#it feels. tweaked. and tired. and locked up and like it needs to stretch and pop and *sore* but not muscle-sore | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

Text

Green (Bucky x Reader)

Word Count: ~3k

***Warnings*** : Graphic and explicit consensual non-consent. It’s all pre-negotiated roleplay, but it includes fighting, struggling, spitting, scratching, the whole nine yards.

A/N: The companion fic to Red. You do not need to read that first; this stands on its own. However, without that as an introduction, there’s no obvious indication until about two-thirds into the fic that what’s happening is consensual.

More on this in another note at the end, but thanks to @thoughtslikeaminefield @fangirlxwritesx67 @katwillrise @mskathywriteswords @cracksinthewalls @littlegreenplasticsoldier @stunudo and the rest of the Slack squad for helping me sort out my feelings about “dark” fic, and for being a safe space to talk through stuff like this. This was really fucking difficult for me to write, but I’m glad I did.

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

- From “Wild Geese,” by Mary Oliver

It’s just like any other Friday night, until it’s not.

One moment I’m turning on the light in the entryway, hanging up my coat — next there’s a prickle down my spine, some primal reptile-brain instinct —

Run! Now!

— but there’s no time to recognize it for what it is. My body isn’t in the habit of being threatened; my body is tired and lazy, moving on autopilot through the comforting routine of Friday night. In the heartbeat between instinct and action, he pounces.

The hand over my mouth is metal: unyielding, unliving, chilling me down to my core, and if it wasn’t for the heat of the rest of his body all down my back, I wouldn’t assume he was human. His right arm is around my ribs, locking me in place, and it feels feverish in contrast but it’s trapping me as securely as if it was iron.

I can’t reconcile the cool metal against the human warmth, or the awful metallic tang mingled with the barely-there whiff of sweat. My mind is moving all jerky and slow. I can’t make sense of this.

Doesn’t matter, though, because I’m trapped anyway, like a wild animal in a snare. Trying to make sense of it won’t change the fact that vicious iron jaws snapped shut around me.

It was just like any other Friday night.

Panic clutches around my lungs all at once, adrenaline flooding in, and everything in me screams, fight back.

I thrash and squirm in his grasp, but he has my arms pinned down at my sides, and I’m small and helpless against the solid wall of muscle that is his chest. My raw strangled gasps come out as tiny hitched sobs, muffled by metal, barely audible in the still half-dark entryway of my apartment. He leans back, hefting me up so that my feet don’t quite touch the floor any more, like I weigh nothing, and takes a few steps away from the door.

“Don’t make a sound,” he snaps, before spinning me around, slamming me back against the wall and pinning me there with his metal hand at my throat.

Panic makes everything sharper. It’s too sharp, sharp like the shadows cast by the angles of his jaw and cheekbones, sharp like the way he’s watching me with pale hard eyes.

“Why — why are you here?”

He tilts his head, considering me.

“I was sent,” he says simply, in a low rasp of a voice.

“What do you want?”

Something cracks open in his eyes, like a tectonic shift bringing magma to the surface, and then the strangest expression spreads slowly over his features, fierce hunger and wild terror all at once. Fear splinters like lightning down my spine.

“Take off your clothes,” he says quietly. “Let me see you.”

I lash out with both hands, ready to claw at his eyes, but with his arm outstretched, he’s just out of my reach; when I scratch and slap at the metal wrist, he doesn’t even seem to notice, and when I strain against his grip, I only succeed in choking myself. Black spots dance across my vision, and I draw ragged wheezing breaths, clutching uselessly at the sleeve of his black leather jacket, still twitching and twisting feebly.

At least he can’t undress me with one hand, I think, for one absurd second.

Then his free hand twitches down to his side, and he’s raising a knife. Dark oxidized metal gleams in his fingers. I freeze, staring at the wickedly honed edge of it as he brings it closer, holding it up at eye level before lowering it slowly.

The tip hooks under the first button of my blouse, and when he flicks the blade upward, the fabric separates like it’s nothing. I barely dare to breathe as he cuts my shirt open, one button at a time, with surgical precision. The knife is so close to my skin that one wrong move could slice into me.

When the ruined remains of my blouse gape open, he lowers the blade, ready to cut through the waistband of my skirt, and my frayed nerves snap.

“Don’t,” I blurt out. “I’ll do it. I’ll cooperate.”

I unzip it, trying to step out of it without moving my head, still trapped by the constant silent threat of his fingers around my throat.

He sheathes the knife so that he can push my shirt roughly down my arms. My bra straps follow; he tugs them down my shoulders and reaches around to pop the clasp open, and when it falls, he pauses, licking his lips as he gazes up and down my body, taking in the revealed skin.

There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes when they meet mine for a long, frozen moment. He draws a breath like he’s about to say something, and his grip loosens a fraction.

I’m not done fighting.

I spit in his face, and when he flinches, I wrench myself away, twisting out of his grasp, bolting down the hall toward the bedroom door.

Just as I wonder whether he’s reconsidered, whether he’ll let me go, he snarls, “You’ll regret that.”

I go down hard and fast when he tackles me, barely getting my arms out in time to break my fall, and the impact sends a flash of pain through one elbow but there’s no time to think about that — no time to feel it — not when I’m thrashing and kicking and squirming — but he’s too strong, too heavy — I almost writhe away but then he rolls me onto my back — pins me, sitting on my thighs — and my fists are swinging, flailing uselessly against his face and shoulders, but he doesn’t even seem to notice — and I let out a desperate sob as I realize I’m helpless again.

I want to scream, but there isn’t enough breath in my lungs.

He shuffles up on his knees until he’s straddling my waist, looming over me, blocking out everything else, and he snatches my wrists as I beat my fists against his stomach and chest. His lip curls, baring his teeth in a feral approximation of a smile, and he gathers my wrists together so he can hold them in the bruising circle of his metal fingers.

Flesh fingertips dig cruelly into the hinge of my jaw, forcing it open, and he leans forward to spit into my open mouth — something twists and clenches deep in my gut as I sputter and choke, skin crawling with disgust.

“Not so nice, is it?” he sneers, sitting back on his heels.

Worn black denim stretches over muscular thighs as he shifts, drawing attention to the fact that he’s hard — the thick shape of his cock is obvious, straining against the fabric.

My eyes snap back to his face, but it’s too late. He chuckles, throaty and smug, and then he rubs himself through his jeans, squeezing roughly, making it impossible to ignore his arousal.

“Is that what you want?” he asks — taunts — and I shake my head frantically, throat too tight to speak. He smirks and drops his hand to my chest, tweaking one nipple hard enough to make me yelp. He shrugs off his jacket, letting it fall, and light catches the dark metal plates of his arm.

Hot stinging tears well up and roll down my temples, blurring my vision, but not before I see his fingers on the button of his jeans, popping it open.

“No,” I choke out. “No. Please, please, please —”

He has to move to shove his jeans down, has to let me go for a moment — a fresh wave of adrenaline surges up with sickening speed, and I scramble back, twist, flop onto my stomach — it’s graceless and uncoordinated but I’m not giving in, not yet. I’m army-crawling out from under the cage of his body and I’m almost free — almost — but before I can get up on my hands and knees he’s yanking my panties down.

Panic rises to a crescendo.

I shriek — thin and pathetic even to my own ears — too frantic to even see straight, and then my breath is punched from my lungs as his hand slams down between my shoulderblades and crushes me to the cold hard floor. I curl an arm around my head protectively, burying my face in the crook of my elbow, and I whimper into the dark space it makes, trying to hide from what’s about to happen.

My body is vibrating with tension like a rubber band about to snap, every muscle clenched so tight it hurts, and when I feel the blistering-hot pressure of his cock between my thighs I almost snap.

“Struggle all you want,” he growls. “Won’t make a difference.”

And it doesn’t make a difference. He shoves, and after a split-second of resistance he’s slamming into me with skull-rattling force. He grunts as he grinds in, working himself into me as deep as he can be.

The weight lifts from my upper back, and I suck in a desperate breath, only to sob it out again as he braces himself on his left hand and tangles the right in my hair. It stings, but somewhere along the line I’ve lost the ability to feel pain as pain; it’s only another sensation, and it’s eclipsed completely by the flint-to-tinder flare as he starts to move.

I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, but I can’t hold back a moan.

It’s too much, too fucking much, he’s too big, wrenching me apart, taking up every bit of space inside me and forcing me to accept the intrusion. There’s no rational thought left beyond I can’t take this.

There’s nothing rational about it, though.

Something catches and sparks — ignites — and wildfire licks up my spine before bursting out through every inch of me. It’s going to burn me alive, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

There’s nothing wrong with it, I try to tell myself, but shame slithers through my belly anyway.

I’ve never been this wet in my entire fucking life.

I’m breathing fast and panicked, I’m naked and squirming on the gritty floor, and it’s humiliating, and it hurts… but friction is friction, and my traitor of a body is slick and eager even though my rational brain is screaming for it to stop.

“Stop,” I choke out. “Stop, don’t —”

“Don’t what? Don’t make you come? Don’t make you admit how much you like this? Not fightin’ back any more, are you?”

I sob and shudder, squeezing helplessly around him. “Please.”

“Shit, can feel you gettin’ close — gotta see this,” he says, panting harshly, and then he’s pulling out, grabbing at my shoulder to flip me onto my back.

He hooks an arm up under my knee to open me up and drives in deep again, and I spasm around him, spine arching so forcefully my head slams back against the floor. He’s wild-eyed and wrecked, but he stops for the space of a jagged-edged inhale, pausing, slack-jawed with shock when I look dazedly up at him.

“Green,” I breathe, and slap him across the jaw with a crack.

He moans and surges forward all at once, hips snapping down, and the pleasure-pain coils tighter inside me, ratcheting up to new impossible heights.

I’m not going to stop fighting — not now, not ever, no matter how good it feels. I hit and scratch and claw, and when my nails catch on his cheek he gasps, rhythm faltering for the first time.

He’s scorching-hot, steely-hard, every thrust a solid filthy smack against my skin, a vicious stretch pushing me to my limit — and it hurts, it hurts, but the adrenaline makes the pain feel faint and distant, and the pleasure is raw and immediate and building (faster by the second) into something inescapable.

I can feel it starting to overwhelm me. My muscles are seizing up, but I’m fighting back on pure animal instinct, still. I grab him by the throat with one hand, pull his hair with the other, and his face is the last thing I see before my world dissolves: cheek bleeding from a rough scratch, features contorted, mouth open in a wide red O that’s somehow, unmistakably, a smile.

Bucky is breathing just as hard as I am, when I swim to the surface again.

We’re both drawing deep wet gulps of air, gasping on each exhale. I twine my arms around his neck limply, resting one palm between his shoulders so I can measure the rise and fall of his lungs.

I can’t bring myself to open my eyes, but I feel everything: every little tremor and twitch that goes through him, the slick warm tickle of aftershocks as he starts to go soft inside me. His face is buried against the side of my neck, and his right hand cups my cheek, so very gentle, thumb stroking my temple and wiping away tears. He kisses me softly where my pulse hammers under the skin.

My heart is racing, beating against my ribs like a wild bird caught in a cage, but my head seems very far away from the mess of my body.

I whimper when he pulls back, but he doesn’t go far, not yet — I can hear the barely-there rasp of fabric as he shifts.

“Can’t believe you’re still wearing pants,” I mumble, slurring like I’m drunk.

“Wearing is a generous word,” he says flatly.

It’s a weak impersonation of his usual deadpan snark, but I let out a cracked giggle, and for a hysterical second I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop giggling.

Bucky whispers, “Gonna get you up now, okay?”

He slides his hand under my head, cradling the back of my skull, and kisses my sweaty forehead before gathering me in his arms. He sits up carefully, pulling me against his chest and letting me burrow into the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

Then there’s a disorienting swoop of motion that means he’s standing up. I feel fragile and strange as he walks, like something inside me will break if it’s jostled, but I trust him to keep me safe. He nudges the barely-open bedroom door with his hip, easing us through it, and behind my closed lids the quality of the darkness changes as he steps toward the soft golden glow of my bedside lamp.

“Not going anywhere, just going to put you down for one second,” he warns me.

The comforter is already pulled back when he settles me on the bed, and he pulls it up around me, wrapping me up.

“Water,” he says quietly, holding the glass to my lips, and I sip carefully. “Juice? Something sweet?”

I shake my head. “Not yet.”

He steps back. I hear the soft thump of his shirt and jeans dropping to the floor, the click of his dog tags as he puts them back on, and then he’s sliding into bed next to me. I shift closer and trace the chain around his neck, touching the familiar imprint of letters in the metal.

My swollen lids are heavy when I open my eyes, and they sting when I finally look up at him, taking in his puffy parted lips and the red line of dried blood on his cheek where I scratched him. It’s already healing, it’ll be gone within a couple hours, but I brush my finger over it anyway, making an apologetic face.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. He clears his throat and swallows hard. “I’m the one who — I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry about. It was…”

I don’t know how to finish that sentence; I shrug, helpless, dizzy with the enormity of getting exactly what I wanted — of getting what I never thought I’d be able to ask for, let alone have.

His lashes are wet, his eyes shining in the low light, and that’s when it really starts to sink in. I shiver, and then I can’t stop shivering, and I curl forward, burying my face in his chest.

It’s hard to believe that the world is still turning and even harder to believe that he’s still here.

“God, sweetheart, you were incredible,” he whispers, voice breaking, wrapping me up in his arms and kissing the top of my head.

Shuddery, convulsive sobs wrack my body, one after another, and I don’t try to hold them back even though they’re so powerful I’m afraid they’ll crack my ribs on the way out. The tears are nothing to be ashamed of. It’s more like they’re physical evidence of shame leaving my body, purging it with each ugly sound wrenched from my throat.

I never would’ve said it out loud if we hadn’t stumbled into his violent fantasies. There’s nothing wrong with you, I told him, and I sounded so sure, but I still had a hard time believing it about myself. My rational mind knew that it was natural… but it was like knowing that the person who grabbed me tonight was the same man holding me now — it was like knowing he would never hurt me, but feeling my body panic anyway.

Bucky holds me, crooning nonsense fragments against my hair, until it subsides.

I sit up enough to look at him, and I’m conscious of how blotchy and swollen my face must be, but I let him brush away my tears. I feel soft and raw inside where I’d been holding all that guilt. Everything is starting to ache.

“God, we’re a mess,” I say thickly. He lets out a huff of laughter.

“I love you,” he blurts out. His eyes go a little wide, like that wasn’t what he intended to say.

“I love you too,” I say, wobbly but warm, and I duck my head again, resting with my ear over his chest to hear his heartbeat.

His sigh is long and shaky.

“Yeah, we’re a mess,” he whispers. “Feels good though. Feels human.”

fin.

N.B: If you’ve spent any amount of time around my masterlist, you probably will have noticed that one of my favorite subjects is the shame people (especially women) frequently feel about sex in general and their fantasies in particular. I also really love writing enthusiastic consent, and so in a way this is very different from anything I’ve written before.

I have trouble with the way a lot of fanfiction seems to glorify coercive or under-negotiated dom/sub scenes, and most so-called “dark” fic is triggery for me in its oversimplification of things like rape fantasies; they’re normal and common and natural, but frequently the way they’re written has the same flat, male-gaze approach as a lot of exploitative porn, which I hate. Rape has never been a fantasy for me personally (although it has been an actual life experience) but my #1 fantasy is finding the sort of trust and partnership and support that would make this sort of roleplay emotionally safe. I also just felt compelled to tackle the challenge of writing about something that is often considered so shameful, and writing about it in a way that neither romanticizes or demonizes it.

So. Yeah. In case you need a reminder: don’t punish your body for what it wants.

(If you liked this, please reblog or leave a message?)

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes smut #mcu #mcu fic #tw rape #tw: rape #consensual non-consent

259 notes · View notes

yanderenightmare · 4 years

Text

yandere ! BNHA headcannons

SLEEPING HABITS

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

goodiebag WARNINGS: dubcon, noncon, yandere, abuse, profanity, anxiety, arson, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, mind control

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

Bakugo respects sleep to the point of obsession. Always in bed before eight thirty, and though the thought of railing his little darling into the mattress is always a tempting thought, a long day of hero-work almost always calls for cuddles and sleep and nothing more and nothing less. He’s just so tired once he comes home, all sweaty and coated in smog with only one petite little gorgeous thing on his mind. He scarcely takes a shower before heading to bed, coming in through the door, grabbing his little darling wherever she is, whatever she’s doing going to waste or having to wait until the morning again, because there’s no chance in either heaven or hell she’s escaping what lock she’s been secured in under Bakugo’s arms, making quick work of shedding all clothes and brushing his teeth harshly in bare-minimum war-like effort, before scooping her up in his arms and collapsing in the bed with a bounce and a much needed groan.

He’ll have her on her side, spooning her, squeezing the breath from out of her lungs, his heavy heartbeats crashing and wreaking havoc through her ribs, hand harshly gripping onto her hip, pushing her ass firmly against his crotch, hissing each time she makes a move. This is how it always goes, every night, no exceptions. She’ll always be locked and pushed to his chest, guarding her as though he’s a dragon protecting his treasure. His breaths wafting close to her ear, those heavy growling huffs making her heart catch in her throat. He’ll breath in the scent of her hair, loving how flowery and serene her scent is as opposed to the smell of smoke and caramel. Finding it a perfect aroma to fall asleep to, pleasant dreams conjured by the associations it provides.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

Dabi can’t go to sleep without some sugar. But he too can come home tired after having over-exerted himself with the use of his blue flames, therefor sex isn’t always in the deck of cards for his darling once he comes home. Though, if she thinks she’s off the hook, she’s mistaken, there will be no sleep until he’s satisfied. He’s a selfish asshole about it too, pulling her up and his chest, hands cradling her ass, pinching the soft plump flesh as he makes her grind on him, his tongue and teeth coming to mark-up that pretty soft neck of hers, her soft timid whimpers enough to make him groan, wild energy surging through his loins, perhaps enough to persuade him in ripping those little panties off her anyways.

Afterwards he’ll be lying on his back, having her lie halfway on his chest. One hand stroking with slender fingers up and down her sides, loving how her goosebumps never fail in greeting him. On those days he wants more contact, he’ll swing her leg up over his torso, hand holding onto her ass-cheek, pulling her some further onto his chest. His heart fluttering in gratification as her small hands come to trace his itching aching scars, those careful curious blossom-tipped fingertips dancing over his marred skin, goosebumps of his own flushing the surface in reverence. His spine shivering as he falls ever so softly into sweet-dream sleep.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

Tomura’s sleep habit is sporadic, but despite being tired, his boyish horniness always outweighs his need for sleep. Actually, he finds he sleeps even better after having pumped what frustration the day had given him into his poor little darling. Having her jump up and down the length of his cock, or humping her silly into the mattress. However, he always prepares her first, loving to feel her quivering little thighs locked and spread with his face buried in what sweetness found between them, gorging himself in exploring what places has his darling going cross-eyed. His hungry-hearted curiosity making quick work of finding out which way to curl and scissor his fingers when burying his digits knuckle-deep inside her, feeling her spongy walls clench and flutter about him until her juices drip shamefully down his hand, a cocky smile stretched upon his face as he kisses her stomach. Her prepared slicked-up wet and velvety walls so eager to suck in his cock, the fluttering feel of her walls kissing his girth enough to have his toes cramping and eyes going wild.

He’ll be exhausted afterwards, and clingy, cradling her chest like a toddler. His face using her chest like a pillow, hand squeezing and tweaking at her nipple as though it were some plushie for him to drool over. His foot coming to cuddle and snake with hers until he feels perfectly comfortable. Snores quickly following suit as well as a satiated blissful smile stretched upon his face.

SHINSO HITOSHI

Nothing can help Hitoshi’s darling from doing whatever he wants, however he wants it, whenever he wants it. No amount of groveling, begging, pleading, crying, screaming will stop him. And, although he comes home multiple times throughout the day, having subjugated his darling to his will again and again for several hours on end, sex is still mandatory before she’s allowed to sleep. He’ll laugh as he clutches her mind in a choke-hold, having her focus on every single little movement he makes, making her tremble upon every feather-light touch he bestows upon her, watching her eyes wrench shut upon every vein and bump and ridge as he pinches her clit between his callous fingers, watching as she loses count of how many times he’s made her cum in the span of the mere last hour.

He’ll be a real cocky, manipulative, degrading asshole during their entire play-session, but when it comes to cuddles he’ll wipe the shit-eating grin off his face and kiss her temple softly, stroking and petting her hair as he whispers sweet little nothings into her ear. Still a smidge of cockiness evident in his otherwise awe-struck tone. Limbs flung over and under each other, thoroughly entangled in an intricate and comfortable knot, coated with sweat. He’ll release whatever hold he had on her mind once their done, happy to see her comfort herself in his chest, soft sighs sounding from her small frame, in contrast to watching her pathetically try and snake her way from out of his hold.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

Poor darling. She’s lucky she can still stand on some days throughout the week. Praying, wishing and screaming at whomever might be listening, whomever might be in charge of her fate other than Keigo has become like ritual before going to bed. Her prayers are never answered though. It’s a cruel joke, a game, a satire, some form of heaven yet some form of hell. How he comes to her in the shape of an angel, similar to the ones she’s been praying to, only he answers her prayers in whichever way he wants. He’ll have her for hours on end in prayer stance, kneeling, clinging to him as though he were a life-line. He’ll have her slipping in and out of consciousness, with his almighty hands guiding her every movement where she’s grown too tired to do as much as lift a finger in protest, where all that leaves her mouth are cute incomprehensible sounds.

But even he gets exhausted after a while, after a long, long while of snapping his hips forward, jutting into his poor little baby-bird. Sometimes, if he still has the energy, he’ll lay them both in the bath, message whatever strain gathered in her shoulders away, have her melt against him, but on most days: he’ll simply wrap both his wings around her sweat-slicked glowing dewy body, inhale the sweet scent of their love and nuzzle into her neck, whisper small cooing praises and adorations, holding onto her as though she’s absolution, drifting off to sleep while feeling the spontaneous remnants of himself spasm and jolt through her.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Izuku uses everything with purpose, as a lesson, as a reminder, as a threat, as a weapon. Sex is no exception. Does his little darling not understand her place, he’ll gladly teach her. Does his little darling forget who she belongs to, he’ll gladly remind her. Does his little darling think she can leave, does she think she can survive on her own, does she really think she’ll breath better without him? She’ll soon be preaching otherwise while clamping down around the girth of his cock, with his swollen cockhead kissing her cervix each time he pushes into her. He’ll have her screaming, crying, begging for forgiveness, and being the forgiving hero that he is, he’ll allow her rest if she tells him one more time what she’s done wrong and make him believe that she’ll never do something like it ever again through promise upon promise upon tearful promise.

He’ll allow her rest when he’s convinced she’s learned her lesson, where after he’ll always draw a bath before sleeping, carrying her to the water and letting her soak while he changes the bedsheets. He’ll be sweet then, still stern and domineering and intimidating, but refraining from being harsh and brute and cruel. He’ll have her lying on his chest every night, legs secured between his, large hands propping her into position if she slides off or tries shifting, having her ask for permission to leave the bed to do simple things such as using the bathroom. His hand running through her hair, large enough to capture her entire skull in his palm, enough to make her fear sleeping yet enough to make her feel lonely when she wakes up without him.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

On days where Kai is content, or at least something akin to the feeling, all he wants is to cherish sweet moments with his darling. Soft-tinted cuddles in bed where silence is a type of peace that makes his soul feel light like dandelion-fluff. But, days where the hours has spared Kai of the worlds ugliness, sickness and depravity are few and far between. Meaning, it’s not often he comes home content. And when he’s aggravated, when everything feels sporadic and irate and static and like pure and utter chaos, there’s only one thing that can make him feel collected again, like he’s in charge, in control, and that’s having his little darling beneath him with his cock tearing through her, it’s seeing those gorgeous watery eyes look up at him through a thick veil of plead, it’s having her innocence wrapped around his fingers.

It’s soothing, though it looks like punishment, though it looks like torture, it’s the only way he can find peace. Afterwards, lying face to face, tangled together, limbs an artwork of intense and passionate knotwork, his shallow breaths turning to long-felt satisfied inhales and exhales. Feeling the cleanliness of her trembling flesh beneath his fingertips, having her small breakable defenseless body tight against his, the drums of her heartbeats dancing against the thunder-claps residing in his own chest, droplets of tears hanging off her eyelashes as her gem-like orbs look up at him, his hand on her waist. It’s reassuring knowing that perfection still exists in a world devoid of order.

TODORKI SHOTO

Shoto would play all day everyday if he could, but he can’t, which makes the pressure on those hours in which he can play that much more crucially vital. Yet, knowing what’s to come doesn’t mean his darling ever knows what to expect when the night conquers the sky. She’ll be counting the seconds until she hears the front-door unlock, the click sending gunshots to ricochet through her ribs. She’ll hear his booted footsteps on the stone-floors, notice her breathing turning grim and shallow, feeling the beating pitter pattering of her heart in her head, and then she’ll feel him outside the conjuring of her own fears, she’ll feel his slender petal-veined finger gliding up her leg or shoulder, tangling in her hair, his firm lips pressing softly against her forehead, her crippling fear and the rushing of blood boiling past her ears rendering all sounds incomprehensible.

Her mind knows what to expect, what to dread, what to prepare for, but her body never seems to learn. He’ll bite, he’ll claw, he’ll strangle, long digits curling and scissoring in places too deep for her to ever even dream of reaching. Cold then hot then cold and hot or hot and cold or frostbitten and boiling. She always falls asleep with a fever. Cradled and comforted in the same arms that caused her unraveling, her eyes opium-blown as she stares blankly up at him, falling deeper and drowning in chromatic galaxies. Her whole body cold and sweat-slicked and breathless and overwhelmed with Shoto’s inescapable embrace, whether she’s lying beneath him or on top of him or curled up against his chest, she’s not allowed to breath her own air when with him.

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

1K notes · View notes

author-morgan · 4 years

Text

Title: Silver Moonlight

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: Arthur stumbles into one of your dig sites and your heart.

Two day late Christmas present ficlet for my good friend, @dynamicorbit. Also tagging @kvitravn and @wolfxkissed because, Arthur.

THE DIG SITE bustles with activity under the cool Colorado sun, but the day’s hours are slipping by. Stretching your back and legs, you crouch back down next to a boulder of red sandstone and begin working at it again with a hammer and chisel —stopping only to brush away the dust. Just north of Morrison was a treasure trove of dinosaur fossils and boundless discoveries. Spending the rest of your days digging the area would likely see your budding career to retirement and old age.

Loose gravel crunches under heavy footfalls, but you pay no mind to them —the site is crawling with paleontologists and rock-hounds looking for a quick buck. The shadow of a wide-brimmed hat blocks the sun as someone kneels beside you and rests a hand on your shoulder. “Watcha doin’, darlin’?” A low, rasping, and familiar voice asks.

“Arthur!” Dropping the chisel and hammer, you clutch the buttons on your stained shirtwaist. “One time, my heart might stop beating,” you tell him, pushing back on his shoulder despite the joy of seeing him again.

He hardly ever announces his arrival —instead, he’s keen on sneaking up behind you and scaring the living daylights out of you. His lips curve into a smile as he reaches out, cupping your sweat-slicked cheek for a quick moment. “Pray that never happens then,” Arthur says with a wink.

“Mind your boots,” you remind him. Dig sites were delicate things, and you didn’t need him stomping around without a care. He crouches down next to you again, looking over your shoulder at the blackened bone slowly being revealed. The last time he found you hunched over a pile of rock and bone you told him it was an Allosaurus and showed him a tooth as long as his forefinger.

Arthur didn’t know a damned thing about dinosaurs or paleontology beyond what you tried explaining to him one night —albeit the whiskey probably didn’t help. It doesn’t matter much if he understood everything or not, seeing your smile and the twinkle in your eye when you spoke about fossils and postulates was something he would never tire of. All his efforts to remain aloof are in vain, for Arthur is smitten with you. “What’re you diggin’ up this time?” He asks.

You glance at the exposed bones chiseled from the stone and reach for your notebook, making a quick annotation and sketching a complete picture of the vertebrae. The backend of this particular specimen was missing, but a handful of yards away, one of the professors from Harvard was working on cleaning a dismembered tail that looked about the right size to match. “I think it’s what Professor Marsh described as a Stegosaurus.” You point toward a line of wide and flat bony plates you spent the last month working on. “See those?” Arthur nods.

He listens to your ramblings until the sky turns and you pack away your tools and notes, leading him to your small wall tent at the south end of the site. It’s been months since you last saw Arthur Morgan —roaming the plains and running from the law. Somehow his path always leads back to you, whether you’re digging bones or taking a day’s break in a town in the middle of nowhere. Arthur has a habit of knowing right where to find you, even in the open expanse of the American West. He stokes the small campfire, the golden flames mixing with the silver light of a full moon.

You spare a longer glimpse of him —his beard is thicker than last you saw, his hair longer and tinged with the first hints of gray. “C’mere–” you smile, pulling on his dark neckerchief, unable to resist the urge to kiss him any longer. He’s quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders, chasing away the space between your lips as your fingers slide into the hair at the back of his neck.

Arthur wraps an arm around your waist, drawing you onto his lap with a crooked smile. For all the nights spent under the stars, he never feels at ease until he’s with you. It stirs a feeling in his gut and heart that he wishes he could stamp out, but the sparks had taken to flames long ago. You and Arthur make for a strange duo —an academic and an outlaw. He stares up at you when you take his rugged face into your hands, thumb running across the scars on his chin.

You take his hat off, musing his dark locks. In turn, he reaches behind you, pulling two silver pins from your hair —fingers running through frazzled twists and messy braids. “What’ve you been up to?” You ask, kissing the corner of his lips to feel the tickle of his beard against your cheek.

“The usual,” he responds —raising hell and laying low. The Pinkertons chased him out of Oklahoma, and he wasn’t keen on seeing them again anytime soon. He followed the words on the wind and wound up near Morrison, Colorado, with you sitting on his lap —not caring about the things he'd done, only that he was back within an arm’s reach. “Ever made love under the stars?” Arthur asks, lips brushing over your jaw.

“I haven’t,” you answer, knowing by the look in his dark blue eyes that’s about to change. He bends his knee, wedging his thigh between yours —the soft whimper you make quieted by his sloppy kiss as his lips move across your cheek and down your neck.

Arthur fumbles with the pearl buttons of your shirtwaist, sliding the calico fabric down your arms with a low groan upon seeing the pale pink satin corset laying beneath. You stifle a laugh, knowing how much he dislikes the slow process of lacing and unlacing your corsets —a handful of times practicing had only resulted in a marginal increase in speed of which he could take one off. “One day,” he starts, loosening the laces, “I’m just gonna cut this damn thing off you.” You shake your head, laughing at his impatience.

Peeling the corset away, he tosses it toward the open entrance of your tent, and his rough hands find your breasts while you push the suspenders off his shoulders, fingers working the buttons of his stripped blue-flannel shirt until it hangs open. Arthur is a sturdy man —barrel-chested and broad of shoulder— built for fighting and fucking. His hand slips beneath the hem of your walking skirt, bunching the material up around your waist as his fingers find the wet heat between your thighs. Two fingers slip into your heat, curling, and stroking —Arthur watches your face twist in pleasure as he feels you grind down on his hand, the heel of his palm pressed against your clit.

As skilled as his fingers are, you want him. Pushing his hand away, you quickly do away with your skirt and settle down astride his lap again. He groans, low and deep enough you can feel his chest vibrating against yours and bucks his hips —clothed cock pressing against your bare cunt. You both reach for his belt at the same time, but he swats your hands away with a dry chuckle that’s quickly silenced when you kiss him.

Arthur lifts his hips from the ground, hastily pushing his pants down and freeing his hard cock —he’s thick and ribbed with throbbing veins from base to tip.

He lays back, head resting on his balled-up shirt with you straddling him, and his dark pants pushed down to his knees. The silver moonlight highlighting the slick wetness between your thighs. Arthur mutters something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, but the lusty glint in his eyes says enough. You reach behind you —fingers wrapping around his cock. His eyes slip close, lips parting as you stroke him, stopping only to lift your hips and drag his cock through your folds.

You moan softly as you start to sink on his length. The head of his cock stretching you slowly. Arthur’s hands slip from your breasts to your hips, urging you down until you’re filled —thighs flush with his hips. You still for a moment, readjusting to his girth but slowly start to grind your hips into his. “What a sight,” Arthur muses as you pick up your pace, riding him lazily as he fondles your breasts, tweaking one of your nipples.

Up and down, still, but with a bit of a rolling motion helping you hit every sweet spot that makes your body tremble and breathe his name like some kind of prayer. It’s been too long since you felt this —since he felt this. He can tell you’re close, teetering on the edge of the abyss because he is too. Arthur reaches between your bodies, fingers pressing against your clit and rubbing quick circles —hissing when your walls flutter and tighten around his cock. “Arthur,” you choke, head hanging forward. The Seraphs of Heaven could have raptured the world, and they would find you riding Arthur in the silver moonlight, lips parted in a silent cry and nails digging into his chest —not a care in the world.

Bracing your weight on bent forearms next to his head, you crane your neck down. Lips ghosting over his as your body buzzes with your release, walls still pulsating around his cock. He pushes himself up, sealing his lips to yours —tongue parting your lips just as he pushes his hips up into yours to chase his own end. Arthur bends his knees, planting his feet on the ground, and begins to buck his hips up into you, faster than you had been riding him. He pulls another ragged moan from your parted lips, mixing with his grunts and groans.

You cling to his shoulders as he ruts up into you, gently biting down on his shoulder to quieten your moans if only to hear his. He lets out a strangled groan when his hips stutter in their rhythm, stilling deep inside you as his cock twitches, filling you with warmth.

Arthur lays back again, holding you against his chest as he kicks off his boots and pants —laying just as bare as you now. A moment passes, your breathing and hearts synchronized. “I’ll volunteer for the supply run,” you tell him, chin propped up on his chest, fingers brushing through the dark hair on his chest. Before the week’s end, a small group would head back to town for fresh supplies, enough to last another week or so. You always enjoyed helping with the runs. It meant a night at the inn on a bed instead of a cot and a proper bath. “We can stay a night or two in Morrison.”

Arthur runs his fingertips up and down your spine —a different kind of smile playing on his lips in the silver and gold light. “You know darlin’, I was thinkin’ bout stayin’ a while,” he says, watching for your reaction. “If you’ll have me, that is,” he adds.

Smiling, you press your lips against the bottom of his chin, laying your head against his chest again, listening to the beat of his heart. “Of course, I’ll have you,” you tell him. Arthur Morgan may not have been a good man, but he certainly wasn’t a bad one either, and it just so happened that when he first stumbled upon you at a dig site several years ago, he’d stumbled into your heart too. You’d keep him with you for the rest of your days if you could. “I missed you.” He wraps an arm around you, holding you tight to his chest. “Even with that ugly mug,” you laugh.

He echoes your laughter —you can feel the low rumble rising from deep in his chest. Arthur turns his cheek, lips brushing against your forehead before settling back under the stars with a soft sigh. It feels good to be home.

#Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x Reader #Arthur Morgan Fanfiction #Arthur Morgan Smut #Red Dead Redemption 2 #my writing #every time I write anything remotely geology related I go ham #anyways #u can fact check me but I promise the first stegosaurus was found near Morrison #and professor marsh was apart of the bone wars #so many dinos so little time #god to be able to work in the golden day of paleontology

418 notes · View notes

beggingwolf · 3 years

Note

sidgeno: soulmate AU + erotic dreams

Sid's standing at a river.

He thinks it's a river. It feels half-formed. He can feel the rumble of the water under his feet. If he doesn't move, the flash flood is going to swell to his soles, ankles, knees, and sweep him away.

"Beautiful," he hears. It doesn't sound right. The word twists in his ears, and a large hand wraps around his elbow, pulling him a step back up onto the bank. "Careful."

Sid wakes up with a gasp. Across the room, the little blue S on his wall has fallen to the floor with a crack. It's his last night at home before he ships out to Minnesota. He'd heard his mom crying after Taylor had gone to bed.

Sid reaches up to touch his elbow. He can still feel the ghostly touch, heavy and strong.

Sid stays up for another hour, thinking it over. Replaying the sound of beautiful over and over again, even though that's not how it sounded in the dream.

He closes his eyes. He tries to say goodbye to home. He tries to push off the dream; he doesn't have the time to think about it, not now, not when—

"Beautiful," Sid hears. He lets out a shuddering breath. The hands are everywhere. There's a heavy weight between his legs. There's pressure on his stomach, on his chest. A mouth pressing to his neck. He needs to move. He needs to be touched, he—

The pillow hits his face hard.

"Take it to the showers, Croz!" Duncs groans, his bedsprings creaking as he rolls to turn his back on Sid from across the room.

Sid's face grows hot as he fumbles at his blankets. He slips out of bed, feet hitting the linoleum floor with a loud smack, and he grabs the first article of clothing on the ground—a hoodie, fine, that's fine—before making a break for the hall.

The light of the hallway is blinding, and Sid stumbles to the bathrooms to lock himself in a shower stall and breathe.

His boxers are wet.

Sid shudders on his next inhale. It's been... it's been so long since this has happened, but not like this, never with that voice in his ears or the feeling of a body that's bigger than his covering him so completely.

Sid's been looking at his teammates too much lately. He's been thinking about how tall Matty is, how he's got a wicked smile and a stupid laugh that rivals Sid's own.

"Fuck," Sid whispers to himself. It echoes off the yellowing tile.

Soulmates, Sid learned early, don't account for everything.

His mother told him that she'd had dreams of the Eastern Shore back at the height of the whaling trade. She'd remembered the scent of blubber burning, how his father's clothes would stink of blood and salt after he'd return from a voyage.

She had older ones, too. Ones of living in a cramped house in an old country with too many mouths to feed, spending her days working in a horrible factory and sneaking away to find a sweetheart in a back alley.

Older than that, even: one of his aunts liked to claim she could remember as far back to before electricity was discovered. His mom fondly told her sister she was full of shit, but Sid always wondered.

Then there was his grandmother, who never talked about soulmates at all. She was happy with Kenny, but Sidney knew Kenny was not his grandfather by blood. His grandmother was tight-lipped about it, even when the family was swapping dream-memories with each other like cards over the dinner table.

"Soulmates can mean a lot of things," Sid's uncle had told him out on the patio later. "Sometimes they're just the person that leaves the most scars on you."

Years later, as Sid tries to keep his eyes to himself in the locker room, he finally understands how his love could leave him with more scars than he could count.

It's a gentle touch to his hair. Long fingers playing in the curls. They're too long. They're always too long, it's not presentable, it's not to code, but war is cruel and bloody and Sid's fucking hair is the least of his concerns.

"Morning, beautiful," a low voice rasps to him. The words are tilted like they always are, but Sid understands. He always understands.

He turns, eyes still closed, and reaches out.

Lips connect with his. There's a dusting of pathetic stubble on both of their faces. The dry, cracked lips he's kissing are still the best thing he's ever felt.

"My watch shift's almost over," Sid whispers. His throat is hoarse, because last night he'd—god, he'd taken the whole length down, and it had felt good and powerful and if he died today he'd be okay with it, he thinks. The war has taken so much. At least he had this. "I need to go back."

"Stay," is murmured up against his mouth. The lips move up to press against his forehead, and the hand in his hair tangles in it, pulls him closer, drags him against a strong body, long legs tangling with his own.

He can feel a hardness pressing into his thigh, and he cracks open his eyes.

His head smacks against glass.

"Shit!" Sid snaps, jerking upright as the bus rolls over another curb.

"Sorry, fellas!" the driver calls, and there's an ugly chorus of groans from the Rimouski Oceanic.

"Jesus," Sid grunts, shifting back upright in his seat, yanking his backpack onto his lap. His skull is still rattling from the rude awakening, and he's achingly hard.

It's a small mercy he has the row to himself. He leans back and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the pain radiating from his head, and his hip where that stupid fucking Moosehead had laid into him, and his tweaked wrist from two weeks ago in Chicoutimi. The street lamps they drive under flare his eyelids pink and then black, again and again.

As he slows his breaths, the urgency fades out of his bloodstream. He's not hard up for it anymore. He's just sore.

More than the feeling of a heavy cock pressed against his leg, Sid misses the gangly arms that had been wrapped around him. He'd had to make out with a girl at a house party before they'd left for Halifax. The team had gotten too nosy, their teasing of Sid's prudishness tipping from "hilarious novelty" to "prying questions," and Sid had swallowed his anxiety and used it as fuel to find a girl and pull her into a corner in full view of half of the blue line and press his lips to hers.

It had felt deeply wrong.

He tries to keep his breaths even as he thinks about how right his dream had felt, and how that deep, sleep-weary voice sits in his skull like it belongs there.

Sid pulls his goalie pads off. His eye is swollen shut from the puck he took to the face in the second period; it happens once every few months, and it's incentive to be faster. He laughs as the team around him starts cracking open beers. Their captain lights a cigarette and leans back in his stall with a grin. They're on fucking fire, and they're going out on the town tonight.

Sid comes back home drunk. Drunk and happy and dumped unceremoniously on the steps of his Montreal townhome by his teammates, who cheerfully wave at Sid's roommate.

Sid's roommate.

Sid's roommate picks Sid up. Sid's roommate peels off his clothes slowly. Sid's roommate leads him to bed, where he tucks himself into the cave he makes out of Sid's chest.

Sid's roommate, who grinds back against Sid. Sid groans. He can't get it up, not like this, and his roommate laughs, a low noise, and tells him in the morning—in the morning they'll have some fun, he'll reward Sid exactly how he deserves.

Sid wakes up alone.

They've lost the Memorial Cup. He's still in London. He's not playing for the Habs in their glory days. He's not playing for anyone right now. The season is over. Tomorrow he gets to go home. He gets to hope the draft goes on.

He feels very small and lonely in his hotel bed.

The night before the draft, Sid dreams about getting fucked.

He's goddamn lucky Jack sleeps harder than the dead. He's goddamn lucky in so many ways, because he feels those big hands push his legs up, his thighs pressing into his stomach. He feels those chapped lips drag against his neck, his chest, his cock. He feels those long hands stretching him open.

He takes every inch. He gets fucked within an inch of his life. He's held down by that powerful body and he's never wanted something this bad, because it's good and right and he wants it more than anything. He's had it before, in another time, and Sid tells himself he'll find it again someday, he has to.

He comes so hard he cries.

Jack's still asleep when Sid wakes up and ducks into the bathroom. He lets the shower rain scalding water down onto him as he wipes the cum off of his hips.

Sid plays hockey in Pittsburgh.

He kisses a man for the first time. It's not his soulmate. He can tell; the man's fingers are too stubby, but he has wide shoulders and a smart smile and it feels good.

It leads to him getting his dick sucked. That's good too.

The dreams don't stop. He's in rural Canada. He's in some ancient country that looks foreign. He's in a busy city center that looks nothing like anywhere Sid has ever been.

He's always wrapped in those long arms, holding those delicate-looking, strong hands.

It's his second season, the morning after another dream—a bad one, where Sid had been old and arthritic and holding a cold hand in his—when Mario looks up from the morning newspaper and tells Sid Malkin will finally be getting in from Los Angeles that evening.

"It's been long enough, he should be out of his contract by the time camp starts," Mario says. "We'll have him over for dinner tonight, I think."

Sid doesn't dress up, but he does put on jeans and combs his hair in the bathroom before Malkin and his translator arrive. He should look presentable, he figures. They want to make him captain. He should make a good impression, especially after all that Malkin's been through.

The doorbell rings, and Sid hustles down the three flights of stairs to get to the foyer.

Malkin's big. Lanky, really, and golden from the California sun. He looks tired but happy, and he's staring at Mario with big eyes and a bigger grin, his chapped lips stretched wide. Sid knows the feeling well.

Malkin turns his gaze to Sid, and something wobbles in Sid's chest.

"Evgeni Malkin," he says, offering a handshake to Sid.

His palm is huge. His fingers are long and handsome.

Sid swallows and takes his hand.

#[sucks teeth] so this was probably more emotional than you were asking for #ficlet

96 notes · View notes

traekenimagines · 3 years

Text

Hunting Season, Part Nineteen: A Theo Raeken Imagine

Request from Anon: I’m new here I just read your rules for requesting before I requested anything because I didn’t want to request something and you not be able to do it but can I get a smut imagine for Theo obviously where the reader has been acting up all day and he gets tired of it and he takes her home and punishes her but if your not comfortable with writing something like that then you can just surprise me with anything

You guys know the drill, it’s Hunting Season. Hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x

When Y/N excused herself to go to the bathroom, she had no intention of using it. She smiled to herself as she locked the cubicle, hitching up her skirt and pushing her underwear to the side. She pulled out her phone, and hit record on the camera, making sure that there was a full view of what was between her legs.

She stroked at her folds as she recorded, moaning more than she really needed to in order to get her point across, before sending the video to her desired recipient. Theo was outside, and it wasn’t the first video he had received that day, with the message I wish this was your cock attached to each file. She adjusted her clothes, before unlocking the cubicle and washing her hands.

When she came back outside, she saw Theo looking at his phone, saw the familiar bulge in his jeans as he took a glance at the message she’d sent. He looked over at her, glaring, and she smiled sweetly, innocently.

Y/N hadn’t wanted to be here in the first place, thought Theo had established his place in the McCall pack perfectly well without spending the day with them. She remembered how only that morning she had attempted to keep him in bed, palming his cock through his sweatpants.

But he hadn’t given in, and so as punishment, she had decided to tease him. A single touch here, a voice message of her moaning there, a video of her doing all manner of things to herself now. She knew that when she got home, she would pay for her sins, but that was exactly what she was planning on.

She leaned against the door of the truck as Theo excused himself from the pack, and she caught the words of his farewell with a smile, a wetness growing between her legs. Theo strode over to her, grabbing her arm tightly and pulling her towards him. “You should have thought about what you’ve been doing, Y/N. Because I really didn’t want to do this,” he snarled in her ear, and she squirmed in his grip, thighs rubbing together in an attempt to gain some relief from the pain between her legs. “Get in the car.”

Y/N did as she was told, and saw from the stoic expression on Theo’s face that there was no point in trying to have him in the driver’s seat. So she waited patiently, anticipating what would meet her when she got home.

Y/N followed Theo into their bedroom, eyes trained on his back, never leaving the spot between his shoulder blades as he pulled his shirt over his head. The silence between them was deafening, and Y/N supposed she should have been afraid. But there was that growing arousal between her legs, an ache that only intensified as he turned to face her, skin on show. He grabbed her chin, and forced her to look at him. She bit her bottom lip, needing him to touch her. “You want to misbehave, Y/N? Well, I guess I’d better show you what happens when you do.” He let go of her. “Strip.”

It was a single word, a command that had Y/N pulling off her clothes, and the bulge in Theo’s jeans growing. She was naked as Theo walked around her, as if examining her when he already knew every inch of her body so well. She expected him to slap her ass, to place a bruising kiss on her neck, so was surprised when he sat in the chair in the corner of the room, unbuckling his jeans and pulling his cock out.

That. That was what she had wanted. She wanted it in her mouth, in her core, anywhere it was possible. Almost on reflex, Y/N fell to her knees, ready to take Theo’s cock in her mouth, when he grabbed her hair, pulling her head back. He smirked. “I know you want this, I know you want me fucking that mouth of yours, you’ve been telling me all day. And you will, but first, you need to be punished, Y/N. Do you understand?” He grabbed his cock, positioning it against her lips, tempting her. “You’re going to do what I say. Exactly what I say.”

When she didn’t answer, Theo reached down, tweaking one of her nipples. “I need an answer, Y/N.”

“I’ll do exactly what you say. I promise.”

Theo’s thumb circled around her nipple and she resisted the urge to moan. “Good girl. Now,” he let go of her, leaning back in the chair, “you’ve been showing me just how capable you are of pleasuring yourself all day. How about you do that now for me?”

Y/N stood, wetness already dripping down her legs. With shaky hands, she did as she was told, stroking at her folds. She never took her eyes off Theo who was looking at her as if she was the most fascinating thing in the world, stroking his cock as he maintained eye contact. She wanted that cock in her, wanted to feel it stretching her out, wanting to feel it harden inside of her as he came. So she accepted her punishment graciously, slipping two fingers inside of her.

As she began to pump them in and out, she noticed how Theo’s movements of his own sped up. She could see the bead of liquid forming on his tip, wanted to lick it off herself, wanted to feel it sliding down her throat. Theo caught her looking, and he grinned. “Tell me when you’re coming, Y/N.”

She could feel the release begin to build in her stomach, and told Theo as much. She knew what he was planning before he said it, but still felt the unfairness as he told her to stop, to hold it, whilst continuing to work at himself.

She rubbed her legs together, desperate for some friction, whining as Theo came, the essence of his release on his hand. She needed to feel that same release, but knew she wouldn’t be until he had decided. That was part of the thrill, spurring her on.

When Theo had finished, he walked over to her. “I know you want to taste me, Y/N, and you’ve been good so far, so I guess it won’t hurt.” She opened her mouth as he pressed his fingers against her lips, taking them into her mouth greedily. She tasted him, looking at Theo through hooded lashes as he fucked her mouth with his fingers.

He withdrew them, uttering another command. “On the floor. On your hands and knees.”

Y/N did as she was told, listening to the sound of Theo discarding his jeans and boxers. She moaned as she felt him press against her, his hands sliding over her ass. One reached up, twisting in her hair and pulling her head back. “You’re so wet, Y/N. Are you going to come the moment I enter you? Or are you going to hold it back until I come inside of you?” He nudged his cock against her entrance. “Do you want to me to fuck you with my cock, Y/N? Do you want me to bury myself inside of you? Do you think I’ve punished you enough and that I should just take you now? Like this? Like an animal?”

Y/N moved against him, desperate. He pulled her head back just a little more.

“I’m going to need another answer, Y/N.”

“Fuck me, Theo. Fuck me with your cock. I love your cock so fucking much. I want to come all over it, and I want your come inside of me.”

Theo hummed as if contemplating.

And then he slammed into her.

Y/N screamed, a guttural sound that came from the back of her throat. One of Theo’s hands remained wrapped in her hair, another on the small of her back, nails digging into her as he fucked her. There would be bruises in the morning, but she didn’t care, not when she could feel him inside of her, every inch of him sliding in and out of her, beckoning her release to reach its peak.

Theo showed no signs of slowing down, only an pure animal desire fuelling him as he buried himself inside of her. He felt Y/N clench around him, and even then, as she came over him, the product of her release enveloping his cock, dripping down her legs, he didn’t slow down.

He didn’t slow down until he had done what she wanted, until he hardened inside of her, roaring as he came.

And then it was over. Just like that, a moment of punishment, of pure unadulterated filth became something intimate. Theo leaned over Y/N, placing a kiss on the back of her neck as he slid out of her. He watched as her knees buckled, as she twisted around and laid on her back on the floor. Her hair fanned out around her face, her legs open and tempting him more.

She smiled as she looked up at him, satisfaction on her face. She reached an arm up and Theo’s fingers brushed hers as he walked past. He would go to shower now, as he always did and she was half-tempted to join him.

But her legs were aching, and she needed a moment to gain her breath.

She was still on the floor when Theo came back, still staring at the ceiling lost in a land of bliss.

As he knelt between her legs, placing his mouth over her core, he joined her.

Hunting Season Masterlist

Masterlist

#teen wolf #teen wolf smut #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf imagine #theo raeken #theo raeken imagines #theo raeken imagine #theo raeken smut #theo raeken x reader #hunting season #cody christian

102 notes · View notes

honeytama · 4 years

Text

Give Me More

7 Minutes | Part Two

Tomura Shigaraki X Fem!Reader

A/N: Part Two of his section in this post! I recommend reading it for some context, but the fic can be read on it’s own.

Requested by @lilli-chae

Summary: Shigaraki leaves you humiliated and alone after your time together in the closet. Only to sneak into your bedroom at a vulnerable moment to ask for more of your time.

Warnings: Smut (18+), mention of humiliation, squirting, overstimulation, light breath play

Word Count: 1.9k

Pulling your pajama sweats up from your thighs, you hope and pray all of the others outside have left to sleep after hearing your boss defiling your body through the door of the closet. Glancing over your shoulder, you spot Tomura zip up the fly of his dark jeans and press down the front of his black v-neck shirt. He looks up from fixing himself and all you can do is whip your head around to look away. He seems unfazed; he seems upset even.

The entire time, he was so smug and hungry to cum into your tight sex, but now his face is blank. He shifts his body while waiting impatiently for you to leave the tiny room.

You take a deep breath before turning the handle of the door and peeking out the slit to the living area. The room is silent, but all of them are still there.

The League watches in awe while you exit the closet with your head down in shame. Your mouth feels dry, but sweat forms quickly around your neck. You feel totally humiliated that they all heard his hips smack against your ass and you cry out his name. You know he won’t say anything to help the situation. Yet, Tomura follows closely behind you.

“Going to bed, clean the living room up when you’re done,” he hisses while walking past you and the rest of your friends.

You watch your boss climb the stairs with his head down.“Me too, I— uh, I’m tired. Have fun, though,” you say in a soft, broken voice and escape to your bedroom upstairs once you see Tomura’s body disappear in full.

Only once you reach the upstairs, away from the others and Tomura locked in his room, are you able to recollect yourself. You lean your body against the wall of the hallway and search your body with your hands. Subconsciously, you try to make yourself aware of any injuries, or absence of necessary body parts. But, you’re all intact.

Your boss, and eldest one-sided friend, is able to hurt people with the touch of a hand, but even after ravaging every inch of you with his fingers, you’re completely fine. Your mind reels thinking if he was intentional in keeping you safe. He could have used you and then destroyed any trace of the encounter happening. But, you’re fine... and horny.

No way did he think you would cum within that amount of time, especially thrusting so shallowly and frantically. However, thinking about the successes of your boss’s sexual history was not on the agenda for tonight. Going back to your room, and climbing into bed with a toy and fantasies about him are on the agenda.

—

You lie in bed nude. Your soft, cotton sheets tickle your chest and stomach while laying underneath them. The feeling of the material brushing against your nipples with every movement reminds you of his touch.

His fingers pulled and pinched at your nubs roughly while he humped his weeping cock into your cunt. His entire palm, and a couple of fingers, massaged one of your breasts while he took you from behind.

“Mmm,” you reach a hand under the blanket and get straight to work. You don’t feel tired, but the build-up of heat and arousal between your legs begs for release.

While fucking into you, he pulled both of your wrists behind you with one hand while placing the other around the front of your neck. You remember his words after he groaned your name into your ear, “Your slutty cunt feels so good. Do you think about us like this?” You had nodded while your breath was being taken away. “Good girl.”

Your other hand trails up your chest towards your neck. You try to remember how he had done it in the closet. So practiced. He had no plans to hurt you. Your fingers wrap softly around your throat while you rub your puffy clit eagerly.

“Tomura,” you whimper.

“Keep going,” you hear a raspy voice. The man whose name you’d just called out for so lewdly is just inside the door.

“Oh my god,” you squeak while pulling the sheet up to cover your mouth. Anything to hide your embarrassment. “I thought— I locked the door?” your legs feel like they could start shaking underneath the thin sheet. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to ask you a question,” he stalks closer towards the edge of your bed. “I was going to ask if you liked what I had... done... downstairs, but I think I know your answer now,” he gives with a wide toothy smile.

“You know I like you, Tomura, everyone does. So yeah, I liked what we did,” you say in a soft voice.

He’s right in your face now. Hovering over you, he reaches for the cotton sheet and pulls it carefully down your face. “Enough to try some more, darling?”

You search his ruby eyes for any sign of lie or rouse. Is he trying to embarrass you? Humiliate you again? Pushing the thoughts aside, you go for you want, it’s him.

You nod and bite your lip. “I want you.”

He tugs his shirt over his head and unzips his pants quickly before throwing both articles of clothing into the corner of your room. Your eyes lock into several dark circular shapes in his navy blue underwear. A mixture of precum and your juices from earlier that night stain the front.

Lifting the sheet, he moves under it with you. You watch him in awe as he spreads your legs by his hands hooking under thighs so he can kneel in between them. The sheet hangs around his neck while he settles himself between in your opening. The waistband of his boxer briefs is pulled away from his erect prick and then pulled down to let it spring free. The head of his pulsating cock is pink and already forming another bead of clear precum.

He grunts while giving long, overdrawn strokes to his dick to the sight of you beneath him. His long hair drapes the sides of his face, but you can still see his eager smile from underneath. His gaze focuses on your glistening folds spread just for him. With every low moan that escapes him from jerking himself, you feel your hole clench in arousal.

“You want this, huh? I can’t wait to feel you squeeze around my cock,” he hovers above your chest getting ready to insert himself. “Give me your hand, pretty,” he extends his hand to your own. He’s careful with his fingers as he leads you towards his length. “You can lead me in yourself,” he presses your fingers to wrap around the end of him.

“You’re so hard,” you whine. His cock is hot in your hand; almost scorching. You gulp and let him come closer to you before pulling the tip of his member to your aching hole.

Tomura watches your prod yourself with his thick head; you whimper frustrated with every poke that won’t go in with the urgency you’d like. He lends two helpful fingers to your clit. He takes the small nub between his thumb and index to tweak it. “Mhm, that’s it, just stretch your cunt around me, just like that,” he smiles patronizingly. “You can take it, Y/N. I already know you can.”

“Tomura, please,” you gasp as half of his cock enters you all at once.

“I couldn’t have you keep trying. That was painful to watch.”

The other half of his cock slowly presses on into your cunt. Every inch is slightly wider than the last.

“I bet you were so excited to be picked with me for that idiotic game,” he laughs while rocking his hips deeply; the curve up to his tip grinding against your g-spot. “Do you want to know a secret, sweet girl?”

“Wha—what?” you squeak. Your mouth feels dry.

“I was excited to be picked with you,” he starts to thrust at a rhythmic pace. “To get to use your sweet cunt, as I’ve always wanted. And in front of everyone? They know exactly who you belong to now.”

“Yes, I—‘m yours,” you breathe out with a whine. You reach around to the small in his back and pull him in hoping for him to go faster. You lift your hips and grind onto his cock when his pistons into your hole don’t quicken. “Tomura, I need to cum. Please, fuck me.”

“Alright, alright,” Tomura pushes your legs into your chest before grabbing both sides of your waist roughly to bounce your entire body on his cock.

He groans watching your breasts bounce aggressively as he pumps you on himself. Your sloppy pussy is his cocksleeve. Don’t be surprised if he’s the only person to ever play with your cunt ever again.

“So cute, so cute,” he chants with a smile along with heavy, uneven breaths.

“Boss—Shigaraki—Tomu—I’m so close,” you cry out. Tears well up in the corners of your eyes. His cockhead’s plow into your cervix is unwavering and overall—he’s hitting you right where needed. “Oh, right there, right there. Please make me cum.” Drool dribbles out the side of your mouth as you call out to him for a release.

“C’mon do it, pretty, cum on your boss’s cock,” he encourages.

His command spikes your arousal to follow it. “Ahh,” your breath hitches as you become nervous you might make a mess of him. The inside of your little hole feels like someones turned on a faucet. You almost want to push him off of you to rush to the bathroom, but you can’t help it now, it just feels too good.

“Oh, my God!” you scream out to your imminent release. You heave through your mouth held agape as you feel a trickle of liquid escape the top of your slit out onto Tomura’s pumping cock.

When he feels it, he just pumps into you even faster. A rush of clear liquid splashes onto the top of his dick and it only gets fucked back into you as he thrusts wildly. You watch him with blurred vision as he grins madly at your tears. You can't help but almost sob at the overstimulation of your walls and clit.

You feel empty once he pulls out. Your orgasm continues even with him having left your body. A loud, wet clicking sound comes from him while he pumps himself quickly. You lay there drenched in your own cum and arousal until you hear a deep grunt come from his throat.

He gives one more pump until he presses his cockhead to your pulsating entrance. Ropes of thick, white cum seep into your cunt as your hips are held up. Tomura rubs his head around your tightening hole and flicks your clit with it to spread his spending.

“Ah, sensitive,” you whimper.

“Heh,” he chuckles through deep breaths coming down from his release. Moving his hips, his softening cock falls out from you. You feel two lean fingers spread your folds while he uses his other hand to push his leaking cum back into your weak cunt.

You whine and pull your legs out from under him to escape the extra amount of stimulation. You lay on your side and feel his and your own liquids ooze through your lips to create a sheen on your thigh.

Drifting in and out of a haze, clothes rustle around as Tomura attempts to find his pants. You watch him get dressed as your eyes begin to close from exhaustion. You feel the bed’s large wet spot from your surprise ejaculation gets colder against your side as you drift to sleep. The weight of your legs and chest forbid you to care.

Before completely being taken late at night, you feel a kiss press to the top of your head, and then the door clicks closed a few moments later.

Tag List: @knifeewifee @wakaoujisenhime @thedreadthreadanomaly @moodyvoid @lilli-chae @bakatenshii @shiggyisking @gallickingun @tomomoni @bnhabookclub @hawks-senseis @royal-after-dark @sinclairsamess @thotsforvillainrights @keigod @gr0vndz3ro @cannibalchan @sadistiks @mirakumiruku @shoutogepi @tomurasprincess @meximorrita @shinsotired @beauty-in-ferality @ivymemnoch

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki lemon #shigaraki smut #bnha smut #lov smut #mha smut #bnha #mha #league of villians #tomura shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura smut #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha lemon #bnha lemon #writing #shigaraki tomura x reader

1K notes · View notes

ninja-scenarios · 4 years

Note

Omg I'm so excited for this!!!

Is it okay to request some HCs for Dazai, Mori and Fyodor with a fem!S/O who's a Vet and she's very sweet and soft and has a Healing ability, but she is prone to overworking to exhaustion and has a hard time refusing people?

I hope it's not too specific, but if it is, you can tweak it in any way you like so that you'll enjoy it 🤗💖

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this, have an amazing day!!

🌸🌸🌸🌟🌟🌟

Ahhh I love BSD so much!!! Thank you anon 💕

Dazai, Fyodor, Mori with a hard-working S/O

(The scenario with Dazai is with a female s/o, Mori and Fyodor are with a gender neutral s/o)

Dazai 💘

Your back hurt when you straightened out in your chair. The joint in your shoulder popped for good measure and left you grumbling under your breath. Not the best way to start home time.

However, your mood lifted like thick heavy theatre curtains the second your keys unlocked the entrance to your shared home.

„Welcome home, darling~!“

The lovely scent of soup filled your nose, ridding you of the sour afterthought of your headache as soon as you laid your eyes on your lover.

„How was your day?“

Dazai stood at the stove, wearing one of your aprons. However the man didn't give you any time to respond, because the second you opened your mouth he shushed you and made sure you sat down at the table.

„You must be tired, dear. But don't fret, dinner's ready!“

The steaming hot bowl of soup was placed in front of you with Dazai kissing the top of your head and then taking a seat.

You wanted to thank him and ask about his day, you really wanted to. But the moment your brain noticed the food, it completely short circuted. It took all of you not to wolf down the spicy soup as you dug in, remembering that it had been eight hours since your last meal which had consisted of a muesli bar.

With all the work at the vet you tended to overwork yourself and completely forget about your own needs.

Your stomach rumbled in approval as the last drop of soup vanished into your hungry mouth, leaving the bottom of the bowl completely blank.

„Baby, thank you so much for cooking! I-"

Dazai jumped up before you could finish.

„Ahh! Darling, I almost forgot! There's desert, of course.“

Yet before he could leave to spoil you any further, you grabbed his arm with lightning-fast reflexes. You were a doctor after all, who had her own clinic. What a boss ass bitch. You just couldn't control yourself around food.

„You stay here!“ You exclaimed, before burying yourself in his arms. His comforting scent filled your nose, his hands coming to rest on your waist naturally. „I don't need desert as much as I need you.“

If Dazai had glanced at his darling lovingly before, now his warm brown eyes were lighting up even brighter with undying love.

„Really? You mean it? Oh, darling…“ Was he blushing? „Why so romantic all of a sudden~?“

„Desert can wait. What I need now is you and a hot shower.“

Dazai chuckled when you pulled him down into a kiss. His big comforting hands found your shoulders, gliding them down to your butt to lift you up.

Your legs wrapped around his waist while you felt him navigating to your bathroom through your shared kisses.

Naturally, your skilled fingers found his bandages which they loosened hastily.

„So do you want me before, after or during your shower, doll?“

Fyodor ⚠️

`Finally home!‘

It had been a long day at the clinic. You were tired.

Fyodor had given you a key to his apartment after 7 months of being a couple. Even though it had taken time for him to open up, you felt the excitement melt a little bit of your exhaustion as you used it for the first time to open the door.

After the first step you suddenly halted. You had to alert him in some way that you'd entered the appartment lest he had a shock at your sudden appearance. But you didn’t want to say ‚I'm home' which would surely sound too clingy for the first time you used the key.

So you settled for awkwardly calling his name.

„…Fyodor? Eh… Are you there?“

The more suprised you were when you heard him call back from the living room.

„Y/n, are you home already?“

Home. Ignoring the sudden swarm of butterflies warming your belly from the inside, you stepped into the living room for a familiar image.

Fyodor hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor, a warm blanket wrapped around him while he oversaw something on an array of computer screens.

You came to give him a peck on his temple.

„Are you still working?“

„Don't bother yourself with it, doll.“ He stretched his hand to stroke a strand of hair behind your ear. His nimble fingers lingered on your neck and you had a hard time turning away from his eyes.

„I see you’re tired. Always so hard-working, aren't you? Why don't you sit with me?“ He unwrapped one side of the blanket, indicating for you to join him.

Heart still beating fast from his kind gesture you took a seat on his lap, resting comfortably against his wonderfully warm body. He wrapped the blanket around the both of you, going back to his work.

For a second you were reminded of the reason he sat here with a blanket and warm clothes, of his weak anemic body. Yet you assured yourself that Fyodor was capable to take care. Still, you worried.

Yet when your head met his neck, you noticed how tired you really were. It had been a long night at work and you wanted nothing more than to rest.

You fell asleep to Fyodor petting your head, feeling safe and sound. Feeling like home.

Mori 💉

For any new recruit to the port Mafia, it came as a shock when you let yourself into the building like you owned the place and proceeded to self-assuredly navigate through the hallways as if you were taking a stroll, to plop down right on top of the boss' very own bed.

However, you couldn't care less about the newbies who had to pick up their jaws from the floor.

It was only natural for you, being the boss' lover.

Today you were dog tired, having worked over time because one of your employees had called in sick and leaving you with a ton of work.

It should have been about an hour from when you'd fallen into bed and immediately went to sleep comforted by his familiar scent, when Mori finally showed up.

The oh so mighty head of the port mafia was astonished upon noticing you, his violet eyes widening slightly, before proceeding to walk on tip toes and making as little noise as possible until he arrived at your bed side.

Just when he was about to lean down to place a kiss on your head, you opened your eyes with a cheeky grin.

„Ahh why are you doing this to me? If you were awake why didn't you say so?“

Nothing was funnier than reminding your powerful lover that he was a mere slave to your smile.

„Because you're always so fun to tease.“

Mori furrowed his brows yet you pulled him down by his collar to press a few loving kisses to his lips. His eyes changed immediately, fading with a love-drunken glow, as well as his cheeks. His stubble scratched just the slightest bit but you were used to it by now.

He took a seat on the side of the bed, a warm smile grazing his lips when you proceeded to climb into his lap.

„I take it you worked over time again?“

You merely hummed, toying with the top button of his dress shirt before unbuttoning it.

„You know, my love, I could always send someone else to help you out. If it's money you need-"

„Thanks, but no. I can take care of my own matters. I'm not afraid to put in the work.“

The shirt was stripped away, reveiling the sight to your lover's chest.

„I know, darling, I know. I just don't want you to overwork yourself all the time.“

You locked eyes. Your finger found his pulse against the side of his neck. It was warm, beating in a comforting rythm.

„You can help me otherwise.“

Mori raised his eyebrow in question. You didn't put him on the rack for long.

„Kiss me.“

He wasted no time, cradling the back of your head as he captured your lips in a kiss. You let your fingers continue to wander over his skin while he grunted softly.

Mori made sure you stayed in his lap when he turned you around, hovering over your form while his lips kept attacking yours more and more feverishly as the moments went by.

You moaned softly, tightening the grip of your thighs.

„I love you"

„I love you too, darling"

#bsd imagines #dazai x reader #dazai bsd #mori x reader #fyodor x reader #mori bsd #fyodor bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai imagine #fyodor imagine

208 notes · View notes

poguesmaybank · 3 years

Text

Bathing

Smut Fic Fest Prompt: Bathing

Part Three of the Father’s Day Project

Word Count: 2134

Warning: Smut

Arm wrapped around Edyt’s waist, Finan waved goodbye to his children and in-laws from the porch as Leofric pulled his car from the drive. Edyt relaxed back against his chest with a sigh the second the car disappeared from sight. Finan chuckled, wrapping his other arm around her and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Tired?” he asked, smiling down at her. Edyt hummed in response, turning in his arms to wrap her arms around his neck.

“I love them,” she told him, laying her head on his chest, “but they can be exhausting.”

“Why don’t we go inside and relax?” Finan suggested, guiding her into the house.

“Have you seen the house?” Edyt asked, “Our day isn’t over until it’s clean.”

Finan sighed, knowing she wouldn’t sit until their home was in order. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and went to grab a trash bag from under the sink. Returning to her side, he pulled her into a proper kiss, one to make her mind clear and her toes curl.

“I’ll take the outside, if you want the living room,” he offered, forehead pressed to hers. She nodded, tiptoeing to kiss him once more, before disappearing into the living room. The outside clean up went quicker than he expected and when he made his way back into their home, he found Edyt already vacuuming.

Locking the doors, he made his way up the stairs to their bedroom. He paused a moment at their bedside to look once more at the cards his children had made, before making his way into the en suite. Edyt had insisted, when they’d been house hunting, for a place with a large tub. She would not settle for one that did not cover both her shoulders and her knees.

Finan turned the taps, allowing the water to warm before placing the plug. Opening the second drawer on her side of the sink, he produced a bath bar, filling the tub with bubbles, before drying his hands. Grabbing a handful of candles from the linen closet he placed them around the tub, near enough to shine light but not near enough to catch either of them aflame. As he turned the water off, he heard Edyt entering the bedroom.

“Finan?” her voice floated towards him from the other side of the door.

“Aye, love,” he said making his way to open the door, “I was going to grab us a bottle of wine, but if you want to go ahead and slip in while the water is warm.”

Finan flicked off the bathroom light and moved out of the doorway, so she could see the room that he had set up. Edyt nodded, pulling him down to kiss her.

“Aren’t I supposed to be spoiling you today?” she asked, slipping by him and untying the sash of her wrap around dress. Finan didn’t move, watching as she let the fabric fall from her body. She looked over her shoulder and offered him a coy smile, “I really don’t think we need the wine, Finan.”

“No,” he muttered, making his way over to her. He pressed kisses along her shoulder as he unclasped her bra and pushed the material down her arms. Edyt let the material fall to the floor and tilted her head to allow him more access to her neck. Finan’s fingers danced slowly down her arms, before finding their way up over her stomach. He held her breast softly in each hand, lifting them enough that he could need them softly, tweaking the peaking nipples.

His name fell from her lips as her head fell back against his chest, and he used the new angle to press his lips to hers. She kissed him back lazily, tongue swiping across his bottom. Breaking out of his hands, she turned to him, hands wrapping around his neck, as she pushed up on her toes to kiss him again. Her hands pushed his Father’s Day shirt up until she had to break their kiss to pull it over his head.

Edyt trailed her kisses along the newly exposed skin, fingers popping the button on his jeans. She moved back, slipping her underwear down her thighs as he pushed his pants down. His eyes never left her as he stepped out of them. He moved to her, hands cupping her face as he pulled her into another kiss.

“I love you,” he told her, before stepping into the bath. A groan escaped him at the wonderful feeling and Edyt laughed at him.

“I love you too,” she said, taking the hand he offered and letting him help her into the tub. She gasped at the silky feeling, waiting impatiently for Finan to settle down into the water so she could join him. She sunk into the water, her back against his chest. Her eyes fluttered closed as the warm water rose over her chest, enveloping her whole body. She felt Finan chuckle behind her, running his hands up her arms and over her chest.

“I missed this,” he mumbled, trailing his lips along her neck. Edyt hummed happily, as his hands wandered her form. He let his palm press against her lower stomach, “We used to do this all the time when you were pregnant.”

“Finan,” she warned, not opening her eyes. One hand stayed on her stomach, the other wandering back north to fondle her breast. “No more babies.”

“One more,” he barter, still caressing her skin. “Think about it. Another girl, brilliant and blonde, just like her mother.”

“We already have a girl, who is nothing like her mother,” Edyt muttered, gasping as he tweaked her nipple between her fingers. “Iseult is just like you. Give it a few years and she’ll be married and there will be tons of little feet running around.”

“Edyt, you can’t tell me,” he said, pressing a separate kiss to her neck after each word, “you haven't thought about it.”

“I have,” she admitted, turning her head to capture his lips, “I’ve thought about it alot.”

“Oh?” he mumbled, as she leaned up needing to breathe out of his embrace, his presence clouding her better judgement.

“You’re an amazing father, you know that?” she asked, soaping up a washcloth. She moved away from him and turned to face him. Sitting on heels, she ran the cloth over his shoulders and chest. “I love that about you. And my god, do I love seeing you with the kids, not just ours.”

“Trying to get my hopes up?” he asked her. She shook her head, smiling softly at him.

“No, I’m just saying I have thought about it,” she answered, moving back into his arms, legs straddling his waist and kissing him gently. “We’d be old parents. Say we got pregnant next week, which is unlikely, but let's pretend. You’d be in your fifties before it’s ten. I wouldn’t be far behind.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” he asked. Edyt shrugged.

“I wanted to spend our sixties relaxing, not raising another teenager,” she told him.

“She’ll be twenty by then,” he said, pulling Edyt to kiss him. Edyt laughed and shook her head, but let him kiss her anyway.

“We’d have to go to the doctor,” she muttered against his lips, “make sure we’re even healthy enough to try it.”

“I can make the appointment first thing tomorrow,” he answered, kissing her again while his hands ran down her, gripping her ass firmly.

“It’ll be a lot of work,” she gasped, as his kisses trailed south, pulling her out of the water enough to allow him access to her breasts.

“I love work,” he muttered, between the kisses he peppered along her chest. Edyt brought his lips back to hers, her hands wandering along his shoulders and down his chest.

“I’m not making any promises,” Edyt muttered against his lips, before trailing kisses back along his jaw, “but we can talk about it in the morning. Until then I think we could do with some practice.”

“Oh?” Finan said, grinning at her. “I think you’re right. We need to be ready when you agree.”

Edyt laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her closer, water sloshing around them. Finan captured her lips again, one hand tangling in her hair. Edyt moaned into the kiss as his free hand traveled south, gripping her ass. Edyt shifted, the tub suddenly feeling too small for their current endeavor. She could feel him pressing against her thigh. He moved his hand from her hair to tease at her entrance.

“Finan, we will make a mess,” she told him, pressing her lips to the spot just below his ear. He groaned as she sucked at the flesh.

“Messes can be cleaned,” he countered, slipping two fingers inside of her. Edyt moaned his name, head falling back as he moved his fingers in and out, thumb pressing against the bundle of nerves between her legs. Finan attached her lips to her neck, nipping and sucking along the flesh as he moved back down to her breasts. He flicked his tongue along the nipple, before blowing on his feeling his nails tighten against shoulders.

“You, sir,” she muttered, hands trailing down his chest, “are a bad influence.”

She knocked his hand away so she could grab his cock, stroking it briefly before lining him up at her entrance. Slowly, she sunk down on him. She moaned at the familiar stretching feeling, his hands gripping her ass firmly, helping her bounce on him. Finan kissed her, briefly, before returning his attention to her breast, the sloshing water splashed against his chin. He seemed not to notice, focusing on burying his face in the mounds. Edyt’s knees ached as Finan suddenly stopped her.

“Shower,” he muttered, realizing that the tub might have been a mistake. She nodded, an unintentional sigh of relief leaving her. She climbed out of the tub, turning on the shower as Finan followed. He wrapped himself around her, lips against her neck, cock grinding against her ass, fingers playing with the bundle of nerves between her legs. She melted into him, legs feeling weak as he touched her. She could feel her orgasm building, hips shifting against his hand.

“Fuck,” Edyt panted when he pulled his hand her. Chest heaving, she looked at him in disbelief.

Finan opened the shower door once the water had warmed, guiding her inside. The warm water ran over them, washing from the bubbles and soap from the bath. Turning she wrapped her arms around his neck, tiptoeing in order to kiss him. He kissed her back roughly, hands coming below her ass to lift her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he pressed her against the shower wall. The spray hit his back running down over her legs. Finan wasted no time, lining himself back up at her entrance. Edyt gasped as he entered her swiftly, setting a furious pace immediately, contrasting with the slow easy pace of the tub.

Edyt’s orgasm began its steady build once more as his thrusts pounded him into her. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she attached her lips to the flesh just below his ear, teasing the sensitive spot. Finan gasped, forcing her lips back to his in a passionate kiss. Edyt wiggled a hand between them, barely having to touch herself as she came. Her walls squeeze tight around him, causing his hips to stutter. His name came loudly from her lips with a string of unintelligible mutterings. His own orgasm approached rapidly. Edyt felt his heart racing underneath her palm, as he found his release.

Finan collapsed against her, forehead pressed to the shower wall as he caught his breath. He let her to her feet before kissing her gently. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his chest. Finan laid his head on top of hers.

“I bet the bath is cold,” he mumbled, causing Edyt to laugh. Pulling away, she pecked his lips.

“I guess that means we’ll have to take a proper one tomorrow,” she said, grinning at him, “and we can start in the shower. Now though, I want to cuddle.”

“I can do that,” Finan grinned, letting her pull him from the shower. He wrapped a towel around her, using it to pull her to him and kiss her once more, before finding his own towel and drying off.

“I love you,” she giggled, as scooped into his arms. He twirled her around, before falling into their bed.

“I love you too,” he answered, pulling the blankets around them. He placed a kiss on her forehead, before rubbing his nose playfully against hers. Finan turned off the bedroom lamp, ready for their long day to end.

#tlkfanficfestbingo #shieldcard #finan #finan smut #finan x oc #tlk #the last kingdom #finan x edyt #edyt

45 notes · View notes

imthepunchlord · 3 years

Text

Many don’t know the two sides of the moon, or are even aware that there are two sides. Most know of the more positive aspect of the mysterious luminary. The gentle beauty, here to lighten up the night, shapes shadows upon its whim, and illuminate paths for those who wander in the night.

Many have forgotten that it was a luminary associated with mischief, unknown, and danger. How it empowered the supernatural, and brought about the thirteenth hour, just for the magic of the world to thrive in.

It was something Luuna always mentioned, but never elaborated on. It made Luka wonder from time to time if the two moon bound miraculouses that he and his partner had, did they experience the extra hour the moon brought? Did time ever come for a stand still, just for them and the fey?

He truly couldn’t say.

What he can say is that, post getting the rabbit miraculous, Luka’s found himself to be more active at night. Feel a need to be out, under the moon and the stars and to simply listen to the world.

In truth, it suits him just fine.

The melody of the night was a peaceful one, and the rabbit just added to his hearing, stretching it out farther, letting the soothing, relaxing song of the sleeping Paris fill his head. And walking along the Seine, it just added to the tune.

Luka paused a little when he felt movement underneath his jacket, looking down to see Luuna peeking out, seeing her sniff the air, her long ears perked, blue eyes alert. The white kwami spared him a fast look, whispering, “Jagrr is close.”

Luka perked at that.

Lupine was about?

Immediately, he went to the roofs, seeking out the wolf, noting that yes, it did appear the moon had dimmed down a little, nervous of the active wolf, possibly in memory of the one that chased it across the heavens.

Not that Lupine would.

The only thing she was interested in hunting was trouble.

Under the dim light, he saw the bit of red of her suit, and when she turned towards him, he saw the glow of her eyes, locked right on him. The extended coattail of her blazer seemed to twitch, and he could see her considering him, observing him.

The wolf decided to prowl closer, and Luka stood still, watching as she came to him slowly. Benevolent as she was, all got nervous at the approach of a wolf. Even Luuna mentioned once that, while she and Jagrr got along, she felt twitchy around her lunar counterpart. Its instinct for the rabbit to want to flee, and for the wolf to chase.

While Luka felt no need to flee, knowing he was safe near her, he couldn’t deny how still he stood as she came near, more marveled by her than afraid.

While shorter than him, she moved with great power and grace, stopping before him and peering up at him with bright yellow eyes, a friendly smile on her lips. Before him, he could catch a bit of her song, familiar, but disjointed with her miraculous, securing that he couldn’t figure her out.

“What are you doing so late at night?” she wondered, mindful to not get too close.

With a smile, he answered, “Couldn’t sleep. An evening walk felt too tempting.”

“I get that,” she said, sparing a glance to the moon above. It appears she was on the same page, unable to sleep, having a need to be out under the moon as well.

“Do you want to walk with me?” he asked.

“Happily!” There was a wag in her coattail before it went still, and she awkwardly corrected, “I need to, ah, see you home safely anyway.”

His smile grew and he drew near, allowing the two to walk side by side. A content quiet settled between them, Luka listening to the melody of the night while Lupine would breathe in deeply. He spared a glance her way, watching how her hair bounded with her movement, her red faux ears twitching about, catching every sound around them. When her bright yellow eyes flickered to him, he instinctively looked away, turning his gaze to the moon above.

Absently, he wondered, “Do you experience the thirteenth hour?”

There was a curious amusement in her tone. “I don’t. I can move faster than time if I want to though.”

And he could pause time for a very short while.

The quiet resumed, relaxing and at ease, with the lull of the Seine filling the air between them. They took a slow turn on a bridge, heading back to where his mother anchored the Liberty. He absently wondered if Juleka finally retired or if she was going to still be awake.

Lupine let loose a loud sigh, her ears flopping down. Giving her a concerned look, he got his answer as she commented in a slight whine, “I’m going to be dead tired tomorrow.”

He gave a dry chuckle. He’ll be sharing that pain.

“I’m not even tired after this, I still feel like moving.” With a pout, she reached up, tracing the little crescent moon pendant she had hanging around her neck, all five slots glowing red with power. “I think it's one of the worst things about this, it doesn’t help with my sleep schedule at all.”

“Are you more of a night person?” he asked.

“I’m more of a sporadic sleeper, so I sleep whenever.” She had a pout on her lips, and he chuckled at the sight, finding it cute on her. “You?” she asked.

“More of a night owl, myself.” With a shake of his head, he admitted, “And not a morning person.”

She cracked a grin. “I can be awake in seconds.”

“How?” he wondered, genuinely wanting to know. “What sort of power is this?”

She puffed up, looking proud. “My drive to be busy,” she said dramatically. “It’s both a blessing and a curse.”

“You can give me some of that energy.”

“I would love to.”

Unconsciously, they both drew closer and closer until they brushed each other, making them both jump. Flustered smiles were shared between the two, Lupine’s cheeks a little pink as she turned away, delight shining in her eyes. Luka’s eyes were filled with warmth and content.

All too soon, Liberty was in sight, and with it, their time coming to an end. Lupine let out a wistful sigh, tail drooping flat against her back legs. Then she perked herself up and hopped away, turning back to Luka. “Try to get some sleep,” she requested, “at least one of us could be better prepared for tomorrow.”

He gave her a wry smile. “You’re expecting a little too much there.”

There was a thoughtful hum before she gasped, bringing forth her palette and brush. “Brushstroke,” she murmured, and the top of her paintbrush glowed. She slid it over her palette and music notes drifted into the air.

“I’m not much of a musician,” she warned as the notes drifted closer to Luka, who cupped them in wonder. “But I like to think I’m decent enough to leave you a little lullaby.”

“I, thank you,” he whispered, listening as they let loose a soft tune, one that sounded close to Jagged’s softer songs, but with enough tweaks to make it a lullaby.

“Goodnight, Luka.”

With a great leap, Lupine left him alone. Luuna darted out, giddily spinning around the music notes, brushing against one had it twirling faster in the air, the note going a little higher. “How marvelous!” she gushed, a giddy chime in her eyes.

“Hey, this is supposed to help me sleep,” he said, easing her back a little. He can say that he already felt himself relaxing at the melody. His hands cupped around the floating notes, he carried the quiet song to his room, finding that yes, Juleka was out and asleep. Letting the notes drift over his bed, he settled down, listening and watching the notes above him till his eyes grew heavy…

#miraculous ladybug #Lukanette #kwami swap #rabbit miraculous #wolf miraculous #rabbit!Luka #wolf!Marinette #Hopollo #Lupine

86 notes · View notes

cobaltusami · 3 years

Text

Tropical Vacation pt. 6

Hey hi hello! This part was very self Indulgent, lots of snuggly fluffy goodness <3

Also a callback to Self Conscious! hooray continuity! :D

I can't believe I'm up to part 6 already, wtf lol

Characters In this part: Switch!Hajime, Switch!Fuyuhiko, Nagito, Makoto, Mahiru, Ibuki, Kazuichi, Sonia, Mondo, Nekomaru, Sakura, Hina, Imposter, Sayaka and more.

Word count: 2,905

Part 1: [Click or tap here!] Part 2: [Click or tap here!] Part 3: [Click or tap here!] Part 4: [Click or tap here!] Part 5: [Click or tap here!] Part 6: You are here.

When the usual morning announcement came across the monitors, It was sort of disappointing because for a moment they had thought they escaped the school but reality was once again upon them.

Makoto pulled himself out of bed upon hearing a knock at his door, he didn’t think twice about going to it and opening It, figuring it was probably Kyoko.

But Instead It was Ibuki Mioda. “GOOD NOM NOM NOMMING!” she greeted cheerfully (and loudly).

Makoto yelped and stumbled backwards In surprise. “U-Uh, Good morning Ibuki.” He smiled sheepishly.

“Ibuki volunteered to come get you and the others to come to breakfast! So throw on some snazzy duds and come on down!” She instructed, bouncing off to the next door and knocking on it.

Makoto smiled a bit and closed his door to get ready for the day. Once done he stepped outside his room and glanced around, He spotted several of his classmates on their way to the stairs.

Kyoko had waited for him. “You’re late.”

“S-Sorry. I had trouble finding my clothes… Monokuma kind of just threw my stuff everywhere.” Makoto apologized as he walked with the purple haired girl.

“You mean you went to sleep with your stuff everywhere?” She asked, surprised.

“Y-Yeah… I was tired.” He replied sheepishly.

“Good morning Makoto!” Hina greeted as she dashed past him down the stairs.

Makoto stumbled and grabbed the handrail.

“Whoa, Hina! Where’s the fire?” Hiro asked with a chuckle. She pointed at the Biker at the top of the steps.

Mondo mumbled under his breath, apparently he’d been chasing her but didn’t want to risk tripping and falling down the stairs so he gave up his pursuit for now.

Once In the dining hall they noticed all the tables had been pushed together into one massive table. They also observed that while not everyone was here yet, Chihiro was already sitting next to Chiaki chatting happily.

Makoto smiled, happy his friend seemed to have made a friend. “So, Where should we sit? Does anyone have specific seats?” he asked Sonia.

“No, Sit wherever you want!” She smiled In response.

Ibuki pulled out a chair for Sayaka, who giggled and did a curtsy as she sat down. Ibuki claimed the seat next to her. Kyoko and Makoto sat next to each other, Taka sat down next to Mondo, Leon sat between Hiro and Makoto.

For some reason, Mondo rose up out of his seat. The reason became apparent to Taka and Hiro when he locked eyes with Sakura.

“Good morning Mondo…” She said carefully, Her fight or flight instincts on standby.

“Sakura… How are ya?” His fight or flight instincts were also on standby.

“Uh, Are you two okay?” Nekomaru asked curiously.

“Yeah, we’re okay… Right Sakura?”

“As long as you don’t repeat your actions from yesterday.” Sakura responded, They stared each other down for a moment in silence.

“Ooooh! It's like a texas standoff!” Ibuki grinned.

Nekomaru pulled out two chairs across from Mondo. “Here, You and Hina can sit here, I’ll sit on this side in case he tries anything.”

Sakura smiled at Nekomaru, glancing back at Mondo, who was sporting a disappointed expression. Evidently he was going to try something, but since Neko was there to stop him he had no choice but to back off for now.

“Thank you, Nekomaru.” she bowed her head as they sat down.

“Mornin’ everyone!” Akane greeted as she walked Into the room, claiming the seat on the other side of Nekomaru.

“You’re In an awfully good mood… What did you do?” Nekomaru asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Akane.

“What? I didn’t do nothin’ Coach Nekomaru.” Akane smiled.

“Mm… I’m not sure I believe you.” He mumbled, but dropped the subject.

“So what do you guys do for fun around here?” Sayaka asked as they waited for the rest of the students to show up.

“Ooh! We have loads of things to do!” Ibuki replied, practically bouncing in her seat. “There’s a Music venue on the third island!”

“A music venue?? Ibuki, Do you feel like showing It to me after breakfast?” Sayaka asked excitedly.

“Would she?! Ibuki would show you now If Teruteru wouldn’t get mad at us for bailing on breakfast!” She grinned.

“What else do you guys do?” Leon asked curiously.

Kazuichi hummed thoughtfully. “Well, There’s Water Balloon wars, Water gun fights, Swimming--”

Hina perked up. “Swimming? Is the water as safe as It looks??”

Sonia nodded with a smile. “Yes, It’s not dangerous In the slightest If you know how to swim.

“YES! we HAVE to go swimming later!” She squealed happily.

Sakura chuckled at her eagerness. “Alright.”

“Does anyone wanna join us??” Hina asked.

“Hell yeah!” Akane grinned.

“Why don’t we take It step further?” Chiaki asked. “Let’s throw a beach party today as a welcome party of sorts.”

Sonia gasped, her eyes lighting up. “That Is an excellent idea, Chiaki!”

Mahiru smiled, she seemed to be resting a bit easier around the students today. “I think that sounds like fun.” she agreed.

Ibuki whipped around to look at Sayaka. “We could have a beach concert at night!”

“Yes! Let’s do It!” Sayaka beamed back.

Mahiru smiled in exasperation, she knew Ibuki’s music style was very… different. So she was curious to see how they’d pull off the clashing music styles.

The red head paused her thoughts after looking around. “Hey… Where’s Toko and Byakuya?”

“Oh, Ibuki tried to get them out of their rooms, but they refused to join us.” Ibuki explained.

“That’s normal for them.” Makoto explained. “Toko doesn’t like to eat in front of others, and Byakuya Is… well… Byakuya.”

Imposter flinched, how could he have gotten Byakuya’s identity so wrong?

He had long since told the class his identity (or lack thereof) and In turn they helped him figure out who he was, He was now his own person. He struggled some days to avoid impersonating someone else, But the class was so supportive and kind to him that he was able to resist.

“I see, I guess It can’t be helped.” Mahiru sighed softly.

“Has anyone seen Hajime or Young Master?” Peko asked curiously.

“No, I didn’t even notice they were missing…” Chiaki responded, looking around the table.

“I’m sure they’re fine! They’re Ultimates after all.” Nagito reassured cheerily.

“Annnd he’s off.” Kazuichi sighed.

“Mornin’ Gundham.” Nekomaru greeted the dark student. “Did you see Hinata or Kuzuryu when you were coming in?”

Gundham paused, trying to recall if he had or not. “No, I do not believe so. I passed by the small darkling but neither Hajime or Fuyuhiko.” He replied.

“Small darkling?” Makoto parroted.

“He means Hiyoko.” Mahiru answered. “You get used to his dialect the more you hang around him.”

“Speak for yourself.” Kazuichi retorted sarcastically, receiving an elbow to the ribs by Sonia in response. He whined and rubbed his ribs. “Uh, Should we go check on them?”

“I’m sure they’re fine, but just in case I’ll go check on them!” Nagito volunteered, standing up.

He’s probably going to regret this but…

Makoto stood up too. “I’ll go with you!” He chirped, The taller student turned to him in surprise. “I-If you’ll let me.”

“Really?? An Ultimate wants to accompany me?? I’d be honored!” Nagito smiled, Makoto couldn’t tell if he was super sarcastic or just strange… He was leaning towards just strange.

Chiaki reached up, tweaking his side. “Don’t act weird and scare him.

Nagito flinched away, giggling lightly. “We should go. Let’s check Hajime’s cottage first.” He said as the two lucky students walked out.

“Should I have gone with them?” Mahiru asked.

“Probably. But Nagito should be on his best behavior.” Chiaki replied nonchalantly. “He remembers what happened the last time he misbehaved.”

Inside Fuyuhiko’s cottage the two were greeted by the annoying as usual morning announcement, pulling them out of their sleeping states.

Hajime stretched and went to sit up but Hiko snuggled further into his side, squashing any chance at getting up anytime soon.

Hajime smiled as he laid back down, his arm still looped around the blond’s shoulders holding him close. “Good morning, Fuyu.” He murmured.

Fuyu mumbled incoherently in response.

“Yo, Baby Gangster.” The brunette tried, shaking him.

“Fuck off…” Fuyuhiko slurred, his words thick with sleep.

“We have to get up, Fuyuhi--EEK!” Hajime squeaked in surprise as the Yakuza sighed quietly and began scribbling his fingers all over Hajime’s sides. “NOHOHOHO! FUYU!”

“Lemme sleep…” He mumbled.

Hajime laughed, trying to get away from the snuggly tickly Yakuza he called a boyfriend. “STAHAHAHAHAP TICKLING MEHEHE!”

“If you’re not gonna let me sleep… I’m going to need to hear your laugh.” He murmured, his eyes still closed. Though he sported a small smirk.

Unfortunately for Hajime, his squirming led him to fall off of the bed with a small yelp of surprise. Fuyuhiko finally opened his eyes, blinking away the sleep as he stared down at his tall boyfriend on the floor.

“Why the fuck are you on the floor?” Fuyu asked quietly. “I’m up here. Come cuddle me you jackass.”

Hajime narrowed his eyes. “Oh ha ha. You’re hilarious.” He stood up and got back In bed, scooping the small blond up into his lap. “Fine, You want my attention so bad? I’ll give you attention.”

Fuyuhiko squealed as he felt Hajime’s fingers descend on his belly, poking and wiggling in the tender flesh. “AHAHAHAHAHA! FAHAHAHACK!” He swore, squirming around helplessly.

“Not so relaxing and fun is it?” Hajime smirked, tickling his boyfriends cute tummy without mercy. “Although, I can see how you would think doing the tickling is, I feel pretty amused and relaxed right now.”

Oh, Hajime was so gonna go down for this. “FAHAHAHACK OFF!” He cackled, shoving at his hands to no avail.

Hajime leaned down, planting soft ticklish kisses against his neck. “That’s not very nice.” He hummed against his skin. This coupled with the tickling to his belly reduced him to a blushing snorting mess.

“NAHAHAHA! DOHOHOHOHON’T! *snort* IHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLES!” He whined, trying to bring his shoulders up.

“I bet It does~ Your neck Is really sensitive.” He murmured, continuing to plant tickly kisses against his tender neck. “You know… I still haven’t found your worst spot… maybe I should look for it.”

“NONONONO! *snort* DOHOHOHOHON’T KYAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *snort*”

“Oh Fuyu, There’s only one place I haven’t tried~” He sang teasingly. “Are your feetsies ticklish?” He cooed, making the smaller boy blush brighter.

“DOHOHON’T FAHAHACKING *snort* BABY TAHAHAHALK MEHE *snort* YOU BAHAHAHASTARD!”

Hajime chuckled, reaching over and grabbing one of the kicking appendages. “Someone’s cranky today, Did the sweet baby not get enough sleep?” He cooed.

Fuyu narrowed his eyes at Hajime as he gasped for air, thankful for the small reprieve. “Listen here… you little shit…”

“What am I listening for? Is the big scary Yakuza gonna threaten me? I think we both know you won’t follow through with whatever bodily harm you threaten to cause me.” He smirked smugly.

Fuyuhiko squirmed and wiggled until he freed his arms and he began digging into Hajime’s sides relentlessly. “No, the big scary Yakuza Is going to wreck you!” He shot back.

Hajime yelped and dissolved into loud laughter, he squirmed around until he was closer to Fuyu’s trapped foot and he began tickling it, making the blond shriek and throw his head back in a loud fit of laughter. “TWOHOHOHOHO CAN PLAHAHAHAY AT THAHAHAT GAHAHAHAME!”

“HAHAHAHAJIIIII!” Hiko whined, trying to free his foot. He moved his hands up to tickle under his arms, making the brunette choke on his laughter.

“SHIHIHIHT! HIHIHIHIHIKO! DOHOHOHOHN’T!” He cackled, trying to dislodge the small blond.

“LEHEHEHET GO *snort* OF MYHYHY FOOT!” Hiko ordered, eyes tearing up from laughing so hard.

“THEHEHEHEHEN STAHAHAHAHAP TICKLING MEHEHEHE!” Hajime shot back, his nails gliding under his wiggly toes, drawing some adorable squeals from the Future head of the Kuzuryu clan.

“NAHAHAHAHAA! *snort* FIHIHIHIHINE I’LL STAHAHAP *squeal* IHIHIHIF YOU *snort* STAHAHAP!” He offered, his fingers not tickling as harshly as previous.

“Okahahahay! Truhuhuce?” Hajime lessened his tickling too.

“Truhuhuhuce…” Fuyuhiko pulled his hands back, and Hajime did the same, both of them falling back against the bed panting.

“Hehehe… Damn… I’m so going to remember how ticklish your feet are for later…” He grinned tiredly at the flushed boy next to him.

Hiko narrowed his eyes at the taller boy. “I wouldn’t... Don’t forget… I know your worst spots and how to exploit them…”

Hajime smirked, recalling that time at the beach house when he tickled the Yakuza for the first time. “Is that supposed to deter me?” He quoted him.

“Hey!” Fuyu laughed as he gently pushed his boyfriend.

Hajime laughed too, pulling the blond back into his arms. “That day was so fun… Even after you blasted me with the entire water supply In that bazooka.”

Hiko giggled adorably, snuggling into his chest. “You shouldn’t have pulled me away, I was going to empty it on Hiyoko instead.”

Hajime snorted in amusement. “At least you haven’t made any comments about how you look since then.”

“It’s not because I’m scared of you or anything. Don’t fucking flatter yourself.” Fuyuhiko rolled his eyes. “It’s just that… being around you makes me feel better about myself.”

The brunette smiled and closed his eyes, but after a few moments of thinking over what he just said he opened them again. “Wait, What’s that supposed to mean? Did you just call me ugly?”

“No! You are not ugly in the slightest.” Fuyuhiko frowned as he quickly sat up. “I just mean that… I don’t think about how my body looks when I’m around you… because those thoughts are silenced by…” He blushed bright red, looking away. “B-By how much I… adore you…” He struggled to admit.

Hajime felt his heart melt at the confession, he grabbed onto the smaller student and gently pulled him back down into his cuddly hold. “You’re too cute.”

“Sh-Shut up!” He blushed even brighter.

“So, Nagito…” Makoto struggled to make conversation as they descended down the stairs. “What do you like to do in your free time?”

Nagito hummed thoughtfully, pausing as he turned to the short student. “Well, I guess I usually just hang around my friends. My favorite pastime Is watching Chiaki play video games, Or having Water fights with Hajime and the others.” He answered as they continued walking. “I don’t really have any hobbies or anything. What about you?”

Now that he mentions it… What does Makoto do In his free time? Normally he just hangs around his friends as well… not that there’s much else to do In the school. “Ah, I guess about the same.” He replied shyly. “I normally just hang around Kyoko or Hang out In the rec room with the group. There’s not really much to do In the school.”

“That’s just like you Ultimates, You make the most out of anything and find ways to stay positive even In the most hopeless situations!” Nagito praised, though Makoto still wasn’t sure If he was being serious or sarcastic yet.

They arrived at Hajime’s cottage and Nagito rang the doorbell. After a few attempts without any response, Nagito spoke. “I wonder If Hajime Is even home right now…” He thought aloud.

“Where else would he be?” Makoto asked curiously as the taller student turned to him.

“I think I might have an idea… Follow me.” He instructed, walking off towards another cottage with the small student closely in tow.

“Uh, Nagito? This Is…” Makoto trailed off as they stood In front of a door.

“Fuyuhiko’s cottage. I know.” He smiled reassuringly, ringing the doorbell and then opening the door after a moment. “Good morning!” He greeted as he walked In the doorway.

Makoto hesitantly followed.

Imagine his surprise to find Fuyuhiko wrapped up In Hajime’s arms, the two had jolted up in surprise at the sound of the doorbell but remained entangled. “U-Uh… Hi.” Makoto meekly spoke.

Both of their faces flushed as they pulled away from each other. “J-Jesus Nagito! Why bother ringing the doorbell If you were just gonna fucking walk In?!” Fuyuhiko fumed, obviously embarrassed.

“Hey…” Hajime awkwardly greeted back, clearing his throat. “I thought I locked that…”

“Nope!” Nagito replied with a smile without missing a beat. “You two are late for breakfast, You should get ready and come join us!”

Without waiting for a response he turned around and began making his way back towards the hotel.

Makoto lingered for a minute. “S-Sorry! I didn’t realize he was just going to barge In-- I’ll go now.”

“It’s fine. Nagito Is kind of unpredictable…” Hajime chuckled awkwardly.

“You don’t have to act so weird, It’s not like you walked In on anything other than us cuddling.” Fuyuhiko blushed, refusing to look at Makoto.

“R-Right… Uh, See you guys In a few minutes…!” Makoto mustered up a smile and left, closing the door behind him. Nagito had waited for him at the end of the sidewalk leading to the house. “I didn’t know they were dating…” He said quietly as he began walking with Nagito again.

“Mhm. They haven’t been dating very long though, so they get embarrassed when people catch them being flirty. Or cuddling.” He explained as they walked back up the steps.

“Who else Is dating here?” He asked curiously.

“Mm, I’ll tell ya later.” Nagito grinned, patting Makoto’s shoulder as they rejoined the rest of the group.

36 notes · View notes

eivorsjawline · 4 years

Text

Chapter 8: Clean and Cut

Tw: Food, consumption of alcohol, and scarring.

You and Eivor go shopping for some more fitting clothes. After a succesful shopping spree, you head back home to relax and watch a movie with your lover. Unfortunately, you fall asleep halfway through the movie and Eivor decides she has some exploring to do. In the morning, you wake up and cook some breakfast. The chapter ends with a warm shower together.

Eivor’s POV

The reflection in the mirror stared back at me. I lifted my shirt and stared at the bandaged wound on my abdomen, every scar and pore on my body visible. I couldn’t help but feel insecure, never having seen myself from this close before. They were not pleasing to the eye but I always wore them with honor, each imperfection on my body from the large one across my cheek to the ones all over my torso. I lifted my shirt over my head, pulling the sleeves down to my elbows for a look at the ones on my back and stopped for a moment. A knock on the door startled me and I quickly readjusted myself and fixed my shirt. My hand held the door knob and slowly opened. Behind the door revealed Y/n giving me a small smile, she then asked me how I was feeling and if I found everything okay. I nodded and we walked over to her bedroom. The light peaked through the curtains and the room was tidy and kept.

“Eivor, Lay with me.”

Laying down in the large bed, I started to sink inwards. My body had never touched anything so plush and soft before. The bedding was pure white and the sheets soft. I imagine this is what resting on a cloud feels like. I turned towards Y/n and rubbed my hand across her arms, she rested in my chest and ran her fingers through my locks. She seemed to have an infatuation with my hair, I think it might be one of her favorite parts of me. When we embraced one another I never felt uncomfortable, she brought me peace. It pained me to think I almost threw everything we had away due to my selflessness, but she forgave me. Whatever feelings she held for me were always unconditional, even with my faults. Our lips met with a soft kiss, my hand holding onto the back of her neck. The kiss was short but intense until she pulled away and suggested we find some better clothes for me to wear.

Reader’s POV

I waited patiently next to the changing rooms for Eivor to reveal the outfits we picked out together, until I tapped on the door to check to see what was taking so long. When I opened the door she was almost fully dressed but needed a few tweaks from my magic touch. I grinned and helped adjust her pant zipper, which I could tell completely discombobulated her. She wore a slightly oversized gray shirt with a red flannel over it, the jeans were dark almost black and we picked out a good jacket to keep her warm. I fixed the collar of the jacket after helping her arms through the sleeve holes. Lots of pockets lined the sides reminding me that such a thing never existed in the Viking era. To finish the look, a black pair of 1460 Dr. Martens combat boots. She placed her hands in the pockets of her coat before giving a turn in the mirror, already feeling more confident. The shaved part of her head looked cut and clean from the haircut she just got, her Nordic braids falling just over her shoulder. The tattoo that covered her scar peeked through and when I stepped closer, the faint smell of a musky cologne radiated from her body. She was pleased with her new look, almost as much as I.

“Wait… I have a surprise.”

“Eivor, what are you doing?”

She had a small grin on her face when she pulled me outside and made me sit in a chair by the changing rooms. The door closed and I waited for her, “surprise”. We ended up picking a variety of sweaters, jeans, sweatpants, shoes and other fundamentals to start her new life. I noticed she stuck to darker and neutral colors, perhaps they reminded her of her armor. Time continued to pass as I heard Eivor shuffling in the dressing room in front of me. I started to count how many panels were on the floor beneath me until the door flung open and Eivor in a nice black suit stood in front of me. Her hands fiddled with her pockets as she looked down at the clean pair of dress shoes she had on. The sleeves hugged her biceps and thighs just enough and the low collar teased the skin on her chest. She looked up at me and did the cheeky smirk she always does, as if she knew just how good she looked.

“What do you think? Worthy of one of those things you call a “selfie”? I asked what I should wear if I wanted to impress someone. ”

My jaw dropped at the confident woman in front of me, whatever words I wanted to say were completely wiped from my mind. I gulped and stood in awe of her power before finally telling her how beautiful she looked. My mind just began to process that she, Eivor, asked for a selfie with me. Trying to control my laughter, I pulled out the camera on my phone. She pulled me closer and wrapped her hand around my waist, ready for the picture. The moment was so bizarre, taking a picture with a viking in real time. I snapped the photo and let her analyze it, she made a shrug before boasting about how good we looked. Suddenly, I was ready to go home and take off all the clothes we bought today.

“Alright, enough fun. Let's get out of here.”

When we arrived home, the day turned into night and I decided it was time to get comfy. I opened up a bottle of fine wine for me and Eivor, then pouring a glass for the both of us. Eivor made herself at home on the sofa while I popped in a Quentin Tarantino movie to watch. Some snacks laid on the coffee table and the smell of a lavender scented candle filled the room. Eivor opened up her arms for me to snuggle up to her chest. She wore a loose cut off tank top that exposed some of her chest. Our legs intertwined as my fingers ran over the tattooed skin on her arms and the movie began to play.

Eivor’s POV

I peeked underneath me to see Y/n eyes had closed. The film intrigued me so much I hadn’t noticed my lover fell asleep. I took a moment to think about how grateful I was that she remained in my life and admired the sleeping beauty atop of me. After readjusting myself, I placed two arms beneath her and cradled her body before lifting her up with ease. She rested her head on my shoulder and threw an arm over me, tired sounds escaping her. The door to her bedroom remained open and I pressed my back to widen the entrance. I threw the corners of her comforter to the side and laid her down gently in bed before covering her up so she wouldn’t be cold. My lips met her forehead with a soft kiss.

For an odd reason, sleep was the last thing on my mind. I closed the door behind me and made my way to the living room. She had a few books laid on the table in the middle of the room. Dozens in a bookcase nearby, some even collecting dust. Curiosity got the best of me and I turned the page open in one of her many journals. A feeling of sadness overcame me when I read the captivating yet melancholic words on the paper.

“November, 2nd 2020

The house is quiet as always. Perhaps, one day someone will find me worthy to occupy it with me. A woman to warm my bed on chilly nights like this. Suppression has only caused the deep sadness within me to grow and spread. I'm not sure what I’m doing with my life at this point, or what the purpose of this all even is. I don't believe I’ll ever be truly happy in my life at this pace. Maybe, the universe will send me an angel to guide me.

To love me…”

I rested my hand on my chin, as I read over the words repeatedly. She never told me she felt this way and I can't help but feel as if I read something I wasn’t supposed to. If she needed to speak to me about anything I know she would. I placed the journal back where it belonged and slouched on the sofa. My hand reached for the bottle of wine to pour another glass, meanwhile the window remained open and the tall lit up buildings could be seen even from afar. Mankind touched the heavens and my lips touched the brim of the wine glass. Cars raced below me and the bustling city never seemed to quiet. I began to understand how this overpopulated world is filled with so many lonely people.

I poured yet another glass of wine after finishing what I had lost count of. I flickered the light on in the bathroom before placing my hands on the sides of the sink and taking a good look at myself. Turning the faucet on, I then splashed some cold water over my face. Perhaps, it was an attempt to check if all that I’m experiencing is reality. My body let out a yawn and I made way to join my time-crossed lover in bed. I dropped the clothes I had on and laid underneath the covers. When I placed my hands over Y/n’s waist she shifted as If she woke up for a moment and shortly drifted off again. A kiss was placed on her bare shoulder before I felt my eyes begin to close.

Reader’s POV

The sunlight that peered through the window awoke me and I noticed Eivor was still sound asleep. Carefully, I stood up from the bed and tiptoed out the door. My cat meowed and pawed at the bowl on the floor next to her table. After refilling her bowl and checking her water, I started to rummage through the fridge for breakfast. After pulling out a couple skillets, I slapped a few slabs of bacon on the pan and started to cook them slowly. I gathered a bowl and started to beat an egg, adding some vanilla and cinnamon before dipping some bread in the mixture. The butter in the hot skillet started to melt and once the bread started to cook, the familiar smell of french toast filled the air. I flipped the bacon and pulled out some fresh strawberries to put on top of the toast.

Sure enough, Eivor stood by the hallway and let out a big yawn and stretch. She walked up from behind me and gave an embrace, placing kisses on the side of my neck and cheek. Eivor was always quick to run at the smell of food. She sat in a chair by the table with a silly grin on her face as I fixed a plate for her. Her eyes lit up when I placed the plate in front of her, even if it was a simple gesture. She started to scarf down her food as I sat in front of her stirring some sugar into my coffee. I passed some maple syrup towards her, a necessity in my opinion.

“Can't forget this.”

I chuckled and held my hand out across the table for hers to meet mine. The heat from the sun shined through the window and though I was unsure of how much time I had left with her, I enjoyed every second. Once we finished eating, Eivor stretched her legs out and jokingly rubbed her belly from how full she was. She had two platefuls after all. She was beautiful, even if she had just woken up and was yet to comb through her hair. Her deep and intense eyes held a certain ambiance, every scar on her body has become mesmerising to me. I stood up from my seat and onto her lap, straddling my legs around her as her tattooed hands grazed my backside. She looked up at me, a loving expression residing on her face. My eyes wandered to her right arm, examining the ancient tattoos. She held her forearm upwards, her fingers bending for me to get a closer look.

“This one here,” She pointed at the dated symbol and swallowed.

“Is in remembrance of my parents. I lost them when I was very young.”

I listened as she explained the story of her parents death, her situation became more clear to me. Though it was an old wound and whether she showed it or not, the impact was obvious in her now soft voice. Holding her arm out to the side now revealing a stitched symbol, she explained to me the meaning of the, “Aegishjalmur” symbol. Her people swore it granted protection and power to those who wield it. I listened patiently as Eivor guided me through every work of art on her body and she enjoyed telling me. My fingers ruffled her hair and I insisted on a nice hot shower, afterwards explaining how showers are better than baths.

When we entered the bathroom, Eivor pinned me in between her against the wall and we shared a passionate slow kiss. The nature of the kiss was purely romantic, rather than lustful. We undressed one another, her lifting my shirt and I hers. I undid the tie on her sweatpants and her body assisted me as they pulled down. I was only in underwear and those dropped shortly afterwards. I ran the water and adjusted the temperature to how I like it. Her hand played with the water running from the shower head, still puzzled by the small things from this time. Upon entering, the strong warrior had to jump back for a second from the water.

“How can you handle water this hot?” She exclaimed.

We laughed and I apologized before readjusting the temperature again. She let out a sigh of relief and let the water hit her naked body completely. My sinful eyes watched in pleasure as she applied soap over her body. From her broad shoulders, the muscles that poked out on them. To the water that fell upon her chest, the two hardened lumps that occupied her breasts. Finally, all the way down to the hairs on the middle of her pelvis. I applied some more soap to her body as for assistance, but I was truly worshipping the goddess in front of me.

“Turn around.”

“What?” She hesitated.

I nodded my head and gave a look as if I was demanding. Slowly, she obeyed and the deep cuts on her back from battle were exposed. It was always obvious to me that Eivor was insecure about her scars. The water fell down on her back washing the suds away, I placed my hand on her shoulder and she turned her head to the side with a concerned look. Eivor’s facial expressions relaxed when I started to place kisses from the back of her neck to the start of her waist. The mood changed completely when I pressed the front of my body to the back of hers, my arms wrapped around her sturdy abdomen.

“Eivor, you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. Don't you ever forget that.”

She turned around in one of the most vulnerable states I had seen her in, my words triggering something within her.

#female eivor #ac valhalla #assasinscreed #fem eivor #eivor #assasins creed valhalla #f!eivor #eivor x reader #fan fiction #fanfic

76 notes · View notes

impala-dreamer · 4 years

Text

Two Weeks Notice - Day Eight

~With the world practicing self-isolation, Y/N and Dean break all the rules of social distancing and common decency as they explore an empty bunker and use the time alone to their playful advantage…~

Dean x Reader

3,575 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Toy Play. Edging. Remote Control Vibe. Dom!Dean. Sir!Kink. Sex in an uncomfortable place (not the back of a volkswagen).

Two Weeks Notice Masterlist ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ My Original Works on Amazon

Y/N stood at the side of the bed and checked the time on her phone again, deciding enough was enough.

Very slowly, she slid into bed beside Dean and curled up next to him, tucking her knees and hands against her chest. She was careful not to touch him, not wanting him to wake just yet. She stared for a while, like she loved to do, attempting for the thousandth time to count every freckle on his sleeping face. She never made it past thirty before he either woke to disrupt her or she got so distracted by his beauty that she lay into kissing him instead.

She interrupted herself this time, too excited not to rouse him. With the tip of her index finger, Y/N softly traced the line of his nose from bridge to tip and then again as she whispered his name.

“Dean…”

He wriggled his nose and huffed. “I’m asleep.”

She laughed under her breath and ran her finger over his nose again. “Time to get up.”

He groaned and jerked his head to the side, trying to swat her away. “You promised me a nap.”

“And nap you did. It’s nearly three. Get up.” She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. She meant to hop out of bed immediately after, but Dean’s reflexes were quick, and he grabbed her arm, yanking her down for a proper kiss.

His arm locked her to him, clamping down and around the small of her back like a gate closing. He moaned into her mouth, leisurely licking at her gasping lips, and Y/N felt the stir of desire ready to distract her fully.

“Nope!” She pushed him back and sat up, quickly shaking off the shiver of need.

Dean popped up as well. “Excuse me?” His forehead creased adorably as he questioned her departure.

Y/N crossed her arms. “I have plans for today.”

Dean groaned and fell back against his pillow. “You always have plans.”

Offended, Y/N pushed at his nearest shoulder and damn near rolled him out of bed. “We can stop anytime you want. Just sit here and stare at the walls for another week.”

Dean sighed. “Fine.”

“Don’t fucking sigh at fucking. What’s wrong with you, old man?”

He half turned, glaring over his shoulder at her.

“Stop being grumpy and go get the blue box from under my bed.”

“You get it.”

Y/N swiftly removed her shirt and tossed it in his face. “You get it.”

Dean rubbed a tired hand down his face and sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. “Why do you need your photos now?”

“Photos are in the green box,” she corrected. “I want the blue box. It’s towards the headboard next to the hatchet.”

He paused, hand on the doorknob. “Why do you have a hatchet under your bed?”

Y/N shrugged and settled into the pillows. “Grimes Protocol.”

Dean laughed and shook his head as he stepped into the hallway. “The Walking Dead isn’t real, Y/N!”

Grinning, she shimmied out of her panties. “You don’t know what this Corona-thing is gonna do! I’d rather be safe than dead!”

Her room wasn’t very far and even if it was, with the empty hallway, it was easy enough to talk through the space between. His voice was a little muffled by the distance, but Y/N could just picture his face.

“Holy crap!”

“Pick one!”

“What do you mean pick one?”

Y/N sat up and pushed her voice towards the open door. “I mean, pick one and get back here with it!”

“Can I pick two?”

She chewed her lip for a moment. She knew what was in the box and would not be opposed to him using more than one at a time. Not at all.

Before she could reply, Dean yelled, “Hey, what’s this pink squiggly thing?”

Her eyes lit up and her nipples hardened with excitement. “Bring it!”

The ‘pink squiggly thing’ was an internal, remote controlled vibrator, and one of Y/N’s favorite toys. Dean was a little annoyed that she had never shared the contents of her toy box with him, and thus decided to use the remote control app to his advantage, in a little game that he was making up as he was going along.

For the rest of the day, Y/N was to wear the toy, and only the toy, as she went about her usual routine. There were plenty of chores to be done around the Bunker, and Y/N was going to do them all while Dean did whatever he wanted. The catch was simple: whenever she got buzzed, she would fall to her knees and crawl to wherever Dean was and service him in any way he chose. It was only fair.

After all, she had disturbed his nap.

There was something intensely erotic about walking around the Bunker naked. Dean had been nice enough to let her wear socks, as the floors were always cold, but the rest of her was completely bare, on display for the ghosts that haunted the tiles.

Of course, there weren’t really any ghosts, but as she walked down the halls, she imagined the Men of Letters of old gasping and clutching their hearts as they saw her defiling their sacred underground lair. Oh, how they’d lose their minds.

With a proud smile, she shook her hips a little more as she carried the laundry basket to the machine. Even under quarantine, socks must be washed.

As she set the basket down in front of the washer, she felt a wave of vibration deep inside her cunt. Her body stiffened and her muscles squeezed against it, momentarily blocking any brain function as the pleasure took her by surprise. When she could think, she immediately dropped to her knees on the cold tile and turned, ready to crawl to her newly appointed master.

Dean wasn’t far, leaning in the doorway with a smirk on his lips and his phone in hand. He swiped his finger across the app and the vibration intensified, making Y/N shiver as she crossed the room to sit at his feet.

“Very good!” he praised, resisting the urge to reach down and pat her head like a dog. He knew she liked to be degraded, but that would probably have earned him a hard flick in the nuts.

Y/N licked her lips and sat back on her heels, clenching her thighs as the buzzer kept doing its job. She looked up and smiled, waiting. “How may I service you, Dean?”

He hummed and dropped the intensity. “Dean,” he echoed. “Sounds so... informal.”

She bit back a smirk. “I’m sorry.” Clearing her throat and squeezing her tits together, she tried again. How may I service you, Mr. Winchester?”

“Better,” he said with a shrug, tapping his screen to make the buzzing pulse at a steady pace. “But...let’s try… Sir. I think I’d like to hear that.”

Y/N closed her eyes as a wave of pleasure overtook her momentarily. She’d been wanting to call him that forever, that and more, but it was an awkward conversation. However, if they were already playing, and he was offering…

“Yes, Sir,” she cooed, looking up at him and batting her eyes. “How may I service you?”

A smile broke out across his face. “Oh, I like the sound of that.” He cocked his head and looked her over, deciding where to start. “Why don’t you rub those pretty tits for me? I want to see how hard your nipples can get.”

Y/N bit her lip and nodded. “Yes, Sir.” Both hands cupped her breasts and she bounced them for him, watching as his eyes widened with delight. A few twists and tugs on her nipples had them standing tall and each tweak made her shoulders twitch.

When her breath began to get heavy and her eyes refused to open, Dean turned off the app and her vibrator and shoved his phone in his back pocket. “That’s all for now. Get back to work.”

Y/N’s eyes were huge as he spun on his heel and walked away, shocked that he was actually leaving her like that. “Fuck,” she whispered to herself as she climbed to her feet. “It’s gonna be a long day.”

Dean was in the Library when Y/N walked in with her duster. She and Sam had a routine worked out where she knocked the dust onto the floor and he mopped it up. Seemed sort of silly for her to be reaching up so high when he was so tall already, but she figured the boys liked watching her climb and stretch and bend.

Dean was certainly appreciating it now. He pretended to read a book, something he had grabbed from the shelf without looking at the spine as he jumped into the armchair to beat her into the room, but his eyes were glued to Y/N’s bare ass as she fluttered around the room, cleaning.

As she dusted, she hummed to herself. It was a sweet familiar melody, something that Dean felt had a Disney ring to it. He smiled and gave up the ruse, closing the book in his lap and resting his chin in his hand, elbow on the arm of the chair.

Her nakedness stood out starkly against the stacks of books; she looked like a faerie floating about, whipping away dust with her feathery wings.

“So this is love...do do do do... so this is love…” Y/N made her way through the Library, flicking away every drop of dust and totally ignoring Dean. She could feel his eyes on her body, following wherever she went, but she kept her mind on her task. When she felt that she’d done enough, she looked around, hands on her naked hips, and nodded. “Very nice.”

Another swoosh of feathers against the nearest shelf and she took off, heading into the next room. As her foot hit the bottom stop, her vibrating bat signal went off.

Taken so by surprise, the feather duster fell from her hand like an angel falling from heaven. “Oh my…” She moaned at the violent pulsing against her g-spot and sank to her knees, slowly turning towards Dean.

His eyes were dark and mischievous as he controlled the toy, thumb sliding back and forth across the screen, mucking with the intensity and speed of the vibrations. With his free hand, he crooked a finger at her and puckered his lips, calling to her with two quick air kisses. “Here, kitty, kitty.”

Y/N crawled to him, hands and knees flat on the polished floor, bare ass high and open for any eyes that would have a week ago been passing by. She shivered at the thought and bit her lip, holding in a tiny moan of weakness as Dean drove the toy to its highest setting.

As she grew closer, he let her stimulation ebb, slowly subsiding to a light and steady wave. She sank down further, laying on her forearms, panting slightly as she looked up at him.

Dean set the book down on the end table next to him and leaned forward, clasping his hands, elbows on his knees. “Hey there,” he grinned, body tingling with the power he held over her. “How ya feelin’?”

Almost out of breath, Y/N looked up, stretching her neck awkwardly to meet his gaze. “I’m pretty fucking horny, actually.”

Dean laughed and licked his lips. He scooted to the edge of the chair so he was even closer to her and whispered, “Is your pussy nice and wet?”

His voice ran down her spine like fire, and she nodded. “Very wet, Sir.”

He tapped his upper lip with one finger and then sat back, getting comfortable. “So play with it,” he ordered casually, resting one hand on his right thigh, watching.

Y/N swallowed hard and sat up, spreading her knees wide as she rested on her heels. One hand fell behind her, palm flat on the cold floor as the other slid down her belly and tapped gently on her clit. She bit her lip as the pleasure rolled through her; the vibe inside, her hand on her clit, it was all breathtaking and delicious.

Dean watched on as she rubbed, fiddling now and then with the controls. He loved the tremble in the soft flesh of her thighs; the way she began to bounce as if on his cock as she got closer to cumming. He kept a closer eye on that edge, making sure she rode it as long as possible without tipping over. When her stomach tightened too much, he eased up on the vibrations. When her panting ceased, he turned it up. When her eyes began to roll and her jaw hung slack, letting out heated moans, he cut the power, turning the toy off completely.

“Wha-hey!” Y/N’s eyes popped open and she pouted, near to tears as she was denied once more.

“Hands off, Princess,” he told her, clearing his throat and picking up his book. Dean crossed one leg and turned to a random page, tearing his eyes from Y/N’s shivering body. “Get back to work.”

She grumbled to herself as she struggled to her feet, using a nearby chair for help. “You suck.”

Dean lifted a brow, but not his head. “What’s that?”

“Nothing…”

Dinner came and went with Y/N still naked, sitting at the table on a dishcloth. Dean let her be for a while, keeping his phone and the app safely tucked in his pocket. She had even gotten used to being naked in the open. It felt sexy, freeing, if not a little chilly now and then.

Somehow, Dean managed to keep his hands off of her the entire day, not even accidentally brushing against her or playing footsie under the table. Nothing stopped him from looking, however, and he spent his quiet time memorizing the curves and movements that he never got to see in the dark. She was perfectly imperfect, just like him.

After dinner, Dean disappeared, leaving Y/N alone to do the dishes and clean up. She’d just about finished putting the utensils away when her page went off, sending jolts of pleasure through her body.

“Fuck.” She turned around, but Dean wasn’t in the room with her. “Dean?”

There was no answer, but the buzzing increased. Y/N dropped to her knees and crawled quickly from the kitchen, wondering where he’d gotten to and hoping the remote didn’t have too long of a range.

“Dean?” she called again to no response, growing more aroused and annoyed as the stunt went on. She’d have to crawl the entire Bunker looking for him if he didn’t answer. Her knees were starting to protest as she toddled up the steps into the War Room, but the pulsing in her cunt took some of the edge off.

“Where the hell are you?”

“Tisk. Tisk.” His voice boomed through the giant room, her toy speeding up as he scolded her. “Mind your manners, missy.”

Still on her hands and knees, Y/N looked around the War Room, unable to find him anywhere. He was a disembodied voice teasing her from another world.

“Dean, come on…”

“You need to crawl to me,” he said loudly, “that was the deal.”

She gasped as he pushed the toy to its limit. “Yeah but...where- fuck- are you?”

Y/N teetered on her knees as Dean laughed at her predicament. She crawled on, moving towards the table.

“Warmer.”

Biting her lip, she listened to his echoing directions, crawling closer to the table. When she reached it, the buzzing subsided enough to catch her breath, and she turned towards the Library archway.

“Colder!”

Y/N spun back and continued through the room. As she neared the stairs, the vibrations increased and Dean guided her home.

“Hot.”

Slowly, she sat back on her feet and looked up the long metal staircase.

Dean waved and grinned smugly from his seat at the chess set on the balcony. “Boiling.”

Y/N’s hands instinctively flew to her hips. “Are you kidding me?”

With a swipe of his finger, Dean upped the pleasure and Y/N fell back down into crawling position.

“Imma kill you.”

Dean laughed. “I don’t think that’s likely.”

One step at a time, Y/N climbed, fingers curling into the ornate grates, knees pushing into the smooth metal. It was cold and hard but she managed, keeping her mind in the gutter, comforted and fueled by the intimate pleasure of her favorite toy, controlled by her favorite asshat.

Dean hid his surprise well when she reached him, figuring Y/N would have given up halfway up the winding staircase. “Welcome,” he teased, lowering the speed. “Nice of you to join me.”

She was panting already, out of breath from her climb. “Nice of you to pick such an easily accessible location.”

Her sass was vibrant and Dean bit his lip, grinning.

“How’s your sweet little cunt doing?” he asked, tip of his tongue pressing between his teeth.

Y/N shivered. “It’s...good.”

“Just good?” His thumb waved over the controls, brushing the toggle back and forth.

“V-very good.”

Dean let her linger in that moment of fluctuating pleasure and sat back, opening his jeans while he watched her twitch. He set the control to a setting called “fireworks” and lay his phone down, taking his cock in his hands instead. He stroked it slowly while the explosions went off inside her pussy.

“What does it feel like?” he asked, lips puckering as he jerked his cock.

Eyes closed and lips shaking, Y/N shook her head, unable to find an answer. “Like...like you’re drumming inside me. Like lightning… like… fuck- I don’t know.” Her eyes popped open and locked on his erection, mouth flooding at the sight.

Dean smirked. “Do you want it?”

She nodded.

“Tell me where.”

She chewed her lip hard, brows furrowing tight, chest heaving. “I…”

Dean fisted his cock, squeezing at the base. “Tell me where you want it.”

“In my pussy,” she begged, chin quivering, near to tears. “Please, Dean. I need you to fuck me so bad.”

“Yeah?”

“Please!”

“Get up here.”

Moaning with relief, Y/N jumped up into his lap, kissing him wildly as his hands locked around her back. She licked into his mouth, bit at his ear, sucked his lip between her teeth. She’d been too crazed all day, too desperate to hold back any longer. She felt his cock against her belly and bounced, rubbing her throbbing clit against his veiny underside.

Dean grunted. His blunt nails dug into her ass.

“Fuck me, Dean.”

Her whisper floated through him and he grabbed her tight, standing up and spinning, dropping her onto the empty chess set. She gasped but settled quickly, wiggling into place on the oversized antique gameboard. He dropped his jeans, letting them collect around the tops of his boots and then reached down to yank the still vibrating toy from her cunt.

Y/N cried out as the toy dislodged, a flood of hot built-up slick running down her ass as it went. “Fuck!”

“I’m getting to it!” Dean huffed back, tossing the toy over his shoulder. It hit the railing and disappeared down below, to be remembered only by a faint buzzing as it danced across the glowing table.

Y/N grabbed hold of the back of his neck and scooted down to the edge of the board, wrapping her legs tight around him. He sank inside without hesitation or restriction, covering himself in her wet flesh, hiding deep inside.

It was fast and hard, the way she came on his cock; her pussy clamping down on him as he thrust in and out. Hours of torture, being played with and edged had left her a sloppy mess, and Dean savored every second. He kissed her breathless, keeping his eyes open so he could watch hers roll. He nipped at her collarbone and rubbed at her clit.

She had been waiting all day, but so had he.

The pawns and bishops rolled inside the table, safe in their velvet cubbies. The pink toy died a slow death, battery draining somewhere around South America.

Above the empty Bunker, not far from the big steel door, Dean made her cum again, rolling her first orgasm into another, his thumb winding around her clit until she screamed at the soreness, slapping him away.

He set his hands beside her head, fingers curling around the edges of the old wood, pulling it close as his hips pushed forward. The thick muscles of his arms strained against his shortsleeves and Y/N pressed her nails deep into his biceps, clawing at him, her teeth grit, eyes dark and exhausted.

“Come on, Dean,” she urged, voice deep and cracking. “Give it to me, please.”

His jaw clenched, sweat beading on his upper lip and brow.

“Cum inside me, Dean. Please.”

Another rough jerk of his hips sent him over. Dean trembled over her, phantom thrusts pushing him even deeper as he emptied into her.

When the best had passed, he looked down with a goofy smile. Green eyes glazed, freckled cheeks bright, lips swollen and red as he laughed, “Checkmate.”

2020 Forever Tags:

@akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @amanda-teaches @because-imma-lady-assface @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @cheritzie @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansotherotherblog @deansgirl215 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @dontshootmespence @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @hannahindie @herbologystudent252 @ilsawasanacrobat @justcallmeasmodeus @ladyjenny19 @laxe-from-outer-space @mariekoukie6661 @missjenniferb @msjava1972 @mylovelydame21 @mysticmaxie @pilaxia @sandlee44 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @squirrelnotsam @tatted-trina6 @typicalweirdbookworm

TWN:

@rebelemilu @pastathighs @deans-baby-momma @bobbie3939 @peachyafshawn @spencer-reids-babygirl @akrasiaev @shadowkat-83 @deangirl7695 @foxyjwls007 @bxbyizzy @chenshemesh1 @pandaxo79

#dean x reader #series #smuttt #fluff #dean winchester x reader

166 notes · View notes

bang-tan-bitches · 5 years

Text

Title: Covet Word Count: 3.1k+ Rating: NSFW Genre: Smut or PWP, Drama Warnings: Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex (F Receiving), Cream Pie, Implied Come Eating, Praise Kink, Mild Dirty Talk, Slight Manipulative Behavior, Non-Linear Narrative Pairings: Jimin x Reader x Taehyung Summary: Agreeing to meet Lee Ji-Hye’s boyfriend Park Jimin was your first mistake Written by: Admin B

“You’re doing so good baby. Do you think you can take another? I gotta stretch open this beautiful ass of yours.”

You shift back against Taehyung’s chest, his words warming your already flushed skin. You nod your head and whimper slightly at the feeling of a third finger slipping through the tight ring of muscle.

“Look at our good girl, Jiminie. Isn’t she gorgeous?” Taehyung’s voice is a pleasant murmur as his other hand tweaks your nipple.

You glance down towards Jimin, who is kneeling between your legs, leaving hot opened mouth kisses on your inner thighs. His dark, dark eyes burn into yours as he answers, “Fucking perfect.”

You can’t stop your gasp when he spreads your legs wider and buries his face in your soaking wet cunt.

-0-0-0-

You loved Lee Ji-Hye like a sister.

You met at Seoul National University. You, a young, foreign exchange student struggling with being in a foreign land, and her, the older, beautiful student that took you under her wing. She was hired straight out of college at YG Entertainment and she made sure that once you graduated, you received an offer of employment there as well. You were hired as an International Media Relations Specialist and while you had no contact with idols, unlike Ji-Hye, you still worked closely with her and became close friends. Best friends.

When YG Entertainment fell into scandal, you followed her to BigHit Entertainment. She was your confidant in everything and you trusted her with your life.

Agreeing to meet her boyfriend Park Jimin was your first mistake.

You kept refusing at first. You honestly had no idea why Ji-Hye wanted you to meet the Park Jimin. You knew the facts. He is a member of one of the world's biggest Kpop boybands, he can dance, he can sing, and he was absolutely gorgeous. You had no reason to ever cross paths with him. While you did work for BigHit Entertainment, your job was dealing with the media and foreign press. You had absolutely zero contact with any of the idols and you were actually thankful for that. When Ji-Hye started dating Park Jimin, you never dreamed you would actually meet him.

Ji-Hye had to practically beg for weeks before you finally relented. You told her repeatedly that Park Jimin wouldn’t be interested in meeting a little nobody like you, but she begged to differ. She told you how she had been talking his ear off about you since they met and it was actually Jimin who asked to meet you first. Although you were skeptical, you agreed once she promised it would only be one time and she would never ask you again.

She lied.

-0-0-0-

“Oh Jagi, you’re so wet.” Jimin’s voice is a reverent groan between licks of your pussy, “You’ve needed us, haven’t you? It’s okay baby, we’ll give you everything you need. We’ll take care of you.”

You can barely breathe out a “please” before Jimin latches onto your clit and sucks. Your body spasms as it’s thrown into an unexpected orgasm and Taehyung has to hold you down against him as he continuously fucks your ass with his fingers.

“I need you both inside me.”

Both of your boys still at your words, and you can tell they are having some sort of private conversation with their eyes. You watch as Jimin shifts up onto his knees and rubs his thumb along your pussy lips before dipping it inside of you.

“Are you sure, pretty baby?” Taehyung’s voice is a warm rumble in your ear as he slips his fingers out of you, “Are you sure you’re ready for both of us?”

You lick your lips and make eye contact with Jimin.

“Yes.”

-0-0-0-

The first time you met him was a pleasant surprise. You weren’t really sure what you were expecting, but Park Jimin was as nice as he was gorgeous. As the three of you sat in a small circle booth in the back of a smoke filled bar, his attention seemed to be focused entirely on you. He seemed utterly fascinated with everything you had to say and was constantly redirecting the conversation back to you. If it was anyone other than Park Jimin doing this when his girlfriend was sitting right next to him, you would have considered it rude and think he was blatantly hitting on you in front of his girl. But when you glanced at Ji-Hye, she was staring at him with a look of complete adoration on her face and you realized he was just making an effort to know his girl’s best friend.

By the end of the night you completely understood why Ji-Hye was so wrapped up in Park Jimin and you were happy for her. Jimin truly was the perfect guy. It was only a week later when you found yourself in the same tiny booth in the same smoke filled bar surrounded by the same people and one addition - Kim Taehyung.

You had learned all about Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung through your time living in South Korea. BTS were superstars and it was hard to be anywhere in South Korea without hearing about them.

Taehyung was equally, if not more so, charming than Jimin. Between the two of them, your glass was never empty and anything you wanted or needed they didn’t hesitate to get for you, no questions asked. Again, the conversation seemed to revolve entirely around you. Jimin and Taehyung seemed to have an abundance of questions to ask and never seemed to grow tired of listening to your answers. At first, you were suspicious that this was some kind of double date set up, but besides the pointed looks Jimin and Taehyung would exchange when they thought you weren’t looking, Taehyung never made a move on you.

You were equally relieved and disappointed.

-0-0-0-

“You gotta relax baby.” Jimin’s voice is soothing as he helps spread you open for Taehyung to slide inside your ass.

You try not to tense, but it burns as Taehyung slips the head of his cock inside you and buries his face in your neck. You close your eyes and grasp at Taehyung’s forearms as you feel your body stretch to accommodate his thick length.

You pant and clench when Taehyung bottoms out at the same time Jimin’s warm, wet mouth latches onto your nipple. His tongue laves over it before suckling softly.

“You need to hurry up Jiminie,” Taehyung’s voice is a strained groan as he tries not to thrust, “I’m gonna end up blowing my load before you even get inside of her. Our girl feels like heaven. I swear she was made for us.”

-0-0-0-

Before long, the four of you were constant companions and you found yourself squeezed between the two kpop idols more often than not. You didn’t find it odd when Jimin and Taehyung would bring you coffee to your office or leave you random gifts they brought back from trips to foreign countries. You assumed they did the same for Ji-Hye.

Then one day, Ji-Hye was visiting your office and was fiddling with a beautiful golden paperweight on your desk. When you casually mentioned that the boys had brought it back from their most recent visit to America, she had gotten the strangest look on her face. She left shortly after that and you shrugged off the look. Ji-Hye was always pretty straight forward with you, so you figured the look probably had something to do with a scheduling conflict she had coming up, but you couldn’t let go of the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

Later that week you were finally able to pry out of her that the boys, that Jimin, never brought her gifts or coffee or anything. That things seem to be cooling off between them and she didn’t know what to do. That Jimin hadn’t had sex with her since the night he met you. While her tone wasn’t in any way accusatory, you still felt like she blamed you. You decided the only way to fix this was to stop accepting their gifts and to distance yourself from them.

Your decision to avoid them was your second mistake.

-0-0-0-

Taehyung nuzzles your neck as his hands grip your thighs to spread you wider for Jimin. You glide your fingers through Jimin’s hair before his mouth unlatches from your nipple with a wet pop. He sits back on his knees and strokes himself slowly.

“Look at you Jagi. Spread open and so slick and swollen. You’re dripping for us. Such a pretty picture.”

You can feel your breath catch when he lines himself up, running his length slowly along your slit. He presses a hand against your abdomen to hold you still as he slowly feeds his cock into you. His eyes are locked onto the place where you are joined.

“That’s it baby. I know it’s a tight fit, but you can do it. Take it all.”

-0-0-0-

You could freely admit that it wasn’t easy avoiding them and your heart clenched painfully every time you returned a gift they left. You questioned whether you were making the right choice because even though you were doing this for Ji-Hye, your friendship was still strained. You hoped that she would see the lengths you were willing to go for her. You hoped that this would fix her relationship with Jimin, but you had the feeling that your friendship would never be the same.

After almost two months of having successfully avoided the boys, you were caught off guard to receive a phone call from Ji-Hye begging you to come out with them to an art exhibit. You declined at first, but after hearing the desperation in her voice you reluctantly agreed.

Walking up to the gallery, you could see them standing outside waiting for you. Ji-Hye looked visibly upset while Jimin and Taehyung looked tense. Taehyung’s expression was stony indifference and Jimin seemed agitated. When they finally noticed you, all their expressions changed. Jimin and Taehyung immediately straightened up and large, happy grins spread across their faces. They both reached for you at the same time and you ended up pressed between them in a warm hug. When you glanced at Ji-Hye, she gave you a forced smile. The evening was spent with you wrapped up between the boys as they showed you the art pieces they loved and while you tried to include Ji-Hye, she was quiet and seemed distracted.

This started a pattern where Ji-Hye would continually invite you out places and make you feel guilty if you refused. You would finally agree and before the trio noticed you arrived, the boys would look angry and Ji-Hye would look upset. Once you alerted them to your presence, Taehyung and Jimin would positively beam and shower you with attention, while Ji-Hye would watch you three with an odd look on her face, almost as if she was trying to solve a puzzle.

Letting Ji-Hye guilt you into these outings was your third mistake.

-0-0-0-

“So good baby, So tight.”

You didn’t have words to describe how full you felt. Pressed between the two idols, one sliding out as the other pushed in. Jimin licked inside your mouth before kissing you deeply, one hand holding your hip while the other held the back of your head.

Taehyung was leaving wet, sloppy kisses on your neck between whispers of affection and hard thrusts of his hips. You let Jimin dominate your mouth, his tongue swallowing your gasps and moans.

You could feel your orgasm building inside of you. It was coming on fast and you felt yourself press closer to Jimin, trying to rub your clit against him.

“You gonna come pretty baby? You gonna come all over us?” You felt the warm fingers of Taehyung’s hand snake down your body before circling your clit.

The feel of Taehyung’s warm fingers touching your hot, slippery clit sent you into an immediate, explosive orgasm. Jimin pulled away from your mouth and let out a guttural “Fuck!” at the feeling of you clenching and shivering around him.

-0-0-0-

This happened several times before something in Ji-Hye’s countenance changed. She seemed happy when you showed up and would immediately monopolize your time together. You almost felt bad for ignoring the kpop superstars, but you were excited to have your friend back. It was almost like before, except for the smug smiles she would give the boys that she thought you didn’t notice.

Things continued this way for awhile before everything came to a head at one of Bighit Entertainment's exclusive idol parties. You had never been to one, but Ji-Hye was invited and asked you to be her plus one. You readily agreed, equal parts excited to attend an idol party and see the guys in tuxedos. Once at the party, you went to the bar while Ji-Hye went looking for Jimin.

That was where you met Jung Hoseok.

He sidled up next to you and introduced himself before commenting on how clever Ji-Hye was. Hoseok remarked that while he didn’t agree with Ji-Hye’s tactics, he could appreciate such an underhanded move. It was practically criminal. When you voiced your confusion to what Hoseok was referring to, he smiled genuinely at your naivety before explaining everything.

Jimin and Taehyung were clearly in love with you. Jimin hadn’t broken up with Ji-Hye because she was your best friend and he knew that you wouldn’t choose him over your friendship. But Jimin was selfish and still wanted to be around you. Ji-Hye realized this and used it to her advantage. She loved Jimin and wanted to keep him. When he started distancing himself from her, she would entice him out places with the promise of you being there. Taehyung would come too because he was equally, if not more, in love with you than Jimin. Ji-Hye would flaunt you in front of them knowing that you were what they desperately wanted, but couldn’t have.

It was cruel and it was vicious.

-0-0-0-

You could feel yourself gush around your boys, their grips tightening on you as they thrust. The wet sounds your body was making urging them on.

“Fuck jagi, is this all for us?” Jimin’s words were breathless as he slowed his pace, leaning back to watch his cock slide in and out of your dripping cunt.

“I told you Jiminie,” Taehyung’s voice was husky and deep, “She’s the one. Our girl was made for us. Weren’t you baby?”

You can do little more than nod and turn your head against Taehyung’s shoulder, peppering kisses on his neck. You feel him groan against you and pick up the pace, sliding into you harder.

“Oh baby, I’m gonna come soon. You gonna let me fill this pretty pussy up?”

Jimin’s words cause you to clench and tighten, both men gasping at the sensation.

“You like that jagi? You like hearing how Jiminie is gonna fill up that perfect little cunt of yours? How the thought of you dripping with our come has me ready to flood this tight, beautiful ass?”

You can’t stop your orgasm at Taehyung’s words. Your body trembles and squeezes both boys inside you, triggering their own ends. Jimin presses against you, his mouth open in a quiet groan as his thrusts turn sloppy and uncoordinated. Taehyung is completely still, his breathing harsh as he pulses inside you, both men filling you up.

“That’s it pretty baby, let us give you everything.”

-0-0-0-

And in the end, it was all true.

The confrontation between yourself, Ji-Hye, Jimin, and Taehyung was brief and anti-climactic and could hardly be called a confrontation at all.

Ji-Hye admitted to everything. Disregarding your years of friendship in pursuit of trying to keep her dying relationship intact. Jimin and Taehyung both confessed to being in love with you and while they did not go about handling it in the right way, they did not regret a thing.

You were saddened to know that you lost your best friend, even though you could admit, if only to yourself, that you hadn’t felt like best friends in a long time. And while you did care a great deal for the kpop superstars, you weren’t sure if it was love.

But you were willing to find out.

-0-0-0-

Jimin continues to press soft kisses against your forehead before pulling out, watching his come leak out of you.

“Oh baby, that’s a beautiful sight.” You smile bashfully at his words and feel Taehyung shift behind you before slipping out completely.

“You’re perfect baby. Jimin knew the moment he saw your picture that you were the one for us.” Taehyung presses a soft kiss to your shoulder as he maneuvers your body against the soft pillows on the large bed.

“My picture?” You ask, as you sink further into the pillows and blankets, feeling boneless and completely satisfied.

Jimin and Taehyung share a significant look that causes you to tense in alarm. “What about my picture? What aren’t you telling me?”

Taehyung quickly disappears into the adjoining bathroom, while Jimin slides up the bed to lay next to you, softly running his fingers through your hair.

“Don’t get upset jagi. Please don’t get upset. It’s just that when Ji-Hye and I started seeing each other, she talked about you a lot. It's hard to trust people in this industry. I had to make sure you were legit.”

You nod in understanding to Jimin’s words when Taehyung returns with a warm wash cloth and proceeds to clean you gently between your legs.

“Hoseok-hyung was able to get your personal files easily enough and once I saw your pretty face, I was hooked. I had to learn everything I possibly could, but I wanted more. I wanted to meet you. I was able to talk Ji-Hye into introducing us, and that first night was incredible. You are incredible baby. I had to tell Taehyung.”

You glance at Taehyung, who had discarded the used wash cloth and was slowly running his fingertips along your side. “It’s true. You were all he could talk about. He told me that you were our girl, that you were meant for us. I wanted to meet you, so he had Ji-Hye set it up. Jimin was right, the moment I saw you… I knew you were the one.”

You try to sit up, glaring at Jimin, “You used Ji-Hye! That’s not right. She didn’t deserve that.”

“Yes, I used Ji-Hye, but Ji-Hye used you too. Who cares. The fact is that we don’t love Ji-Hye. We love you. You’re our girl.” Jimin’s words were soft, but firm. He pressed a kiss to your temple before showering your face in softer, sweeter kisses as he presses you back against the bed.

“And we’re your boys.” Taehyung’s words came out muffled from the press of his lips on your stomach.

When Taehyung's kisses shift lower and he slides your legs over his shoulders, you close your eyes and accept the truth… they are your boys.

#park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #Kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #park jimin x reader x Kim taehyung #jimin x reader x taehyung #park jimin x you #Kim taehyung x you #jimin x you #taehyung x you #park jimin x you x Kim taehyung #jimin x you x taehyung #bts fanfiction #bts #bts smut #Park jimin smut #Kim taehyung smut

1K notes · View notes

diaryofabeautyfiend · 4 years

Text

Small Time Witch (23)

...haunted

Main Street is lined with cute little bars and restaurants. On most nights they were pleasantly crowded. You and Loki would frequent such establishments and you had gotten to know some of their patrons. After the snap, some of the little bars were shuttered. The ones that were still open were far less lively. People would gather to commiserate, to cry. Mostly people were tired of drinking alone.

At least twice a week you would ride your bike to Captain Kidd’s Inn and drain half a bottle of Jameson with the bar tender Jason. He lost his wife in the snap. You would usually stay until last call which happened to be whenever Jason felt like closing up. He would offer to take you home and you’d usually end up fucking.

There was absolutely nothing behind it. The two of you just needed to feel. Some nights it would be quick and dirty then he’d leave. Neither of you would say a word. Most of the time you didn’t even get undressed. On some occasions you would drink more then pass out in bed together.

You didn’t sleep in the master bedroom with him. You stayed in Thor’s massive bed where the two of you could sleep as far apart as possible. It was nice to feel the mattress sag with his weight. Occasionally you would sleep on his chest when you really needed it. He never pushed you away. Sometimes he would rest on your stomach and cry silently in the dark.

Anytime he spent the night, you dreamt of Loki. The first time it happened he didn’t say anything. He just looked displeased. When it happened more frequently he began to make comments. He mentioned how you stunk of whiskey or how he hated seeing you with another man. You never answered him. It was just a dream.

After the tenth time you decided to bite back. “You’re dead. You left me. You don’t have the right to be angry at me. Piss off, ghost.”

It took him a while but he finally summoned enough power to manifest a spectral version of himself. When Jason left Loki appeared. It was only for a moment. You didn’t trust your eyes. You threw back some water and headache medicine and retired to the couch.

A few days later you noticed the bedroom door was open. You only ever went in there to grab new clothes. You didn’t shower in your bathroom and you never disturbed the bed. When you left the room you always locked the door. When you went to close it you swore you saw him sitting in your chair in your reading nook. You felt too ashamed to go to the bar after that.

Jason texted to see if you would be around. You thought about ignoring him but couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You just said you needed some alone time. He said he’d be by later to check on you.

That’s what people did now. They checked on each other. At around 12:30 there was a knock on your door. It wasn’t Jason on the other end. It was Hilde.

You were pretty certain no one called her by her name. Everyone just called her Valkyrie. You were the only person who bothered to ask what it was. Thor randomly sent her to check on you. He couldn’t bear to look at you after the final failed attempt to right this tragedy. She didn’t mind driving out. It was a welcome escape for her from New Asgard.

It started with her bringing you food (which you didn’t need) then morphed into good friends drinking and laughing. She was the only one who made you laugh these days. Then it turned into sloppy drunken make out sessions to full on fucking.

You loved fucking her. She was soft and always smelled divine like salty sea air. She was an absolute wizard with her tongue and fingers. She taught you how to eat her pussy. You were an excellent student.

You stepped aside and let her in without a word. You pulled her to you by her belt and swallowed her tongue. She was always so hungry for you her Kærasta. From the little Norwegian Loki had taught you, you knew that meant girlfriend. Though you never put a label on it you supposed you were.

“You smell like the bartender” she said breathless.

“Sorry. Come shower with me. I’ll get rid of him” you smiled against her neck.

You pulled her towards the hall bathroom. Though not nearly as big as the master, Loki had to make sure Thor could fit comfortably in the shower. It was more than enough room for the two of you.

“Don’t you have a big bathtub in your bedroom?” You froze.

“Yeah. I don’t use it.”

“Can we tonight? I need to relax.”

“I haven’t since...Loki and I....”

“Sssshhh, Elskan. We don’t have to. I just thought it would be nice.” She slipped her hand into the waistband of your leggings and was pleased to find no panties underneath. You braced against the wall as she expertly teased your clit.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt” you whispered.

“That’s my good girl.”

You rinsed a layer or two of dust out of the tub and fished a new sponge out of the cabinet. She undressed and pinned up her hair. Once the tub was filled, she slid into the spot that Loki usually occupied.

The tub was wide enough for her to spread her legs. You sat facing her and she pulled you in so your cunts were pressed up against each other.

You kissed again pressing as hard into her body as you could. She held you with one hand and tweaked your nipple with the other. Before long the pressure was too great and you had to move. You rode each other into your first of many climaxes that night.

You spent the rest of your bath soaping each other’s bodies and she washed your hair. When you got out you slicked each other with one of your oils and she braided your hair. The whole thing was so intimate. You loved pampering each other. Clearly you both needed the attention.

She pulled you onto the bed and felt your body hesitate. “Do you want to go to another room?”

“No. It’s ok. I just haven’t slept in this bed in ages.”

Her face split into a smile that was so sinful a fresh burst of wetness trickled out of your snatch. “Oh, Kærasta. You think daddy would drive all this way at this time of night to sleep?” She grabbed one of your nipples between her teeth and shook your breast like a dog. You giggled for the first time in forever. That’s when your water glass flew onto the floor and shattered.

“Shit. I wasn’t even near it.” You crawled across the bed to get to the door. You came rushing back in with a broom. She moved to help you, “No. Stay on the bed. I’ve got it. I guess he didn’t like that.”

“He who?” She looked around the room suspiciously.

“This is going to sound silly but, I think Loki visits. I know. I should seek help.”

“I wouldn’t exactly be surprised. It would piss him off royally to know that I was bedding his wife. We never really got along.” Her laugh was carefree and melodic. You were visibly upset. “Hey, Y/N. I’ll stop. I’ll hold you all night if you want. But, I think you need. A. Release.” She kissed her way down the column of your neck. You melted in her palm.

“I need both.” She laid you down on the bed and spread your legs. She licked her way up her thigh to your dripping pussy and slowly dipped in her tongue into your folds.

“You’re always so wet for me, Kærasta. Do you like it when daddy licks your pretty pussy?”

“Mmmm. Yes, daddy. I want your fist.”

“What my good girl wants, my good girl gets.” She massaged your opening with her thumbs inserting them and pulling you apart gently. She coaxed the muscles helping you relax. She flattened her tongue and pulsed it gently. The sensation was overwhelming. She eased in three fingers helping you to stretch more. You arched your back off the mattress.

“Fuck. Daddy that feels so good. I need more.” She buried her hand up to her wrist. It burned but it felt exquisite. You fucked back into her face and came harder than you had in a long time.

“I want to make you cum. Sit on my face” you said as she plunged her tongue back into your mouth.

You pulled her on top of you and hooked your arms around her to pull her thighs taught. You pulled her down and licked slowly around the opening then plunged in your tongue. She gasped and grabbed on to the headboard. You made slow concentric circles around her clit. Every now and then you’d suck a little making sure to get the hood too. Two fingers fucked deep into her cunt carefully manipulating the soft spongy button inside. You picked up the pace building a rhythm that had her moaning and cursing. You moaned back to encourage her. When her thighs started to shake you pulled her down harder so she could fuck your face bathing you in her juices.

You licked her until she relaxed. She slid off of you and down to the bed. You wiped your faces on a towel and wrapped your body around hers. For once you were able to make her relax and feel like a precious little spoon. She hummed and smiled in her sleep.

As you drifted off you felt Loki looming around you. You held Hilde tighter hoping the feeling would go away. It only grew stronger. Unable to rest you slid your arm from under her and went to the kitchen for tea. When you heard Loki’s voice you nearly dropped your cup.

“My lord! You don’t need to scare me like that! Am I dreaming again?”

He was sitting at the kitchen table staring at you longingly. He wished you could sit on his lap and kiss him until the steam came screaming from the kettle. It was an act that you preformed so many times that it seemed trivial. Nothing seems trivial anymore. “No. You are very much awake. Is this what you do now? You bring random people into our bed? Drink every night until you pass out?”

“Oh calm down. It’s Valkyrie. I like her. She makes me feel something. I mostly don’t feel anything like I’m not here.”

“Yes, I’m sure she’s thoroughly amused that she makes you scream her name in our marital bed.” He spat the words at you. All of the joy snapped from your face. It hurt him to see it.

Over the last few weeks he watched you split more and more as you straddled the world of the living and the world of the dead. He was doing no better. Hel was pushing him to make a decision whether he would ask you to join him or use your magic to separate from him. As much as he wanted to be with you, it wasn’t your time. To him you barely had the chance to live. You deserved to have babies and grow old with someone. He was doing the exact thing he promised he wouldn’t. He was selfishly keeping you all to himself. This night he decided to tell you about the spell.

“I’ve been thinking and I may know a way to fix all of this. There is a healer in New Asgard who trained under my mother. She is familiar with Freyr’s magic.”

“I know. Hilde told me about her. We’ve already come up with the spell.”

“Then why haven’t you done it?”

“Because when I do your magic will fade from the house, the grounds, our rings...me. I’m not ready to let you go.”

“I am not ready either but I think it’s time, Pet. We can’t go on this way. You feel empty because part of you is literally dead. I hate that I’m doing this to you:”

“I’m not ready. I’m still trying to figure out a way to bring you back.”

He sighed heavily, “I’m not coming back this time, Y/N. You know in your heart that I’m not. You need to move on. I want you to love and have children and grow old. We’ll be together again.”

You were completely offended. The girl you were when you met your husband was not the woman you were now. You were unbridled and a force magically. He helped you to become this woman. How could you put all of that away now just to have a white picket life?

Maybe another lifetime ago you wanted kids and barbecues in the back yard. This you wanted passion and madness. He was the Clyde to your Bonnie and his outlaw heart was yours forever. But, if he wanted to be free of you, that’s what he’d get.

He saw the fire burning in your eyes. He longed to know what you were thinking. You were seething but shook it off, gave him a sweet smile and said, “You’re right. I’ll go back to see the healer with Hilde tomorrow. I’m glad we had this talk.”

“You look angry. Please don’t be angry. I love you so much. I don’t want you to die, Y/n. I’m sorry I’m gone but you’ve barely lived. Please understand this. Can you say it back?” He was desperate to touch you, to connect one more time. “Norns, wife! Will you look at me and say you love me too?! Please!”

Your voice was cold and unfeeling, “I’m not your wife. I’m your widow. Goodbye, Loki.”

You didn’t look back to see if he left. Your heart felt like it was plunged into ice. You strode back into your bedroom and used your magic to fling open his closet doors and dresser drawers. You put all of his clothes into a pile. Hilde woke up to the sound and shook the last tendrils of sleep from her head.

“Kærasta, what are you doing?” She got out of bed and threw on a tshirt. You wouldn’t look at her. She followed you and the bundle of clothes down the hall to the yard where you set them. A fireball grew in your hands and you sent it sailing into the clothes. They went up with a whoosh. She wrapped her arms around your waist and watched with you until it burned out.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” she said against the shell of your ear.

“I think my dead husband just broke up with me.” You both laughed but your laughter faded into sobs.

“Come on. Let’s go back to bed.” She held your hand all the way down the hall. You both stripped and got back under the covers. She kissed your cheeks then your eyelids then your forehead. You finally fell asleep nestled into her body.

You felt Loki’s sadness all night. He looked on from your reading loft watching your chest rise and fall, your body being comforted by someone else. If his heart was beating he thought it may have stopped the moment you left the kitchen. It was evident by the way your mood so easily shifted that you needed to be released from this burden.

——————————————————————

Loki returned back to the underworld feeling more conflicted than he did earlier in the evening. His daughter was waiting for him eager to hear his thoughts on the matter at hand.

“Welcome home, Father.” She kissed his cheek and ushered him into a soft chair.

“It seems my darling wife is angry with me. Am I wrong? Should I have done things differently?”

Hel thought for several minutes opening her mouth to speak occasionally but closing it just as quick. “Shouldn’t she have chosen her fate, Daddy Dearest?” she cocked her head to the side awaiting his answer.

“Perhaps. It would have been the wrong decision.”

“How do you know? Why are you so afraid of her being here? Am I not a hospitable hostess?”

“Of course you are, my baby. I’m afraid...”he hesitated to say out loud what he feared the moment you put on those infernal rings. “I’m afraid she’ll regret being with only me for all eternity.”

“Pity you never got the chance to know what she actually wanted. When the ritual is performed tomorrow, I’ll give you a moment to touch her warm skin before you are split from each other. Savor it, Father.”

————-————————————————-—

You woke up feeling uneasy and unsure of yourself. Anytime you felt this way you called Steve. He had a knack for talking you off the proverbial ledge. You explained the conversation and how angry you were.

“If he gave you a choice, would you choose to put on that ring or live? You already wrote the spell right?”

“I had it as a back up in case I couldn’t bring him back.”

“So in both instances, you chose to live which is exactly what he is asking you to do. It seems like you’re not conflicted at all, my dear. Sounds like you are angry that you don’t have him anymore. You’re allowed to be angry, Y/N. I certainly am.”

You were quiet. You hadn’t thought about it that way. “Why do you always know what to say?”

He chuckled, “I know how that brain of yours works. Can I come with you? I’ll drive you back.”

You didn’t know how you would be after but knew you didn’t want to be alone. Hilde couldn’t stay away for too long. “I would love it if you came.”

Steve arrived in under an hour. This was his first time meeting Hilde. When he extended his hand she pulled him in for a hug. She smelled like you all warm and spicy. He didn’t ask but judging by her constant touching, he could imagine.

The drive up was quiet. Hilde kept a protective hand on your thigh the entire way there. When you first started hanging out you made her a playlist of your favorite Midgardian pop songs. You made her a new one every time she came to visit. The one she had blaring on the radio was your road trip mix. She sang at an obnoxious volume trying to get you to sing along. When “Shut Up and Drive” popped on you couldn’t help but laugh. You sang at the top of your lungs right back at her. For someone so ancient she certainly had the spirit of a twenty something woman.

When you arrived in New Asgard Thor met you with the healer. Maja was an old careworn. Her eyes were soft and knowing. She took you by the hand and lead you into her space. Thor was noticeably silent as she explained the task at hand. When she asked for your wedding rings Thor asked everyone to leave for a moment.

“I don’t think I have to ask how you are feeling, sister. I’m sure it’s the same way I feel. Hopeless.”

“I’m beyond that now. I’ve tried everything, Thor. I can’t bring him back.”

He sniffled and turned away from you so you couldn’t see him cry, “He’s the last of my family, Y/N. This just feels so...permanent.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist. He hugged you back and you both cried.

“What a sorry pair you two make.” Loki appeared in the room solid but glowing. You reached out your hand and he took it kissing his way up your arm.

“What? What is this, Brother?”

“Your niece sends her love. In a cruel twist of fate, the spell is only truly successful if both of the souls are near each other. The rings are a fine substitute but my darling daughter thought she would gift her new mother with one more moment.”

You felt like all the air was sucked out of you. He ran his hands over your skin trying to etch your warmth and softness onto his soul. He spoke to Thor but never took his eyes off of yours. Thor squeezed his little brother with all of his might. Loki never let your hand go.

When Maja and the others came back into the room they didn’t exactly look shocked but they were confused. Maja promised to explain later.

She had the two of you join hands just as before and you each held your rings. She spoke a language you didn’t understand and once again came the golden light. This time it receded from the two of you rather than the Yggdrasil. You began to feel him fading from you and you broke down. He pulled you towards his body and held you with all his might.

Once the ritual was almost completed Maja spoke to the two of you directly. “Once I say this last part, your soul will not be able to sustain itself here on Midgard. If there is anything left to say, now is the time.”

You looked into his eyes and cleared your throat, “You talked so much about how you were never enough. Not to your people your father or even your brother. You should know you are everything to me. All I can hope is that I’ve been enough for you. I will never stop fighting for us, Lok. In this life or the next, we will be together again. I swear it.”

He didn’t have a speech for you. No pearls of wisdom to send you off into the rest of your life. He held your face in his hands and kissed you for the last time. This was not a kiss of arousal but of love and the feverish need to consume you. His mouth tasted salty. You weren’t sure if was your tears or his. The two of you embraced while Maja continued. He pressed his lips to your ear and whispered “I love you” over and over again. Your cries were too loud to hear the final words. You felt the last shreds of him falling from your fingertips. On a breath of air he was gone.

Steve held you as you sank down to the floor. Thor and Hilde sat down with you. The three of them held you and cried along with you but all for very different reasons. Your rings, now unremarkable clippings of the Yggdrasil tumbled from your hand. Steve picked them up and put them in his pocket.

You didn’t stay around much longer. Thor retreated back home. You made him promise to come visit even though he would never step foot in your house again.

Hilde kissed you and said she would be back soon. “You will call me tonight and at least ten times a day until I see you again, Kærasta. Say yes.”

“Yes, I will. Thank you for being there today.” You offered her a weak smile and she kissed you again. You grabbed Steve’s hand and held it all the way home.

#marvel #marvel witches #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #mcu x reader #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #steve rogers x reader #loki angst #valkyrie x reader

17 notes · View notes