#can visibly see them coming back from like a rough one and after cleaning themselves up just finding lucanis and asking for company

[cheaploafs]

they don’t sleep often let them have this

[pretty-little-mind33]

Sergei Kravinoff x fem!reader

Summary: After being taken by his father, you find comfort in each other in an unconventional way.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: rough quickie sex, dom!sergei, sub!reader, unprotected sex, penetration, riding, no foreplay, passionate, degradation, praise, reader cries, pain kink kinda? spanking, scratching, bleeding, blood, violence, insecurities, break down.

~ thank you @princesssunderworld for all the wonderful prompts as always!! hope you like this! ~

SERGEI KRAVINOFF MASTERLIST

His dad had crossed a line this time.

Sergei's dealt with so much bullshit from his dad as a kid and a teenager but this—capturing you? Hurting you? The one thing in his life that actually made sense? It was too much. His dad had crossed a line.

He didn't have any hesitation when he found the van, using all his strength to rip the driver in half. 

Literally. 

He could kill his father for this. He thinks he will. It wasn't helping that with every bullet that grazes his skin, he just becomes angrier. He throws one of the men to the side, snarling like an animal as his shoulders rise and fall rapidly.

That's when he sees you, curled up in the corner of the van, a chain bound to your ankle as you stare at him.  

"Малышка (Babygirl)," he grumbles, his voice husky and thick as he halts his movements. He drops the man he'd had in a chokehold. Sergei's body aches as blood drips down his arms and seeps through his shirt from the multiple bullet grazes and wounds. He stalks closer and when he sees you visibly flinch, his heart shatters. 

Luckily for anyone involved, you aren't hurt in significant any way just shaken up. His father hadn't gotten far with his plan, considering Sergei had found you almost immediately after he learned of your disappearance. 

You don't talk for a few hours as you're simply huddled on one of the armchairs in your shared living room, a warm blanket draped across thighs and a glass of Kissel, your favorite Russian drink Sergei makes so well, sits in your lap.

It isn't until your boyfriend finally walks in from the bathroom, shirtless and still dripping blood, that you snap into reality. He's grunting as he wraps a bandage around his arm, sitting down on the second armchair, and spreading his legs automatically. He sinks down and shuts his eyes, unaware of your disappearing into the bathroom for a moment. 

"You never take care of yourself," you whisper, causing him to open his eyes again and meet your gaze. You've come back and now you're examining the bruises on his hands. He yanks them away from you.

"Sit down, Y/n. You're hurt," he says harshly, shifting and then groaning in pain once more. 

You frown. It almost feels like all those walls you'd broken down over the last year had instantly built themselves back up, even stronger this time. Your heart sinks. You have minimal aches, mostly from the chains, and he's sitting here bleeding from bullet wounds and he insists you're the one who is hurt?

"Sergei," you whisper and lean over him, trying to see the new wounds mixed in with the old scars. "Please let me clean you up. You're hurt, not me," you say and bend over to dip some cotton balls in rubbing alcohol you'd found in the bathroom.

He stares at you, his eyes dark as you lean over and clean the blood from his face and his torso. He keeps grunting, thesounds deep from inside him. He isn't hissing in pain. No, he's grunting in anger, making almost animalistic sounds that cause a burning in your stomach.

You don't know how to help him when he's like this so you do the next best thing you can think of — you fall to your knees in front of him, your hands resting on his thighs.

"Stop," he warns as soon as he sees you do this, shaking his head. "Stand up."

You feel desperate as you run your hands up and down his jeans. 

"Малышка (Babygirl)," another warning, but this time he's leaning closer and grabbing your chin in his rough hand, squeezing. "You think dropping to your knees like a whore is going to make all this okay again? Make this normal? You could have died. I could have lost you," his voice wavers and he shuts his eyes, his chest heaves as he drops your chin and leans back.

"Stand up. Now," he orders again.

"I wanna make you feel better. You saved me," you say, reaching for the thick leather belt of his jeans, and that's when Sergei snaps.

His hand tightens in your hair suddenly, pulling you onto his lap as the dress you'd worn from last night, when his dad's men had taken you, still hugs your frame and the straps fall from your shoulders.

Sergei groans and grips your hips.

"You want me to fill you up? Is that what you want?" he accuses, unzipping his jeans in a frenzy now. He's achingly hard and he knows he shouldn't be but in his defense, all his emotions have had to build up somewhere. Your mind is fuzzy from desperate want and you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands become rougher on your skin.

You moan, feeling his hard cock underneath your ass. 

"You fuckin' slut," he grunts, dipping his hand underneath you, pulling aside your panties as he snaps them. He checks you. He wants to make sure you're wet so he won't hurt you. As much as he needs this and he wants to use you until you're a broken mess, it won't be fun for him if you're crying for all the wrong reasons. 

He grins and nips at your neck. "Your pussy is drenched, шлюха (whore)."

You whimper against his shoulder he sinks into you without any prior warning, his hands rough as he squeezes your ass and spanks you a few times. You bounce on him, your dress riding up your thighs as it bunches up at your hips, panties torn on the floor, as your eyes water.

It's overwhelming in the best way. Your pussy clenches around him, gripping his cock as his groans turn into moans.

"Shit, Sergei, please," you gasp as he fucks into you, his rhythm faster and harder than yours. You try and keep up. You cry out as he uses you, tears fall down your cheeks, and the room around you spins. Your eyes flutter. Your head drops onto his shoulders, your breathing becomes harder as he ruts into you.

"Черт, я люблю тебя. Я чертовски сильно люблю тебя, детка. (Fuck, I love you. I love you so damn much, baby)" he groans in your ear, chasing his high as his hands tighten on your skin and he presses harsh kisses on your cheeks to keep you staring up at him with that broken look in your eyes. You're making small whines from being unable to understand him when he speaks Russian and because he's making you feel so good. "Always so obedient, so willing to please me."

"Mhm, please," you groan, needing him. "Please, Sergei," you sob his name, clenching around him. "Can I come now? Need to come," you whimper. 

"No," he growls and you sob harder. He's enjoying your pain, relishing in your whines as you lose yourself in him. His movements become harsher, almost bruising as he takes you just the way he wants. 

"Please," your voice sounds weak and your moans have turned more painful. He hears the crying but he's too lost in his haze to stop now as he shakes his head and his nails dig into your skin.

"No." 

You squeal when he thrusts particularly hard and with a small, shit, he's coming inside you, spilling himself to the brim as his body tightens. You're whining, small lines of blood trickling from your arms where he'd scratched you as you follow his orgasm, experiencing yours as well even without his permission.

Sergei is panting now, his eyes bleary as he removes his hand from your skin, his palms tainted in your blood. His eyes widen as some control returns and he pushes away from you much too violently, causing a his of pain as that emptiness overwhelms you and you look at him with tear stained cheeks.  

"Дорогой (Sweetheart)," he whispers and reaches for you after he tucks himself back into his jeans, stumbling back when he sees the mess he'd made of you. He falls to his knees, all these sensations he's feeling finally overwhelm him and he sobs quickly, his head bent to the floor. 

Your heart clenches at the sight. Your legs feel shaky and you wince from your soreness as you walk over to him. You hate seeing him like this; so broken.

You adjust your dress and wipe your tears as you kneel beside him. "Baby," you whisper, "hey."

He flinches as looks up, his eyes red-rimmed and he shakes his head. "Run. Run away from me, love, please," his hoarse voice sounds shaky as his eyes flicker to your arm and he sees the blood again. He clenches his jaw.

"It's only a scratch," you tell him honestly and wipe the blood away, showing him that he didn't leave any permanent scars. You reach for him and take him into your arms. Surprisingly, he lets you, and his arms wrap around your waist, holding you close as his sobs shake your body. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry they took you," Sergei says, eyes softer than you've ever seen them. "You're so goddamn precious to me and–and goddamnit, I hurt you too— I'm just as bad as them." He holds you closer and sobs into your shoulder. "I'm a monster."

You shake your head and hold your hand in his hair, sinking further onto your heels as his weight overwhelms you. "No, no, you are not a monster. And you didn't hurt me. I'm okay. I promise. Sergei, I I love you," you say honestly.

He pulls away and cups your cheek so gently his touch is almost non-existent. "I love you too, Малышка (Babygirl), more than I've ever loved anyone." His hand smoothes down to the scratch marks he'd made in the heat of the passion and he bends down to kiss them better.

"My good girl," he breathes, relaxing a little, "even when she comes without permission."    

He looks up and holds your chin in his hand. "I mean what I said. You should run away from me, Y/n. Run so far and never look back. I need that for you, but even more, I want you to stay with me," he swallows thickly and after a pause he says, "Please. Don't leave me." 

Your stomach flutters at his words and you nod. "I won't leave you, Sergei. Never."

He growls that familiar animalistic growl and kisses your lips so gently, holding you in his arms as he vows to himself he'll keep you safe. 

Always.

[smiletimeisrunningout]

She hesitated visibly at that, because yes, of course he'd say that, she knew that if anyone else had been in her place she'd have told them to take it easy, that it wasn't their fault and that nobody was perfect. But it was her - and it seemed Ben was getting the chance to find out about her double standards.

"Why do I feel like we'd both be terrible at that?" Forgiving themselves when so severe - even her, despite her attempts to portray the opposite. Ben didn't even try to hide it.

His reaction to the wound, though, had some of her normal self come back to light: "It's a flesh wound!" she retorted with a snort, giving a dismissive wave of hand; sure, it hurt like hell, but no internal organs had been touched, no bone had been broken, so who cared, as long as it was properly disinfected. "I would do it myself, I have before. It's just that it's too far behind and I can't stitch it properly, nor... actually turn that much or I'll just reopen it. I can't believe this keeps happening to me..." Always her damn back. Because, more often than not, cowards attacked her or, like in this case, managed to slam her against something.

"Men always get weird when I'm injured..." she muttered, because the one time a woman had appraised her wounds, she had been just as snappy as Emma herself and not at all alarmed; in their defense, though, the men in question usually either cared about her or about not letting a princess die in their hands.

"It could still happen with some I did show interest to, but I get it..." she pointed out softly, this time finding herself doubtful - after seeing him in action now, she didn't think he'd blame her anyway. And it was endearing, truly, that he'd be so concerned about her physical pain; maybe he'd feel better if he knew that she could withstand far more, and she had done so in the past. But for the moment, she nodded at his apologetic warning and started getting ready, trying to leave her body without any tension so she wouldn't make it hurt more.

"No, sweetie, I'll break your hand," she laughed nervously as she said it, then shook her head and spoke faster: "Sorry, I know I shouldn't use petnames with you, I'm a little distracted by the pain you are promising. Not really happy 'bout that." Still half laughing, she grabbed the side of her chair instead, "Mouth thing? Hold on." As unceremonious as it was, she pulled the first wooden thing from her satchel so she could bite down on it, and did bite hard when he first started swabbing, though her only vocalizing of it was a small grunt; wouldn't have gone far in life if she screamed at every little stabbing pain. She waited - but truthfully, her head pains were worse, and she didn't need to hold back much.

When he finished cleaning, she freed her mouth. "Alright, I thought this was going to be a lot worse after what you said..." she commented breathlessly, feeling the sweat on her forehead but still glad it wasn't a screaming-in-agony situation. "You're not even going to have to burn it, so there is that. Listen, in my satchel I have a vial of an herbal sedative. It works on people's skin, it doesn't... go far, but people do use it for stitching in my kingdom." She had found occasion in the past, one of the many times she had gotten herself a bit roughed up, to tell him that she couldn't be put to sleep by normal means, the doctors had told her that another dose of that and may never woke up again, something about her body not accepting what was used to anesthetize, so it wouldn't come as a surprise that she had kept a little remedy aside for emergencies. "It's not very strong, but I can slap it on it and make this quicker."

She looked back, and felt herself overcome with something akin to pity for him, who had to do that, and she was the one to reach out for him this time, rubbing his arm encouragingly, "You are doing great. You are not hurting me as much as you think. My head hurts worse when my megrim episodes happen. And this will be over quickly, and I'll be fine." Of course now it was going to hurt again, and even with the vial it would hurt a lot, but that kind of pain was far easier to deal with.

Grudgingly, Benjamin had to admit she was right: it wasn't the way -- but he chose to neither affirm nor deny this. Emma was already punishing herself for the alleged crime, and he felt no need to pour additional salt upon the proverbial wound.

Instead, he softly offered, "Although it may be difficult for you to remember, given your position in this world, you're only human, Swan. The only one who can achieve perfection is God. Forgive yourself."

Even as the words left his lips, Benjamin detected the hypocrisy in them. He, himself, never failed to spiral down a road of self-punishment and martyrdom, and while Emma tended to the cloak tied around her throat, he lowered his eyes to afford her a hint of modesty.

She warned him of blood -- of wood crushing into bone -- and alarmed, his gaze snapped back up towards her face as she resituated herself with a wince.

On impulse, Benjamin rose and moved around to better appraise her condition. When she lifted her blood-soaked garment, he sucked a hissing breath through his teeth, horrified by the mottled puncture wound and her body's attempts at clotting. "Good God," he softly swore. Suddenly angry, he demanded, "Why did you think this could be tended to alone? Swan, this requires the expertise of a surgeon!"

Paling, Benjamin shrugged out of his coat and laid it over the back of his chair, then opened up his medical kit with trembling hands. All the gauze in the world wouldn't patch this up, and swearing anew, he fetched his whiskey jug before declaring, "Regrettably, I need to pour this over your wound to better appraise the area...there's too much blood and gunk to see what I'm dealing with." Glancing back at her, he offered an apologetic frown. "It's going to hurt. A lot."

"I have to admit... I thought by now I'd have to defend myself from your understandable accusation that I brought this upon myself by being too friendly to the men here."

Benjamin's brows knit together, and incredulous, he drew up to his full height, affronted by such a searing thought. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. "I may be an arsehole, but it isn't as though you've expressed an interest in Henry Randall. Perhaps if I'd seen you lead him on, I would think differently, but...you didn't." Lowering his eyes, Benjamin took a strip of gauze, then carefully poured whiskey onto the cloth until it soaked through. Placing a hand onto Emma's shoulder, he encouraged, "Bite down on something if you must...take my hand and squeeze, if need be."

Hesitant, he released her shoulder, then extended his hand while pressing down upon the wound with the alcohol-soaked gauze.

[thebellekeys]

parts of some classic lit that hit different for me

“Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only Beauty. There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.”

- the iconic piece on books and morality from The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since – on the river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets. You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of which the strongest London buildings are made, are not more real, or more impossible to displace with your hands, than your presence and influence have been to me, there and everywhere, and will be. Estella, to the last hour of my life, you cannot choose but remain part of my character, part of the little good in me, part of the evil. But, in this separation I associate you only with the good, and I will faithfully hold you to that always, for you must have done me far more good than harm, let me feel now what sharp distress I may. O God bless you, God forgive you!

- the “you are in every line I have ever read” tyrade in Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.

- the whole opening of Lolita by Vladimir Nabakov

My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.

- Catherine’s confession about Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.

- Darcy admitting the big truth to Lizzy in Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people rising from this abyss. I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy. I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence. It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.

- Sydney Carton’s last words (*crying*) in A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

You cling so tightly to your purity, my lad! How terrified you are of sullying your hands. Well, go ahead then, stay pure! What good will it do, and why even bother coming here among us? Purity is a concept of fakirs and friars. But you, the intellectuals, the bourgeois anarchists, you invoke purity as your rationalization for doing nothing. Do nothing, don’t move, wrap your arms tight around your body, put on your gloves. As for myself, my hands are dirty. I have plunged my arms up to the elbows in excrement and blood. And what else should one do? Do you suppose that it is possible to govern innocently?

- Hoederer being a realistic bad bitch, that’s what, in Les Mains Sales by Jean-Paul Sartre

I couldn’t forgive him or like him, but I saw that what he had done was, to him, entirely justified. It was all very careless and confused. They were careless people, Tom and Daisy—they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.

The “they were careless people” realization in The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

‘Hateful day when I received life!' I exclaimed in agony. 'Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust? God, in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after his own image; but my form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid even from the very resemlance. Satan had his companions, fellow-devils, to admire and encourage him; but I am solitary and abhorred.'

Frankenstein’s monster’s teenage angst in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein

[katsukisprincess-archive]

need | kiribaku x reader

a/n: jo asked me to reupload this from her birthday last year! for @lady-bakuhoe

summary: kirishima is hit with an aphrodisiac quirk on the job and bakugou knows exactly who can help him out.

pairing: mostly kirishima x reader, slight bakugou insert

word count: 2.3k

warnings: nasty. dubcon, rimming, fisting, implied pegging, dirty talk, squirting, slight threesome

“Shut up, shitty hair, you’re going to wake her.” 

“I can’t help it, dude, look at her.” 

The voices peaked through your consciousness, followed by a cold whisp of air that caused bumps to rise on the exposed skin of your leg. You let out a groggy noise, finally allowing your eyes to blink open to the scene in front of you. You tried to focus in and when the spinning shapes of morning turned into figures, you found it hard to believe that what you were looking at was reality. 

Katsuki Bakugou, your husband, was sitting across the room from you in a chair. His arms were crossed against his chest and he had a classic smirk on his face, already alerting you that something was off. What it was, you discovered, was the grown man in bed with you- one that smelled like battle and sweat and everything you didn’t want against your sheets. 

Eijirou Kirishima was someone you were very familiar with. He had been your friend alongside Katsuki since the Yuuei days and up through the present; he was at nearly every house function and worked in the same agency as Ground Zero. Kirishima was no stranger at all, but you just weren’t used to him in your bed. 

“W-What? Eijirou? Katsuki?” Your voice was so innocent, so meek, that it went straight to his already-stiffening cock. His reaction made your head snap to him, and then to your husband, and back and forth until Katsuki finally stood up at joined you at the side of the bed. 

His hot palm brushed your hair back while the other cascaded your stomach, easing the goosebumps from the open window. His lips came down to your forehead where he pressed a rough kiss before speaking. “Got hit by a quirk on the job today.” He motioned to your friend, who was having a hard time keeping his eyes off of your bare torso.

“And?” 

“Help me.” Eijirou rasped. “We joke about it all the time- fuck- right?” 

He wasn’t wrong. Conversations about your sex life were in no way private and in no sense of it all had Katsuki ever been closed off to the idea of his best friend joining in on the fun. You had just figured that when- if- it had happened, it would have happened on… different terms. 

But how could you say no to Red Riot on his knees for you, thick cock straining through his shorts and leaking through the fabric?

You crawled over to Eijirou as Katsuki sunk back into his chair on the other side of the room. Leaning back and legs spread, he watched as you closed the distance, your grabby hands urging Eijirou’s massive length out of his shorts. It was so large you could barely wrap your fingers around it, truly. He was bigger than Katsuki was, but you were sure that he had much less experience using it compared to his belligerent best friend. As you took in the sight of his meat, Katsuki was pulling his own out of his pants across the room. 

One upward tug on Eijirou was all it took for his first orgasm to hit him- and it hit him hard. Thick ropes of cum shot across the mattress and over your thighs, marking you up for the first time that night. He came with a guttural grunt, but by the time he was finished, you could tell he was in no way even close to being satisfied. 

“Fuck,” Eijirou exclaimed, toppling you onto your back and laying his weight on yours, attacking your neck with his teeth and drawing blood on the first plunge. “This quirk. I’m sorry, shit, I can just smell you from here-” 

Eijirou pulled himself off of you to yank your lacy panties off of your frame. With a yelp your hips landed back on the bed and you watched in shock as he brought them up to his nose and smelled your essence that was dripping against the material. A visible shiver ran down his spine and you caught yourself rubbing your thighs together, strangely turned on by the sight of Red Riot sticking his tongue out just to suck on your panties. 

“Taste her, Eij, it’s like fucking candy.” Katsuki’s voice was strained, and it only fueled your lust further to see him lazily jerking his own girthy cock in his hands. It was one thing to fuck your partner, but it was near etheral to watch them pleasure themselves with an outside perspective. With his hair fanned back and dirt still sticking to his skin, Katsuki looked delicious. 

You didn’t have much time to think on your husband as Eijirou quickly tore your legs open, dipping his head down to lick a clean stripe up your folds. You gasped at the sudden intrusion and your thighs moved down to clamp around his head, but they were immediately slammed back open and shoved back against your chest by two large, hot hands. 

While unexperienced, Eijirou was passionate. He was moving so quickly and so harshly against your sensitive skin that you couldn’t keep up, instead deciding to crane your neck to watch him suck and slurp. His eyes would come up to meet yours occasionally, shooting you a desperate look from under lidded eyes. Mewls and whimpers fell from your lips like a song, and you were unable to stop yourself from bucking up against his face and forcing your juices to coat his cheeks and chin. 

“Get her ass, too. She’s a dirty little slut, aren’t you, princess? You want Eij to rim you?” 

Both of you on the bed groaned instantaneously at Katsuki’s lewd notion. Since Eijirou’s hands were planted flat on your thighs, it was easy for him to push you up and use his thumbs to spread your cheeks apart, your back arched into the air and your ass leveled with his mouth. His tongue moved to prod at your tight hole before he began running circles around it. One hand moved to rub at your clit at the same time, and before you could react, you were cumming. Eijirou groaned as your asshole flexed against his tongue and waited for you to settle down before dropping your back onto the bed once more. 

“You felt so good Eijirou, let me feel your cock~”

Before you could continue, he had slipped three fingers at once into your cunt. It was tight, and it hurt, but he looked absolutely desperate above you, holding his weight on one arm and pummeling his hand into your heat to chase you along. 

“You’re so fucking tight.” He muttered, his cock twitching as he watched his fingers disappear inside of you. A fourth finger was slipped in and you cried out loudly, your hands flying down to grab at his wrist. Pain soon fell into pleasure and Eijirou climbed up on the bed, resting his forehead on yours and fucking you until he was sure you were warmed up enough for his thumb as well.

“Gotta stretch you out, babe.” He was so deliriously lost in lust that he was unable to form full sentences, but you got the gist of what he was saying. Under him, his cock looked dauntingly thick, and you wondered how it would feel inside of you compared to what was now his entire fist inside of you. 

Tears broke the surface and cascaded down your face as Eijirou’s pace picked up, burying himself wrist deep inside of you. Katsuki couldn’t keep his eyes off of the scene- it was so fucking dirty and something he had been dreaming about for so long. Watching his best friend wreck his little princess was a fantasy buried deep in his brain that was finally breaking the surface. 

“Please, please, please, Eijirou, please-” Your begging turned into sobs, unable to hold back when he was stretching you further than you had ever been before. “Please give me your cock, Red Riot. Ple~”

The use of Eijirou’s hero name snapped something inside of him. 

You had never felt an orgasm hit you harder than your third of the night, almost immediately after you began swiping at your clit in time with his thrusting. Eijirou didn’t slow his pace as you began to gush over the sheets, squirting all over his torso. “That’s a good girl, fuck, babe. Fuck.” 

The feeling of his fist pulling out from you left you feeling empty. His hand was covered in slick and your stomach churned as he brought it up to his mouth and sucked off as much as he could before bringing it to your mouth and making you taste yourself. Dizzy and overstimulated, your eyes drifted to Katsuki, who was covered in his own cum and panting heavily. 

Eijirou was reaching a breaking point. He wanted- no- he needed to cum again, and while the idea of him shoving his length down your hot throat sounded like a dream, he couldn’t pass up the way your gaping cunt was currently clenching around nothing.

“Fuck her, Eijirou, or I’m going to do it for you.” Katsuki hissed from the other side of the bedroom, already growing hard again at the thought of either option. There was something so fucking sexy to him about watching you get thrown around and used like a fuck doll, not being able to say anything to complain with his friend’s massive frame towering over yours. 

“I haven’t done this much.” Eijirou muttered as he positioned his cock to your entrance and adjusted himself accordingly. When you gave him a questioning look, he continued. “Haven’t been able to fit it in.” 

His words partly made your stomach flip while also sending you into desire overdrive, causing you to help pull your legs apart to give a better view. You wanted to watch his girth stretch you once again, this time helping his current problem and getting your husband off at the same time. He already knew you’d be getting him back for this all at some point, especially when your eyes drifted over to see that it was just past three in the morning, but you were going to enjoy it while it happened.

Eijirou pushed the tip in slowly, watching your face for any signs to stop. You only dropped your jaw and whined, pulling your legs closer to you and trying to get a better view of it. His cock was fucking insane, truly, and it was an thought in your mind that was finally being satisfied. “You are huge, Red Riot.” 

With a grunt, he thrusted himself all the way in. You should have known that your games were misplaced, especially during a time where Eijirou was in a completely different state of mind. He didn’t really know that his dick was so fucking thick that is was going to split you in half, and when he crawled forward and slammed you into a mating press, you knew he really was completely oblivious. 

“Tight fucking pussy.” His words were sloppy, but the force in his thrusts made up for it. His thighs felt enormous on either side of yours and you wondered how much cock he couldn’t stuff inside of you as you felt nearly overwhelmed with the sheer weight of it. “Gonna fucking tear you apart.” 

Animalistic was an understatement. His thrusts were so loud that it rang through the room and between his noises and yours, you were sure you could be heard down the street. Katsuki had moved over to you, watching and jerking his cock. He slipped his fingers into your mouth, watching you suck down on him as his hand moved frantically. 

“Fuck her harder, Eij, she’s not crying.” 

You would be crying if you could breathe. He was so close to you, radiating so much heat and so much force that you were lost for movements. You laid limp as he took you, his cock dragging against your walls and stuffing you beyond repair. His mouth found your nipple and soon his hand found your other tit, giving both so much attention and bruising while still tearing away with his thrusts. 

Katsuki pressed his hand down onto your forehead, giving him access to see your tear-stained cheeks and watch as your face morphed into one of serious pleasure. He was bearing his teeth as he came closer to you, signaling that he was about to cum and it was going to be all over your fucked out expression. 

Eijirou pulled out at the same time, crawling up your body to angle his swollen cock at your face and join Katsuki in covering it completely. You stuck your tongue out to catch both of them as white strings coated you, both of their scents mixing and both cumming enough to leave you overwhelmed. 

After he was finished, Eijirou fell back on his heels before crawling off the bed and over to your dresser. You watched in curiosity, still covered in cum but realizing that Katsuki must have mentioned that was where your toys were kept. You didn’t know what you were expecting him to pull out of there, but it definitely wasn’t a strap-on. 

“It’s our turned to be fucked, don’t you think, babe?”

[dorimena]

Hi, I love your work and if your requests are open would you consider the following?

Monoma is on patrol with y/n and Monoma being well....Monoma, he was horny and was teasing y/n. Not having any of this shit, she proceeds to dom the fuck out of him during patrol. She takes him into an alleyway and fucks him with a strap that she had on her already (she was already planning on something but didn’t go through with it because work is work and she’s aware that Monoma and her could take their time when they got home). She pushes him into the wall and fucks him silly. Monoma is loving it and keeps begging “Mommy fuck me more, please!”. She gives him what he wants but she tells him to be quiet or else the bystanders would fine their great Phantom Thief in a puddle of his own cum while getting fucked by his mommy. At some point two civilians hear Monoma panting and hiccuping and get concerned. Y/n keeps fucking him and reassures them that Phantom Thief is fine. He cums then and there and she tells him to reassure the civilians that he’s ok. Monoma whimpers out that he’s fine and y/n cleans him up and cuddles him in the alleyway telling him how much of a good boy he was.

(I’ve been thinking about this ever since I read your shower blowjob story. This man makes the dom in me go crazy. He’s already a whining bitch, having him be like that in the bedroom just- 😫)

Let me say that I’ve had a scene in my head almost the same as this one you sent me and I am absolutely thrilled because yessss more attention to bratty baby Monoma ٩(♡ε♡)۶

And honestly, this man is just asking for it. Bet he wants to fucked anywhere, anytime, as long as he's put back into his place. That's his kink-

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Monoma Neito

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 3.5k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, pegging, mommy kink, slight exhibitionism, public sex, mentioned sex toy (butt plug), implied overstimulation, multiple orgasms, implied after care, domme!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; begging, humiliation, Monoma being a little shit, because he wanted your attention, and to rile the fuck out of you, aged-up character: Monoma is 20+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; I unknowingly kind of changed a few things from the ask, like the conversation between Monoma and the bystanders, but I hope you like it anon! The ending is kind of rushed, sorry about that!

𝕭𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖎𝖘 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐

“Now, now, y/n, you know ignoring someone, specifically the love of your life, is a crime? How else are you to beg for my love if you go on and ignore my graceful presence? Are you listening to me? At least lend me your attention.”

He’s been like this for the past couple of hours since you’ve both been assigned together for patrol. You thought it’d be a good idea, and Monoma was also excited when your boss told you both to get ready and head to the neighborhood you’re meant to keep a watch over.

The neighborhood turned out not as empty or quiet as you expected, rather close to a busy street. Some stores and restaurants seem to align themselves around this area.

You thought things would go smoothly, go even better and much quicker now that you and your boyfriend are finally patrolling together, months since you’ve transferred to this agency from your old one.

But Monoma’s been leaving any and every snide remark since you two stepped foot into the area, teasing you for any small mistake he believes should be (loudly) called out for or simply trying to mess up your way of doing things.

You don’t even want to count how many times he’s criticized the way your hero outfit currently looks on you. And no, you’re not getting insecure, but rather more… cautious.

There’s a reason why the uniform seems a bit odd around your crotch, but he doesn’t need to know that, not here, not now. Maybe until you both get home-

You trip, almost falling flat on your face if it weren’t for your boyfriend quickly grabbing you, pulling you up to your feet as he looks at you with panic before it quickly dissipates to his stupid mockery.

“See? You cannot do anything right, not without me at least. You, my dear, cannot live without me yet you still ignored me. This is what I mean when you should listen to me. Anyone would truly be grateful for having me, Phantom Thief, as their beloved lover.”

That’s it. You usually can take so much of his weird comments, but right now he’s pulling anything out of his ass at this point. (Soon you’ll see what actually comes out.)

You don’t answer, just look around to make sure no one is watching as you grab him by his stupid tie, dragging him to the nearest alleyway you remember passing by, glad it’s still pretty empty and dark enough to hide your bodies in the shadows.

He isn’t even struggling, just letting you walk him as if he’s a dog, quietly following you. If you were to turn around, you’d see the way his eyes are wide yet full of lust, his pupils dilated as he mentally cheers, thanking the gods for listening to his horny prayers of being sucked in an alleyway.

Do you know how hard it was for him to not jump you and beg you to help him? All because of how sexy you look in your hero outfit, how the small fixes and modifications bring out more of your body, the body he loves, yearns, desires, every day and night. Hopefully you don’t find his surprise before he can debut it once you guys are back home. (But unintentionally came prepared.)

He’s a complete fool for you, but you can’t know that, or else it’ll be the end of-

“Monoma Neito. You have 5 seconds to tell me why the fuck you’re being a piece of shit tonight.”

He didn’t realize his back is against a cold wall or how you’ve trapped him between your arms, the way you’re glaring at him while counting down in such a low tone, it makes his legs feel weak and threaten to buckle..

“Horny.” He barely whispers, crazed eyes never leaving your face as he stays still, trying to control his breathing and heartbeat as you scan him from head to toe, eyes finally staying in place where his boner is visible, even with how poor the lighting is.

You grin, but not your usual friendly grin or familiar flirty grin, but the ‘I’m gonna fuck you till you die’ kind of grin.

And Monoma’s both terrified yet super, duper much more hornier than before. But, with what are you going to fuck him with?

In a flash, he’s suddenly turned around, his clothed-covered chest pressing against the wall as he feels your hands make quick work on his belt, on his pants, pulling them down to rest on his thighs. He hisses and shivers when the cold air hits every exposed part of him, yet makes his dick twitch in interest.

You also free your bottom half to finally let out the strap on you’ve luckily managed to hide until now, searching your pockets for the small tube of lube you brought with you, just in case.

But when you spread his butt cheeks, you gasp in surprise with the butt plug he’s wearing, going to grab the toy as you slowly pull it out in disbelief.

Did he know?

“I-I want you to know you’re not the, um, only one to be prepared for what they want.” Monoma speaks, but in such a soft tone that it has you wondering if he’s the same person who had pestered you since the beginning of the patrol, the same boyfriend you love who has a talent for being loved and hated simultaneously by various people.

But at least he didn’t know. He simply decided to take this extra mile.

Cute. No wonder he’s such a good boy for mommy… sometimes.

“Then I guess I shouldn’t prepare you, right?”

You don’t wait for his response, not when you dispose of the toy away from you both, and you make quick work to lube up your silicone cock.

Monoma doesn’t get to ask you about the wet sounds behind him, or ask where you threw his butt plug before you’re entering him. You felt how his body jolted, his back arching enough to push his ass back more towards you.

You land a smack against the smooth skin, listening how the impact echoes in the empty alleyway and the way he whimpers in pain.

“You’re such a slut for mommy, aren’t you Monoma?”

“Yes!”

No hesitation.

Monoma usually sounds hesitant whenever you two do something new, as if he evaluates the pros and cons from anything and everything, figuring out if he’ll come out benefitted or you.

But he sounds desperate, shameless. He sounds like he’s ready to cry.

New, but not too surprising. When he wants to, he’ll always be a good boy for his mommy.

“Want to tell mommy again why you were being a little bitch tonight?”

Never mind, his hesitation came back, his mouth pressed shut as you peek at him, trying to catch a glimpse at his periwinkle eyes, wondering what’s taking him so long to answer. He answered you so easily, so quickly a few minutes ago.

You hear a soft mumble, see his lips move but no sound gets to your ears. So you spank him once more, hearing his cute squeak and the way he fucks back.

“Louder.”

“I wanted mommy to fuck me! Fuck me until I can’t walk! Fuck me until I’m just your stupid little hole! Please? I’ll-I’ll be good now, I promise!”

If anyone were to ask you just how stupid Monoma gets when he’s completely horny and turned on, this is a prime example. His usual eloquent vocabulary? Gone. It doesn’t exist once mommy’s pleasing him.

But he’s also promising about being good? Let’s see how good he’ll be then.

No more words are exchanged, just the soft desperate pants of the pretty blond and some small airy whines that leave his mouth in anticipation for what you’ll do next.

You don’t even start slow, you go absolutely feral.

He barely gets to inhale one last deep breath until you’re fucking that out of his lungs, his head turning to look back at you as best he could as his body begins hitting the wall in front of him, his clothes rubbing against the roughness of the bricked exterior of the unknown building. He lifts head enough to not get itself hit against the wall and his hands are clawing at the bricks desperately, trying to find leverage to hold on tightly, his brain struggling to catch up with how vicious yet delicious you’re fucking him.

When he does remember he’s a human who can speak words, he cries out “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” in such high pitches, it sounds like he’s singing, probably trying to continue seducing you into such a horny haze. His pent-up sexual frustration must have been infectious, with how you find yourself being merciless with him and his ass, your hips slamming into the back of his in such a brutal pace you wonder if the skin will bruise, if he’ll be able to sit or walk properly.

Probably not, but that’s the point, isn’t it?

Your baby boy wanted you to fuck the living shit out of him, so that’s what you’ll do, it’s what you’re best at doing.

Fuck the annoyance out of him so that when you guys get home, he passes out.

You momentarily forget you guys are very much still in public and even if it’s night, civilians are very much still awake and walking, either going back home or going to work, maybe hang out with their friends or find themselves a sub to fuck.

Monoma doesn’t even warn you that he’s cumming, not even his loud, prolonged whine of your name gets your attention. But with how he’s spasming around your toy, how his hips are twitching quickly in between your hands, his eyes that never left from looking at you crossing…

Yeah, since you missed that orgasm and you’re not in the mood to exactly punish him, why not fuck him some more until he can’t remember his name and only yours?

You briefly pause, the tip of the toy the only thing still inside of him as one of your hands rubs circles on his lower back and the other remains on his hip.

Through the panting, Monoma lets out a whine, one that sounds almost disappointed. Probably because he came far quicker than what either of you two expected, or because it feels like you’re pulling out already and calling it a night.

No words are exchanged as you watch him catch his breath for a bit more, memorizing how rosy his cheeks and nose look, how the blush looks like it’s on his neck while his white pupils are fully dilated, oozing his adoration for you.

When you hear him suck in a breath, whether he’s preparing a sentence or to finish pulling himself off the toy, you slam back into him, grinning like a maniac upon feeling how his whole body jumped, going back into action and having blood pump everywhere in him, mostly towards his reawakening dick.

And you slam, slam, slam, slamming into him at such a steady pace, making sure to roll your hips the way you know will make him start squealing in such a girly tone, or like a dirty pig he sometimes becomes.

And once you feel him begin to push back on you and one of his hands leave the wall, you lean forward, pushing his body more up on the wall. He’s bent too much, it’s obvious you’re fucking him doggy style. What if people decide to go through this alley?

He obeys but whines in complaint, not wanting you to stop your ministrations as he pulls himself together, standing up as much as he could as to leave his lower back still bent for you.

“Keep your hands on the wall or else I’ll leave you here like this.”

He loves it when you speak to him in such a low voice, in such a way that you know makes him want to suck your cock for days until his jaw hurts. He puts his hands back on the wall, both placed where his face is at, acting as support as he rests his forehead there. His neck hurts a bit from how long he’s been straining to look at you.

You go back to fucking him, going back to what you were doing, moaning his name repeatedly to keep riling him up, arouse him and make him start begging for you to go faster, harder, deeper, make him dirty.

And he does with loud wails, ones that have you freezing and stopping all together, slapping a hand on his mouth and whispering how he should quiet down, unless he wants to be whored to other people.

“Be mommy’s good boy and keep quiet. Unless you want someone else’s cock.”

“No! No muh-mommy! Only y-yours~ Please!” He moans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he impatiently grinds against you, feeling how sticky his thighs are getting with sweat and some of his cum and precum, somehow.

“Mommy, fuck me more, please!” He whimpers so cutely, so pathetically, so melodically you’re sure he somehow copied someone’s siren quirk, because your head feels dizzy, your heart is beating erratically and your hips sync with the pulse, forgetting about being consistent with speed, with roughness, with how deep you reach inside of him.

Fucking him silly until he’s trying his best to muffle his screams and cries into the back of his hands pressed on the wall, his fingers trying so hard to find solace on them, to grasp the reality of him being defiled in an empty, dirty alleyway, pressed so ruthlessly against a wall he doesn’t know how exactly dirty it could be.

Monoma’s hiccuping your name until you spank him, growling softly how that’s not who you are, making him wail out “Mommy! Cumming!” in such an erotic way, you wonder if you’re fucking your boyfriend or a girl with how he’s managed to reach such an incredible pitch.

You keep going, and even when he’s done cumming, you don’t stop impaling him, and a hand goes to wrap itself around his dick, trying your best to match this chaotic fucking, hearing how he’s struggling to breath, to comprehend this painful yet electrifying pleasure.

His toes are curling in his shoes, his knees don’t stop buckling, his hips never stop trying to meet with yours, the burn of overstimulation flowing through his veins yet motivating his dick to keep going, to keep obeying, to not disappoint mommy.

Monoma’s speaking gibberish, babbling whatever nonsense and begging he could think of or come to make up, the tips of his fingers turning white with how hard they’re pressing against the bricks as he tries to not fall. He’s not sure how or why he’d fall, but with how you’re touching him, squeezing him, stroking him, playing with him, he’s ready to give into the inquiry of whether being a househusband would have you fucking him like this everyday.

It’s a weird thought, one he’s never had before, one that’s still early to even care about-

Oh my god you’re abusing his prostate!

He’s seeing stars, planets, flashing strobe lights and envisioning his uproaring third orgasm, mouth hung open stupidly as whiny sobs and strangled cries escape him, trying his best to keep quiet like you said but he can’t!

“Feels s’ good!” He slurs, once again turning his head to look at you, eyes completely wet as tears fall in graceful droplets, hair messed up and drool staining a bit of his chin.

And just as you were going to respond, you heard footsteps.

You both freeze: you’re halfway out of him while Monoma’s struggling to not let his coughing fit be heard, having swallowed his saliva far too quickly with the scare.

The sounds stop, but now you both can hear a female voice.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

Monoma whimpers, embarrassed.

So this is how he’ll get caught and shamed.

This is the end of his career.

But you’re not having it, not with how his dick has stopped twitching and is starting to soften.

You’re not done yet, and neither is he.

“Answer, Monoma.” You harshly whisper, wiping your thumb over his hypersensitive tip, making him hiccup loudly before composing himself as best he could.

“Y-yes? It-It is I, Phantom Thief- ooh~”

Another voice pitches in.

“Phantom Thief? The Phantom Thief?!”

“Y-Yes!” Monoma squeaks out, trying to cover up his gasp as you begin to slowly fuck him, making sure to keep hitting him straight to the prostate, amused how he’s gripping his jaw, muffling his hiccups while frantically shaking his head, begging you with his eyes to no, no, please!

The two bystanders gasp, seemingly walking more towards where you and Monoma are, making you press him more into the wall, hoping the angle you’re both in and the small hiding spot is enough to keep you hidden.

“We’re huge fans of yours! But, um, are you alright? We heard someone crying.”

“Fuck!” Monoma whimpers, struggling to keep his breathing in check as you continue to move, even rolling your palm all over his tip, your other hand going to pull at one of his nipples.

“What was that?”

“N-nothing! I’m fin- ugh~”

“You… sure?”

“YES!”

Monoma yells, back arching as his head touches your shoulder, eyes rolling up this head as he’s torn between pushing back or bucking forwards, feeling his body submerged in such an intense heat, in such shame, in such pathetic desperation to cum, he’s begging you in quick hushed moans to please, pretty please, make him cum, he wants to cum, needs to cum again.

“And your fans?” You whisper teasingly, feeling how he shivers with how close your breath is near his ear.

“Fu-uck my fans-”

“Now now, that’s something you never said before. Did I fuck Monoma Neito out of you?”

And you go back with the brutal pace, not caring if the other two bystanders can hear what’s going on, not caring if they come out traumatized or probably aroused with how obvious it is that their dear Phantom Thief is getting fucked in a shady place, in a nasty place, yet he’s silently wailing and convulsing with everything you’re giving him.

Your hand soon enough gets sticky with what little cum his poor, weak body produced, his hole clenching tightly around your strap-on while his hands fly back to grasp any part of you that he could reach, which ended up being your head.

The bystanders speak again while Monoma’s busy wheezing his gratitude.

“Are you sure you’re alright? We could call the police-”

“I’m alright! ‘m fine~” He managed to sing-song, but if you heard a bit of his whimper seep from the last word, you don’t say anything, simply slow down your stroking before pausing.

You hear their footsteps slowly go back towards where they probably came from, making Monoma let out shaky exhales of relief and satisfaction, small giggles slipping from time to time as you kiss his neck, his cheek, his jawline.

And once you are certain you’re both alone again, you slowly pull out of him, helping him to turn around so that his back presses against the wall.

Until he grimaces.

“My essence is, from my deduction, splattered on this disgusting wall.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you point down to where his pants are, laughing harder when you see how his grimace turns into a face of disgust, horror, shame, surprise, arousal- wait what?

You don’t question the last one, simply letting out the last of your giggles while you search for the disinfectant wipes you tend to carry with you in your utility belt. And once they’ve been found, you make him lick your cum-covered hand first before properly passing a wipe. You hand Monoma one so that he cleans his face if needed, disinfect his hands, his thighs, anywhere he thought he needed to clean.

No, that's a lie. You took care of his thighs and pelvis, trying your best to clean the spots where his cum reached his pants before peppering a few gentle kisses around his exposed skin.

Pulling his briefs and pants up, buttoning, zipping, fasting his belts. You let out a happy sigh, fixing his hair and tie.

You then fix yourself.

“Who’s mommy’s good boy, Monoma?”

He somehow managed to chirp. “I am, mommy.”

“Then, you’ll stop being a bitch tonight, right? Mommy made sure to fuck it out of you.”

“Oh, um,” aw, he’s blushing. “I suppose…”

When you both walk away from the much-more defiled wall, you hold back an amused snort with how Monoma seems too unstable with his feet, how his legs seem to shake with every step he tries to take and how frustrated he looks with how uncooperative his body is.

You decide that chilling and cuddling in that corner wouldn’t be so bad, and considering how your shift ended minutes ago, you doubt either you or Monoma will get into trouble.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

hmmm can vampires get sick? maybe sick vampire chris thinking Jake is gonna pull out or file down his fangs? or just thinking Jake’s gonna hurt him?

CW: Sick whumpee, vampire whumpee, blood drinking, vague implications of past sadistic/creepy whumper, dehumanization, vague tooth/mouth whump (nothing direct, but aftermath)

Sort of a sequel to this piece, part of the Vampire Chris AU

"What hurts?" He keeps his voice low, and carefully doesn't hesitate before he lays a hand over the vampire's forehead. Of course it feels lukewarm, room temperature, but he still goes through the motions of feeling for a fever. It's muscle-memory, instinct, and he keeps forgetting Chris is dead.

He has been dead for a long time, if his occasional comments on what sounds like Prohibition are true.

"Bones," Chris whimpers, twisting where he lays in Jake's bed. There's a bright flush in his cheeks from the blood he'd drained from the two men who broke into the house. Those odd eyes glitter, overbright. "My... m'bones hurt, Jake."

His mouth opens, pulling air in over his tongue and down his throat in soft pants, and Jake is reminded that vampires don't sweat. Not the same way, anyway, although with enough blood they can, in thin sheens of pink-tinged liquid that are even more alarming than their tears.

His fangs are visible this way, razor-sharp canines that come down further than the rest of his teeth, a brighter white than all the others from being pulled and regrowing so many times.

Jake swallows against his nervousness, brushing hair away from the vampire's forehead. His slit pupils are dilated, taking up too much of the iris, and he tells himself that Chris is as scared as he is of the instincts that drive him, barely understands them.

Vampires aren't animals - but when they don't understand themselves, they act like it sometimes.

"Do you think maybe those guys were on something? Like, a drug maybe?" He pets through Chris's hair, fingercombing his hair, and watches Chris's eyes flutter closed.

It's hard not to feel more than a little reassured not having to look at them any longer. Which makes him feel guilty, considering this not-a-kid kid just beat up people for hurting him.

Killed them, his brain whispers. Killed them like he could kill you.

"May, maybe," Chris mumbles, and pants again.

His gums seem oddly dark, where normally they're pale, and Jake frowns. He wishes now he knew more about vampire physiology, that he'd paid more attention in class when they took the safety courses on how to avoid them.

There's not exactly a class on caring for one - not unless you can afford to purchase them outright.

"Well, when you were-... uh, before you found us... did you ever feel like this?"

Chris's eyes blink slowly back open and he nods. "Sometimes. My, my, my, my-... someone would, um, take something before, before the party, and I'd..." He groans and shudders. Jake can see the pain move through his body as he trembles nearly violently. "I'd feel like, like, like this after... for hours..."

"Okay. So... probably you just have to let this get worked out of your system, right? Or... is there a medicine?"

"No... just... just drink more." Chris looks up at him, eyes so wide and sad and scared and hurting, and grabs onto his wrist with one hand. Those cool fingers are never not a little startling, colder than the air around them, than the rest of his body.

Vampires have poor circulation, Jake knows, even when they're filled up on a fresh meal. He's seen Chris heal his own wounds before with his tongue, had him explain that they don't heal on their own with time if they're on hands or feet.

"Chris-"

"You, you, you, you-... can, um, you can take my teeth after. You can. I'll hold still. I'll, I'll be good." Chris's plea is barely a whisper.

His nails, which must have been a little too long when he was killed and turned, dig painfully into Jake's wrist in his desperation.

"I'll be so, so, so so so so good, Jake. So good for you, and then, you can, you you you can take my teeth-... Sir always liked it, it makes me me me cry, we we cry blood, Sir liked to take photos of it-"

"Sssshhhh. Hush, Chris." Jake's mind races. There are others in the house, but-... he can't ask them to give up blood to Chris. They've already taken over cleaning the blood up from the hardwood floor. Nat's already dealt with talking to the cops and the EMTs and the coroner before the bodies were taken away. They already handled hiding Chris in a false-backed closet while Jake was interviewed by police officers who looked interested and excited,, not disturbed.

It's not every day you see a vampire attack, after all.

Mostly they're under control, kept on leashes and muzzled like dangerous dogs, the property of rich celebrities looking for novelty in a world where they already have everything. The few ferals are killed pretty fast.

Or so everyone says.

Jake is starting to wonder if there are more vampires out there than he knows about.

The cops had even insisted on checking the attic, as if Chris was a bat they might find hanging upside down. That had been ridiculous, but it's not like Jake could say he knew better without being asked how he knew so much about them in the first place.

Oh, because we keep one like a stray fucking puppy. That wouldn't go over well.

He feels a little woozy from the adrenaline crash, and still aches from the bruised ribs where he was kicked around. His mouth aches from the duct tape they'd put over it, and he'd got a hell of a rash starting around his wrists. He's so exhausted he might collapse.

But... Chris really did show up right on time, and maybe saved his life.

Chris pulls Jake's wrist to his face, nuzzles into the inside of it against the pale blue veins that show through the thin skin. Jake shudders at the feeling, swallowing back a low-level disgust.

He wonders how old the teenager really is - he wonders that all the time.

"You c-can have my teeth, after," Chris whispers, lips moving against Jake's skin. "You can keep them. Sir used to, to, to keep them in a box and show m-me. Just, please, please help me feel better, Jake, please... It won't hurt."

Jake closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "If it'll help... fine. But I'm not taking your teeth. They're yours."

"Thank you," Chris breathes out. "That's, that's, that's okay. I can still fix it for you. Thank you, Jake." His fangs slip back into Jake's skin as easily as a heated knife through warm butter.

The venom hits his bloodstream before the pain hits his nerves, and Jake feels himself slump over, head falling onto Chris's shoulder as all his limbs go dead.

It almost feels good, as his ribs stop aching, and the bruises stop throbbing on his skin. He can see why rich people love it as a party drug. You could drift in this place of perfect no-pain for a long, long time.

He feels only the wet movement of Chris's tongue, the shift of his fangs, the soft pressure of the other teeth pushing down. Chris purrs softly, drinking his blood like a kitten lapping milk.

It goes on and on, and for one terrifying second Jake thinks he's not going to stop until he's dead.

"Ch-... Chris-"

Those fangs slip suddenly out of his skin, the wet cool tongue licks rough over his wounds - closing them instantly.

The venom slowly fades, the aches and pains settling back into his body. Jake groans, feeling weak and exhausted.

Chris has to push him up off his shoulder, with unnatural strength moving him to lay on his side on the bed. Jake can barely keep his eyes open.

Chris, leaning over him, could rip his throat out and he couldn't even raise a hand to try and defend himself right now. Jake sees the body of the first dead robber behind his eyelids, the expression of horror written in eternal rictus in his expression, the blood down his shirt and puddled beneath him on the floor. The other man, fighting until he stopped, slumping until Chris had drained him to death.

"I feel better," Chris whispers, kneading at Jake's shirt briefly. "I, I, I feel so much better. Go to, um, go to sleep, Jake. I'll fix it so you're safe."

Jake can't even begin to understand what that means before he's already slid into something more like unconsciousness than actual sleep. The world around him simply goes black, and the last thing he feels is Chris pulling a blanket up to his chin.

The last thing he hears is those soft padding footsteps leaving the room.

When he wakes, he finds two fangs, pristine white with bloodied roots, sitting in a washcloth next to where his head lays on the pillow. he finds a pair of small pliers on the bathroom sink, with droplets of red around them.

The sun is shining outside the window, a bird singing loud enough to drive a drillbit into his head, and Chris is curled up asleep in the dark at the back of a closet, mouth slightly open.

Jake stares down at the empty spots where his fangs should be, and wonders if he's grateful, or horrified.

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

His

Paring :: mafia dark!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings :: 18+, Smut/NSFW, Dark Themes, Possessiveness, Oral(M Recieving), Deep Throating

Word Count :: 2,787

Summary :: Bucky’s had a long day and you’re the only one he can release his stress on

A/N ::....there may or may not be another part... idk yet.... I just really like Mafia Bucky

Some days were better than others, for both you and Bucky. 

So far, your day had gone swimmingly. You woke up, did an easy morning stretch to help you wake up, and proceeded to clean around your house in your favorite sundress. There wasn’t much to do, with the house usually clean due to Bucky hiring professional cleaners to come once a week. Still, the dishes weren’t going to do themselves. 

The highlight of your day was a package being delivered. A book that you had pre-ordered from one of your favorite authors. After you cooked your lunch, you spent the rest of your day reading the book, sitting on the dark grey couch in your large living room. That was all you could do besides watching tv or doing a small hobby to keep you occupied until Bucky came home.

Bucky’s day, on the other hand, was infuriatingly long. He was a businessman and a mob boss, meaning he’d usually have long days. If he was lucky, he’d just have to deal with some idiot trying to cheat him. Today was an unlucky day. He received a visit from Helmut Zemo, the head of a Sokovian Mafia trying to start up in Brooklyn. 

-

Bucky sat at his desk, leaning back in his leather chair as he stared at the man who just entered his office. 

“I already told you the deal Zemo. There’s no bargaining, if you don’t like it save your breath and get the hell out of here.”

The Sokovian ignored him, walking over to a large bookshelf that was against the wall. “You know, for the most powerful man in Brooklyn, you’d be surprised how quickly some of your ‘people’ are willing to betray you if you offer them enough cash.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, a scowl forming on his face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Zemo glanced over for a moment. “The docks.”

A few nights prior, one of Bucky’s incoming shipments of illegal weapons had been robbed. A small number of men were killed, and the rest were injured. There was also a weird symbol that had been spray-painted around the docks, a sign that whoever had done this was publicly declaring war.

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he was now sitting up straight in his seat. “You did that?” “It was quite easy to.”

“So why the fuck are you here now? I could put a bullet through your head in a second.”

Zemo laughed, finally turning to face the other man. “You won’t because you know I’m not stupid enough to come here without just as many men you have.” He let out a small breath, taking a few steps forward. His gaze moved down to Bucky’s left hand, an eyebrow raising with curiosity. “You haven’t married her yet? She’s a lovely woman.”

In an instant Bucky stood up, his hands balled into fists. If a look could kill, Zemo would be dead and his body burning.

“I came to tell (Y/N) thank you. Not long ago, one of my guys got a bit lost and she helped him. Pietro said she was ‘the kindest girl he’d met’ and ‘extremely helpful and friendly.”

Bucky cursed in the back of his mind. It sounded exactly like something you’d do, you were kind and naive by nature, simply wanting to help people when they needed it. It was what drew him to you, and it seemed like it was attracting unwanted attention from others now.

“I’m gonna give you ten minutes to get the hell out of my territory.”

“Why so generous?”

“It’s a nice neighborhood,” Bucky replied sarcastically.

Zemo walked back towards the door, understanding he had pushed the man far enough. A coy smile crept on his face, looking at Bucky one last time. “I’d keep her better guarded and up to speed if I were you. She’s too innocent to be involved with you.”

Once Zemo and his men left Bucky nearly tore apart his office. It took Sam and Steve a good hour to calm the man down and make sure he didn’t do anything reckless. Once he cooled down, Sam revealed that Tony Stark had been the one to cross Bucky. Tony’s father was the previous big bad until Bucky came around.

-

“I don’t give a fuck what you do Steve, just make sure Tony doesn’t think he’s not get strung up on a tree after I shoot that Sokovian bastard in the head.” 

His voice was full of annoyance and his grip on the steering wheel of his car was so tight the whites of his knuckles were visible. It was one thing for Zemo to publicly humiliate his authority by robbing him, but he had indirectly threatened you by mentioning you to Bucky. You were his and his alone. He had invested far too much in securing you, ensuring that you’d never leave him. 

-

Bucky leaned on the doorframe of your apartment’s bedroom, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you step around the room. “What are you doing?”

“Going home,” You muttered, continuing to pack your suitcase.

“That’s on the other side of the country.”

“I know.”

“I can’t keep an eye on you if you’re in LA.”

You looked up from the clothes you were packing, glaring at him. “I know.”

Bucky let out a huff. “So you also know I can’t make sure you’re safe.”

You let out a dry laugh, eyes rolling. “I’ll probably be a lot safer once I’m far away from you.”

The man pushed himself off the door frame, now approaching you with long strides. “You’re not leaving (Y/N).”

You threw the shirt you hand in your hand down, turning to face him. “Yes, I am Bucky, because you lie to me!” Your voice was strained, eyes looking up at him full of pain.

“I didn’t lie to you-”

“Yes, you did! You lied to me about what you did and you hid the truth!”

When you and Bucky started dating, he told you he ran a large ‘supply and demand’ business in Brooklyn and that was it. Like the naive girl you were, who had just moved to the east coast, you believed him because you fell for him hard at first. He spoiled you and made you feel like a princess in public, and in private you helped him release all the pent-up stress he had built up from work. A few months later, you finally figured out why Bucky was always so protective of you and wanted to know where you were 24/7. 

Bucky could see the tears you were holding back, mentally cursing at himself for being the cause. He cupped your cheek with his normal hand. You had to resist the urge to lean into his hold.

“I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry, but…” His voice trailed off. In a swift motion, his metal hand wrapped around your waist lifting you up and over his shoulder. “You’re not leaving me (Y/N).”

“James Buchanan Barnes! Put me down this instant!” You slammed your fists into his back to no avail. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

“I love you too darling,” He mumbled, proceeding to walk you out of your apartment.

-

You were on the fourth chapter of your book when you heard a car door slam. You sprung up from your seat, moving as quickly as you could to greet Bucky at the front door. When you got there, you saw he had already let himself inside. His brows were knit together, looking down at the door’s locks.

“Why isn’t the door locked?” He questioned before he even saw you.

With the territorial instinct he had when it came to you and his meeting with Zemo earlier, it was clear he was not happy about such a small thing, no matter your excuse.

“Oh, I must’ve forgotten to lock it when I got the mail today,” You said quietly.

He had lectured you multiple times about how important it was you locked the door, even before you move in with him.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, properly greeting him with a smile like you did every day. You had done this so many times, you noticed how long it took for him to softly wrap a single arm around you before walking away. He was upset.

“Go to the bedroom and wait. Now,” He ordered.

Your heart started racing, wondering what was going to happen to you. If he had stress pent up, he would either wait until after dinner or start kissing you roughly the second he stepped in. He had only acted like this when you pushed him to his limit, like when you threatened to leave him or attempted to run away when he first forced you to live with him.

You sat at the edge of your shared bed, hands holding and fiddling with the hem of your dress. When Bucky was this angry, he was painfully rough to the point where you would begin crying. You quickly began thinking of everything you had done recently, wondering what could’ve pushed him to this point.

He walked in, jacket off and the sleeves to his white button-up rolled up to his elbows. Even though your mind was screaming with fear, your body started heating up with desire seeing him. Especially when your eyes glanced down to his pants and saw a hardness forming. ‘Fuck, he’s been thinking about this.’

Walking up to you, Bucky grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look up at him. As a sort of last-ditch effort to get some kindness from him, you gave him a doe-eyed look.

He leaned down, pressing a long kiss against your lips before pulling away. “Get on your knees.”

You took in a deep breath, accepting he wouldn’t be gentle. You pulled away from his cold metal hand, sinking down to stand before him on your knees. Keeping eye contact with him, you managed to under his brown leather belt and navy trousers. You looped your fingers at the hem of his pants, pulling them down along with his briefs just enough for his fully erect shaft to be freed. 

With both of your small hands wrapping around his shaft, you could feel yourself growing wet at the sound of his soft groan. At first, you started stroking his length slowly, leaning your face closer to lick the tip and swirl your tongue around the head.

Bucky didn’t allow you to continue this very long. Only a small dribble of precum was licked up before he grabbed a fist full of your hair from the back of your head and pushed himself further in. Another groan escaped him feeling the warmth of your mouth around his cock. He hit the back of your throat and you gagged, not yet ready for him to go deeper. He did it again two more times, warning you that he planned on having you take all of him in his mouth.

Your hands moved up to his thighs to hold yourself steady and you relaxed your throat the best you could in preparation. Once he started to push his dick further in, you could feel tears start to well up in your eyes as he went down your throat. You moaned each time he shoved his shaft down your throat, sending a soft vibration on his shaft.

Bucky eventually started thrusting his hips into your mouth, fully fucking your mouth as tears started to fall out of your eyes. Watching your glossy eyes stare up at him with his cock down your throat he nearly lost it, feeling his ballsack tighten. Not wanting to cum just yet, he pulled out, a string of your saliva falling off his dick and dribbling down your mouth. You gasped and began panting for air, wiping away your drool with the back of your hand.

He sat on the edge of the bed now, pulling your hips to stand in front of him once you stood up. “Off.”

You took off your dress, followed by your bra and wet panties. Already knowing what was going to happen, you moved to straddle his hips. You and Bucky had had sex numerous times before, but you always needed a moment to get used to his size. He wasn’t going to allow that.

With his large hands on your hips, he forced you down his entire dick, groaning at how tight your walls clenched around him.

“Bucky!” You cried out, body tingling as he filled you up, balls deep. 

He held your hips with such a strong grip you were sure there were going to be marks after. He bounced you up and down his cock, watching you with a dark gaze as you moaned and whimpered against him. Only he could make you feel like this, act like this for him.

He thrusted his hips up, and you moaned loudly, back arching as he hit a sweet sensitive spot. “Please!”

“Please, what?” Bucky asked, knowing full well what you wanted. He wanted you to beg.

“Fuck me right there Bucky! Please!”

More than happy to comply, he proceeded to slam into that same spot, your breath growing faster and cunt tighter each time it was hit. His breath was becoming heavy, and his movements ragged.

He watched as you looked down at him fucking you and saw you shudder. “Ah!” Your walls tightened and your release hit you, juices pouring out. Feeling you release triggered his own orgasm, releasing inside of you. You could feel spurt after spurt of hot cum filling you up and your tight cunt gladly took it.

He finally stopped bouncing you, rolling his hips into you and allowing you a few seconds of rest. He pulled his limp dick out but watching your pussy drip with a mixture of both your cum, he found himself hard once again. 

You barely had any time for your mind to clear up after, your eyes widening as Bucky forced you on your hands and knees. Not sparing a single second he rammed back into you, his hand smacking your ass hard. 

You let out a cry, the stinging pain from the spank only lasting for a short while before you felt the pain and pleasure of him filling you up again. 

“Tell me how much you love it,” He breathed out, watching your ass bounce against his hips with each thrust.

“Bucky!” You moaned out, your walls tightening around him again.

You barely had any time to recover from your last high and still sensitive. You started moving your ass against him, feeling his ballsack slapping your clit each time he thrusted. 

“I love it so much!” You breathed out. “I love feeling your big dick fill me up and fuck me!” 

You bit your lip, feeling the juices drip down your thighs. Your arms were starting to grow weak, barely able to hold yourself when you screamed again. Your pussy tightened and released, begging him to cum and fill you up again.

His large hands buried into your hips, continuing to fuck you as you released around him again. His build-up was growing with the sight of you taking his cock, thrusts growing sloppy. 

Bucky wasn’t blind and could tell your arms were going to give out. So, he released his grip on you with his metal arm to lean over you. He wrapped his arm around your chest, holding you up while squeezing your breast. 

Hearing your soft whimpers as he still fucked you did it for him, his hips bucking to release another hot load inside of you. He stayed in you until he finished then pulled out, releasing you to collapse on the bed. 

Weakly, you turned yourself on your back to look at him, face flushed and tear-stained. He lowered himself above you, metal arm pressed down near the side of your head to keep him above you. Bucky’s eyes danced over your facial features. His gaze moved down, watching your chest rise with each pant before looking at the mess in between your legs.

With his other hand, he reached down and dragged two fingers up your wet folds, gathering the juices on them. When he raised them back up to your face, both of your hands grabbed him and began to suck and lick his fingers clean.

“Christ you’re fucking beautiful.”

He pulled his fingers away, smashing his lips against yours. You wrapped your hands around his neck, a hand moving up to play and tug on his hair as you kissed.

[midearthwritings]

The Beauty behind the Beast

You think it is a shame to neglect such beautiful hair.

Words Count : 1,745

Pairing : Kíli & Reader

Warning : Nudity? Blink and you'll miss it really.

Author's Note : A little Kíli one shot because who wouldn't want to sit and care for his hair? Also I labelled this as platonic but there are a few romantic undertones. I don't know. Hope you like it.

What evil creatures were hiding in the dark, stalking and waiting to attack? You did not know. Perhaps none for the night was quiet, beautiful even. The sky was clear, filled with stars. And the moon looked stunning, even as only half of it was visible.

The snoring of your companions sounded like a lullaby. They could have made you fall asleep if you had been willing to surrender. Thankfully, you were in good company.

As he was quietly rambling to you about whatever subject, you studied him. The way he worked on that little piece of wood. The way his eyes would lit up when he got to an interesting part. And the disaster that was his hair.

Absentmindedly, you raised your hand to touch them. They were soft, but very thick due to their current state. You even tried to brush them a little with your hand, your fingertips getting stucked immediately.

"I thought hair were important to dwarves." You said, letting the strand slip from your fingers to fall back on his shoulder. Your eyes travelled up his mane, spotting every knot tangling them.

"Aye, they are." The agressive sound of his knife on the piece of wood he was carving was regular, almost soothing. His brows were furrowed, and all his focus was on his task. You smiled. It was a rare thing to see the prince this serious. It almost felt like an honor.

Scooting closer, you reached out again to tuck his hair behind his ear. "Why is it that you do not care for them, then?"

The words seemed to pique his interest as he turned his face to you. The object he was crafting now forgotten, dangling from his hand. And you were sure that it would fall to the ground at any given moment. Slightly, he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. The gentle night wind blew, making his bangs wiggle a little. Perhaps the only part of his mane that was not a complete mess.

"I care for them." With that, he faced away from you so you were able to see the back of his head. He reached out and tapped on the clasp stuck in there, his blade too close to the area for your liking. "See, this is proof of what I say."

Shaking your head, you batted his hand away. "You can put a dress on an Orc if you desire so, but it will remain an Orc. This, is a bird's nest." You explained, gently grabbing a fistful of hair to prove your point. "And I am being very polite here because I have seen nests that looked way much better."

The shrug he gave you was very unusual, you thought. You had been expecting a comment, a snarl in the very least. But surely not silence as he went back to work, the dark locks freeing themselves from your grip.

The case was not lost. Really, all he needed was to comb his hair, and perhaps shorten it a little to get rid of the tougher knots. After that, they would look perfect, very flattering around his pretty face. Maybe he would even be able to wear braids too, like the others.

"I could help, you know." You offered with a smile. "Get them nice again."

"No, you cannot."

The words were sharp, almost as sharp as the knife he was holding. They could have upset you, had you been a few weeks back. Thankfully, you knew better than to get yourself worked up because of a simple no. Before you could question his negative response, he carried on. "Dwarves do not let anyone touch their hair besides their family, or their One. Anyone else is not allowed."

Dwarven customs. You had heard of those before. Not in details, and you would not be able to write a book on the matter. They were very different from those of humans and this was something new. For a moment, you thought to a few minutes back, of the offense you might have done to him. But you brushed the idea away. He would have told you if he had been offended in any way.

Biting your bottom lip, a grin curved your mouth upwards.

"But we are family. You are my brother in arms, aren't you? And a brother means family, doesn't it? Besides, if you keep neglecting them, you will have to chop all of it to get rid of the knots. You should accept my help."

Quiet, you watched as his brows furrowed again as he considered your words. You noticed how the gesture was slightly different from when he was focused.

When he looked back up at you, you were certain he was going to say no again. If he did so, you would drop the subject, for now. Yet, his nod surprised you.

"Aye, I accept. Only because if it is not you who does it, it will be Fíli. And he is not gentle with me when he combs my hair. Always hurts me and tells me to stop being a whiny dwarfling. This little piece of-"

With an exasperated sigh, you brought your palm to his mouth, silencing the curse that was to come.

Siblings.

It had been agreed that you would get to it when the company would stop to bathe and rest. It took you all a few days to find a nice place to allow yourselves such luxury. The camp was set in no time, as it was now a habit, and you watched as the dwarves, and your burglar friend, departed to get into the water.

Kíli, like the child he was, began to follow them nonchalantly, in an almost too innocent way. Quickly grabbing what you needed, for your own cleaning and his hair's, you caught up to him and hooked your arm with his.

"Now, do not run away from me. We are going to find a spot and get to work."

A long groan escaped his lips, making you chuckle. It reminded you of home, of your younger siblings, and for a short moment, you allowed yourself to miss it. To miss the comfort of your bed, and the play times with the children. You missed your mother greatly as well, and you wondered if, perhaps, you would be lucky enough to see her ever again.

You shook your head, chasing the pain away before it could reach your heart. Looking around, you noticed you had walked far enough from the others.

"Alright, this will do. Undress and get into the water. It will be easier." You commanded, getting rid of your own garments.

"Oy, you could at least offer me a nice meal first!" His laugh echoed around you, and despite the glare you shot him, you found yourself laughing as well.

The water felt nice against your skin. It was a bit cold at first but very pleasant once your body was used to it. You turned around and moved to get behind the prince.

"I am going to wash them first, all right?" You warned. When he nodded, you opened the small bottle that you were holding securely in your hand and poured some of the sweet scented oil into his hair. Now that they were wet, the knots felt rough under your fingers as you rubbed the entirety of his mane with the oil. You started from the top of his head, massaging a scalp with your fingers. The satisfied moan coming from him indicating that the experience was not that painful so far. You went to rub the hair behind his ears, and under them at the base of his neck. And finally, you spread the liquid on the rest of it.

"Get under the surface to rinse it." You ordered. While he did so, you swapped the tiny, and now half empty, bottle with a fancy looking comb.

"Why did you pack such things to travel?"

"I did not." You answered, getting back behind him. He was fairly tall for a dwarf, you thought, but it was not a bad thing. Not to you. You had heard the mockeries and teasing of others regarding his height and lack of beard. He was not fitting dwarves standards, that was a fact. But he was not unattractive. Fools were those who rejected the prince, in your opinion.

Stirring out of your reveries, you added "I took them before we left Rivendell. They had many of those. They will not miss the ones I kept." You brought the comb up, starting with the end of his hair. Carefully, not to hurt him, you worked on the knots.

"That is theft." He pointed out. While you were busy in his back, Kíli was rubbing his forearms with a bar of soap. You raised your eyebrow.

"And where do you think that thing you are using comes from?" You asked, working your way up with the comb. "Besides, Bilbo is a burglar and no one says a thing about it."

The dwarf reached behind him to tap your hip gently and you stepped back a little, allowing him to go under the water again to rinse the soap from his body. Soon enough, you were both back into place.

"It is not the same." He started again. "Bilbo is going to help us regain Erebor with his burglarities."

"Kíli, burglarities is not a word.". You had been right. With his hair being wet, it was easier to get them untangled. The comb was now sliding freely in his strands. Only the top remained and you would be done with the task.

"Aye, but it could be."

Shaking your head, you did not reply, focusing rather on not tugging too hard rather than his nonsense.

The last knot was a tough one and it took you a bit longer to win your fight against it. But you managed, and in the end, the finished result was stunning. His hair looked darker, glistening with water, and they looked even longer now.

"Here, I'm done."

With a soft smile, you watched your friend as he ran he fingers into his now really soft locks. He turned to face you, a smile similar to yours painted on his lips. When he held his hand out, you tilted your head, questioningly. The request that followed was soft, and innocent, yet, you felt your heart swelling.

"Now, may I take care of yours?"

[muffindaddystyles]

Request: Could u do one where y/n is a stripper but her and Harry are already together. So Harry and his friends all know y/n works at the strip club because she’s Harry girl and they all go up there and she gives him a lap dance?? Idk I just need something dirty😂✋🏽

Disclaimer: Public infatuation, spitting and teasing.

//

Do you ever see shit crumbling down infront of your eyes and said, "fuck it." before taking the step that could have a ominous impact on your life? Perhaps Y/N did the same. When she couldn't pay for her UNI she started working at a club as a waitress, scrubbing the awful stickiness of beers and alchol wasn't a nightmare for her at least.

She always admired the girls outdoing themselves on stage, something so fascinating about having men on the tip of their shoes and emptying their pockets just to have a watch of mere skin.

One night when the clock striked past 2 am and the club had barely three people her friend ushered her on the stage, it wasn't sexy and eroticaly mind blogging. She was trying to have fun (she's very socially akward and have a stage phobia). Rather, cute as she danced in her pink skirts and showy apron not caring when her headband slid down as she spinned around the pole with loud giggles.

What took her gasp away was a beautiful man sitting in the corner dimmed away from the bashing lights of the room. Hand adorned in gems and jewels wrapped around the crystal glass of beer as he sat man-spreading in a black suit, a white shirt underneath that gives the glimpse of his tattoos and an evident smirk of ferver for her that made her tummy scorch.

"Y/N!" The bartender shouted for her, "Take this order for the table 22, quick." She tumbles down two stairs hastily and it takes out a chuckle from his lips, his eyes following her constantly. The glass of another bevy is for none other than the man with emarld eyes and chocolate curls.

She approaches him with a bicker between her mind and heart to shut the fuck up, as she slides the glass infront of him without glancing up at him.

"Y'dance gorgeously." His voice sultry and so so supple she couldn't belive it came out from him. "Uhm thank you . . . but 'm not what you're thinking 'm." She fumbles with her apron back treating slowly and he raises his brows not in amusement but in acknowledgement puffering out his bottom red lip she oh so gonna think about whole night.

"Doesn't matter, eh." She nods, "like somethin' else?" Her smile. Harry think her smile lit up his previous grumpy mood and his eyes falls over her shoes, he didn't like that they were literally about to thread into patches.

"Nope. Jus' headin' out, take care, love." Fuck him. There's no way she wouldn't imagine about him, being there in her dainty loft.

He left a bunch of cash as her tip and it made her all blushy.

//

Their next encounter was rather funny. Bumping into eachother at a grocery shop and her collection of junk food, cans of sweet sodas and candies went flying infront of him making her feel giddy that what he'd think about him? A child of five ready to go back to school?

His apologies were cut short when he sees it's her and his eyes went glowy. She's completely a different person when not under the blazing lights, so soft and clean wearing a cream coloured sweater, curdoury lilac pants and spectacles perched atop her bunny nose.

Him in a rolling stones tee and slacks.

"Y'alright, there?" He asks her with a brush to her elbow and she nods, "oh, Mr. Gucci pants?" That was the point where their love story started not a clićhe one but Harry's head over heels for her to this day. She calls him Gucci pants to annoy him cause his trousers that had a visible gucci label on the hem of them.

Then after few months of them hanging out and their first kiss she got to know that he's the owner of the club she fucking works at. She didn't know what to do, is that okay to date something out of your status and league? Even boss? She ghosted him for weeks and realized that how much she missed him. His thoughts didn't seem to leave her mind at all, his lips and kisses.

They've a most healthy relationship, he doesn't stop her from working at club as a waitress neither does he feels remorseful when she gets angry for paying her extra replying with cheekiness, "can't wait to have our bank accounts together, i like to give y'me lovin' sweet bug."

Their sex life's a proper satisfaction for both of them, Harry's such a caring domineering to her and it makes her cry sometimes when she floats into her sub-space. She loves to have him inside her after rough nights and to have sex in the morning getting sticky due to him hardening while still inside her.

She's public shy so they never try anything outside (harry respects her boundaries and gives her space whenever she needs some) but giving him a blowjob in his car doesn't seem that scary, does it? And the fact she loves to keep him warm and wet in her mouth everytime. He exposed her to the world of sex toys and how to use them, she was hesitant in the start but now loves to play with herself while he caresses his cock infront of her.

She hates being tied up! Always wants to touch him and feel his velvety skin. He ties up when she's being a bad puppy.

She loves when he fucks her from behind on her knees studying and sometimes she likes him harsh too, to be pounded raw, it makes her panties soak with yearn to have him.

But, in general he's all pet names and kisses. Gifting her silks and making her matchas. Cuddles and hugs from behind. Though, he likes to be a small spoon with his face tucked between her squishy tits and likes to have back rubs by her when the work gets a load on him.

Today though she'd like to come out of her cocoon and do something bold to show him that she wanna put the same effort to turn him on as he does. She doesn't know that her only presence stiffens his dick.

Harry was along his friends in his usual spot away from the bustling crowd when the patter of heels distracted them making their heads perk up, "would you guys like something?" She asks them and Nialler who's already miffed bad hiccups, "another bevy fo' me." She rolls her eyes at him sticking her tongue out.

"Then fetch one for yourself." While they bickered Harry admired his girl. The curve of her peach and her fleshy thighs, the stocking she's wearing doing nothing to satiate his burn to fuck her right now on these tables infront of everyone. "Anddd what'd you like to 've, Sir." She dips her knee between his thighs near his crotch whispering sultry-ly in his ear and pressing her wet lips against his earlobe on purpose.

"You." He smiles bashfully running his hands under her skirt and thighs giving it lil smack making her squeal softly, "'m all yours to take." She smooches a kiss to his mouth and presses her panties clad cunt against his man-spread moaning subtly when he groped her ass to assist her in humping him.

"Get a room you guys!!" Their friends hollered and Harry was quick to take Y/N's hand leading her to a private room, "On the sofa legs spread fo' me." She doesn't listen to him and pushes him down instead crawling up his lap.

"No." She tries to use the most intimidating voice, "what? You sound like a kitten, baby." He teases her letting his fingers linger over her garter and she hisses when he snaps it. She pins his wrists between them telling him grumpy-ly, "I - said - no." Her neck stretches giving Harry more skin to plant kisses as she brought his hand to cup them against her pussy.

"Wanna fuck me 'n d'the dirty work yourself? Go on then." He murmures grazing her collarbones with his teeth and palms her chest, stroking the perked nipple again and again to make her wet than she already's. Except of undressing him herself she orders him because she's too far gone to do anything other than have his cock pounding inside her, "Undress." When he does so she wraps her hand around his huge prick and taps his cherry lips with her fingers.

Pulling at his foreskin for some time and coating it perfectly with his own pre-come she sides her panties with shaky fingers and sinks down on him completely, she loves this position. In this way he feels too big inside her, deep to her tummy and could embrace eachother cosily.

"This's what you wanted? To fuck yourself with me prick, to keep it forever inside you?" He grabs her from sides helping her ride him and she hugs his shoulders whimpering with each languid stroke of his thickness against her spongy walls, "yes, yes, yes." His balls slaps against her bum and she squeezes around him with a cry.

He tuts in a mean voice, "Look how 've turned me sweet innocent Y/N into a filthy girl whose cunt's always drippin' with me cum." Her hairline beads with sweat and she muffles her moans by bitting him, he yanks her.

"Let everybody listen how hard ye're bein' pounded." He growls spanking her ass to a plump redness, groping her asscheeks to push harder and it makes her squirt around him.

"More, more, please more." She says in a soft hoarseness thighs quaking around his waist from exhaustion and he chuckles kissing her temple rolling her sensitive clit with the pad of thumb to make her cum, "oh! Harry — " This time she moans without holding back and when she doesn't stop moving Harry takes the hint.

"Bug you're gettin' tired." He flips them. Pressing her thigh against the back of couch with a tight grip of his hands around, so tight it'll leave imprints. Looking down a whimper slips from his throat at the sight of her widely spread for him and her pussy lips wrapped around his rock hard cock, though the sofa is already ruined with their wetness he spits where they're connected.

The dirty, sloppy wet noises of them turns him on so bad and he laps at her nipples like a kitten would do drilling inside her vigorously it makes her gasp in pleasure, moan and cry his name.

She rakes her nails down his spine when he grinds down at her in rough circles, "I'm gonna cum." She cries out cramping around him and their bones rattles with each pound she receives from him.

"Come fo' me darlin', gonna count to three — " He caresses her jaw, kissing her again and again face expression bundling up with the wave of pleasure that's about fluid over him as she thrashes under him, head on the sofa and torso stretching out, "fuck, fuck, fuck." He mutters unloading inside of her in sticky white ribbons that spill out of her because he came alot.

Taking a breather they untangle themselves a little and she whispers snuggling into his neck, "might think we could crash at this sofa tonight." Wrapping her calves around him like a koala.

"But, 'm hungry too." She giggles when her stomach grugled angrily.

"Let's clean up and get fish 'n chips from the next shop." He pets her head.

"Amazing!" She chirps.

//

[moralesispunk]

Din Djarin NSFW Alphabet

This is the first of my NSFW/SFW Alphabet series! Content will be under continue reading as NSFW content (this is from comments by @ginger-swag-rapunzel and @academiacrypt)

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex)

The fact that there was so much pining and yearning after one another before you and Din do have sex, aftercare is something that is in his second nature. He has never been big on it before - him and any previous partners just taking care of themselves - but he will care about you. 

He will like to clean you up with his mouth and if its after a rough quickie he will tell you to keep your eyes closed for a moment longer to give you a soft kiss. If its after a time where you are in no rush, he will hold you close to his chest and love the feeling of you falling asleep in his arms after, placing gentle kisses to your head.

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part on themselves / on their partner)

He never really thought of his favourite part of his body but if he had to answer he would probably say his arms or his hands. They make his job easy. Also, when his hands are on your body his size kink really comes into play when he notices just how small you look underneath his hands as they take over the whole length of your side.

His favourite part of you, if he really had to choose, would be your thighs. He loves spending hours between them, gripping them tight and moving to bite and suck on them. He loves letting his hand rest on them when you are outside of the Crest or the way they hang over his own when you sit on his lap in the Crest. In a close second are your hands. They are small and soft and gentle and no one has ever held him as carefully as you do with your hands.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum - I am a disgusting person)

It is no secret that this man has a breeding kink (whether that is actually wanting you to have his warriors or just the thought of it) so cum-play will be something he is in to. He will like to watch it come out of you before pushing it back inside and when he is feeling especially dirty (after the two of you have a quickie outside the cantina) he will tell you to stay like that for the rest of the day.

D = Dirty Secret (What do they secretly want)

He never really thought he had any particular dirty secrets until he realised two fantasies that he wants to try with you. The first is hunter/prey and he realised this that time he was teaching you how to fight and you looked to perfect trapped under his arms. The second is pretending you are inexperienced and he has to show you what to do and this is relating to that size kink we spoke about a moment before.

He will be quite nervous to bring these up to you and he will most likely mumble it to you while he babbles away during sex. When you bring it up after he will shy away from it a little but he if you’re comfortable with it then it’s definitely something he will think about making a move on.

E = Experience (Do they know what they are doing?)

He has experience in the sense that in his younger years he had quickies when the need came but he is not experienced with the more intimate side. He wants to spend hours between your legs learning what works for you and learning how your body reacts to his touch. With Din its about something new for him - intimacy - and it will be something new for you too. 

F = Favourite Position (Self explanatory)

Din will love taking you from behind, especially doggy. It does make it easier because you do not have to struggle with keeping your eyes closed the whole time but he loves watching himself push into you while he grips tightly at your thighs. He also loves the obscene moans that leave your mouth as he does so.

When he wants to see you fall apart he will have you underneath him as he sits back on his heels, your legs bent to your chest. Your eyes will be closed but he will love to watch the way your eyebrows furrow the closer you get before your mouth hangs open when you finally reach your peak.

Once he shows his face to you he will still love this but will enjoy missionary, resting his forehead against yours so he can look deep in your eyes. The first time he can do this there will be tears in his eyes from you looking into one another’s eyes for the first time.

G = Goofy (Are they serious during sex or goofy?)

All in all, Din will be serious. He can be sarcastic, like he is most of the time and sometimes funny things happen during sex - bumping heads or funny noises - but Din will quickly move on for that, stopping your giggle with a moans when he thrusts that wee bit deeper.

H = Hair (Are they well groomed?)

It wasn’t really something he thought much of until he met you. He didn’t know why he was taking time to comb his hair a little more or trim in the shower (he is hidden under layers of armour) but he is thankful for it the first time you have sex. There is hair there and it is definitely on the natural side but its tidy.

He doesn’t mind what you are like as look as you’re happy.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment?)

Very. Maybe not in a way you think intimacy shows itself. Its not all roses on bed sheets and candles but its the closeness. He physically cannot hold you any closer to his body and at some points you’re not even sure where you end and he begins. Din will also admit most of his feelings in this moment when his mind is cloudy with thoughts of only you. He will kiss into your skin how much he loves and cares for you and what lengths he would go to to protect you from the world.

J = Jack Off (Do they masturbate?)

Din has needs, so yes. Not as much now you are staying on the Crest with him and he would much rather have your hand or mouth around him than his hand. When the need hits and you’re not there then yes, he will but he will be thinking about you and how pretty you would look on your knees in front of him in the refresher right now.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Din has a lot and they come into play most of the time (if you’re okay with it). Size kink and innocence - because you look so small and sweet underneath him. Cum play - because the thought of you carrying his child sends him absolutely feral. Hunter/prey - because of what I said earlier he would love to know your heart is racing as he follows you through a forest. He is also a bit of an exhibitionist - making you cum under the table in the cantina as he tells you to be quiet.

L = Location (Favourite place to do it)

Anywhere to be honest. You and Din have had sex everywhere on the Crest. In the pilots seat. In the bunk. Against the wall of the Crest when you first walk in before the door has even shut completely. The cantina. A back alley. Anywhere and everywhere.

M = Motivation (What turns them on or gets them going?)

You. You doing anything. He loves watching you as you play with the Kid, thinking about how great a mother to his children you would be. He loves watching you walk around the Crest with short shorts so he can see your thighs and the marks he has left all over them. When you are out of the Crest he loves how close you stay to his side as you walk through the busy streets and how the mark he intentionally left on a visible part of your neck has stopped anyone from making any rude comments to you. Any time he looks at you, thoughts of what he wants to do to you are there in his mind.

N = No (Something they will not do. Turn offs.)

Din will be up for most things but he wont want to hurt you. He does enjoy biting or sucking on your skin but anything that will cause actual pain is a no go. He is also not a massive fan of being tied up. He will try it if you ask but will find it almost too frustrating.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skills, etc.)

Din is a giver. He loves to watch you squirm under him as he coaxes another orgasm from you while he holds your thighs open with his shoulders and your body down with an arm slung over your tummy. He will hold your hand while rubbing circles on your side, telling you how good you are being for him.

But he also loves watching you on your knees for him, especially when he gets to hear you gag against his cock with tears pulling at the corner of your eyes. He will definitely be sarcastic as shit and maybe even a little patronising but he will hold your face gently in his hand as he does so.

P = Pace (Are they fast or rough? Or slow and sensual?)

It depends on the situation. Din can do both and he does them well. When he needs to take his frustrations out it will be fast and rough (but he wont hurt you). When he wants to show how much he loves you but can’t find the words it will be slow and loving.

Q = Quickies (Their opinions on quickies rather than regular sex)

When he needs to but there isn’t a lot of time then quickies are the answer but he would rather spend hours between your legs first if he had the chance. He will never leave you unsatisfied UNLESS he is teasing you and will make sure to make up for it by making you cum more times than you can count when you’re back on the Crest.

R = Risk (Are they open to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He is open to experiment and loves how much you trust him. He wants to look into those kinks he has thought about with you - Hunter/prey, choking, cockwarming, etc. and you will try them all but he doesn't want to do anything that would hurt you too much. Choking, light biting, sucking he is all for but nothing further than that.

Unless we are talking about a dark! Mando AU and he will be open to even more risk...

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go? How long do they last?)

This depends on the situation. A post-bounty stress relief will be short but rough. Not unsatisfyingly short but not as long as the hours he can go when you are both flying in hyperspace. 

He can go around 2 rounds in a row but he can drag them out till you don't know anything other than him and forget your own name.

T = Toys (Do they own or use toys on themselves or partners?)

He had heard of them being used but never before tried them himself. At first, he isn't sure about them when you bring them up as he would much rather watch you fall apart under his own touch. However, when you let him watch you use a toy on yourself his interest will be peaked. When he does use them on you though expect his mouth and fingers to be involved too.

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease?)

Din would tease you 24 hours of the day 7 days a week if he could. Sometimes, when he comes back from a bounty and just wants a release, there won't be any teasing because he can't control himself. But I'm hyperspace with nothing else to do? He will have you on edge for hours. He does not like to be teased though. If you tease him even a little expect to be flipped over and ruined.

V = Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

Din isn't loud but he is constant. He will moan quietly in your ear just for you to hear but he will babble non-stop, telling you how good you are being for him and that this is for walking around the Crest all day in nothing but your tiny shorts and shirts and he just wants to make you feel good. While he isn't that loud he wants you to be. He will ask you to use your words and will want to hear every moan and groan to leave your mouth. When he first hears you moan Din rather than Mando prepare for him to absolutely lose it.

W = Wildcard (Random headcannon for your character)

The first time Din tells you he wants you to be his riddur will be during sex. He will be looking down at you and see you so perfect laid out below him and he knows he never wants to live a life without you. The words fall out his mouth before he can even stop them and it will be a while before he brings it up properly again.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Listen, we all know Din is packing and he knows it. A good 8/9 inches and thick as well. When you are on your knees and he can see you struggling to take him that will get him going. Expect to hear him smugly ask if you're okay and tell you you're doing so good for him.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Very high. Din has to be away for days at a time for bounties so when he is back to the safety of the Crest he wants nothing other than your two bodies to be tangled together. He isn’t as young as he used to be so while he can’t go as many rounds he can make them last long enough to make sure both your needs are satisfied and then some.

Z = ZZZ (How quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?)

Din is not big on the sleeping thing. He has naps to keep him going but rarely a full nights sleep. After sex however, with you asleep in his arms he wont be long behind you and he will have a longer and deeper sleep than he has ever had before.

//

Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179

[sabababa]

Hey! Can you do the 2 part to "They get hit by a quirk that makes them live their greatest fear headcanons" but with hawks, dabi and todoroki, please? Thank you!

Hawks get hits by a quirk that makes him live his greatest fear

Hawks x GenderNeutral!Reader

Author’s note: I know you noticed that I don’t write for these guys, but I have been debating on writing for Hawks anyway (Dabi and Shoto have never caught my eye) and I only watch the anime, so can no one please give me manga spoilers, I already got spoiled about the latest chapter lmao Bro, this got so dark and sad and HAWKS BB I’M SORRY-

Part 1: Izuku, Katsuki, Mirio, and Aizawa

Warnings: Angst (Fluff ending), domestic abuse, mental abuse, some suggestive themes, cursing, body mutilation (feather pulling)

Hawks

You abuse him

Hawks had just apprehended some low-level thug when, what he assumed was, a pedestrian bumped into him

The world went dark before he regained his sight again

Since he was still on edge from earlier he whipped around to find the person but saw no one there

Come to think of it, no one was around and it was night already

His feathers twitched out of instinct at feeling something wasn’t right

And his first thought was to go check on you

He flew back to your shared apartment and landed on the balcony before sliding the door open

His eyes darted around the room and saw you sitting on the couch

Wearing one of his shirts

And some racy panties

His wings released the tension they held and instead puffed themselves up to appear bigger

Some old bird instinct to attract you

You leaned against the arm of the couch and did a ‘come here’ motion with your finger

He had a seductive look on his face as he stalked towards you

“Whatcha’ wearin’, lovebird?” He cooed

“Come find out, birdy,” You purred

He climbed on top of you and trapped your lips in a deep kiss as your hands snaked their way up his chest, it sent a shiver up his spine and to his wings

Then, he felt you flip them off the couch, to where he was on the bottom

He let out a yelp from the sudden force as he fell awkwardly onto his wings

“B-be careful, lovebird,” he groaned out, but tried to keep the mood going

Maybe you were wanting it to be a little rough and he could oblige to that

And then he felt a sharp bite at the spot where his neck and shoulder met, just above the collarbone

“AH! L-lovebird!” He winced, but smirked. “Gettin’ a little rough are we- OW!”

You broke skin and he could feel some blood trickle down his flesh and onto his wings

He had to admit, even though the bite hurt like hell, he was kinda turned on that you were marking him so aggressively

“Lovebird, as hot as that was, could you be a little gentl-AAHH!” He was cut off by his own scream as you ripped some feathers out. “NO, that’s it! I’ve had enou-AH!” He tried to push you off, but you pulled more feathers out

“Quit being a baby,” you grunted, looking annoyed

“Get off me!” His voice felt weak as he yelled. It wasn’t filled with anger, but with fear

He managed to crawl out from under you and stand up above you, his wings fanned out to intimidate you, but you weren’t some stupid bird who would fall for an act like that

You sighed and stood up too. “Jeez, you’re so sensitive! I’m just having a little fun!” You kicked him between the legs at the end

As he was doubling over, you brought your knee up to connect with his face and he fell backward instead. His visor had cracked upon the impact

He curled into a ball as he felt blood leave his nose, it felt broken too

Different types of pain were appearing all over his body as he curled tighter into himself, using his wings as a shield

“You’re so weak! I thought you were a hero!” You growled as you pulled more feathers out

He screamed in pain and scrabbled away from you, ending up hitting a wall

“Fight back if you’re so strong!” You yelled down at him as you loomed over threateningly

But he couldn’t fight back, he didn’t want to use his feathers against you. They were meant to protect you, not harm you

Maybe I deserve this? He thought

“You’re not a hero! You’re just some stupid kid who thought he could make a difference!” You couched in front of him and yanked his hair back

He whimpered and felt tears in his eyes as a sob threatened to escape his throat, but he swallowed it back down as he spoke out. “Y-you’re right,  I’m sorry!” He sniveled

I’m just a stupid kid

You tugged his hair down so his face would connect with the hardwood floor, breaking part of the visor

Pain from his broken nose surged through him as he finally let out a sob

“Sorry won’t do shit!” You yelled. “You’re so fucking pathetic! Sniveling and crying all bloodied on a floor!” You ground his face harder to the ground. He let out a wail. “What would you do if I were a villain?! You’d just take it and give up, wouldn’t you?!”

I’m so pathetic

“Tch,” you finally released him from your hold and the pressure on his nose went away. “You’re not a hero and you’re not worth my time.”

His eyes closed as he sobbed into the floor

I’m not worthy, I’m not worthy, “I’m not worthy, I’m not worthy,”

“Hawks?” Your voice was gentler this time as you spoke, it cracked even

He squinted an eye open as he stared up at you

The aura was different, the world was different

He stared at you through the yellow tint of his visor, which was somehow repaired

Your clothes were different. You were in your work clothes, the house keys still in your hand like you had just gotten home. You had a tearful look in your eyes as you stared down at him

“Hawks?” You squeaked out again and dropped to his level

He pushed himself up to sit on his knees and noticed all the pain was gone. His nose wasn’t broken, his feathers were still in place, and the bite was gone

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw your hand reach out to him and he flinched back harshly, his back hitting the wall as he gave you a fearful and questioning look, his breathing picked up as he was too afraid to speak

Your hand immediately pulled back from his sudden movements

You hated how scared he looked

“Hawks, what’s wrong?” You pleaded with him

His breathing slowed slightly when the changes were starting to set in

He guessed it was some villain quirk that got used on him, or something

But he couldn’t stop the fear he still felt as he stared at you

You reached your hand out again, seeing that he calmed down slightly

“DON’T-” He yelped at first and held a hand out to stop you. He swallowed thickly when he noticed that you pulled back again. “Just- Just don’t touch me,” his voice wavered as he pulled his knees to his chest. “I need a minute.”

“Okay,” you whispered and left him alone in the living room and went to the bedroom

You changed out of your work clothes and slipped into one of the shirts he had given you to use. You sat on your side of the bed as you worried about what Hawks went through. Did he have a bad villain attack? Maybe it was some PTSD you didn’t know about? Whatever it was, he looked so frightened

You heard his boots trudge down the hallway and saw his form was slouched against the doorway

He looked up at you and his droopy eyes widened at seeing you

What did you do now? 

“Hawks? What is it?”

He let a shiver visibly pass through him as his body shook and puffed his wings up, before flattening the feathers again

He slowly made his way over to his side of the bed, taking off his headset, visor, and boots, before leaning back against the headboard with a sigh. He stared at the ceiling for a while in silence and you decided it would be best for him to speak when he was ready

You heard him sigh and you looked over at him, he hadn’t moved

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” he turned his head to look at you, “right?”

“Of course I wouldn’t, I love you!” You inched closer to him, just wanting to be in his arms or to at least hold him

He stared at you for what felt like forever before a sob escaped his lips and tears fell from his eyes, he brought a hand up to cover his mouth and hunched over on the bed as he continued to cry

You gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder and he stiffened as his crying stopped

But then he flung himself at your lap and wrapped his arms around your waist as he bawled

You clung to him as you rubbed a soothing line between his wings along his back

Eventually, his sobs stopped and he turned his body to face you fully

You brushed back a strand of his hair from his eyes and gently wiped away the tear stains against his cheek

He sniffled as you cleaned his face and brought a hand up to press your palm against his cheek, making you look at him

“Am I worthy?” He asked

“Of what?” You asked confused

“Of you.”

You leaned back slightly from the question, wondering what could have caused him to act like this, but you leaned forward again to place a kiss on his lips

When you pulled away he tried to chase after your lips with his own, but got too far

You laughed lightly and ran your fingers through his hair

“Of course, birdy, you’re worth so much more than you know,” you leaned down to give him another kiss. “Will you tell me what happened?” Your lips hovered over his

“I will in the morning, but right now” he placed a hand behind your head, “I just want you to love me.” He pressed your lips together in a passionate kiss

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you want to request some headcanons please go here for the rules!

Masterlist

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(Clone Wars) ARC Trooper Echo x Reader: Sightseeing PART 2

(Requested by the amazing @nahoney22

I hope you likez!!!!

Warnings: some kissy kissy

Word Count: 2,146)

Link to Part 1

   You wrenched the final bolt in, teeth clenched with the effort.  Despite the quick thrum of your heart at the set of boots that were visible from beneath the ship, you kept your focus on the work in front of you.  Finally, the bolt would not screw in any father, and you set the wrench down with a loud clang.

   Swiping the back of your hand across your forehead, you sighed and began to climb out from under the vehicle.  The bright lights of the hangar made you squint, though a silhouette stepped into view.  Those boots you saw before were a few feet from your head.

   The man knelt down, extending his gloved hand in your direction.  You smiled as you took it, and he hauled you to your feet in an effortless motion.  Suddenly, you felt a little self-conscious in your dirtied jumpsuit with grease smeared on your skin.  You avoided his gaze as you brushed off what you could from your jumpsuit.

   “All done?” Echo finally spoke, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

   You finally met his eyes.  It was hard to feel self-conscious when he was looking at you with tender adoration.  One would think you were wearing the most elegant gown with the way his eyes glinted.

   “All done,” you said.  “Thank you for waiting.  You didn’t have to, you know.  You could’ve gone ahead to see the town.”

   Echo shrugged his armored shoulders.  It was so casual, like it was no big deal that he stood in the hangar for forty-five minutes waiting for your shift to end.  He didn’t have a whole lot of time off as an ARC trooper, and you didn’t want him to miss out because of you.  “It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

   A smile crept onto your features.  There were times when he couldn’t formulate a sentence in front of you, and other times when he could be so smooth and so sweet.  You knew it came from a genuine place and not from someone looking to score a date.  Besides, it had been several months since your meeting, and he still hadn’t officially asked you out.  It became a tradition for the two of you to go sightseeing on the planets you came across, but nothing had been said about them being dates.

   Fives complained about it often enough.

   “I need about ten minutes to shower,” you said.

   Echo nodded.  “I’ll be waiting...if you still want to go with me.”

   “Of course I do.  I just feel bad you’ve been waiting so long.”

   “Like I said, it just wouldn’t be the same without you.”

   “Alright, well I’ll be back in a few.”

   Fifteen or so minutes later, you found Echo waiting patiently as ever near the exit.  You caught up with him, feeling much better about your appearance.  He simply smiled when he saw you.

   “Ready?”

   “As I’ll ever be,” you said.  The two of you were able to take a military transport into town.  It was a short ride, and the transport was filled with your chatter as you shared information about the planet.  Echo had used his waiting time wisely to read up on some of the cuisine.  He listed off some interesting restaurant ideas, making both of your mouths water. Apparently a festival was going on, so there would be lots of things to see,

   When you stepped off the transport, Echo extended his arm slightly towards you so that you could loop your arm through it.  No doubt the two of you looked like a couple, which was why you waited until getting into town to make such contact.

   Your faced warmed as you observed his profile for a moment.  His eyes were wide and fascinated as he glanced around the ongoing festival.  Citizens wore colorful outfits and masks, bustling here and there.  Cheerful music played by musicians with stringed instruments filled the air.  Many delicious smells teased your senses.  A loud growl from your stomach made Echo’s gaze snap back to you.

   “Hungry?” he asked, amused.

   “I haven’t eaten since before my shift,” you admitted with a bashful smile.

   “Well, we’ll be sure to get something right away then.”  He nodded in the direction of the nearest stand.  “Let’s go.”

   Several happy citizens were leaving the stand with food in hand, smiling and talking amongst themselves.  You caught a whiff of one of the dishes.  “Ooh, we should get that,” you told Echo.  He followed your gaze and nodded.

   “Mm, that does look good.”

   Suddenly, you felt a rough hand grab your shoulder and give you a little shake.  Your heart quickened at the potential danger, but as you turned your head, you saw a gloved hand on Echo’s shoulder too.

   “There you are!” Fives exclaimed, giving you and Echo another affectionate shake.   You exhaled at the realization it was just your friend.  “I was wondering when you two lovebirds would venture out!”

   Your poor companion’s words caught in his throat.  “We’re not-  I mean…”  Echo stole a glance at you, flustered.  Finally, he seemed to gather some resolve as he raised a brow.  “No offense, but it’s none of your business.���

   “Oh-ho-ho.”  Fives chuckled, giving his brother a playful nudge.  “I’m just teasing.  No harm done.”

   Echo rolled his eyes, nudging him back.  “I’m sure.”

   You smiled at the brothers’ banter.  It was almost always like that when they hung out, which was all the time.  Fives had also become a good friend of yours as you got to know Echo better.  The three of you would often eat together at the mess hall or cause trouble at whatever places you found yourselves at on these new planets.  

   “Next!”  the lady at the stand called.  She wore a bright red costume with the sleeves rolled up as she put away the money from previous customers and closed the box.  Only her smiling eyes could be seen behind the matching mask.  “Troops!  We appreciate the protection the Republic has provided our planet.  What can I get you?”

   “We’d like two of those,” Echo ordered, pointing at the menu item that you had mentioned earlier.

   “Make that three,” Fives interjected.

   “Okay, three of those.  And could we also get two cups of tea.  Fives, you want one too?”

   “Count me in.”

   Echo nodded and turned back to the lady.  “Sorry, three cups of tea.  And that’ll do it.”

   She nodded and began adding up the cost.  Echo handed over the credits, and you pitched in to tip the woman.  She uttered her thanks, and the cook behind her started serving up the order.

   “These are our special desserts that are only made during this festival,” she said, packaging up three little cakes.  “You must try some!”

   Echo reached back into his pouch for more credits.  “How much?” 

   “On the house!” she said.  “I insist!  Enjoy the festival!”

   “Oh, thank you!” you accepted the packages, and Fives and Echo grabbed the food and teas.  The three of you headed over to one of the empty picnic tables and claimed your meals.  You sipped the cold cup of tea, smiling at the mildly sweet flavor and how refreshing it was.

   Fives had already dug into his food.  “This is great!” he mumbled through a mouthful.

   “Yeah?”  Echo took a bite of his own.  “Wow, you’re right.”

   Another loud growl sounded in your stomach, making Fives laugh and earning him an elbow in the side from Echo, as you finally tried your portion of the meal.  It did taste good, and it was very filling, though you had just enough room to have the dessert after.

   When you were done, you started cleaning up the picnic table and dropped the garbage into a nearby trash can.  On your way over, you overheard a conversation between the two ARC troopers.  They were trying to speak over the volume of the festival and remain out of earshot of you- to no avail.

   “So, Echo,” Fives said.  “You know you don’t have to do the whole ‘secret relationship’ thing in front of me, right?  Of all people, I’m not gonna’ say anything.”

   “There is no secret relationship,” Echo muttered.  “I was serious before.  We’re not together.”

   “Oh my gosh.”  Fives shook his head.  “Well, you’d better hurry up and claim her.  Or someone else will.  I’m telling you, she likes you.”

   “Shh, she’s coming back.

   You smiled, pretending you didn’t hear a word over your shoulder.  “What is next on the agenda?”

   “I’m actually going to go off on my own again,” Fives answered.  “You two have fun.”  Before either of you could even say “goodbye” for now, he left.  You looked to Echo, shrugging, and looped your arm with his again.

   The two of you did an initial sweep of the festival, checking out the games and activities as well as taking notes on any that you’d like to try as the evening went on.  There was something different about this outing.  You’d been to many places with Echo before, but this time, it seemed he was being a little more forward.  In a good way, of course.  You figured it was because of his conversation with Fives, but even so, you had not expected him to be as confident as he was.  At one point, he removed his arm from yours and took your hand instead, shooting you an inquisitive look.

   You nodded in silent approval of the gesture, giving his gloved hand a squeeze.  The smile on his face was so handsome.  It was nearly impossible to look away.  Pretty soon, the two of you were stopped in the middle of the festival with folks going around you.  He gazed back into your eyes, the smile slowly fading into an expression you’d never seen on him before.  Excitement coursed through your veins as he suddenly gave your hand a tug, leading you through the swarm of people until the two of you were in a small alley between two of the town’s shops.  It gave you a nice view of the festival from where you stood without being crowded out by other people.

   “What’s this about?” you asked, though you had a feeling you already knew.  Echo leaned his shoulder against the wall, glancing down at your intertwined fingers.

   “I wanted to play it cool,” he said.  “But I’m afraid I’ve been playing it too cool.”  His eyes met yours again, and you didn’t miss the way his chest rose and fell with a deep breath, as if he was preparing himself for something daring.  “The truth is... I really like you.  I have since the moment I first saw you.”

   “Nothing wrong with taking your time,” you replied.  “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you.”

   “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you too,” he agreed, your response visibly putting him at ease.  The smile returned to his face.  “I don’t consider any of the time we’ve spent wasted.  And if you’d rather we stay friends, I can do that.  I just...wanted you to know.  I care about you.”

   Your insides were practically melting at his words, though your heart was thudding fast and strong.  From the start, it was like gravity had been bringing you closer together.  You revolved around each other; not quite touching, but never too far.

   Suddenly, gravity brought you even closer.  You took a step forward.  He pushed off the wall slightly to meet you halfway, releasing your hand only to wrap his arms around you in a firm embrace.

   “I care about you too,” you told him softly.  He regarded your misty gaze with another one of his smiles before his eyes fell on your lips with intent.  Echo, ever the chivalrous, shifted so that his back was to the crowd.  Once you were concealed from any curious stares of those passing the alley, his lips caught yours. 

   The kiss was planet-shattering.  It held all the tenderness you would’ve expected at first, and then slowly built up with tension the two of you had been keeping tucked away for some time.  Something snapped, then.  Your lips were meeting his faster, needier; and he was happy to oblige.  

   Both of you were unwilling to part, but the sounds of the festival brought you back.  Echo was still tilting your chin as he pulled away to see your loving gaze.

   “Beautiful,” he murmured.

   “You sure are,” you said with a chuckle.

   He chuckled too with the slightest shake of his head in amusement.  “And she has a sense of humor.  How’d I get so lucky?”

   You pretended to consider his question for a moment, your face scrunching up in thought.  “It sure is a mystery,” you joked lightly, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.  He caught your lips one more time before you pulled away completely, and you nearly swooned.

[shurelyasreverie]

Sett x Reader: Love is the Best Medicine

You've been patching up Sett every since he joined the underground fight scene but you fear for the day he pushes himself too far.

Word Count: 1447

The sound of the front door opening and closing followed by sluggish footsteps woke you up from your light slumber on the couch. Stretching, you yawned as you regarded the time. It was an ungodly hour in the morning but you were used to it. Today was another day Sett was off fighting in the pits, and it was your job to make sure he survived them. Fortunately he usually knew how to look after himself.

“Y’really need to learn to lock the door,” Sett's familiar yet strained voice chided and you chuckled as you stood up, rubbing your eyes.

“Why bother? I know you're going to come-” Once you took in Sett's appearance you immediately looked away. You frantically cleared the couch and ushered his hulking form onto it. You didn't dare touch his bleeding and bruised arms, you couldn't bring yourself to look into his bloodshot eyes. His laboured breathing was painful to hear.

“(Y/N)-”

“Shush,” you scolded as you left to get your first aid kit and medication. Such wounds weren't going to kill him but every moment away from him still filled you with anxiety. You rushed back by his side and started to clean his wounds. The only sound in your home was Setts' grunts and groans as he writhed under the sting of anaesthetic.

“You've never been beaten up this bad before,” you whispered. With his wounds cleaned up, Sett looked visibly better and it helped you relax ever so slightly. You tossed the dirtied rags of blood – whose blood it was, you didn't know – to the ground.

“This didn't happen in the ring,” Sett muttered. “I must've pissed off some goons who placed bets on someone else. They jumped me when I was headin' out.”

You nodded silently as you bound his arm with bandages. You feared this day would come, where the violence Sett experienced was no longer bound to the pits. He now had a target on his back all day, every day. The underground pits weren't the concern anymore, it was now a question if he could just survive day to day life. Although you technically lived alone, having Sett – sometimes joined by his mother – frequently visit meant you almost always had company. If something happened and Sett wasn't around to visit-

“That face doesn't suit ya, y'know,” Sett grumbled and you shook your head.

“What face?”

“That sad one.” When you finished bandaging his arm, he brought it up. His large, calloused hand caressed the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “I can look after myself. Don't worry.”

“You'll need to rest from these injuries,” you stated and you felt his thumb hesitate before continuing its soothing motions as if everything was okay.

“Y'know I can't do that.”

“A week's rest.”

“People placed bets on me for tomorrow.”

“You can't,” you snapped, pulling your head away from his hand. “You can't fight in this state!”

“The fight's at night, I got all day to rest,” Sett reasoned.

“Not good enough,” you scolded.

“Listen (Y/N), it's either I fight at the pit or I fight for scraps on the street. Which one do you think's better?”

“I can accommodate for you and your mum,” you responded and Sett shot you a doubtful look. Even he knew that you weren't living the life of Noxian aristocracy. “... temporarily.”

“That ain't happenin', you've already done enough.”

Sett shifted as he pulled out a small leather pouch from behind. He placed it in your palm and you heard the unmistakable chink of coins. You tilted your head at him.

“That's thanks for lookin' after me,” Sett explained, further proving a point as he lifted his freshly bandaged arms. “At the rate I'm winnin' that bag'll be doublin' in size next time.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you regarded the pouch that sat comfortably in your palm that grew heavier with his words. Tears started to prick at the back of your eyes and you lowered your head, holding the bag back to him.

“I can't possibly take this.”

“Ma's got her fair share.”

“This is your money that you earned.”

“Damn right. It's my money and I choose what to do with it. I choose to give it to you.”

The fire in Sett's eyes was unmistakable. Knowing you couldn't argue with Sett when he made up his mind, you pulled your arm back and placed the pouch on the table.

“Just having you return is enough for me,” you admitted in a whisper.

“It ain't enough for me, though,” Sett replied, waiting until you turned to face him and look athim dead in the eyes. “I ain't just fightin' for money or glory. I'm fightin' for ma and I'm fightin' for you.”

“Me?” you frowned. “I'm fine-”

“I know why you live alone.”

“I told you, I just wanted to move out away from my family-”

“Your family kicked you out for bein' pals with the local 'half beast',” Sett corrected and your heart dropped. “Overheard 'em trash talkin' ya in the street a few days back. I know the truth. Don't worry, I made 'em shut up the only way I know how.”

“Sett...” you were lost for words. “I...”

“I'm sorry for makin' your life hell. Your family were doin' pretty damn well for themselves but they didn't spare shit for ya,” he growled. “All because of little ol' me.”

“I... I don't regret what happened,” you said, determined. “If they're not going to respect you then I'd rather have nothing to do with them.”

It was now Sett's turn to be lost for words, looking stunned as he blinked a couple of times. Solidifying your point, you gently wrapped your arms around his torso as not to aggravate his wounds. Pressing your head against his bare chest, you could hear his erratic heartbeat as it pounded in your ear. His arms made their way around your back, his face nuzzling into your hair. After a few moments of silence, Sett pulled his head back and so did you, but his hold on you didn't loosen.

“I'll make 'em respect me. And I'll make 'em respect you. Everyone who knows who I am will know you too. And they'll know to treat ya like royalty. I ain't havin' it any other way.”

“... thank you, Sett. I... if there's anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

Fingers gently nudged your chin up to look at him properly. As he leaned down, noses almost touching, you could see the details in his eyes as they burned with passion.

“Never leave my side,” he whispered.

“As long as you never leave mine.”

“Y'drive a hard bargain,” he chuckled quietly. “Deal.”

Both you and Set moved forward simultaneously, lips pressing together softly. Sett's hand that rested on your chin moved back, lacing his fingers through your hair. His other arm sat comfortably around your waist as he gently pulled you closer, closing any possible gaps between you as the kiss deepened. You felt warm as you were held in his embrace. How such a rough and brutal fighter be so gentle was beyond you but you loved it nonetheless.

You loved him.

The kiss ended as you gasped for air. Pressing your forehead against his, your breaths mingled together.

“I love you,” you confessed and Sett smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips again.

“I've waited too long to hear that,” he admitted and you giggled as you noticed his flushed face. “I love you too. I, uh... is it alright if I stay here for the night?”

“You should head back to your mum, she's probably worried for you.”

“Nah, ma would understand,” Sett cleared his throat as he looked away, embarrassed. “She's been waitin' for this to happen.”

You pulled back as you burst out laughing. Setts' ears flattened as he grumbled something non-coherent. But before he could get too grumpy, you took his hand with a soft smile, guiding him to the bedroom. “Come on, you need to be well rested and healed before you get back in the ring.”

[wkemeup]

Heal Me, Baby

summary: Bucky Barnes can’t seem to keep away from your med tent no matter how many times you fix him up. // challenge prompt: bed sharing  pairing: 1940s bucky x reader word count: 5k warnings: a very charming bucky 😉 a/n: This was written for @cake-writes​ 1940s challenge! Congrats on the 3.5 milestone!! The title of this fic comes from the song Heal Me by Snow Patrol 

There was blood on the white of your dress; slow and steady seeping into the fabric and staining the cotton blend fibers. Red and as deep and bold as the cross sewn into the chest of your uniform, the blood became part of the design because no matter how many times you scrubbed it clean, more would find its way back to the hip of your skirt, the sleeve of your shoulder, the hem of your apron by morning’s end. Sometimes you wondered why they’d bothered dressing you in white at all. Might as well make it red with the number of wounded soldiers they dragged through your tent; most halfway towards the shiny bright light and others inches away from their last breath.

The chaos was constant, a given, and despite the noise and clutter, it was where you felt most at home. It was better than the lull, the calm before the inevitable storm, where you’d be swarmed with men on stretchers, bleeding out onto the dirt and tossed into overcrowded beds. The steady stream was easier than the rapids, easier than assigning ten men to a single nurse where injuries could be missed, vital tears overlooked.

You were at the end of your shift for the night, dirt on your forehead, sweat damping the carefully curled ringlets at your neck. A file in your hand of the man at the end of the room, thicker than most, and you kept your eyes down as you pushed your way through the crowd of nurses and visiting soldiers, heels sinking slightly into the grass with every step.

When you came upon him, you finally noticed the name etched into the top right corner of the folder; the cheesy grin as he propped himself up on his elbows, blood and dirt coating most of his face, though still as annoying handsome as ever.

“Hiya, doll.”

“Oh, not you again.”

Bucky chuckled to himself as he plopped back down against the pillow, hands clasping behind his neck as he watched you work around his bedside. You huffed the hairs from your eyes, brushed the sweat from your hands as you slipped on a pair of gloves, careful to avoid the urge to smile at the way Bucky was so obviously studying your every move.

You’d seen him about a dozen times since you’d been transferred to the Italian warfront along with the 107th. He’d found a habit of stumbling into the medical tent after a night in the trenches, covered head to toe in what looked to be a dried mixture of mud and blood that didn’t always turn out to be his own. 

He’d flash that smile of his like he couldn’t smell the retch of sweat and grim on his skin, sweet talk you like he wasn’t thrown head first to the middle of a war he didn’t sign up for, and get your stomach twisted all up in knots, hands fumbling with the IV bag, a nervous flutter in your chest – though you’d never let him see that.

Sergeant Bucky Barnes was the kind of man the nurses talked about when he walked by. A tip of his cap, a slight salute in their direction, and they’d giggle themselves into a mess, clinging onto one another as they waved at him. 

But then, across the courtyard, his eyes would catch yours, a softer tone about him and he’d simply wink, something subtle and barely noticeable, but enough for it to be personal, almost intimate, because it wasn’t for others to see.

“Not happy to see me, huh?” Bucky drawled, crossing his ankles as he stretched back on the worn-down cot like he was sitting at home on the couch, waiting on a beer as he read the evening paper.

You pursed your lips, shooting him a narrowed look as you glanced over the intake file. “I’m never happy to see men in this tent, Sergeant Barnes. Did you forget where you are?”

You gestured down to the series of beds filled with men, some waiting as they hung off the edge of crutches or slumped over in chairs, with bandages wrapped around exposed chests, blood seeping through, broken limbs exposed, the quiet whimpers of pain muffled by forearms and pillows.

“Oh, come on, doll. You know I’m just teasing ya,” Bucky smirked, sitting up in the bed because he knew the routine well enough by this point. 

You held a single finger pointed up in front of his eyes and he followed it without instruction as you moved it across his line of sight. No sign of abnormal dilation. Ruled out a concussion, at least.  

“You should be more careful out there,” you warned, gathering the first aid kit from the bedside table. “You’re in here almost every day, you know.”

“Maybe I like the company,” he shrugged, blue eyes piercing straight through you and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a full beat.

Your hands trembled slightly as you cleaned the wound on his forehead, a hit from a fall by the looks of it, though it wasn’t deep enough to require stitches. He winced a little, a slight hiss in his tongue as you applied the alcohol.

“You shouldn’t be taking the bed from someone who needs it.”

“Hell, I do need it, doll,” Bucky whined, a little dramatically. “Look at me. I’m in pieces. I’m fallin’ apart at the seams and you’re the only one that can save me, sweetheart. I need ya.”

You paused with a tight pout of your lips, sitting back on the cot beside him long enough to roll your eyes. “You need a band-aid and stern warning, Sergeant Barnes. You’re fine.”

“Oh, call me Bucky, won’t you?”

You pressed the bandage to his forehead, a little firmer that you would have for most any other patient and he grunted under his breath, trying to steady himself against the thin mattress.

“Time for you to go, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky grinned, nodding to himself as he stood. “Been a pleasure, doll, as always. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“You better not!” you called back, arms folded over your chest as he snickered to himself, walking through the mess of chaos to the exit on the other end. He glanced back over his shoulder as he pulled up a flap of canvas and winked at you.

You clenched your jaw and got back to work.

***

Sure enough as the tides rolled in, so did Bucky Barnes to your med tent a few nights later.

You found him waiting for you on the last bed in the aisle, one leg tucked under him, the other hung over the side of the cot as he nursed his right hand in his lap. He was humming to himself through pursed lips, a tune that you recognized from the radio station your father often played back home; head bouncing a bit to the rhythm, massaging gently at the palm of his hand, completely unfazed by the chaos around him.

Stepping up to the edge of the bed, you supposed he caught sight of your shoes because he started to smile before he so much as lifted his head.

Slowly, like he was taking his time, he glanced up at you with that sheepish smile of his, a light chuckle under his breath, and he ran his left hand through the mess of hair atop his head.

“Hiya, doll.”

“What is it this time?”

Your arms were folded, toe tapping against the ground, but there was something in the way he couldn’t stop smiling at you, even as you scolded him, that tugged a bit on the tight strains in your chest. It pushed at the walls you’d built, poked at the cement layers between bricks until they started to fall one by one and you fought against the urge to smile back at him.

He was too sweet on you, too handsome and charming, and you were almost certain it was an act, so you clenched your jaw and forced a frown.

Bucky held up his hand and for you, showing off a rather nasty burn in the underside of his palm, just along his thumb; red and seared, bubbling a bit on the edges. Your resolve took a bit of a hit because he winced a little in the motion, like the chill of the air was enough to cause him pain.

“How did you manage to do that?” you asked, tone still a little tense, though you took a seat on the side of his mattress, the lumps of the worn-down cot pressing against your thighs.

You reached for the medical cart near the bedside table, though it was just an inch from reach, and Bucky took the liberty of wheeling it over for you. You paused, watching him as he casually slid the cart in front of you, careful of your shoes and the dips in the ground.

“It was my shift in the kitchens,” he shrugged.

His hand slipped into yours as you gestured for it; rough and calloused though still untouched in places, soft and tender. You wondered what he did before he was drafted, if he worked in factories or in a garage, if his hands had seen hard labor before he was handled a weapon and a battalion, or if they were a blank page, yet to be filled by the scars and abrasive markings of a man at war.

You turned it over gently, easing the back of his hand to sit cradled in your palm as you examined the burn. It looked like he’d singed it on the side of the stove. The ring of the plate visible on the edge of his palm.

“Didn’t think you were required take shifts in the kitchens, Sergeant,” you commented, raising an eyebrow, though you kept your focus on his hand.

“Helps with morale,” Bucky replied simply. “Doing the same grunt work together does something for when we’re out in the trenches, you know? I’m not any better than them because the higher-ups threw some title in front of my name. We’re all stuck here, aren’t we?”

There was a chuckle in his voice, a lightness, and it surprised you as you looked up to see that it didn’t quite touch his eyes. How often did that happen and you didn’t notice because you were so caught up in holding up walls to keep from his games? How often had it not been a game at all and rather a mask he wore, to protect the most vulnerable parts of himself from giving into the horrors he saw on the front lines?

He took a deep breath, focused on the grip of your hand around his as you slowly started to apply aloe along the burn. Cautious eyes glancing up to him, you watched as his shoulders slumped a little, a weight lifting from the tension he carried as the cooling of the gel started to take effect. The hardened lines on his face softened, his breaths coming in a bit steadier, the sigh that left his lips light and sweet.

“I’m sure they appreciate what you do for them,” you said, softer this time, in hopes of distracting yourself from the way his lips parted ever so slightly in relief the longer you soothed the gel along his hand.

“Eh, keeps me busy,” he said, brushing it off, almost like the praise was uncomfortable for him, like it didn’t feel warranted or necessary. He smiled to himself, pulling his lower lip between his teeth as you started to wrap his hand, gentle touches delicately easing the bandage around the burn. “Brought me back to you, didn’t it? I call that a win.”

You laughed a bit at that despite yourself as you clipped the edges of the bandages and secured it properly. “I’m sure you would have found an excuse to come bother me all on your own, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Bucky,” he reminded you again, grinning so wide it must have hurt.

“I don’t want to see you in this tent for at least a week,” you warned, placing his hand back into his own lap. You stood, brushing the wrinkles from the edges of your dress. Though you were stern with him, you were smiling. He certainly took notice of it.

“That’s a lot to ask of me, sweetheart. I’m a clumsy guy.”

“You’re the best sharpshooter we have!”

“I’m a mess, honey. Look at me! You’re my only hope.”

“Oh, get out of here!” you laughed, pushing on his shoulders though you were met with significant resistance; a playful game of cat and mouse, and damn if you weren’t completely falling for it.

He finally gave in when your laughter started to draw the attention of the nurses gathered around the bedsides of injured soldiers, and you swatted him on the shoulder, heat flushing to your cheeks in embarrassment, though you were unsuccessfully biting back a smile.

As he made his way to the exit, he turned back for a final look, surprised to find you still watching him, and he winked; cool and collected, confident. You shook your head at him, arms folded over your chest, but he saw the way the corners of your lips pushed up high into your cheeks, the brightness in your eyes, the whisper of a laugh still in your breath.

If this was all a game, he was certainly winning.

***

A few weeks later and the nurses had resorted to reserving a spot for Bucky in the back of the tent; the same cot in your assigned row because he all out refused to be seen by anyone else. He’d duck through the canvas flaps at the entrance, smile politely at the nurses and wait patiently for you to notice him.

His injuries varied anywhere from a paper cut along his palm to a splitting headache to simple heartburn. He knew better than to take your attention away from soldiers who really needed it, but he’d come to consume the moments in between, whether you liked it or not.

But a funny thing started to happen.

You started to look forward to the days when he’d peep his head into the tent, checking to make sure you were on shift before he’d saunter his way inside and take his seat on his favorite cot. You’d find disappointment burning like jealousy in your chest on the days he didn’t, and your mind would wonder where he was or if he was alright.

He’d once waited hours before you were able to step away from the gunshot wounds of a soldier two beds down and though the scrape on his knee had all but scabbed over by then, he stuck around until the kid stabilized. 

You were exhausted by the time you made it over to Bucky, losing hope that you’d be able to keep the injured soldier alive through the night and trying to mask the utter helplessness you felt.

But Bucky made his light-hearted jokes, he teased you for the dirt on your forehead, whined and complained dramatically about his knee though you both knew he’d sleep it off my morning, and it brought back a smile to your face before you realized it. He managed to push through even the darkest parts of your days.  

***

Bucky’s regiment was out on assignment for over a week and you would have been lying to yourself if you said you didn’t miss him. You found yourself glancing down at the entrance every few minutes, feeling like something was missing when you finished your checklist, stabilized your patients, and finally had a free moment for yourself. There was something else you would have been attending to.

It wasn’t until you realized it was Bucky you were searching for, waiting to see his smile light up at he caught your eye, that it hit you just how easily you’d fallen for him.

At the end of a very long week, he stumbled into the med tent on a rolled ankle, leaning off the shoulder of Captain America himself, complaining of a pain in his left arm. You were relieved to see him, like a weight lifted from your chest that was holding you underwater for days, but you couldn’t let him see that.

“Been a while, honey,” he smirked. “Miss me?”

“Watch yourself, Barnes,” you warned, though it was light and airy. You eased his arm over your shoulders and excused Steve as he was still supporting his weight. You tried not to focus on how nice it felt to have Bucky this close, his arm draped over your shoulders, his side pressed up tight to yours as he hobbled in support of his injured ankle.

“Got real lonely out there on the front without you,” Bucky teased as you helped him down to the cot. “Stevie had to fix me up. Wasn’t pretty.”

“I can see that,” you laughed, gesturing to the mess of bandages circling around his arm. “What did you do? Bump into the corner of the tank?”

“Not exactly,” he chuckled awkwardly, pulling his arm from what remained of his sleeve to give you better coverage. He curled his shirt up in his hands, shivering as the cold touched exposed skin and you tried to ignore the taunt lines of his muscles and the placement of freckles down his back, the shadows over his abdomen.

Slowly, you pulled back the bandages, wrapped about a dozen times over, until red started to appear in the white of the cloth, soaking through the layers thicker and darker until you found the source. Your smile had long fallen by the time you saw the wound on his arm, a bullet grazing on the outer stretch of muscle; ripped and raw on the edges, a piece of your heart torn along with it.

“You were shot?”

“Oh, come on, doll, it ain’t so bad,” Bucky chuckled. “It’s just a little graze.”

You shook your head, quickly tending to the open wound with alcohol swipes that left him hissing from the sting of it. Your hands were shaking slightly, but you held your breath in hopes he wouldn’t notice.

“Why is it that you feel the need to come in here with senseless injuries and waste my time but when you're actually hurt, you brush it off like it’s nothing?” 

You weren’t angry despite the tone of your voice. No, it was fear that took over, marred through the tension of your words and the frantic thumping inside your chest. The idea of him never walking into your tent again ripped the heart straight from you. 

“We’re at war, honey,” Bucky replied gently and though he still wore that beautiful smile on his face, it was softer. “This kind of stuff happens all the time.”

“Not to you,” you whispered, voice low and heavy.

Your fingers were trembling as you attempted to thread the needle for the third time, though it was no use. It kept missing the eye, your hand was shaking too much for a steady grip. You couldn’t protect him when he was out in the trenches, couldn’t heal his wounds and tend to his injuries. You couldn’t save him if something happened out there, leaving him stranded. 

A few inches to the right and the bullet could have torn through a major artery and maybe Steve Rogers would have showed up in your tent with his helmet held at his chest and a solemn look in his eye when he told you that Bucky fought valiantly until his last breath.

The thread missed the needle again and you let out a groan, a wave of frustration and anger and fear and suddenly Bucky’s hands were on yours, slowly lowering them back to your lap. He smiled sweetly at you as he gently took the needle and thread from your hands and slipped it through the eye. He knotted it at the end and handed it back to you, adjusting his position on the cot to give you better leverage.

“I should get someone else to do this,” you said quietly.

“No deal, honey. You’re the only one for me.”

“Bucky, my hands are shaking. I should ask one of the girls to--”

“It’s you or I walk.” 

Bucky smirked, winking at you over his shoulder before he settled in again. Determined and stubborn as you’d ever seen him. 

You sighed, pushing out a deep breath as you steadied your hand. “Okay, well, no complaining if you end up with a scar.”

“Me? Never.”

***

Bucky wasn’t the only soldier in the tent that night and you were worn thin; running on startling lack of caffeine and frequent cold bursts of air outside, you hadn’t slept in nearly two days as you attended to the influx of injured men.

Half of your girls were out sick from the bug that was floating around camp, though you were almost certain it wasn’t airborne as they insisted and they’d contracted it by getting cozy with the soldiers. You couldn’t blame them for seeking comfort amongst the harsh conditions of the war, but being down two girls in an overcrowded, busy tent full of men in terrible pain wasn’t easy to manage on your own.

Bucky’s presence seemed to help, though. He’d smile at you whenever you looked in his direction and you started to wonder if he was watching you as you worked, as opposed to the book in his lap. He always seemed to be looking at you when you turned over your shoulder to check in on him, anyway. The pages of the book sitting in his hand remained unturned for too long, even as he fought against the heaviness of his lids, sleeping threatening to pull him under though he resisted.

He gave in after you’d swiped the book from his hands and ordered him to close his eyes.

“Anything for you, doll,” he said, yawning through every syllable.

You watched as he settled into the sheets, bare chest exposed and the heavy bandage wrapped around his arm. His eyes fluttered shut, nose scrunching as he sniffled in a tight breath, and his whole body seemed to relax, finding sleep rather quickly.

It was nearly two in the morning by the time the med tent quieted down.

Most of the men were asleep, the others too doped up on pain medications to notice much of anything going on around them, their eyes softly gazing out ahead of them, heavy eyelids falling shut. You let the remaining girls go back to their own tents until dawn, given that the worst of it all had subsided.

With a tired yawn, you dragged your feet down to Bucky’s bed. He was snoring softly in his sleep, lips parted just slightly, and you realized gazing down at him, that he looked years younger like this; the innocence he often masked amongst the perils of war rising fresh to the surface, unobstructed.

With a cautious hand, you reached out and grazed your fingertips along his arm; his whole body sighing in response, a slight curve of his lips, his head lulling to the side closest to the touch.

But you couldn’t stand there and watch him sleep all night. The bandage had started to bleed through and it needed a rewrapping.

You pulled up a chair next to his cot, carefully beginning to unwrap the cloth from around the tight muscle of his arm. Smooth skin under pebbled goosebumps from the chill outside, you gently released the bandage to the mattress. The wound didn’t look so bad underneath, but you cleaned it up a bit to be safe. With a quick dab to his arm with the disinfectant, you glanced up at his face in search of a hitch in his breath or a hiss on his tongue, but he remained fast asleep.

Even men like Bucky Barnes needed a break. He looked so sweet sleeping like that, the slight pout on his lips as you cleaned the wound, the sniffle through the beginnings of a head cold. 

You yawned, struggling to keep your eyes open and quickly rebandaged his arm. There were more men in this tent that needed your attention.

A few beds down and an hour later, you began to switch out the IV drip of a man with a severed leg; a young, baby faced kid who didn’t look old enough to graduate school, let alone be given a gun in the middle of wartime. He scrunched his nose in his sleep, his thigh twitching like he might still think something was there. There was sweat beading on his face, dripping damp into the pillow. You didn’t know how much longer he had.

Your legs wobbled slightly under you and you gripped onto the bedside table. The exhaustion was starting to reel you in, pull you under to the warm embrace of sleep, but you had a job to do, men to care for. Pressing the heel of your palms to your eyes, you tried to push the tiredness from you, though a yawn broke through again anyway.

“Looking like you might need some rest, doll.”

You froze at the sound of his voice, like ice and fire, relief and panic.

A heavy sigh sat in your chest before you turned around, only to find Bucky brushing at his eyes, sleepily smiling up at you from his cot. He propped himself him on his elbows, as you quickly made yourself busy, simply watching as you continued about your work.

“Someone has to attend to these men, Bucky,” you replied, a little tenser than you usually were with him, but the exhaustion had taken hold of you and it took effort just to keep your eyes open.

“Doll,” he called, softer this time, “you’re going to pass out. Where'd everyone go?”

“Sent them off. No need for a crowd to watch over sleeping men.” You checked the vitals of a man across the aisle from Bucky; steady rhythm, even pulse. He’d make it until morning, at least.

“When’s the last time you slept?” he asked slowly and you could feel his eyes following you around the tent, watching intently as you tended to each of the men, assuring yourself that they were as restful as they appeared. There was a concern in his voice, a sincerity, and it tensed in your shoulders.

You released a heavy breath, keeping focused on replenishing the infusion bag of a soldier who was hanging on by a thread. One quick glance back at Bucky proved to be a mistake as he was still watching you, though it was under kind, worried eyes. He was still waiting on an answer.

“You don’t need to be worrying about how much I’m sleeping,” you said, turning your back to him because your eyes were falling heavy and it was near impossible to keep them open. You leaned onto the frame of another soldier’s bed for support, pretending to be busy for Bucky’s sake.

“No?” Bucky questioned with an embellished sigh. “Someone has to, don't you think?”

“Bucky, I’m fine,” you yawned, covering your mouth with your wrist as you turned back to face him. 

He chuckled a bit under his breath, chin falling to his chest, before he smiled up at you like you’d missed out on some kind of inside joke.

“Oh, ‘course you are, doll. Must have been someone else who put the same bloody bandage back on my arm after cleaning it then, huh?” he shrugged teasingly, gesturing to his arm where a dark red bandage circled around his bicep.

Your eyes blew wide, a gasp in your throat and you rushed over to him. Hands fumbling for the chair, missing several times and resorting to falling at your knees, you made quick work of trying to peel away the red bindings.

“Shit! Shit, I’m-- shit,” you panted, shaking, “that’s never happened before and I—oh God, I’m so sorry, Bucky—I’ll fix it, just—just give me a second and—”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, honey,” Bucky cooed sweetly, helping to unfasten the bandage because your hands were fumbling too long with the clasps. His right hand encased your shaking fingers, holding them tightly long enough to pull your attention away from his arm. “It happens, okay? No harm done. I’m aces, alright?”

“No, no, it’s wildly...” you sucked in a sharp breath, tingling in the back of your jaw, stretching at your cheeks, “...unacceptable and I...” another yawn broke through, “...should report myself because...” and a third.

“Jesus, doll, listen to you. You’re exhausted,” Bucky eased, reaching for the clean bandages on the bedside table. He grabbed a fresh one and put one end between his teeth for leverage as he began to wrap his own arm.

You sat back on your heels, kneeling next to his bed and certainly getting dirt along the end of your dress. You watched as he wove the clean cloth in and around his arm, concentration etched into his facial features to mask the slight wince of pain as the fabric touched the wound.

Guilt was fresh in your chest as Bucky wrapped his arm himself, pulled it tight and gestured for you to fasten it. He could have done it himself, you were sure. There was a smile on his face as he looked at you, like he was trying to make you feel better.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. It won’t happen again,” you mumbled, defeated and you rose to your feet, beginning to walk away.

“Wait, honey, don’t go--”

You froze, surprised by a sudden grip at your hand before you could take a step away from his bedside, and when your eyes shot back to his, he let go immediately, his cheeks flushing red as he began to laugh nervously. It was a kind of embarrassment you never expected to see in him.

“You don’t gotta apologize to me, doll,” he started, scratching at the back of his head.

“I can’t afford to make mistakes,” you retorted, voice a little more somber. “You can’t afford it either.”

“Then, make it up to me.”

You narrowed your eyes, fighting off the urge to yawn again. “What would you have me do?”

“Get some rest?” he asked sheepishly, scooting to the far edge of the tiny, twin size cot. He took up most of the space himself and you swore you may have seen him swallow nervously as he pulled down the covers, gesturing to the open space.

“No, I... I can’t,” you said flatly, though your heart was racing.

“You’re going to pass out where you stand and you said yourself you can’t afford to make more mistakes,” he argued gently. “Just a few hours. Then you’ll be good as new. No more dirty bandages.”

“Bucky, I...” you shook your head, stepping back and folding your arms over your chest. “I-- I have to look after these men. I can’t fall asleep. What if something happens?”

“I’ll wake you up,” he responded with a shrug. “I got my hours in. Anyone starts throwing a coughing fit, monitors start going haywire, I’ll let you know. I promise.”

“People will talk,” you whispered, excuses lined up but Bucky didn’t let them break his smile for even a moment.

“No one's around, sweetheart.”

“It’s inappropriate.”

“So is half my guys sleeping with your girls and yet...”

You laughed a bit at that, chewing on the edge of your lip, the rouge long faded of color. A heavy silence passed, a slight sway in your stance as your body fought tirelessly against the urge to close your eyes. Glancing down the rows of cots, it seemed quiet. Not a peep for hours and everyone was stable.

You turned back to Bucky. He was waiting patiently.

“You’ll wake me?”

You didn’t think it was possible for him to smile wider, but – God – it was blinding.

“Cross my heart.”

Stepping out of your shoes, you slowly made your way to the edge of his bed. You stared down at the open space and the slim line of mattress available to you. You must have taken too long because he started shifted a bit more to the edge, to the point where he was nearly falling off.

“Promise I’ll be a complete gentleman,” he chuckled lightly, cheeks pink and rosy. It was damn near impossible to say no to him when he looked at you like that, with a sincerity you hadn’t known since you left the States, draped under ocean blue.

“One hour,” you warned him as you slowly lowered yourself into the cot beside him. It squeaked as you let your weight fall to its uneven springs, the lumps evident against your back, the frame prominent through the thin cushion.

“One hour,” he agreed, giving you space as you rested your head against the pillow if you wanted it, though you heard his breath hitch as you tugged his arm down a little to lean against his shoulder, his right arm curling around your back to keep you steady on the bed.

Laying on your side, curled up next to him, you rested your left arm against his chest, tracing your fingers along the exposed lines of his stomach, the dip at his sternum, the scars littering smooth stretches of beautifully tanned skin. He shivered under your touch, his breath slightly uneven, though he didn’t say anything. His hold on you tightened as he suppressed a gasp under the bite of his teeth, like a reflex, pulling you tighter as his toes curled and his spine lightened.

“This okay?” you asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper and you watched as your breath touched his chest, goosebumps in its wake.

“Perfect, honey,” Bucky replied sweetly, his fingers drawing patterns along your back, tracing along the zipper of your dress and the seams in the shoulders. “Close your eyes, will you?”

A sleep heavy laugh pulled up at your cheeks, resting on his chest, as you let your hand fall flat against his stomach. You nodded, curling up as close against him as you could manage, losing yourself in the gentle waves of his touch along your spine.

“Thank you,” you whispered as your eyes began fluttering shut. You could hear the pulse of his heart beating gently under your ear, the steady rhythm lulling you a warm embrace. The slip of consciousness tugging you kindly to the ease of temporary darkness.

There was a slight touch on your forehead, something warm and sweet, lingering as your breaths became longer, steadier, drawn out and even; the heat of breath to your skin, the slight hum of a content sigh. A kiss as gentle and kind and tender as the man behind it.

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

[mingiswow]

Genre: smut, fluf at the end

Pair: sub!Chan x dom!reader (female)

Word count: +1,9k

Warnings: smut, sub!chan, dom!femreader, mistress kink, pegging, oral (f receiving), facesitting, slightly degradation, anal fingering (male receiving)

A/N: Hi! I don’t know exactly but I was talking to my friend the other day about Chan and OH GOD my mind went places... and ended up in here. So I hope you enjoy me being a filthy h**e about dominating this man. Also, I’m a bit rusty with English so pardon me if there’s anything wrong. I missed writing so much too, so yeah... here it is

You looked at your smiling boyfriend on the screen of your phone, his weekly live playing as you did your assignments. His bright smile was something you admired. As well as his loving persona towards his fans.

“I really love this song” he said as one of your favorites stopped playing. He always played one of your songs just to show you he remembers every song you claim as yours and his. “It’s very romantic” you laughed, knowing damn well that it was a very sensual song.

He scrolled through the comments, answering stays questions, thanking the compliments over the comeback. “I missed you... daddy” he read the comment, lowering his voice to say the word, but it was still possible to listen to his whisper “I missed you too baby stays” you chuckled to yourself, knowing his demeanor too damn well.

In a matter of seconds the internet was filled with videos, gifs and print screens of the phrase. Twitter going wild over it, thousands and thousands of girls commenting about being dominated by him.

You looked over your computer screen, it was past midnight and his live was still going strong, so you decided to let your assignments aside and prepare the bed for when your boyfriend decided it was time to come home.

It was around 2 PM when Chris opened the front door, his steps careful not to wake you up. He dropped his bag on the table and slowly walked to your room, finding the low light still on. “B-“ the words got stuck on his throat when he saw you sitting on the bed, still awake. Very much awake.

“Hi, sugar. I thought you wouldn’t come home today” the smirk on your face - and the toy in your hand - warned he was in for a long night. “Especially after your little show” you slowly walked over the man, his ears, neck and face getting red - and probably the tip of his cock too. “Why did you call yourself today, baby?”

“D-daddy” his voice just above a whisper, the stuttering getting the best of his confidence. Everytime you appeared near him dressed the way you were and with the whip in your hands he knew he did something wrong and was going to be punished. And he hated to admit that he loved.

“Interesting” Chan felt the familiar sting in his thigh, the muscle tensing underneath. “You think you’re daddy?” another sting, this time a soft whimper barely leaving his mouth.

“N-no” he felt your warmth close to his body and all he wanted was to hug you, to hold you close and apologize. But he couldn’t.

“No who?”

“No, mistress” the whip hit his butt this time, a soft moan escaping his lips and he could feel his dick throbbing underneath his sweats.

“Such a good boy, aren’t we? So obedient, so eager to please your mistress” your hands softly touched his toned abs, lowering to his bulge already very visible in his pants. He hissed as soon as he felt your touch, head thrown back in pleasure. “Always so sensitive. I love how my baby gets hard so fast. Who are you hard for?” this time your fingers wrapped around the volume and his lips left the most obscene moan.

“You, mistress. I’m so hard for you. Please let me give you pleasure” you wanted to just throw him in your bed and ride him until there was no tomorrow, but you had to punish him.

“Baby boy wants to give me pleasure?” he nodded eagerly, his lower lip stuck in between his teeth. “So why don’t you show me what those pretty lips of yours can do huh? Take your clothes off and lay in bed”.

Chan rushed his clothes out of his body, his dick springing free and hitting his stomach, a sigh leaving his lips. He laid his body in bed and you could see his chest that you loved so much rise up and down with his heavy breathing. You slowly walked your way to the bed, losing your lacy panties on the way.

You straddled his lap, grinding ever so slightly on his hard cock before moving upwards. “Be a good boy and put your tongue out” Chand gladly did, leaving the wet muscle on display. You gently sat on his face, your weight being held by your legs that almost gave out as soon as the boy gave your core the first lick. He placed his hands on your thighs, pulling you even more towards his face, a moan dying in your throat when he assaulted you needy clit. “Hm baby… that’s it… you’re doing so good for mistress”.

He quickly stopped his ministrations “I want you to cum on my mouth, mistress. Can I please taste you?” 

“Do you think you deserve it? Do you think I should give you what you want after being such a brat?” he moaned when you pulled his head closer to your pussy by his hair, the vibrations almost sending you to the edge.

“I’ll be a good boy, please. I promise I won't do it anymore. I’ll be mistress’ good baby” his voice was muffled by your skin and his needy tone was music to your ears. You loved when he begged. “So show me what you can do, make me cum” you could feel his smile in between your legs as he pulled you even closer to his, holding your legs like his life depended on it. His tongue was fast and skillful, almost rough against your pussy, alternating the pleasure between your entrance and your clit.

You could feel your orgasm building quickly as he kept playing with your clit, sucking the bud a few times. The moan that left your lips when you finally orgasmed sounded more like a groan and Chan licked your cum like you were his last meal, moaning with the taste of it. “Thank you, mistress” he thanked when you left his face, your juices dripping from his chin. The most beautiful sight you’ve seen.

“You made me cum but I still have to punish you, baby” Chan bit his lower lip when he saw you grab the strap and lube from your toys’ drawer. “Turn around sweetie” you came closer, lowering to his ear “I still wanna fuck your ass until you beg me to stop” you could see his dick twitch by your words.

The boy lifted himself, getting back to the bed, this time getting on fours. The soft and pale skin of his ass in display for you, the patch where you hit him with the whip earlier was still shining a pretty shade of pink, making you smirk to yourself.

You prepared yourself, putting the strap around your legs, the smaller dildo that was placed inside entering your pussy deliciously, making you enjoy the fun as much as the boy in front of you. Your hands caressed his ass cheeks, massaging and squeezing the skin, feeling him move his bottom towards you. “You have no idea how hot you are, baby boy” you landed a slap on his ass, a soft whine leaving his lips. “How delicious your body is” another slap. “How everytime I see you I want to grab you and fuck you senseless, make you whimper and scream my name like the little slut you are” his hips rolled themselves against your strap, his head hanging low. “You’d like that, don’t you?” Chan could only moan and whimper underneath you, his fists balled on the bed sheets. 

He hated to admit, but he loved the power you had on him, the way you made him feel every single time you guys had sex, either it was loving, caring and slow or it was dirty, rough and got him seeing stars. “I couldn’t hear you, princess” you added when you heard a mumble, his words barely forming properly with the anticipation. The tip of the dildo touching ever so gently his rim. “Yes, mistress. I’d love that. Please, fuck me, please” his whines where the cutest and he knew you were weak for them.

You smiled and lubed the dildo and your fingers as well. His breath got stuck on his throat when he felt you gently invade his hole with one of your fingers, stretching him little by little, soon adding a second one. Chan’s moans were music to your ears, getting louder by the time you started pumping your fingers in and out of him, his body coming back to meet with your fingers. “M-more… please… I need your cock so bad… I will be a good boy, please, mistress” you cooed at the way he was begging you. “So needy my princess” you took your fingers out and he hissed at the sudden emptiness but soon being filled by the toy, his body jolting forward but soon coming back to meet your hips, the dildo completely buried inside him. The sight before you making your own walls clench around the dildo inside you. 

Your hips slowly started to move, letting Chan get used to the feeling but soon enough your hips were pistoning inside him, his hips meeting yours halfway, your moans mixing deliciously together and you were sure your neighbours could hear everything perfectly but neither of you cared. “Mi-mistress…. agh…. I’m so close” the boy moaned underneath you, his torso already thrown in the bed, his head pressed on the pillow. “You can cum, baby. Come for your mistress, show me how of a dirty baby slut you are for me” your words combined with the fast motions of your hips made Chan come all over the sheets without even having his dick being touched. The sweet whimpers and moans leaving his lips taking you close too, the scene of him shaking underneath you with the tip of the dildo hitting his prostate over and over again, overstimulating him was a sight to behold and soon enough you came too, slowing your thrusts as you rolled your hips against the dildo inside you. Your hands holding yourself on his hips as you rode your orgasm.

Chan hissed when you left his ass empty, suddenly feeling strange with not having you deep inside him. You went to the bathroom, taking off your strap and leaving inside the sink to be cleaned later and cleaning yourself. You grabbed a wet warm towel and cleaned the wasted boy on the bed, soft giggles leaving him as you rubbed over some extra ticklish parts. You left the towel with the strap on the sink and joined your boyfriend on the bed, hugging him and pulling his body next to yours, his head laying on your naked chest while he mindlessly drew circles on the skin of your tummy. “I love you, Y/N” his voice was low and hoarse from the previous actions. “I love how comfortable you make me feel with my own desires. Thank you for being my girlfriend” he kissed the muscle of your breast and you could feel your heart swell at the sweetness. 

“I love you too, Channie” your lips left a kiss on the top of his head, hugging him closer. “And I’ll give everything you wish as long as you behave and be a good boy” he nodded giggling and kissed your lips. “Now go to sleep, princess, you must be tired” he snuggled against your body and soon he was fast asleep.

You played with his hair, a smile on your own lips as you fell asleep with the love of your life in your arms.