fur, easing down his ears, the other hand moves into the space between them and makes a sign.

Just like that, Jaskier’s world grows small again.

Slowly, the phantoms crouching at his vision’s edge recede, forced back beyond the shadows of the trees, kept at bay by scant firelight. Mighty trunks stand sentinel, barring their return.

Gone is the endless sky and the swift death that soars there. Gone too are the open fields and the dangers that prowl them, pointed snouts pressed to the ground, wetting their tongues at the scent of his injury.

He only knows what moves within this temporary refuge - tonight in the forest, tomorrow in the field - and the rounded silhouettes of those that could, but would not harm him.

There is no grand reckoning. No speech or lofty monologue, no words to twist or tones to ring false. Geralt doesn’t beg for forgiveness, makes no excuses, but he talks - low and smooth, for as long as Jaskier is awake to hear it.

The words will have faded from memory by dawn, but their essence remains - the solemn promise made that night, heard by none but the tall pines, a red mare, and himself. The one wrapped around him like a cloak, applied in layers of soothing honeyed balm over claw marks and wounds before it is spoken into existence: That no new hurt will find him here.

It’s a tedious process, but Geralt is right: his body does heal. Though the first week or so is spent under a dim fog brought by his witcher’s hand, it requires a restraint he never knew he had to hold out until his flesh starts to knit together.

Once his bones grow strong enough not to snap under the pressure as they twist in their fastenings, he finds the gap between one form and the other, and wills it open.

The transformation, though not always voluntary, had always come easy. This does not. It feels like fitting an old key, like forcing a lock that’s threatening to rust shut, throwing his weight against it in the hopes that the bar gives before the hinge.

He takes his first breath in the ribcage of a man like one saved from drowning. It burns and strains, and he is dizzy with the sudden height - but relief floods him like a tidal pool, and drowns out every other sensation.

When he looks up, Geralt is there, holding his clothes and lute, the things he’d left behind when they became too much to carry.

That becomes a pattern.

I am healed, he tells himself, and tells himself until he believes it, once his shoulder bends and deep breaths come painlessly. He believes it when he sings the songs of great grey beasts and their mountain brothers, terrible monsters and greater heroes, piecing together their stories bit by bit.

I will be healed, he decides, and tries to forget the songs about moorhens’ clucking and black little paws through the dew. Putting those pieces together not because they fit, but because they must, and tries to lose the ones left over.

But more often than not, Geralt is there and he picks them up, one by one, and hands them back in all the right order.

“You weren’t a hare when we met,” Geralt states one evening, in a moment of relative quiet - as quiet as their evenings are, one tuning his lute and the other sharpening the hunting knife he’d just tried to give Jaskier a lesson in wielding.

As if conjured by the mention of its name, Jaskier’s heart sets to beating. Although many unsaid things had become topics of conversation lately, neither had tried putting words to that. He suppresses the nervous shudder that crawls along his neck.

“I’m not a hare now either,” he says, and though it’s phrased in jest, it’s a reminder more than anything else: That he is not prey, and he will not run.

Geralt dismisses it with a grunt, and Jaskier knows that wasn’t what he had meant. There was a question in that statement, one of the dozens he himself had pondered over years, though he’s not sure which one exactly. Luckily, they all have the same answer.

“I don’t know,” he says, and the pressure at the back of his throat and how the words in his head refuse to conform into sentences tells him whatever comes next will be a ramble. While he’s never had trouble speaking frankly, honesty is harder. !I don’t know when or why or… how. Not how it started, even. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t - or when I didn’t - whatever I am.”

He’s aware that he’s stopped playing. Looking at his hands still poised over the strings, he wills the stream to slow, and tries to find solid ground to stand on. Geralt, bless him, gives him time.

“I believe it changed, though,” he continues once the whirling pool in his stomach has settled, when he’s less at risk of going under. “When we were in Rinde - perhaps later? I felt as though I’d come apart. Like a music box shattered on the floor and put back together, looking just like it had before, but the melody not playing the same.”

“In Rinde,” Geralt repeats, frown deepening with something akin to guilt. “Do you think the djinn, or Yen…?”

Jaskier has thought about it. Still thinks about it, when it all comes seeping through a bedroom window, when the sweet beckoning of the wind outside becomes curses. When it raps at the glass and taunts him for hiding his face in borrowed blankets or warm skin of a stranger, laughing at his cowardice. He remembers going out of tune, dissonant thrumming at his core at the disturbance of foreign magic.

“Yes,” he says.

But he also remembers Geralt’s gaze falling on another, losing the weight of it and coming unmoored. A beautiful sorceress, soft arms wrapped around rough, hushed voices ringing in unison. Seasons shifting and roads turning under his feet as he followed that to which he had tethered his dreams and aspirations. He remembers the scent of smoke and hunt and howl, and laying claim to a home, to a heart that wasn’t offered.

“But I think it was me, too,” he finishes. “I think the djinn - or Yennefer - or something may have pulled my pegs loose, so to speak. But the shape I took, that was mine.”

He’s always found it curious - if sometimes unfortunate - how words not intended to be spoken aloud but come by their own volition often seem to manifest more strongly than those initially planned. How much harder they are to ignore.

Curious, too, how a thing once named becomes tangible and must, at least in concept, adhere to the rules and limitations of the real world. How it can be touched and held, put away and taken out, turned over until it stops hurting.

The nights grow long in the wilderness, and the passing of summer shortens the days. And while he is no longer driven to bolt from his skin in fits that feel like madness, the whispers of the dark still tinge the air he breathes with the sweetness of rock-rose and blackberry. There are nights when it becomes inevitable, when he knows before the sun has set that the carefully balanced scales of temptation and trepidation will tip, and he will spend the hours of darkness trapped within this animal that cannot sing.

But even then, there is respite.

An index finger easing the tension of his furred head, careful strokes to coax his ears from their rigid stance, from turning at any sound real or imagined. Palms coming settling over his temples, roughened fingertips on bare skin, providing solid walls against all that feels too vast to comprehend, and reducing his world to just what can be held between two hands.

If the drumming of rabbits is his signal of peril, the signal of peace becomes the rhythm of a slow and steady heart, beating faithfully in the chest just beneath his ear.

It’s there, in the secluded space between their bodies where he draws circles to match the caresses over the small of his back, that he finds the courage to unearth the fragments of what he once was, mismatched bones and unmoored thoughts and instincts all he has been unable to lose, and starts to mold them back together into something recognizable.

As the thing that has sprouted and grown lush from the ruins of what was between them matures and turns vibrant, so do the leaves.

Autumn brings abundance the likes of which he has barely known. Roadsides overflow with wildberries to rival the richest vineyards of Toussaint. Cider sweet as honey pours in every tavern in their way, pressed apples picked from branches hung so low to the ground they must've sighed with relief at the loss of their burden.

Yet no sun-warmed apple cider shines as golden, nor has any Toussaint wine rendered him as drunk as his lover’s eyes or lips on his. At his side, in his arms, Jaskier finds the hollow indentations of a former self still vacant, still waiting. And the corresponding edges, worn smooth like river rocks over time, fall into place with such ease he wonders how they ever came apart at all.

There, safe under Geralt’s gentle touch, the wild may call all it wants.

--

Another forest’s edge, another contract, another waning moon.

Jaskier stokes the fire, tending to the warding light, wondering idly whether flames ignited by a Witcher’s sign hold more power than those lit by mere mortals. He likes to think they do. If he leans into it, he can easily convince himself of Geralt’s grounding presence remaining long after his footsteps are lost in the undergrowth. Behind him, Roach grazes in a patch of clovers, her calm tempering even the most skittish of his natures.

It is still, stiller than it has been for a while. The slight gale that picked up at the setting sun has dwindled to a breeze. He thought about unpacking his lute near an hour ago, but wouldn’t risk disturbing the sanctity of the evening, its melody would feel too far out of place in the arrangement of grasshoppers and midnight warblers.

Even to his human senses, animals of bush and green play in concert - from the whip of a falcon’s wings to the complaints of adolescent woodgrouse reluctant to leave their natal clutch - unknowingly orchestrated, and all of them distant. None, no matter their place in nature's hierarchy, dare test their mettle against the ever-present sense of death and danger that shrouds the dwelling of a witcher.

They stir and fuss, some waking while others settle down to sleep, until they don’t.

Jaskier’s buried instincts know it before his waking mind does, the urgent shift in pace and tune, discordant notes of prey’s first warning.

He listens intently.

It must be large, or voracious, or both. Seldom does a simple beast inspire such disquiet, word of its advances sending ripples of caution to every ear that knows to harken.

Be quick, they say, or be quiet.

Though he can’t make out the movements of the thing itself, the tell-tale cries and rattles of other creatures point its path. A bird takes wing, then another, each one closer and all too close to their camp.

Roach stands frozen, nostrils flared. He thinks he can hear it now. Smell the stench of its breath if he tries, make out its shape in there amongst the trees, moving with far too much stealth for anything that size. Too large for a cat, too quiet for a bear.

It closes in, so near now that a crouch, a leap, might take it into their midst.

Jaskier holds his breath. There is nothing else to do. Not as a fox, or a hare, or a man. Nothing to do but wait.

Whether real or supplied by imagination, he hears it scuff at the ground, draw a deep lungful of scent down into its massive body. And then it moves - away, back into the woods.

For a moment, he welcomes the silence, rushing elation that fortune has yet to claim his debts. But realization doesn’t follow far behind.

No wild thing would come upon a witcher by accident. None could miss the scent of one, and none should come so close to it before changing their mind, unless...

The lone hunter, whatever its goals, has picked a fresher trail: Geralt’s.

It’s ill-advised. More so, it’s stupid. The knife feels foreign in his hand.

He’s not such a fool that he thinks he can fight it, or that the blade or his ability to wield it would make any difference at all. But he must do something, needs to try. If only he can warn Geralt, call out in time and let him know before the beast can pounce…

But it moves fast, and his eyes are slaves to the light, inadequate under the ceiling of leaves and branches. Soon, he hardly knows if he follows it at all.

Every fiber of his being wills against abandoning this last shred of defense, but he knows he has no choice, not if he is to make it.

The knife lands with a thump, the soft ground cushioning its fall. For the first time in a long time, by his own volition, Jaskier shuts his eyes and folds his frame in on itself, opening them to a world tall and vast and all too sharp.

Speed is on his side. This is a body made for running, and run it does. By whatever force his kind is blessed, by fate or chance or both, nothing stands in his way. Though moments wasted on doubt comes at a price, and though he covers ground thrice as fast, he can’t gain it all back.

His vision is wide. The white of Geralt’s head, back turned as he brings his weight down to end the last of the ghouls, lights it like a beacon.

And the ragged shape, hulking even where it’s coiled to spring, attention locked to Geralt’s undefended back with an intensity that swears violence. Canine eyes do not glow, but in that moment, in his world of ash and shadow, Jaskier swears the werewolf’s eyes shine red.

And a hare’s cry, no matter his haste, no matter how shrill, holds no power to them.

He sees everything at once.

Glints of teeth under snarling lips as it jumps. The flash of the witcher’s blade as it swings too high, going clear of the werewolf’s head.

Its jaws lock at his side, tearing through armour and sinew into muscle, grating against bone. Jaskier has never heard a sound like this. Not from man, or from beast. Not from Geralt. It's sheer anguish turned vocal.

Something in him breaks, then.

Like an old joint, once healed wrong and calcified, cracking open to swing freely. It hurts at first. The snap, burning white-hot and blinding. And then: Euphoria.

His body regresses to the confines of a man, and beyond. The change is too fast to feel, too fast to track.

A new form, new instincts bursting through before he knows how to tame them. Fear gives way to fury. By the time he knows he is moving, he has already moved.

It takes no thought at all to lower his head. To align his skull and spine. Leap from his spot.

The impact ought to hurt, but it doesn’t. There’s an audible crack as something breaks, but not from him. Neither is the inhuman yowl that follows, sound reverberating through the forest.

The smell of blood fills his lungs. He doesn’t balk at it.

His face runs warm, runs wet. Twisting to free himself of frantic limbs and mottled fur, he shakes his antlers to strike again. This time, he finds the wolf yielding, limping back just shy of his sharpened crown. When it flees, he thinks to follow, to make up for every night and every hour spent in terror, driven underground by lesser beasts than this.

But Geralt’s scream still echoes in him, the sound of it a weight he cannot bear, couldn’t move under had he tried.

In the moment it takes to hesitate, doubt rears its head. Face awash and prongs painted red with the blood of another living thing, he feels about as far from the self he has learned to accept as one can come. To anyone else, he must look monstrous.

But when he turns, Geralt isn’t looking at him with disgust. Not with scorn, either. Or pity, or any other thing Jaskier had thought he’d face if he spoke the truth of his nature all those years ago.

Geralt raises the arm at his uninjured side. Had Jaskier been smaller, and softer, he would’ve slipped under it, curled up in the hollow at his witcher’s throat and stayed there, felt his heart beat and his chest rise until morning came to see them hale.

Instead, Geralt steadies himself with a hand on his neck and draws close. Giving more of his balance Jaskier than perhaps he means to, but no more than Jaskier can hold, his breaths so deep they might as well be sobs.

There are words to be had. Answers to be found. Leagues to walk, and promises to keep.

Soon enough, winter winds will sweep down across the continent, summons ringing from empty halls in far northern mountains, and they will answer.

But for now, Jaskier is home.

For now, the witcher leans his forehead against that of his hart - or fox, or hare, or bard - knowing that neither will follow that path alone.

At the edge of the woods and throughout the field beyond, rabbits cease their drumming, and the first few songbirds wake to herald the dawn.

--

Sorry for showing up half-assed four months late?

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@tsukuyomi-selene and @herostag asked to be tagged for this one in particular, I think?

[britt-writes]

Lucas and cockwarming maybe................?????😳

I was originally going to do headcanons, but I ended up getting inspired for a drabble. I've never written anything centered around cockwarming, so I hope this is adequate!

Warning: NSFW content below the cut. 🔞

CW: Cockwarming, dirty talk, afab!reader

Drabble title: Sit Tight

Prompt: Cockwarming

Word count: 1,304

This was just about the ultimate test of your patience, though that patience was quickly running thin; you'd be edged into a near breakdown if this went on any longer. The torture was real, but you had a feeling that it was exactly what Lucas wanted.

As you kept seated upon Lucas' lap while he busied himself on his computer, you had to focus on anything, anything but Lucas' hard cock seethed deep inside your pussy. But who the fuck were you kidding? With your mind so hazy and going dumb from the sheer need you felt, there was nothing that could distract you.

Lucas pulled a sharp gasp from you when he gave a single, deep thrust. It almost gave you hope that he'd finally cave and fuck your greedy little pussy, but that hope quickly vanished, the most pitiful whine you've ever heard sounding from you as he stilled once more inside of you.

You wished that he hadn't done that; it was a cruel move on his part that left you unsatisfied and craving his cock even more. And Lucas knew what he was doing to you— enjoyed it, even. You couldn't see him, but you knew damn well that the bastard's lips had curled into a satisfied smirk upon hearing your pathetic whining.

"You feelin' alright there, darlin'?" Lucas cooed, though you could hear the slight mockery in his tone. "What's it like jus' sittin' on mah dick like that? Hm? Comfy?"

You didn't want to give Lucas the satisfaction of being so fucking sexually frustrated, but the hot arousal seeping from you, and your deep and laboured breaths gave you away.

Desperation soon overwhelmed you, causing you to slowly writhe your hips in an attempt to get even the slightest amount of friction. You hoped to be subtle in your actions, not wanting Lucas to take notice.

"Tsk. Did I say anythin' about movin'? Don't think yer bein' subtle there, babygirl," Lucas said, gripping at your hips to firmly hold you in place.

"Lucas, please. I just— fuck. I need you so bad," you begged, voice cracking.

Your pleas fell on deaf ears. "No can do, darlin'. S'nice an' warm in there. I'm fuckin' comfortable, so hold still."

"Lucas…"

"C'mon, purrty thing," he whispered in your ear. "You can do that fer me. Jus' do what I say, and I'll give it to ya real good when I feel that you deserve it."

"W-When's that gonna be?" You asked.

He snickered, finding your desperate state amusing. "Aw, look at ya! It ain't like ya to be impatient like this. The more ya squirm, the longer you'll wait."

You groaned, finding it nearly impossible to resist the temptation of moving; you were just dying to have that deliciously large cock split you apart. How Lucas of all people was able to keep his shit together during this entire ordeal was beyond you; he was the last person you'd think to be able to resist pounding into you.

"Shit, babygirl," he groaned. "That is one sloppy cunt y'ave got there. Yer leakin' all over me."

Lucas bucked his hips once more, earning a strained moan from you. Tingles ran down your spine as the aching in your core became insufferable.

"Lucas! S-Stop doing that," you said.

"Oops," Lucas mocked, loving how much he was breaking you.

You weren't sure if your ears had deceived you, but you swore you heard Lucas' voice shake, as if he too was on the brink of letting his arousal take over. Perhaps, if you begged for more in that broken, needy tone of yours he loved so much, he'd finally fill you up with some cum.

"Please, babe, I'm so fucking horny for you. I need that fat cock to fuck me," you pleaded. "I know you want it too."

"Tryin' to sweet talk me into movin'?" Lucas chuckled. "Nice try, but it ain't happenin' yet."

You stayed silent, trying your best to stay as still as possible and hoping to God Lucas would come around sooner or later. Your core was fucking stirring from the sensation of Lucas' dick remaining firmly plugged deep inside of you, not providing any relief but instead serving as a way to tease you, taunt you and remind you that he was in control.

Your breaths grew increasingly hot and heavy as Lucas' cock pulsed up and down inside of you, just barely tickling your most sensitive area. Judging by the laughter coming from your lover, he was doing this intentionally.

"You're fucking cruel," you whined. Your throat was dry, and you sounded dehydrated.

"I'm just havin' some fun withcha," he said.

Chapped lips pressed against your neck, gently sucking at the overly sensitive flesh. A mixture between a whine and a moan escaped you when you felt Lucas' tongue trail along your pulse.

Your skin was hot; you felt like it was on fire. Minimal movements of his tongue and lips were enough to have you shivering and whimpering, only intensifying the difficulty of remaining still.

You couldn't help yourself when you moved your hands to your pussy, pressing your fingers against your clit. The slight touch was enough to send a multitude of shockwaves throughout your body. It almost felt too sensitive; all of your senses were going haywire.

No matter how stupid the thought was, you hoped Lucas wouldn't take notice of the way your fingers rubbed your swollen nub. Subtlety was going out the door as you picked up the pace, moaning and desperate for an orgasm, though your wrists were soon seized by Lucas, gripping them tightly as he placed your hands on his desk.

Lucas clicked his tongue. "Keep bein' like that, and I'll fuckin' tie you up an' leave ya hangin'. S'that whatcha want, darlin'?"

When you didn't answer him, Lucas wrapped a large hand around your neck. Although not restricting airflow, he made sure to assert his dominance over you.

"Is it?" He pressed.

"No…"

"That's what I thought," he said, removing his hand from your throat. "Now, you're gonna keep your hands on the desk. Think you can hold fer another five minutes?"

"I don't know… maybe?" You said.

"Don't touch yourself, and don't try to ride mah dick. If you can hold still fer another five minutes, I'll give you what you want," Lucas said, thrusting into you for emphasis. "Think you can handle that?"

You nodded, humming since you didn't trust your voice for the moment. You were torn between crying in desperation at the thought of having to wait any longer, and crying for joy because it was just five minutes. You could handle that, right?

But Lucas wasn't making it easy for you to sit still. He whispered absolute filth to you, making sure you felt his warm breath on your ear as he told you what he'd do to you, how he'd break you and make you scream with pleasure.

His fingers dug into your thighs, thumbs ghosting over your puffy lips and giving your clit some very soft flicks that left you dying for more touch. His hands would slither up your body to grip at your breasts, making sure to take your nipples between his fingers.

Everything he said and did made it a challenge for you to keep nesting his cock. How the hell could you stay calm with Lucas pushing your limits like he was?

Through sheer willpower, you survived the five minutes; the reward at the end of those five minutes motivated you to play along Lucas' little game.

"Atta girl," Lucas cooed.

He pushed you up as he stood from his chair as well, keeping you bent over his desk. One hand gripped at your hips while the other was pressed between your shoulder blades.

'Finally,' was all you could think.

[miss-smutty]

Forbidden

Chapter 3

A/N- Evey couple of chapters you will get Professor Hemsworth's POV and this is the first one 🥵 I really wanted to write his story and hear his thoughts too.

Summary- He can't get her out of his mind, the girl in the coffee shop. Will fate bring them together again?

Word count- 2.9K

Pairing- Prof!Hems X Reader

Warnings- Age gap (OC is 20) student/professor relationship, swearing, dirty talk

18+ Only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 5th Sept 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle @help2700 @presidentpotts

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chris Pov

My Apartment was silent as usual, empty like always when I arrived home from work, throwing my coat and bag on to the sofa and slumping down next to them.

I couldn't stand the silence, it taunted me and brought back memories I'd rather not remember. I'd thought about getting a roommate but still hadn't gotten around to posting out an ad, the idea made me nervous. Although I hated being alone, living with a stranger would be even worse. I turned on the TV to fill the expanse of the large empty room that I'd work so hard for but ultimately meant absolutely nothing to me.

My mind began to wander back to this morning and the chance meeting with the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on. She'd taken my breath away and made me so nervous that I'd used some cheesy chat up line. I'd known at the time it would come back to haunt me tonight, no wonder she ran out of there as soon as she could. Thats why I hesitated, my hand brushed against the small of her back when I was about to ask her for her number and it took away my sensibility. I leaned in like I was about to kiss her, thank god I stopped myself though, how ridiculous would that have been?

I'd spoke to her for no more than ten minutes but somehow felt like I'd known her all my life. Asking for her number wouldn't have been the most unusual thing but she was in such a rush and I didn't want to make her late. There's absolutely nothing more I hate than tardiness.

I still couldn't get her off of my mind, she was beautiful, long dark hair that flowed down her back and the most piercing green eyes I'd ever seen. I couldn't stop looking into them, framed by dark eyelashes that made the emerald green pop even more. It's been a long time since I'd met a woman that made me feel as nervous as she did. The only thing is, she was young, much younger than me and I'd be fooling myself to think I'd actually stand a chance with her. Even if by some miracle I did, she deserved more than what I could give her, I was a mess, even after all this time I was still living in the past.

**********

I woke up feeling like a teenage boy again, a tent of my erection in the cotton sheets sprawled across my middle. I'd dreamt about the girl all night and honestly nothing about it was innocent. I rubbed at my eyes and stretched my muscles before finally getting out of bed, I had my first Junior Comms class to teach today and of course, I couldn't be late.

To say I was dreading today would be an understatement, I'd made a deal with the Dean to teach the Comms class because none of the other professors were willing and I was desperate for a job. I was hoping that if I exceeded expectations during my first semester I would finally get to teach psychology like I'd planned in the first place. Of course that meant being on my best behaviour and a lot of arse kissing, which I would do, albeit reluctantly.

The air was crisp this morning as I set off walking towards the university, luckily for me I didn't live to far away from the campus and the walk would help distract my thoughts because God knows they needed distracting. They always did.

Before I knew it, I'd arrived at the halls, looking up at the architecture of the building and realising my idea to walk obviously hadn't worked. I'd barely paid attention the entire time and it was only muscle memory that had gotten me to my required destination.

I held onto the door handle of the lecture hall and took a deep breath before stepping in, the room erupting into wolf whistles was not what I expected but admittedly better than what I was thinking. I scanned the room and my students, rolling my eyes at the girls lining the front row, their eager faces taking me in. 

The class was full of typical students, the usual cliques you see at every educational institution. The jocks and cheerleaders, the nerds and oh fuck. The air was almost knocked from my lungs when I spotted her sat at the back of class. The girl I'd been talking to in the coffee shop yesterday, the girl that had been on my mind and in my dreams ever since. She was here, right in front of me which meant she was my student and younger than I'd actually thought. Fuck.

Even though she was now out of bounds I couldn't take my goddamn eyes off of her, the way her wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders. I could feel my cock tingling when my eyes fell to her low cut top and that unreal cleavage. I pulled my eyes away from her so as not to draw attention and focused on preparing for the lesson, leaving the students to whisper for a while longer while I recovered my composure.

Like a magnet, my eyes unwillingly kept finding their way back to her and she looked uncomfortable, squirming in her seat. I was making her uncomfortable and I still couldn't stop myself, I frowned as I subtly watched her cheeks blush and realised she's probably embarrassed because she'd been flirting with her Professor. Of course she'd be embarrassed, I was so much older than her but was it wrong that I didn't feel one ounce of awkwardness at the fact I had been flirting with a student?

All I could think about as I watched her tits bounce as she moved In her seat, was burying my face in her cleavage and I knew I had to look away before my dick reacted. The last thing I needed in a class full of students was to be walking around with a fucking erection.

I could stand there and watch her all day but certain students had stopped talking and they were waiting for me to speak and I'd almost forgotten why I was here In the first place. I really needed to get my head in the game, being infatuated with a student would definitely not get me the promotion I was looking for.

I pushed my hands in my tight pockets, hoping to stretch the fabric a little so my semi-hard dick wasn't so apparent, then my eyes were drawn to her again and she was talking to Jake. That pissed me off and I could feel my jaw tensing as I cleared my throat rather forcibly, hoping to get the attention of the whole class at the same time as distracting her from the rather friendly conversation she was having with another guy. A guy her age at that.

"Now I've got your attention, we're going to use our first session to get to know each other a little better. You'll be doing quite a lot of speeches so it's best if you feel comfortable with one another. I'll start by introducing myself." I looked at her again, gulping hard when I saw her with the end of her pen in her mouth and the way her lips wrapped around it. Fuck. "So, I'm Professor Hemsworth and I'm originally from Melbourne in Australia." I looked to her and she smiled, remembering what we spoke about yesterday.

A student started with the typical Australian stereotypes although I'm actually surprised no one told me to throw another shrimp on the Barbie. I laughed along anyway, I'd been expecting it, it's literally the first thing anyone who isn't Australian says when they first meet me. So when I told him it wasn't very original I meant it, I'd heard it a thousand times before and I'll hear it a thousand times again.

I told the class a little about myself before informing them they would do the same, it didn't go down well, the room filled with groans. I looked to her and she looked downright terrified, I sympathized for her, it wasn't easy speaking in front of a room full of people but was the best way to break the ice.

"Claire Abbott." I called, watching the blonde at the front stand, nervously. She giggled and twirled her hair around her finger as she smiled at me, I knew what she was doing. I quickly glanced at the girl from the coffee shop as she rolled her eyes at the blonde at the front, I smirked back at her, amused at her tolerance for predictable girls.

"I erm… I don't know what to say?" The blonde said, looking at me questioningly.

"Just anything about yourself that we might find interesting, the first thing that comes to mind."

"Well I own four horses and I'm the cheer captain." I had to stop myself from laughing when she rolled her eyes again but the smile soon disappeared when I saw Jake lean over to speak to her and the way she laughed at him made my blood boil. I was seething, not because they were speaking instead of listening but because she was speaking to him instead of me.

"You two at the back, we'll wait for you shall we?" I called them out, my voice more stern than I expected. I was pissed off that Jake would easily be able to get to know her and I couldn't. She stared at me, her eyes wide, she was surprised I'd called them out in front of everyone which made me even more pissed off because that probably blew my chances even more. What the hell am I thinking? What chances, I need to remember I'm her fucking Professor.

She sat silently through the rest of the class, I still couldn't keep my eyes off of her and thankfully neither could she. She looked flustered and I liked it, I liked that I could make her feel that way without even touching her. She was so goddamn hot I could hardly concentrate on what the other students were saying.

When I glanced down at the sheet of names in front of me and saw Jake's name my jaw clenched.

"Jake Hudson." I couldn't help narrowing my eyes as he stood up, I just knew he'd say something cocky and I was so fucking jealous of him right now. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath, I needed to keep my cool, especially in a room full of students and her. If she knew what I was really like she wouldn't look at me the way she did.

"Hi, I'm Jake." I bit onto the inside of my gum, that bit of pain keeping me grounded. "I'm also from Australia." He gave me that fucking cocky half arsed smile I'd been waiting for and the adrenaline shot through me. I was thankful no one noticed apart from maybe the one person in here I didn't want to notice. She was watching me carefully. I had to loosen my tie a little as he continued to speak, I was burning up with rage.

I'm glad class was almost over, I needed a stiff drink and I needed it now. I looked at my sheet of names again and there were only a couple left, I wondered which one was hers. I needed to know her name. Fuck. I needed to know everything about her.

"Jessica Watson." She stood up. Fuck, Jessica, it was a cute name and fit her perfectly. I was mesmerized with her and the way she spoke as she tucked her long hair behind her ears. "These last couple of days have been pretty eventful for me." She looked right at me, what was she going to say? "I'm living the life of a romance novels heroine and I'm excited to see what the next couple of days bring." Oh fuck. Was she talking about meeting me? Or Jake? I like to think by the way she studied me as she spoke, she was talking about me. This was wrong, so wrong but why did it feel so right? I forgot there was anybody else in the room, my cock twinging as I pictured myself fucking her on this desk. I needed to stop thinking like this, it's unprofessional and completely immoral. I shook my head and turned back to the class.

"I hope we all feel a bit more comfortable with each other now, some of you shared some pretty revealing things." I looked at Jessica. "Some of you, not so much." Then raised my eyebrows at a group of guys in the middle of class that had used thier time to inform everyone about the party at their frat house this weekend. "I'll have a schedule for you all next time I see you, anybody that has any questions can see me after class, everyone else is free to leave." I looked at her one last time, hoping she'd use this opportunity to come and speak to me.

I sighed when I sat back at my desk and a group of girls took their opportunity, I wasn't in the mood for it but answered their questions anyway. I didn't take my eyes from Jessica, especially when Jake started speaking to her again. The girls in front of me were taking up my time, trying to flirt with me instead of asking relevant questions and I was over it.

"Do you actually have any questions about the course ladies? I have other things to be getting on with if not." I was a little short with them without actually meaning to be. I just wanted them out of my goddamn way so I could see what was going on with Jessica and Jake.

The girls finally left, more like stormed off but I couldn't care less right now. She was still sat at her desk which means she waited until I was alone which has got to be a good sign. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, the silence driving me insane so I cleared my throat and she blinked like I'd woken her from a daydream. What was she thinking about?

She packed up her things into her bag slowly, I could tell she was buying herself time but I felt relaxed now we were alone, in fact I felt excited which was completely ridiculous. I felt like a damn teenager.

"Did you need to talk Miss Watson?" I was amused and I needed to break the ice before the silence got the better of me. I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest.

"I erm…" She walked towards me, down the stairs, looking at her feet. She was unsteady and looked nervous as hell, was she going to tell me to back off? "I wanted to apologise, I had no idea you were a Professor." She stood at the bottom of the stairs, I was glad she wasn't too close. I don't know if I'd be able to control myself around her and lord knows I had to. The atmosphere was tense, neither of us really knowing what to say or do, all I could think about was ripping off her clothes.

"There's no need to apologise Miss Watson, I also had no idea you were a student but I was hoping to bump into you again. Funny how things work out isn't it?" I cocked my eyebrow at her, testing her, seeing how she would react to my comment. Something changed and she didn't look quite so nervous anymore.

"I think fate can be rather cruel Professor Hemsworth." The way she called me Professor stirred something deep inside me, a hunger I didn't know I had and when she moved closer to me I began to feel nervous.

"Oh really? Why is that Miss Watson?" She was so close now, I could smell her sweet scent of coconut shampoo. I wanted to touch her badly, I didn't though. I didn't dare because I knew if I did I wouldn't be able to stop myself and I must restrain, she's my student after all. It's wrong. It's forbidden.

I still couldn't stop myself from flirting, like an uncontrollable impulse and as soon as I opened my mouth to try and be professional I would just go right ahead and flirt. She was so outrageously attractive but the kind of attractive where she didn't know it and didn't flaunt it, which I found even more endearing.

"I was hoping to bump into you again too, only now the thought of what could've happened will have to remain a fantasy." My restraint was really being tested now, she was teasing me, egging me on and the fact she'd also been fantasising about me made it extra difficult to resist. I had to loosen my tie again, I needed my fingers to be busy so I didn't touch her. I had an internal conflict going on inside my mind and it was like torture, if this was day one of class how the hell was I meant to survive the whole semester?

"I better get to my next class, we can't have anyone thinking I'm your favourite now can we?" Fuck sake. I ground my teeth together, I was glad she was leaving, I couldn't take the tension any longer but at the same time I knew, with distance the desire would only intensify. She turned to leave and I couldn't stop myself watching her hips sway as she walked, her ass was so round and bouncy, it hypnotised me and that's when I knew I was in deep trouble.

[teddy06writes]

sapnap x reader where the readers first language is greek and they confess to him in greek without knowing he speaks it too ? i love ur writing btw !! :)

sapnap x reader

first of all, this is such a cute idea and I love it, second of all, I DO NOT KNOW GREEK, so apologize in advance for anything google translate gets wrong

trigger warnings: some swearing, drinking

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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You’d first seen him from across the quad, whilst searching for a distraction from the boring chattering of your mother on the phone, the dirty blonde man also lost in conversation with the brunette who’d walked beside him.

You continued to watched them on their path through the mess of kids on benches or even the ground, tracing his familiarity to one of your lectures on software design.

What surprised you most, was when he looked over, and smiled at you, he’d caught you in the act of staring at him, and smiled.

You smiled back, not to be impolite, and were pulled back to reality by your mothers voice in your ear, “(y/n), είσαι εκεί? ή έχει πετάξει το κεφάλι σου στα σύννεφα;” (Are you there? Or has your head flown off in the clouds?)

“Είμαι εδώ μαμά.” (I’m here mama) you sighed.

~~

The next time you saw him was at a party some frat house on the other side of campus was throwing.

You hadn’t planned on going, seeing as you barley knew the boys in the frat, and your friends, well, at this college anyway, were nonexistent, but hey, free booze.

So that's how you found yourself, leaning against the living room wall, cup in hand, watching the beer pong game happening in the center of the room.

Taking another sip of your drink you did a mental walk of the room, making mental note of the people you knew, and then there he was again, definitely less than sober, calling dibs on playing the loser of the game.

You watched, amused as the game ended, and he quickly took the place of the loser, taunting the other guy loudly.

Three games (and several beers) later he was still winning, loudly yelling that he could beat anyone at the party.

Unable to help yourself you stepped forward, “I’ll have a go then.”

He looked you up and down proclaiming, “Easy win.”

You smirked, moving up to the table.

The game began, and his confidence quickly wore down, as all your shots either landed, or came very close.

The last few were neck and neck, but soon it was down to three left on your side, and only one left on his.  

Desperately, his first shot got one of yours and you quickly chugged it down, still smirking at him.

You raised an eyebrow as he lined up his next shot, and his eyes flicked to yours just long enough to cause him to miss.

You bit back a grin, easily sinking the last shot, “I’ve bested the beast.”

The people who had been spectating cheered, and the brunette who you’d seen with him before started to laugh his ass off, “They fucking got you Nick!”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” He sounded all too sober for someone who should’ve been that drunk.

You chuckled, turning and disappearing into the crowd.

A half hour later you were half way out the door, not bothering to pull on your jacket, the relative amount of dinking you had done still making your cheeks feel warm.

“Wait! Wait!” He- Nick, you reminded yourself, came half stumbling down the road, “I wanted to say good game.”

“That was half an hour ago.” You laughed.

“Still- i- sorry, what is your name?”

“(y/n), I’m in your intro to software design.”

“I’ve never seen you in there before,” He looked confused, “Which group do you sit with?”

“I don’t really have friends.” You shrugged.

Nick frowned, quickly holding out his hand for a shake, “Hi, I’m Nick, I’m your friend now.”

You looked at his outstretched hand confused, “Yeah o-kay. Your drunk, I’m tipsy and if I’m lucky you won’t remember this in the morning. I don’t really do friends here.”

He nodded as if paying attention, but then said, “You have an accent.”

You nodded, “Yup, I’m leaving now.”

~~

You didn’t see him again after that, for nearly three weeks, and you were beginning to think he really had forgotten, that is, until he approached out out side of the lecture hall, “Hey!”

“Yeah?”

“(y/n) right? Your the one who beat me at beer pong. And then walked away when I asked about your accent.”

You rolled your eyes, “You didn’t ask you literally just stated I had an accent.”

“Well I’m not wrong! I meant to ask why- well not why- just, are you an exchange student or?”

You adjusted your laptop bag on your shoulder, “This isn’t high school. We don’t have exchange students.”

“Well, are you studying abroad then?”

“I’m an American. I can’t study abroad in my own country.”

He looked slightly confused, “Sorry- it’s just with your accent I assumed.”

“I wasn’t born here if that helps.” You turned and started away, pulling out your phone as it started to ring, “Ναι μαμά; Έχω μαθήματα σύντομα, τι συμβαίνει;” (Yes mama? I have class soon, what's wrong?)

~~

“Why are you always alone all the time?”

You groaned, looking up from the firewall system assignment you’d been testing on your tablet, to see Nick, “I’m working.”

“And I’m asking a question,” He sat down at the otherwise empty table, “Why are you always alone?”

“I told you, I don’t have friends here.” You ran the breaker code again, seeing if it could illuminate any unseen holes.

“You were at the party, surely you knew someone there, otherwise you wouldn’t have gone.”

“σκατά“ You muttered, a new problem in the chain arising, “It was an open house party, I heard about it from people I know.” (shit)

Nick frowned, “Oh, thats-”

“Sad, tragic, depressing? Yeah I’m aware.” You sighed.

You saved the project, shutting off your tablet and looking around the empty cafeteria, “Isn’t it like, wicked late? Why are you here?”

“Why’re you?” he countered.

“World’s asleep.” You muttered, packing up the rest of your stuff, “Why do you keep making such an effort to talk to me?”

“Cause we’re friends remember? Shook on it.”

“I never shook your hand.” You grumbled, standing up.

~~

“You know that I’m right!” Nick exclaimed.

“Maybe! But I don’t want to admit it!”

Over the course of a few month Nick had crawled, kicked and wormed his way into your life, all but forcing you to become his friend, and surprisingly, you didn’t mind all that much.

Now you were sitting out on the roof of your dorm, looking up at the night sky.

“I swear your fucking nocturnal dude! Like an owl! And I willingly give up my sleep to hang out with you!”

You hesitated, feeling a sudden jolt of a realization, and as suddenly as a lighting strike, you were falling in love.

You fumbled to recover, “Well you’re the one who went out of your way to become my friend.”

“I mean, too be fair I was drunk.”

“But still went out of your way to be my friend once you were sober.” You pointed out.

“Hey, drunk me makes good decisions sometimes.” He laughed, looking over at you.

You let out a sigh, watching the white wisps of your breath drift up in the sky, “That’s the thing I’ve never got over.”

“What? Drunk me making interesting decisions?”

“The cold,” You said simply, “I’ve lived here half my life, but the cold still doesn’t make sense to me.”

He laughed, “This is Texas, it’s not nearly as cold as it gets up north. Snow’s much more common for now, up there.”

“I’ve never seen snow. Mama doesn’t like it much,” You laughed, “The first time I really heard about it it sounded so strange.”

Nick smiled, “Lets go up north during winter break then. I know people up there, we can go do winter tourist things.”  

“Winter tourist things?”

“Yeah,” He chuckled, “Go ice skating, look at lights, sleigh rides, all that.”

You laughed, “Winter Tourist things.”

~~

A month and a half had passed, your sudden change in feelings toward your only friend on campus had not.

If anything they had just gotten worse, and now, the thing you still couldn’t wrap your head around, you were tossing your suitcase into the back of his car, about to head on your way to the airport, because yes, the Winter Tourist thing stuck.

“Dude, I’m so excited! This is gonna be epic!”

You nodded, “You know, thinking about it, it actually is possible I’ve seen snow, like when I was little. It just never lasted long.”

Nick scrunched up his nose, “Well it’s too late to duck out now!”

“I never said I was ducking out.” You laughed.

~~

The trip had gone pretty well, the snow in the northeast was certainly different than that of Macedonia, but you didn’t think it was all Nick had said it would be.

Still you had enjoyed wandering around the city looking at Christmas lights, attempting to ice skate, and just enjoying each others company.

It seemed like every minute you spent with Nick, you teetered closer to the edge, knowing that by the end of this trip you’d be head over heels for him, if you weren’t already now.

Now you were quietly sitting on the balcony of your hotel room, hands cradled around the warm cup of hot chocolate you’d made, looking out into the swirling darkness above the city.

“You know your gonna freeze if you stay out here.” Nick moved through the door and sat beside you, draping part of a blanket around your shoulders.

“I know.” You sighed.

He looked at you, concerned, “What’s wrong?”

“Νομίζω ότι ερωτεύομαι,” You murmured, a quiet confession, more so to yourself than to him, “και αυτό με τρομάζει.”  (I think I’m falling in love with you... and that terrifies me)

You started to sigh as he looked confused, though only for a moment, because “Τι είναι τόσο τρομακτικό για την αγάπη;” He asked softly. (What’s so scary about love?)

You froze, almost dropping your cup, “ε-ε-ε, εσύ- μιλάς ελληνικά;” (uh- y- uh, you-  you speak Greek?)

“λίγο,” He smiled, “Είσαι ερωτευμένος μαζί μου;“ (A bit... you’re in love with me?)

“λίγο.” (A bit), you breathed, trying to ignore the small space between you seemingly shrink.

“Νομίζω ότι είμαι λίγο ερωτευμένος και εσένα.” He chuckled. (I think I'm a bit in love with you too)

Your breath hitched, and your quickly bridged the small gap between you to kiss him, smiling into it a bit as he kissed back.

“How long?” He asked softly when you pulled apart.

“When you first brought up the trip. You said that you were willing to lose sleep to hang out with me,” You chuckled nervously, “You?”

“Second week of school, you were on the phone with someone, and you smiled back at me,” Nick grinned, “I saw you from across the quad and knew.”

[delimeful]

taking the fall (3)

warnings: imprisonment, interrogation, injury, mild blood, panic and sensory overload, dehumanizing language, ambiguous motives, morally neutral/antagonistic janus, snakes mention

-

His guest wasn’t eating.

Janus cast an irritated glance over to the terrarium, where the only “life” that could be seen was a clump of thick foliage in one corner.

He’d left the old fake plants in there as a taunt, but as soon as the tiny creature had ascertained that there were no snakes in the grass, they’d immediately bundled every bit of shiny plastic greenery into a makeshift nest and hid within it. He supposed he should have expected it, from one as industrious as these tiny folk all seemed to be.

Regardless of his guest’s reticence, he’d been setting small dishes of food in there whenever he himself took his meals, giving them some time to adjust to the reality of their situation. It had been a couple of days, however, and every miniature entree looked entirely untouched.

His prisoner seemed to be on a hunger strike.

It added more evidence to his theory that he was being misled in regards to his guest’s identity. If they were actually a victim in all this, why bother keeping quiet and refusing to give the answers Janus needed? Why go so far as to not even eat, for people who allegedly wouldn’t care if he lived or died?

No, things made much more sense if this was a gambit on the tiny people’s part, one of them volunteering to stay and play sacrificial lamb, distracting him for as long as the others needed. Their terror, their injury, their tiny bitter laugh, it could all be part of a ploy for pity on his end. Get him too invested in a puzzling prisoner while the others escaped.

The thought made his stomach drop unpleasantly. His opponents were exceedingly small, and he was one of the few who knew they existed. If they got away, he’d never see them again.

He couldn’t afford that.

Pushing his chair back, he approached the terrarium, casting an assessing eye over the food set out in it. Some of it could sit out, and had been there overnight, the best time for his guest to eat without risking even seeing Janus. But no. Not a single crumb out of place to indicate that anything had been eaten.

“Still alive?” he asked dryly, rapping a knuckle on the glass once.

There was a long pause, and then one of the leafy stems sticking out from the nest twitched twice. This daily question and response was the only communication he’d had with his guest since that first afternoon, and even this small, silent answer had originally been prompted by a threat of Janus reaching in there and checking himself.

“I notice that you’ve been refusing any sustenance,” he continued idly, and got nothing for his efforts. “Planning to die before you can give up any secrets?”

No response. Janus sighed as though put upon, and slid the terrarium lid halfway off. There were still no meaningful movements from the nest, though it seemed to be subtly trembling. It was impressive that despite the dark clothing that his guest wore, he still couldn’t make out exactly where they were even this close.

With narrowed eyes, he reached in and grabbed a few of the plastic leaves, tugging to pull the construction apart bit by bit.

He only caught the faintest flicker of movement before there was a sudden sharp pain in his index finger, and he yanked his hand back on reflex.

A weight came up with it, putting even more pressure on his wound, and it dropped as soon as his hand was just above the terrarium lid.

Seeing the dark shape attempting to scramble away, his other hand smacked down on top of it automatically, pressing it into the mesh with a small, muffled cry.

He glanced at his hand. There was a plastic thorn hooked in his thumb, the broad end chewed off and the point of it sharpened. His guest had attacked and used him as a makeshift lift in their escape attempt.

“Oh,” he intoned, voice dark. “Seems like you have plenty of energy after all, hm?”

---

Virgil took in short, gasping breaths, barely able to hear whatever threatening thing the human was muttering as pain radiated through his leg.

It let up just slightly as the pressure of the hand on top of him eased, his face no longer pressed into the cold wire netting of the cage’s top. Before he could try and string two thoughts together, the fingers were curling around him like a hawk’s talons, lifting him up and sending another jolt of mind-numbing pain through him. He might have whimpered.

So much for that escape attempt. He’d known it was a long shot, but his options had been limited after realizing that he literally couldn’t stand on the injured leg any more. They’d dwindled further with every day he couldn’t bring himself to crawl over to any food or water. Living outside, he’d survived on very little before, but it was a gamble every time.

He was flipped to face the light, the human’s head in silhouette above him. He couldn't make out it’s words. Everything felt overwhelming, made incomprehensible by the pain and the dark spots in his vision. His face felt hot. Was he bleeding?

Things went blissfully quiet above him, and then he was being moved. He wondered if the human was about to kill him, and the thought sent a much weaker pulse of panic down his spine than usual. He hoped it killed borrowers before feeding them to it’s snakes.

Something soft and dark dropped over him, and he thrashed for a moment before his leg reminded him how awful an idea that was. So he laid still instead, letting his terror shake through him in waves, until he wasn’t completely lost to it anymore.

Slowly, he lifted a hand, feeling at what was draped over him. Cloth, soft in texture and tightly-knit enough that not much light got through. Below him… a warm, living surface.

“Awake?” the human said, voice both closer and quieter than he’d ever heard it.

Another shudder worked through him, and he reached up to press his hands over his face, wishing none of this was real. His eye pigment had run, drying in tracks down his cheeks.

He wouldn’t be able to reapply it. The locket he stored it in was left behind with the rest of his stuff, tucked away into his oversized pack and left at the opening into the human’s home. It had probably already been torn through and picked apart by Mari and the other insiders.

The thought stung, somehow more personal than the nightmare of the situation he was already in.

“I believe I see now why you haven’t eaten,” the human continued with a surprising lack of snark. It must have seen his leg. He felt a little sick just thinking about it.

What had felt like a low-grade fracture through the adrenaline had ended up growing worse and worse without treatment, until the injury was a solid lump of swollen flesh and ugly bruising that twanged with agony at even the slightest shifts. He wondered if the human was going to use it against him. It would make torture exceedingly easy on its part.

“Continue with the silent treatment, and you won’t get any actual treatment,” it said, now sounding exasperated.

After another stretch of silence, the hand beneath him moved and tilted, sliding him off onto a flat surface. Suddenly desperate to know what was going on, Virgil yanked at the cloth, dragging handfuls of it down until he reached an edge and could pull it clear of his eyes.

The light in this room was dimmer, but it still took him a moment to adjust. He wasn’t in a snake tank, but on top of a low table in what looked like a sitting room, if he remembered the human terms right. The human was seated on the couch nearby, looking down at him.

“There you are.”

---

The tiny person shot him a furious glare, rendered mostly ineffective by the dark tear streaks that were still smudged along their face.

Janus wished his earlier reflexes had been a little gentler. He’d had a quite embarrassing moment of panic where he’d thought the grotesque worsening of their leg injury had been caused by his grasp, rather than simple neglect and lack of treatment.

Despite his patience, they didn’t reply, continuing to just stare at him. He stood, ignoring the way it instantly made them begin trembling again.

“I’ll be back in a moment. Feel free to move around and make your injury worse,” he instructed dryly, before turning and going to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom.

His thumb was still sensitive, the injury messily scabbed over with dried blood. He’d pried the thorn out with his teeth easily enough, but with his other hand occupied by a prone tiny person and their hyperventilation fit, he couldn’t properly treat it.

Upon his return, he saw his guest had abandoned his handkerchief and was halfway to the edge of the table. He rolled his eyes, and set the kit down before grabbing them by the shoulders and sliding them back over to the handkerchief.

“I was being sarcastic, you know,” he told them, and opened the kit to start cleaning his undersized injury. “I’ll be very unhappy if my only source of information dies a completely avoidable death for no reason.”

“Yeah, because I sure wouldn’t want to make you unhappy,” his guest bit out, and then looked as though they were deeply and immediately regretting opening their mouth. Janus didn’t know why; he personally took much better to sass than being stabbed.

“So you do know how sarcasm works. Color me impressed.”

The tiny person actually hissed at him, like the world’s most emo kitten.

“Yes, yes, I feel very threatened,” Janus retaliated by prodding them with the edge of an open tube of arnica gel. “Here. For the bruising.”

After another long glare, his guest spoke. “What do you want for it?”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “Couldn’t it be argued that I owe it to you, for allowing the injury to fester while you’re in my care?”

“Your care--!” his guest cut themself off, taking in a deep breath through gritted teeth. “Terrible hosting etiquette aside, you weren’t the one who gave me the injury. Not your concern. So, what do you want?”

Janus wondered absently how tiny people qualified their hosts’ manners. He had certainly already failed by human standards, immediately imprisoning his guest and all, so perhaps it didn’t really matter either way. He wasn’t above taking advantage of a tiny person’s bartering honor system. “Answer three questions.”

“I get to pass on questions I don’t want to answer,” his guest countered quickly, apparently having expected this.

“You get five passes,” Janus allowed. Seeing what they refused to answer would be informative in itself.

“... Fine.” With another glance at their injury, they grabbed the tube sharply enough that they almost overbalanced. “Ask.”

“Where are the others living?” Janus asked, just to set the stakes high.

“Pass,” his guest answered, not even looking up from their task. Janus rolled his eyes.

“Why are you defending them?” he tried.

“I’m not defending them,” they shot back, vitriol thick in their voice. “I just don’t want you to get what you want. That’s one question.”

“Ouch. I’m hurt, really.” Janus tapped his nails along the table idly. “What’s your name and pronouns?”

This did prompt them to look up, face pinching up in confusion. After a moment, they returned to their baseline expression of scowl and retorted, “That’s two questions.”

“It’s one sentence, it counts as one question,” Janus lied smugly. They still looked close to passing, so he gave them a nudge. “Unless you want me to make something up? I’m very creative, I assure you.”

“I use he,” he finally grit out, “and you can call me V.”

“For Vendetta?” Janus mused, and received an utterly baffled look for his wit. “I suppose your movie repertoire isn’t that expansive.”

“Two questions,” V said flatly. “One left.”

“Yes, I can count.” Janus glanced at V’s gel-covered leg. “You have to rub that in for it to work.”

V’s expression flickered to one of despair, but he bit his lip and started to slowly massage the gel in. Janus wondered at how easily he’d believed him.

“What do you call yourselves?”

“Pass.”

“Where did you live?”

“Pass.”

“How do I bait the others out?”

“Pass.”

“Why do you hate me more than the ones who allegedly put you here?”

V’s hand slipped, and he winced and paused for a moment. “... Pass.”

There was certainly a grudge there. Too bad Janus had no idea what it could be about. Oh well.

He set a hand on the table, leaning over V. “When do the others plan to leave? As specific as you can get, please.”

“Pa--,” V cut himself off, and Janus could see the moment he realized he had used up all his get-out-of-questioning-free cards. He patiently waited out the tiny person’s fit of frustration.

“... I don’t know.” Janus’s smug grin dropped, but V continued after a speculative pause. “I don’t think they’ll leave before the season's turning. The spring thaw has been slow this year, and they’re-- not suited for it.”

Janus felt some of the tension drop from his shoulders. The start of summer. He had time, and the advantage of a weather forecast app. That was good news, even if he’d had to wrangle it out of his guest. He had time.

“How interesting,” he said lightly, and capped the gel to put it back in the box. V’s hands were clutching the edge of his coat tightly, as though guilty or angry. Or perhaps just stressed. “Let’s get some food in actual range of you, then, shall we?”

[mypoisonedvine]

ear candy || Mike Weiss x reader

summary: for a good time, call ‘candy.’  she can’t fix your life but she can distract you from it for a while.

word count: about 2k

warnings: technically not smut but definitely close enough (dirty talk/phone sex), some angst, daddy kink, a touch of degradation/objectification kink?? very subtle tho

a/n: my goal with this was to make it very dialogue heavy because I wanted it, like real phone sex, to be mostly about the words rather than anything else!  so I kept the descriptions to a minimum, hope you don’t mind…

You’d heard that more established phone sex operators had companies and screeners and services to help them disguise their number.  All you had was an ad in the paper and a landline, but it got the job done.

Technically, you had no way to know if a call from a number you didn’t recognize was a horny customer or something actually important, but it was pretty obvious when the phone rang at one in the morning on Friday night wasn’t going to be your bank or something.

You let it ring two, three, four times before picking up, putting on a slightly sultry voice as you greeted, “hey.”

“Hey,” the voice returned— so much more assured than you were used to, more confident and casual, nothing like the married men whispering to keep from waking up their wives, nothing like the nervous first-timers who made it clear that you were a mistake they would regret.  “Saw your ad in the paper…”

“I’m glad you called,” you smiled, “what’s your name?”

"Mike,” he answered quickly.  “What’s yours?”

"Hi, Mike,” you purred.  “You can call me Candy.”

“I’m not gonna call you that,” he sighed, and suddenly the air of confidence was gone; not to fear or secrecy, but to obvious weakness, to exhaustion, to an ache that you wish you didn’t understand as well as you did.  “Tell me your real name.”

“You don’t know that Candy isn’t my real name,” you defended.

“Yes I do.  Tell me your real name,” he demanded again, though his tone wasn’t actually very demanding.  You did it anyway.  “It’s pretty,” he decided, a little crack in his voice making your heart twist.

“You don't sound like you're doing too good,” you noted, trying not to make it too pitying but still sympathetic.

"My wife left me."

You nodded, to no one in particular, because you definitely knew how to handle this kind of guy, even if it had been a while since one had called.  "I'm sorry to hear that.  How can I help you?"

"I can't stand being alone," he explained tensely.

"I can definitely help with that…" you trailed off.  “I can just listen, if that’s what you need.”

“No, I... I want you to talk,” he assured, making you smirk slightly.

“Do you have a credit card, Mike?” you prompted.

“Yeah, yeah, lemme give you the number,” he mumbled, the sounds of shuffling indicated that he was searching for his wallet.

He dictated the numbers to you as you sat up and dashed to your computer, entering them in and stalling a bit until the card came back approved.  “So, Mike, tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Nothing, it’s a blank slate,” he murmured, voice lilted with a smirk.  “Wanna give me something to think about?”

“What do you wanna know?”

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”

“Not much, I was in bed when you called… so just a t-shirt.”

“Just a t-shirt?” 

“Yeah… it’s too big for me, it’s an old Cowboys shirt my ex left behind…”

“Cowboys?  You’re breakin’ my heart, honey,” he chuckled.

“You’re a Houston fan?”

“It’s a symptom of being in Houston, right now, as we speak.”

“Fair enough,” you giggled.  “Maybe I should take it off then, if it bothers you…?”

“So if my calculations are correct, that should mean you’re completely naked right now.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

You set the phone down to remove the shirt, coming back with a chipper announcement: "Done!"

“Yep,” you agreed, popping your lips at the end of the word.

“Then do me a favor and play with your tits a little bit.  Are your nipples hard?”

“Yeah, they got hard when I heard your voice, it’s really sexy.”

“Good, give ‘em a little pinch then…   does it make you wet, when you touch them like that?”

“Mhmm, they’re really sensitive,” you admitted.

“I bet you’d love my tongue on them, wouldn’t you?  You’d like me sucking on your tits?”

“Yes,” you sighed, “please, I’d love it so much.”

“Why don’t you touch your pussy for me?” he prompted, cocky as ever.

“Tell me how, exactly,” you bargained.  “I wanna touch myself the way you would touch me.”

“Two fingers on your clit— slow, smooth circles…”

You moaned a little, following his instructions.  “Fuck, Mike, it feels really good.”

“I like when you moan my name like that.  By the end of the night you’re gonna be screaming it for me, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds like exactly what I need.”

“Yeah, I bet so, bet you really need to get fucked.  And it’s handy, then, that I really, really need to fuck something, god I’m so worked up I could just lose it.”

"Yeah?  Tell me about it."

"M'hard, so hard, can't stop thinking about what it would be like to be inside you."

"I like the sound of that.  What would you do to me, if you could?'

"I'd fuck you so good, sweetheart, until you begged me to stop because you couldn’t come anymore."

"Mmm, I bet so, you sound like you know how to fuck.”

“Hell yeah I do, and you sound like you need a thick cock.”

“Is that what you’re offering?” you hummed, biting your lip.

“If you think you can take it.”

“Fuck, I’ll try my best… it’ll probably be a pretty tight fit.”

“Good.  I wanna fucking ruin you.”

“Oh god,” you groaned, “can I please put something inside me?  Two fingers?”

“Just one,” he instructed.

You whined when you pushed one finger in and it wasn’t nearly enough to satiate your needs.  “I need more, please…”

“Okay baby, just one more but go slow, I like when you get desperate.”

After a few quiet moments where you could only hear his breathing and your own needy moans, curiosity got the better of you.  “Are you stroking your cock, Mike?” you asked softly.

“Yes,” he answered, the little strain in his voice making you confident he was telling the truth.

“How does it feel?”

“Good,” came another hasty reply.

“It would feel so much better if it was my pussy, if I was riding you right now.”

“I’d be so fucking deep in you,” he groaned tensely.  “That’s where I wanna come, too… wanna fill you up right inside that snug little cunt.”

“Oh fuck,” you whispered.  “Please, daddy…”

“What was that?  I can’t hear you,” he taunted.

“I— I said ‘please… daddy,’” you repeated, afraid it would turn him off but he let out a dark chuckle that ended with a groan and a hissing breath in through his teeth.

“Fuck, that’s hot.  Is that what you need, sweetheart?  Need daddy to take care of you?”

“Yes, please, need you…”

“Don’t worry honey, I will, just keep fucking yourself with your fingers, and don’t come until I say so.”

You whined but didn’t dare disobey, moaning with each touch to your sensitive bud, not holding any sound back so he could hear how needy you were loud and clear.

“Please, I need to come, wanna come for you, Mike,” you begged when you were starting to worry you couldn’t hold back much longer.

“I know, but not yet… almost.”

“Please, daddy” you sobbed, weak and almost a whisper, making him grunt a little.

“Just say my name when you come, honey, and don’t stop rubbing that little clit until you’re absolutely sure you can’t take any more.”

“Fuck, Mike,” you hissed.  “Oh god, I’m gonna— fuck, daddy, I’m gonna come so hard for you.”

“Good, just like that, baby, keep going,” he egged you on.

“Mike!” you yelped, shocks reverberating through your body as your back arched up off the bed.  His moans encouraged you further, echoing in your ears and somehow making everything more intense.  It was easy like this to imagine that he was on top of you, moaning in your ear as he filled you with his cock; your walls clenched around nothing, begging to be stretched around something, as you felt a gush of warmth seep from your entrance.  

Like he’d told you to, you kept going past the peak until your hands gave out, until your body was numb with pins and needles from the intensity of your pleasure.

“Oh my god,” you sighed, “that was… I haven’t come that hard in so long.”

“You sound incredible when you come, baby,” he cooed, “think you can do it again before I finish?”

“I’m too sensitive, it’ll hurt,” you whined.

“Give it a minute, then,” he chuckled.  “Did you make a mess, honey?”

“Um, a little,” you giggled.  “I’m so wet it’s dripping onto the sheets now.”

“Fuck, wish I could help you clean that up,” he purred, laughing at your little gasp.  “Would you like that?”

“Yeah, I bet you’d be good at it… you’re good with your tongue so far.”

“And you?”

“Me?  Well, I bet no matter how big you are, I could take you all the way down my throat.”

“Fuck, honey, you’re so dirty, huh?”

“Yeah, and I really like sucking cock…” you added coyly.  “Would you let me get on my knees and taste you, daddy?”

“Whenever you wanted, sweetheart, fuck… I’m close, keep going honey, you’re so fucking good.”

“Please come for me, oh my god, please come,” you moaned, “I want you to come— please daddy?”

“I will, baby, I’m gonna come… fuck, I’m so close.”

“I wish I could help you, daddy, I wish you were fucking me so hard right now, using me, making me your toy.”

“Yeah baby, you just wanna be owned, huh?  Wanna be daddy’s little slut?”

“Yours, fuck, wanna be all yours.”

“That’s it, keep talking— m’gonna come.”

“Yes, daddy, stroke that cock for me, close your eyes and imagine I’m there with you, begging for your come… I want it all in me, daddy, I want it leaking out of me all night, please please please come, please come inside me—”

“Fuck!” he yelped, moaning louder than ever.

“Yes, keep going, fuck, you sound so hot,” you encouraged, “give me all that fucking come, daddy.”

A throaty, exhausted groan preceded a sigh as he began to catch his breath, making you smile pridefully.

“Shit,” he hissed, “I have to clean this up all by myself, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s the less fun part,” you sighed.

“You’re good,” he offered, voice still breathy as he panted a little bit.  “Thanks, that really… that helped.”

“Feeling a little better, daddy?”

“God, don’t say it like that,” he groaned, “you’re just gonna get me goin’ again.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.”

“What you want is to take all my money by keeping me on the phone all night,” he chuckled.

“Okay, I’ll let you go,” you relented.  “I bet you’re gonna sleep well tonight.”

“Better than I have in months,” he agreed.

"Will you call me again sometime?"

A little pause made you worried he wouldn’t.  "Maybe we could meet up instead?" he offered hesitantly.

"Different price than talking on the phone…" you warned him.

"Yeah, I know, that's fine," he dismissed.  “We’ll work that out later.  But maybe you could come to my motel room?”

“I can do that,” you grinned.  “You talk a big game, I’m looking forward to finding out if you can live up to my expectations.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re gonna regret saying that.  You won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you.”

You laughed a little, clenching your thighs together.  “Promises, promises…”

[dangerouslyallaboutdraco]

Rivals

Y/n Y/l/n and Draco Malfoy had been rivals for years.

After Hermione established herself as one of the smartest students, everyone assumed it would be her who Draco had a problem with. Surely his entitled, pureblood supremacist ideology would leave him in a constant feud with a muggle-born.

However, it didn't. Sure, Hermione wasn't Draco's favourite person. He would never like her, as long as she was Potter's best friend. But Hermione wasn't important enough to be the number 1 person he hated.

That title wasn't even given to Harry Potter. The scrawny half-blood who had rejected the blonde's friendship the first day they met. Ron Weasley disgusted him, but Draco recognised him as an inferior.

Y/n Y/l/n was the only one. The only person who was important and superior but still annoying. She was his arch-nemesis.

It was safe to say she annoyed him as much as one person could annoy another. Every hypothesis he had in class, she disagreed with. Draco felt like it was her only mission to annoy him.

In truth, Y/n was just trying to get through it. Hogwarts wasn't easy for a muggle-born, especially when her nemesis thought she wasn't worthy of knowing magic. He made every day a living hell.

"Mudblood Y/l/n." Draco taunted at any chance he got. Most of his tournaments happened in the corridors or Snape's classroom, where Draco couldn't get in trouble.

Y/n knew, deep down, he was just intimidated. She knew she was almost as smart as Draco, and she had just as many friends. It drove him nuts.

It was the night of a Slug Club dinner. The club was one of the only social functions Y/n didn't have to see Draco, so she was always thankful for it. She also had a new dress picked out. It was pink sequins are she adored it. Plus, she was pleased she didn't have to wear a Christmas-themed dress to a party just yet.

Her hair had finished being curled when her date arrived, Cormac McLaggen. He wasn't exactly well known for being a nice guy at Hogwarts, but Y/n couldn't deny he was cute.

"You look hot," McLaggen told her as she stepped out of her common room. He was immediately handsy, his hand resting on her ass. That was not the reason she had picked this dress.

Y/n thanked him nervously, and they started the walk to dinner. On their way through the corridor, they passed Y/n's least favourite Slytherin.

She hoped he wouldn't say anything, but, alas, he did. "McLaggen, what are you doing with a mudblood?" He asked him, completely ignoring Y/n like she wasn't there. That drove her crazy.

"Shove it, Malfoy," Cormac told Draco, not completely defending Y/n, but she was still grateful.

Draco didn't say anything else, but he just continued walking.

The dinner party was interesting. Stories from Slughorn were one of the best things about Hogwarts, and the group got a lot of those. The conversation between students was also always good.

Y/n was enjoying it. Until McLaggen went too far. She was just going to find her date when she overheard him talking, to some of the older boys, about what they had supposedly done sexually. It was all lies. Y/n hadn't even kissed him.

"Uh, Cormac." One of his friends said, seeing Y/n standing behind him.

Cormac turned around, locking eyes with her. Instead of looking sorry, he just looked smug. "What? Don't act like you're not a slut." He jeered.

Y/n's eyebrows raised. That was not what she expected. Suddenly, she felt tears welling in her eyes. So she stormed off. Right out of the room, past Harry, who had heard what Cormac said and Hermione, who looked confused. She didn't stop walking until she was out in the corridor.

Then, she just sat on a bench. Her head in her hands as she bawled her eyes out.

The tears didn't stop coming when someone's sweater was placed around her shoulders.

Y/n didn't look up to talk to the person she assumed was Harry. "Harry, I'm fine." She told him, wiping her tears. "Cormac is an arse."

"It's, uh, it's not Potter." Y/n's head snapped up quickly, making sure the voice matched the person she thought it was. Draco Malfoy. "What did Cormac do to you?" Draco quickly asked.

Y/n huffed, wanting to throw his sweater off her shoulders. "Doesn't matter." She quietly replied. The last thing she wanted right now was Draco to laugh at her. So, she wiped the rest of her tears.

"Yes, it does." Draco strictly said, taking a seat next to her. "Tell me right now, and I'll go find him." He instructed. Y/n had never heard him like this. He was so angry, but she didn't understand why. It was almost protective.

Something made Y/n confess the events of the night to her arch enemy. "He was telling all his stupid friends about things we definitely didn't do." She told him.

Draco rolled his eyes then his sleeves. "I'll be back. Stay here." He told her before matching off.

Y/n didn't know what he was going to do. All she knew was he was seething. He came back 5 minutes later. She immediately noticed his hands. More specifically, his knuckles were blood red.

"Draco," Y/n muttered out, grabbing his hand to look at it. He didn't wince at all. Much to her surprise, he smiled. "What?" She asked, concerned.

"That's the first time you have ever said my first name," Draco explained. It was true. Most of the time, she called him Malfoy, occasionally asshole.

Y/n didn't know what else to say. She just dropped his hand, not feeling like the physical contact was helping her. They sat together in silence for a while.

Finally, Y/n worked up the courage to get the answers she wanted to know. "Why did you do it?" She asked him.

Draco didn't hesitate. "Because he hurt you. No one gets to do that." The thought of him trying to protect her actually made her sick. Even angry.

Y/n's irritation spilled out. "Malfoy, you've hurt me more than anyone else in this school ever has. Even McLaggen." She told him, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration.

Her words made Draco feel like he'd been punched in the face. They made him physically want to cry. "I, uh... I never meant to... I didn't want to hurt you." He tried to explain.

Y/n could see the broken look on her face. She just didn't know if she should dig the knife in or help him. "You still did." She told him, not able to let it go completely.

"I'm sorry." That was the first time she had ever heard him say those words to anyone.

Y/n nodded slowly. "I know. It's in the past now, though." She didn't really feel like rehashing the last 6 years of hatred. "I just want to know why you were ever mean to me." She said it almost too quietly he missed it.

It was also rhetorical, but he answered. "I liked you." She couldn't help her mouth dropping open.

It took her by complete surprise. Her brain almost stopped working, but her heart rate sped up. Even her skin seemed hotter. Even though it wasn't, it felt like the whole world's attention was on her.

Draco could tell he had completely stopped her in her tracks. "Is it so hard to believe?" He asked her. "You were basically the first girl who talked to me." She could smile at that.

"I liked you too." Y/n finally confessed. There was a blush forming on her cheeks, and it shocked Draco. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything more beautiful.

"Liked or like?" Draco asked her, hesitantly but somehow confidently. His palms were sweating as he wrapped them around the bench. Even though it hurt, it was distracting him from the current situation.

Y/n looked at him with a frown. "Are you really trying to make my night worse?" So, she thought it was a joke. Some sick prank Draco had worked up.

The fact he could cause so much distrust upset him. It broke his heart. "I'm serious." He affirmed.

So, she replied. "Like." It finally felt like stress had lifted off her. She had been carrying it around for 6 years.

"I can top that," Draco said as he snapped her attention back into the moment. "I love you." That was not how she expected her night to go. Unsurprisingly, she had also never heard him say those words.

Y/n finally made eye contact with him. "I love you too." Before she could think, her lips were on his. Soft and gentle but still passionate. It was perfect. And it was something both of them had wanted for years.

[dixie12]

so i’m a little obsessed with this post of @tarcanza's. (i think somnophilia is super hot) and then it got even better, as an appropriate punishment was discussed, and now i can’t stop thinking about it.

so pat is obviously going to punish jonny, because it’s not like he wasn’t into it, once he knew what was going on, but jonny just took, without permission, and pat’s gonna make sure he thinks twice before doing that again.

he let jonny think he’d gotten away with it at first. jonny was so embarrassed, could barely even make eye contact with pat during the next few practices, and they almost lost a game to the coyotes for fuck’s sake, all due to jonny refusing to talk to him. pat finally followed him home one night, boxed him in against the wall of his foyer. he leaned in, whispering in jonny’s ear about how hot it was that jonny couldn’t resist him. “just saw my cock there and had to get your mouth on it, didn’t you, taze?” he asked, as jonny moaned in response, nodding his head frantically, hips jerking against pat as he was being pinned, trapped between pat and the wall behind him. 

it became a thing, after that. pat taunting jonny, mocking him sweetly about how desperate he was, how he just needed pat’s cock so badly he couldn’t even wait for him to wake up, couldn’t fight the temptation, just needed to get himself filled, no regard for pat at all. 

“i should have figured it out way earlier, jonny,” pat murmured one night. “you were always so sweet and relaxed in the morning, after. like all you needed was to take my load to start your day off right,” and the blush on jonny’s face rivaled the color he got during games, two goals down and double-shifting in the third period. 

it was a few months later that pat finally organized jonny’s punishment. it had taken a little bit of planning and a little bit of convincing the guys that yes, he was serious, and yes, jonny would be into it. once he had it set up, he had to put the plan in motion pretty much immediately, though, because the guys kept glancing at jonny and practically giggling before looking away, and jonny might be single-minded at practice, but even he would start to notice that his teammates were acting like morons at some point. 

it was a random tuesday, with two days off before their next game, when pat told jonny he’d invited the core over for a movie night. jonny agreed, barely paying attention as he put together a salad to go with their dinner, and pat smiled to himself. he’d be paying attention soon enough. 

pat was a little distracted during their meal, but managed to get through it without giving anything away. jonny cleared the dishes while pat grabbed some popcorn and other snacks and met him in the media room. he pushed jonny around a little, tugging him towards him before pushing him down on the couch, and the weight of patrick on top of him had jonny going hard in his sweats, just like pat expected. “fuck, pat, the guys…” jonny groaned out, but he had his hands groping pat’s ass, not exactly trying to push him away as he rocked his hips up. he was so fucking easy for it; pat loved it.

“yea babe, i know,” pat said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cock ring. before jonny had time to figure out what was going on, pat had slipped his hand into jonny’s sweats, stroked him a few times, and then slid the ring on, testing it for snugness. 

jonny stared up at him, pupils wide, breath coming heavy, and pat couldn’t help the wave of fondness that went through him. before jonny could complain, the doorbell rang and the guys started pouring into the condo. jonny stayed frozen on the couch, a few beads of sweat rolling down his forehead as he visibly struggled to figure out what pat was playing at.

pat welcomed the guys in, got them settled on the couches and chairs and then passed out a round of shots, followed quickly by another. jonny was still just staring, eyes darting between pat and the guys, and pat couldn’t help the smug smile from breaking out.

“alright, gentlemen,” he said, clapping his hands once. “i think it’s time we let jonny in on the plan.” jonny started at that, and patrick walked over to him, fitting one hand on jonny’s neck to tug him close. “you remember how just seeing my cock made you so desperate that you started sucking me off while i was asleep?” he asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

jonny went absolutely scarlet, eyes wild as he looked around the room, but the guys were just sipping their drinks, no one reacting to the information. “it’s ok, baby,” he said, voice warm and sweet. “you don’t have to hide it, these are your boys; you can trust them,” and pat felt jonny’s heartbeat slow down under his hand. “but here’s the thing, babe. you took without asking, and that’s not ok. you know anyone would say yes to you- to your pretty pink mouth, or your gorgeous ass, but you still have to ask. so,” pat continued, “i’m going to turn on this movie that netflix assures me has an excellent…” pat paused, letting himself leer just a little, “plot. and whenever any of the guys looks like he’s appreciating that plot, you’re going to ask, very nicely, if you can get your mouth on him.”

jonny’s mouth had been dropping while pat spoke, and pat watched him run his tongue over lips, apparently unconsciously, nodding while pat finished giving the instructions. pat let out a deep breath. he’d been almost totally sure that jonny would be super into this, but it was nice to have his assumption confirmed before they got things started. 

pat tucked himself in next to jonny, running a light hand over his chest, playing with his hair, whispering in his ear about whose dick jonny was going to take first. “i don’t think any of them are going to last very long, babe,” pat said, smirking at the guys. “i mean, who wouldn’t want to put you on your knees. i told them how good you are, how you love getting your face fucked, how nothing gets you hotter than a big cock halfway down your throat,” and pat had to cut off as jonny whined, turning his head into pat’s shoulder and panting.

“i think we have your first taker, baby,” pat said, shaking jonny’s shoulder and pointing at seabs. sure enough, seabs was visibly hard in his sweats, one hand dragging low over his abs, just above his waist band. “seabs has always been so good to you, huh jonny,” pat said. “so why don’t you go make him feel good, too,” and jonny slid off the couch onto the carpeted floor.

he looked gorgeous, crawling on all fours over to where brent was sitting. brent was breathing hard, staring down at jonny in wonder as jonny got closer. “are.. are you sure, jon?” brent asked, and pat loved him for that.

“yea brent. fuck, i wanna. wanna make it good for you,” and jonny leaned down to fit his mouth over seabs, through his sweats, before pat interrupted him. “uh-uh, jonny. what do you say?” jonny moaned, letting his head fall forward before picking it up and looking seabs in the eye. “brent, can i suck you? please, i want it, want your cock in my mouth. let me get you off.” his words were slurred as he begged brent, looking so pretty on the floor in front of him, and there was no way brent would ever say no to that.

“fuck, of course you can, jonny. you can have whatever you want.” jonny took that as blanket permission, getting his hands under the waistband of brent’s sweatpants and pulling them down, exposing brent’s dick. he was already leaking precome, and jonny lapped it up, little kitten licks at the crown, closing his eyes as he savored the taste of it. jonny didn’t have any patience, though, and he moved from gentle licks to working brent’s cock down deeper.

he took one of brent’s hands and put it on his head. brent froze, but pat spoke up. “you can hold him down. he likes it.” jonny moaned louder at that, and brent started snapping his hips up, meeting jonny’s mouth with his thrusts. it wasn’t long before he gave a loud groan, emptying himself in jonny’s mouth. jonny’s eyes were already glazed, half-lidded in pleasure as he pulled off. pat dragged jonny towards him, kissing the taste of brent out of his mouth. “we’re just getting started, sweetheart.”

[animezing-fandoms]

No More Waiting (Gruvia Week 2021 series) Chapter 1: Beguile

Masterlist

Relationships: Gruvia, background Nalu.

Warnings: Implied/Referenced smut.

Series Summary: After the 100 Years Quest, Gray’s finally ready to be in a relationship with Juvia. And after pining for each other for so long, things escalate quickly. 

Chapter Summary: Fairy Tail goes to the beach for a weekend for Sorcerer Weekly to take pictures of them. And seeing Juvia in a swimsuit, has Gray feeling some kind of way.

A/N: For gruvia week I decided that instead of writing a bunch of one-shots, I’d string all the prompts together into a mini-series! Each chapter based off of one prompt for each day. So here’s the first one for “beguile”! Enjoy!

-------------------

You’d think that an ice Wizard would hate going to the beach. But Gray actually enjoyed it quite a bit. The weather was warm but if he got too hot it was easy to cool down with his magic. Not to mention, it was perfectly acceptable for him to wear minimal clothing. 

“Gray you’re naked!” Lucy exclaims.

Perhaps not that minimal. 

Gray turns around to see where he discarded his swimming trunks and hurries back to put them on. 

“Sorcerer Weekly paid for us to come here because they want pictures of Fairy Tail wizards having a day at the beach for their Summer issue. Not idiots in the nude.” Lucy scolds Gray. 

“You’re one to talk.” Gray retorts. “You’re practically nude yourself. That bikini you’ve got on under your cover up barely covers anything.” 

That earned him a smack upside the head. 

“At least I’m not flashing my goods to anyone like you.” Lucy says.

“Fair enough.” Gray says and rubs the back of his head. 

He looks around at all of the people on the beach. There were Fairy Tail guild members and a few civilians. But the one person he wanted to see most, seemed nowhere to be found…

“Looking for Juvia?” Lucy asks teasingly. 

Gray stiffens up and Lucy giggles. When he turns around to see her smirking face, he bristles with annoyance. 

Ever since the 100 Years Quest ended, it was pretty obvious to everyone that he returned the water mage’s feelings for him. It was true, he was in love with Juvia. But he didn’t love all of the teasing from his friends that came with it.

“No. Aren’t you wondering where Natsu is?” Gray asks. 

That got her. Lucy blushes and looks away from him. 

“Well yeah but it’s not like I’m dying to see him or anything.” Lucy says as she sets down her stuff and starts to unpack. 

“Really. Because I think you may have bought that new swimsuit just to impress him.” Gray says.

That earned him a whack in the head from her beach bag that knocked him into the sand. 

“That is completely idiotic!” Lucy exclaims before taking off her cover up, revealing her pale skin, and white bikini to the salty air of the beach. “Besides, it’s Natsu. You know he doesn’t care about stuff like that.” 

“Hey Ice Princess!” 

Speak of the devil, Gray thinks to himself as he turns around and sees Natsu running up to them, carrying a beach ball under his arm. 

“Come play volleyball with me! I know that I’m better at it than you! I’ll totally kick your ass!” He taunts. 

“We’ve only been here for ten minutes and you’re already challenging him to a fight?” Lucy asks. 

Natsu looks over Gray’s shoulder, to see Lucy and his playful demeanor instantly changes to a flustered one when he sees her. Gray was shocked. Natsu has never shown any interest in women or relationships before. He’s never gotten flustered by them either. While all of the guys in the guild would be drooling over sexy women, Natsu couldn’t care less. Until now, apparently. His eyes were glued to Lucy’s form and his cheeks began to heat up. 

Lucy began to get flustered under his gaze. Gray could tell she was just as shocked by Natsu’s reaction as he was. Although Lucy was probably hoping this would happen someday, but she didn’t expect it to actually come to be. 

“W-what do you think Natsu?” Lucy asks shyly, tilting her head to the side and pushing her chest forward a bit to try to look more attractive. 

“You look…great.” Natsu answers.

Lucy blushes and looks away from him. 

“Oh…thanks.” She says. “You like my new bikini?”

“Yeah it looks perfect!” He compliments and Lucy has to cover her mouth to stop herself from squealing in surprise and excitement. “It’s perfect for playing ball with me and Gray! Think fast!” He exclaims and tosses the ball at her, and it hits her in the head.

Gray smiles and laughs. Natsu sure had them both going for a second there. But sure enough, he was still his same old dense self. It was obvious he was into Lucy but he still didn’t know how to show it properly yet. So nothing out of the ordinary or groundbreaking would be happening today. 

“Gray-sama!” A familiar voice calls to him from the ocean.

Or so he thought. When he turns to see Juvia, he suddenly realizes why Natsu was so flustered when he saw Lucy in her swimsuit, because he was feeling the exact same way about seeing Juvia in hers. 

She was wearing a simple light blue bikini, the same color as her hair. The top was held together by a knot in the front under her breasts, tying the two pieces of fabric together. So her cleavage was on full display. And as she made her way out of the water and towards him, he couldn’t help but stare at her legs. He always thought they were her best feature. They were strong, hiding powerful muscles under smooth, soft skin. Soft skin that glistened in the sunlight from the water droplets that remained from the ocean. By the time she was in front of him, he was practically in a trance, lost in her beauty.

“Could you help Juvia put up her beach umbrella by her towel? Gray-sama?” She asks when he doesn’t answer her. 

She was confused. He was staring at her, but he couldn’t seem to hear her. And his eyes didn’t seem to be on hers, they seemed to be looking at something lower…She waves her hand in front of his face and he snaps out of it. 

“Huh? Did you say something Juvia?” Gray asks, embarrassed that he caught her staring.

“Yes. Juvia asked if Gray-sama wanted to help her set up her umbrella?” Juvia asks again.

“Oh yeah! Sure!” Gray answers a little too quickly. 

-----------------

She brings him to her towel and he immediately gets to work with the umbrella, using the task as an excuse not to look at her so he could get his thoughts in order. But then when he turns around to stand the umbrella up, she bends over to try to pick up a hermit crab she spotted, and his thoughts became even more scrambled. And now the umbrella wasn’t the only thing standing up.

Even before he returned his feelings for her, he’d always found her attractive. I mean who wouldn’t. But seeing her like this now that he knew he liked her, he couldn’t help but let his imagination indulge in thoughts of what her smooth skin would feel like under his hands. And what it would be like to touch the places that were covered underneath the fabric of her swimwear. How it would feel to have those long, gorgeous legs wrapped his waist while she moans his name in the throes of passion-

“Gray Fullbuster and Juvia Lockser sharing a towel together on the beach! So cool!” Jason exclaims, spotting them and coming over. 

Gray lets out a sigh of relief. This would be a good distraction from his smutty thoughts, for sure. 

“Hi Jason!” Juvia greets the photographer cheerfully. “Juvia found a hermit crab in the sand!” 

She shows him the little crab and he inspects it. 

“So cool!” He answers, predictably and Juvia sets the creature back down in the sand.

“Have you gotten any good photos so far?” Gray asks. 

“You bet!” Jason answers enthusiastically. “You Fairy Tail wizards make the hot beach look so cool! And seeing an ice make wizard, and a water mage, the two coolest magic element wizards standing here together in the sun has inspired an awesome idea for a photo! Can I take a picture of you two together on the towel?” 

“Oh Juvia would love that!” Juvia says and bounces on her feet. 

Gray gulps, as the action causes her breasts to move a bit and he was suddenly beginning to feel flustered again.

“Would Gray-sama pose on the towel with Juvia?” Juvia asks him. 

Even though Gray knew that getting close to her when her body was so exposed like this was a bad idea, he couldn’t say no to her. He’s already disappointed her too many times. 

“Sure, why not.” Gray says simply and the look of joy on her face was enough to make him smile too. 

“So cool!” Jason exclaims. 

Jason directed Gray to sit on the towel, so his side was facing the camera. And then he instructed Juvia to sit on top of him…on his lap…

“Uh…She’s gonna sit where?” Gray asks, with his face starting to turn red.

“She’ll be straddling you on your lap.” Jason explains.

“Is Gray-sama okay with that?” Juvia asks, blushing a bit as well.

Gray looks her over once again and considers his options. She’s just sitting on his lap, surely he could control himself right?

“Yeah, hop right on.” Gray says as confidently as he can.

Gray gulps as Juvia swings her leg over him so she’s straddling him and then sits herself down in his lap. He was eye-level with her ample chest and he could see the droplets of ocean-water roll down the valley between them. And the feeling of her warm, supple thighs on either side of his hips, squeezing him was making his mind head straight for the gutter as he imagined being in-between her legs for something other than a picture. He gently squeezes her sides as it takes all of his will-power to stay calm and collected. But any control he may have had over himself slipped away instantly when she gently held his chin in her fingers and tilted his head up to look at her.

“Gray-sama, is there a problem?” Juvia asks in a soft voice while Jason takes some pictures of them.

She was so beautiful. Like an ocean Goddess. And he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted her, and neither could his body. And soon Juvia could feel that against her and she gasps.

“Yeah. A big problem!” He mutters.

Gray gets up immediately and runs into the changing room, losing his swim trunks in the process, but that didn’t matter. He was alone now. He could take care of himself in here. But what he didn’t realize is that the cause of his arousal had followed after him to return his clothes to him. 

So when Juvia pulled back the curtains to announce herself, she got a full view of what she had done.

“Gray-sama are you alright-Oh!” Juvia exclaims when she sees the cause of his distress. 

Her pale face turns bright red and she covers her hands over mouth to keep from screaming as her eyes stay fixed on his crotch unable to look away, and neither could Gray. His eyes were fixed on her, wondering which one of them would speak first. 

“You...you were right.” Juvia says softly. “That is a...big problem.” She gulps and averts her gaze. 

Gray takes the opportunity to grab his trunks and pull them on. She was staying silent, which was less of a relief and more of a worry to Gray. Normally she couldn’t stop talking  and she’d cling to him. But now she was silent and unsure as she looks away from him.

“Gray-sama...” she says softly. 

“Yes Juvia?” Gray replies. 

She turns to face him again and meets his gaze. 

“Did Juvia...do that?” She asks shyly. 

Normally Gray would’ve lied. He would have denied it, called her crazy and stormed out while she chased after him. But things were different now. Now that he had become a man who could protect her, he didn’t have to reject her advances. Nor did he want to. He wanted her more than anything, and she had a right to know that. 

“Yes.” Gray answers.

Juvia’s eyes widen and she lets out a soft gasp. 

“You’re so beautiful Juvia, and you look so sexy in that swimsuit. I couldn’t help but get turned on. I’m sorry.” Gray explains. 

“Why is are you sorry Gray-sama?” Juvia asks. 

Getting more confident, she steps closer to Gray and he gulps. 

“Juvia has always wanted Gray-sama. So now if he wants Juvia...” She says and stops right in front of him, standing up on her tip-toes to kiss him. “He can take her.” 

So he did. 

He wraps one arm around her waist and holds her cheek in his other hand and brings his lips to hers. 

Juvia was surprised at first, but let herself melt into the kiss. Her hands moving up his chest to rest on his shoulders as they kissed. 

As they make out, she presses her body more firmly against his and Gray’s hands can’t help but wander her body. 

She presses up against the tent in his trunks, causing Gray to groan “Juvia” and Juvia to moan “Gray-sama”, a noise that only turns him on more. 

But before she can take off her top like she was working on doing, Gray places his hands over hers to stop her. 

“Wait.” He says. 

Juvia’s lustful gaze turns to one of worry. Gray felt a twinge of regret, knowing because of their past that she was afraid he would reject her again. But he wasn’t. In fact he was doing the opposite. 

“Come with me.” Gray says simply and takes her hand to lead her out of the changing room. 

Juvia’s heart soars with excitement. 

“Gray-sama, what are you doing?” She asks. 

“Taking you on a date.” Gray says and Juvia stops breathing for a moment. 

“Oh Gray-sama! That makes Juvia so happy! But why do you want to go on a date instead of just making love to Juvia?” Juvia asks. “Does Gray-sama not want Juvia in that way?”

“No. I do. But I figure that if we’re gonna do this, I wanna do it right.” Gray tells her. “And you mean too much to me for me to just screw you before I’ve done something to show you that I care about you.” 

Juvia blushes and runs up closer to Gray to hug his arm. 

“Juvia knows that you care about her. But whatever Gray-sama wants to do, Juvia is fine with.” Juvia says. 

“Alright then let’s go on a date.” Gray says. 

And with that they walk into the woods together.