#it’s like…… if you took one of those self-heating masks and made the effect much less potent

[mabelsguidetolife]

i like when you do some light skincare and you can feel your facial circulation improve

[romione-trope-fest]

A Wizard In Heat

Today’s second fic is a Fuck or Die from CandyMan91!

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Fic Title: A Wizard In Heat Author Name: CandyMan91 Selected Trope: Fuck or Die Brief Summary: Ron needs something to calm his nerves before the first Quidditch Match of the year. Hagrid supplies him with something that effectively makes him far less nervous than normal, but its other effects may be his doom. Word Count: 5,285 words Rating: M

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

It was the day before the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch match, and Ron was feeling rather anxious about it. He kept biting his nails out of nervousness, and fear of making a fool out of himself during the game. His situation was certainly not being helped by the fact that he could only talk with one of his two best friends. Well, technically he could talk to Hermione, but why would he want to? 

She certainly didn’t want to talk to him about her and Vicky’s snogging sessions. He just couldn’t believe her. After all those rows where she told him Krum was just a friend, and now he had to find out from his sister that not only was he the only one from his two best friends to have never kissed anyone, but that if he ever got the unlikely chance to kiss Hermione she’ll probably be comparing him the entire time to stupid bloody Krum.

He needed a distraction, so he went to Hagrid. He wasn’t expecting an eye opening conversation or advice concerning his situation with Hermione from him, but a good chat with him could maybe cheer him up. As he headed down to Hagrid’s hut he saw him standing outside feeding his Blast–Ended Skrewts. 

“Hey Hagrid,” said Ron in what he hoped sounded like a cheerful tone.

“Hiya’ Ron” said Hagrid in his usual joyus self. “Ow’ are ya’? Excited for tomorrow’s match?”

‘Well,’ Ron thought. ‘That lasted all but two seconds trying to avoid what’s been making you feel like throwing up all day.’

“Not particularly, no,” he said, trying to mask how truly anxious he felt.

“O’ nonsense,” said Hagrid, waving his hand as if trying to wave away his nervousness. “You’ll do great ‘am sure of it”

Trying to steer away from the Quidditch match Ron started asking about how his day was going, how his classes were shaping up for the new third years and anything else that came to mind that would for certain avoid the topic of Quidditch or Hermione. 

He wasn’t so lucky as the conversation ended up drifting to brooms which made Hagrid ask how his Cleansweep Eleven was working, which ended up with Hagrid saying how he would make the Gryffindor Quidditch Team proud even on a splintered Shooting Star. Ron felt his face burn red at his praise.

“If you say so,” said Ron while shrugging his shoulders and looking down at his feet.

Seeing how upset Ron looked, Hagrid went inside his hut and came back out holding a vial with a red shimmering liquid inside it. 

“Tell ya’ what?” said Hagrid handing Ron the vial. “Ya’ drink tha’ before ya’ go ta sleep? Ya’ll wake up with enough courage to lift a hippogriff.” Hagrid said, a smile plastered on his face.

Ron took the vial and held it in his hand. A smile formed on his face before fading away to be replaced with one of concern. 

“Thanks Hagrid, but… isn’t this cheating?” Ron asked him, while putting the vial in front of him.

“It’d be cheatin’ if it made ya’ grow an extra pair of arms to catch those Quaffles, but it’ll only calm yer’ nerves.” 

Ron thanked Hagrid, took the vial and put it in his pocket before heading back inside the castle. Unfortunately, he stumbled upon the only person he didn’t want to deal with.

“Ron!” yelled Hermione walking towards him.

He pretended not to hear her calling and headed straight to Gryffindor Tower, for some much needed sleep. He started walking faster, to which Hermione responded by quickening her step.

“Ron, stop for a second!” Hermione shouted once more. Ron was in front of the Fat Lady’s portrait when Hermione caught up with him. “RON!” she bellowed. “It’s been days since we’ve last spoken! May I know what unforgivable thing I did to deserve this kind of treatment from you!” Ron didn’t pay attention to any of what Hermione said, he simply said the password and walked into the Common Room. 

Hermione’s mouth hung open in indignation and before she could say anything regarding Ron’s rude behavior he had already gone up to his dorm room, leaving Hermione to stomp her feet in frustration. 

Ron put on his pajamas and stood beside his bed. He looked at the vial with the red liquid inside and contemplated whether he should drink it or not. After debating for 2 seconds he drank all of the potion. He felt as the red fluid went down his throat and a warming sensation came across his body from his head to his toes. It felt energizing and hot, like he’d just been given a star for dinner. Even if this thing didn’t work he’d definitely have to ask more from Hagrid. After a few seconds with his head on his pillow Ron drifted off to sleep.

He opened his eyes to see The Burrow at dusk. He was drawn to it like a moth to a fire. He entered to see that only a few lights were lighting up his home. He walked up the stairs and saw the lights of the bathroom on. He heard the shower running as the door was slightly ajar and for some reason something inside himself decided to take a peek at who was showering when no one else was supposed to be at his home. 

He was taken back by the sight before him, Hermione was showering. Her naked self stood before him, her curvaceous body was dripping with water under the shower head, her mane of wet curls covered her back and almost reached her arse. Her breasts, while not the biggest, were still a handful. She opened her eyes to look at him, his eyes widened and his mouth hung open, while his ears and cheeks went red from the embarrassment of getting caught.

“I–I’m so sorry Hermione!” he rushed to say. “I–I just… I saw the door open and… I–” Ron stopped talking as Hermione turned off the shower and started walking towards him. Her hips were swaying hypnotically. Her tanned skin looked like the most delectable thing he’s ever wanted to taste. She was smirking in a way that made his mind go numb. 

“Hermione?” Ron asked, looking at those gorgeous brown eyes that could hardly contain his urge to look at her tits.

“What would you like to do, Ron?” she said completely unfazed by the fact that she was standing in front of Ron naked as the day she was born.

“Wh–what?!” Ron spluttered.

“Better question,” she said now, only inches apart from each other. “What would you like to do to me Ron?” and as she said this she took Ron’s hand and slowly directed it to her breast. 

Ron gasped as his hand came in contact with Hermione’s right breast. He could no longer control his desire as he started groping her tit, he felt her nipple harden beneath his palm and she could hear sweet moans coming from her mouth. After a while his touches might’ve not been enough as she took his hand and slowly, but surely she directed his hand to her crotch.

He could feel Hermione’s most intimate part, her folds were slick, and he thought he might’ve passed out from what was happening to him, he must’ve frozen in place, since she started rubbing herself with his hand. After a while he started moving on his own trying to bring her to completion. Her moans were intoxicating and he didn’t know if he could get any harder. Her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ and her eyes were shut in pleasure as she started calling out for his name.

“Ron” she moaned

“Ron!” but her voice suddenly became deeper.

“RON!” Ron woke up to see Harry near his bed, standing over him with his pajamas on. “Good. You’re awake, time to get up” Harry said as he threw Ron his Quidditch uniform. He hesitantly got up from his bed and went to the bathroom to get ready. As Ron finished his shower, he went to put a towel around his waist only to find his penis rock hard. It was red, swollen and angry looking even. 

“Better take care of it.” Ron thought. He quickly locked the door to the bathroom, to relieve himself, when the doorknob started twitching. He put the towel around his waist making sure that his stiffy didn’t stick out too much. He wasn’t the smallest man on the planet and he was also quite tall, so his size wasn’t a big surprise. 

“Oi, Ron! You finished or what?” Asked Harry.

Ron debated between letting Harry get ready for the match or having a quick wank. He eventually let Harry albeit reluctantly, leaving himself with his problem throughout the rest of the morning.

When Ron and Harry arrived at the Gryffindor table Ron was received with a cold Hermione, he knew it was his own fault yet that wasn’t what he first noticed. Her cute button nose was screaming at him to kiss it, her eyes were boring into his, her neck looking so cold and Ron knew just how to warm it up.

His heart was beating inside his chest, and his member, which hadn’t gone down, was throbbing. Blimey! What was wrong with him? Just yesterday he had completely ignored her, because of bloody Krum. He could show her a real snog, not that pompous Bulgarian git. A sudden feeling of competitiveness made Ron look at Hermione who was looking back at him strangely, had his mind not been as fogged as it was he might’ve realized it she looked worried.

“Is there something wrong with me this week?” Hermione asked, her tone remaining icy yet her face telling a different tale.

Ron shook his head. “No,” he said with what might’ve been a grunt. “You just look pretty today.” He said it like he was telling her what he was having for dinner. Hermione for her part had gone pink, the retort that she was surely ready to reply with was gone. Harry was focusing on his own breakfast.

“It’s a bit hot today isn’t it?” said Hermione, probably trying to change the subject. Ron noticed as she fanned herself the sweat running down her neck, and he felt the sudden urge to lick it. His cock once again throbbed inside his pants and Ron thought that it might actually explode. His head was pounding, it felt like someone was hammering a nail into his skull.

His breathing was becoming ragged and he was sweating profusely, Harry and Hermione were looking at Ron with worry, they understandably thought that he was nervous. However Ron’s current condition had nothing to do with the game. He wasn’t even that nervous about it for some reason, maybe Hagrid’s tonic had truly worked, he hoped so he didn’t need to be on his nerves while playing with a raging hard on. He didn’t even notice Lavender Brown trying to cheer him up.

“There you go, Ron. Drink up” said Harry sliding what looked like pumpkin juice Ron’s way. 

Ron absentmindedly went to pick up his cup when Hermione’s voice shook him out of his trance.

“Don’t drink that, Ron!” Ron put the cup down and shot her with a questioning look. She looked at Harry like she couldn’t believe her own eyes. “You put something in Ron’s drink” Harry denied it which made Hermione start arguing with him. He didn’t really mind the fact that Harry most probably did put something in his drink, however the tonic that Hagrid had given him had certainly done wonders for his nerves. Hermione and Harry’s argument was only making his headache worse. 

“It wouldn’t be fair so don’t even think about dri–” Hermione turned to look at Ron just to see his seat empty, his drink untouched. Harry and Hermione saw the back of Ron walking out of the Great Hall. They looked at each other and while Hermione had something reminiscent of a triumphant look she was still worried about Ron, he for his part could not get rid of his hard on no matter how hard he tried, every-time he tried closing his eyes and think about something relatively disgusting his train of thought would circle back to Hermione, her neck, her breasts, her arse. He finally gave up and decided to instead focus on the game. At least he could get a good wank after everything was done.

Harry and Hermione could not find Ron anywhere and soon enough the game started, Hermione wished Harry good luck and went to the locker rooms to find Ron looking extremely sweaty and fidgety.

“Mate,” said Harry. “Are you sure you’re alright? You don’t have to play if you’re not feeling well.”

Ron looked at Harry, for a second he looked crazy like when he first met Sirius and his eyes were full of insanity, before Ron composed himself and stood up. “I’m fine,” he said. “I just need to finish this stupid bloody match and go to bed.”

Harry nodded and soon enough the game had started.

Harry was expecting Ron to miss a bunch of the shots thrown at him, however, to Harry’s surprise, and most of the Gryffindors, Ron was playing perfectly. He handled his broom like a pro, his eyes seemed to know where each Quaffle was going, and he wasn’t reacting to any of Slytherin’s taunts or even the ‘Weasley is our King’ song. He seemed completely focused on the game. Things were going great

‘Things are not going great’ thought Ron, when the game finished. It had been spectacular, but the game had done nothing to calm his erection, he briefly wondered if this was his life from now on, a raging hard–on wherever he went, being called a pervert by anyone who’d see it.

His miserable thinking was quickly broken by Hermione’s voice.

“I knew it! I knew it!” said Hermione excitedly running towards Ron and launching herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I knew you didn’t need that Felix Felicis. See what I told you Harry?”

“Yes, you were right. What a surprise Hermione.” He said sarcastically. Hermione rolled her eyes, and her gaze turned to Ron’s face which had gone red as a tomato, he was sweating profusely and was looking at her like she was a meal, his eyes told all of his hunger. His look made her feel uneasily good, it didn’t last as Ron wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

“Thank you.” Ron whispered right by her ear, his hot breath sent shivers down her spine. She would’ve sworn he took a sniff of her hair, but he was probably just exhausted.

Ron then quickly detached himself and stood over by Harry’s side leaving him in the middle of whatever had just happened. Ron looked if anything quite ashamed of himself. And he was, he didn’t thank her for believing in him, or for praising him or hugging him. No, Ron thanked her because the minimal physical contact had made wonders for his current predicament. 

Hermione’s hug had left him with some relief, but as soon as he felt that relief an urge waved throughout his body. An urge to have her. Have her in every position, in every way, on every corner of his bed. He hadn’t wrapped her hands around her waist because he tried returning her hug, he had done it out of self control, he had wanted to put his hands on her arse and squeeze it to show her how he could handle more than a Quaffle.

The walk back towards the Common Room was filled with congratulations towards Harry and Ron (More to Ron than to Harry, but Harry was fine with that). When they finally reached the Common Room, Ron went and excused himself from the party with the excuse of wanting to go and shower then go to sleep as he wasn’t feeling quite well. Harry and Hermione asked him if he needed to go to Madame Pomfrey, but he told them a good nap was all he wanted.

‘That and Hermione’s hot mouth on my–’ Ron quickly interrupted his own train of thought. And walked towards his dormitory. And then Lavender Brown went and got in his way.

“You were brilliant, Ron,” said Lavender in an exaggerated girly tone. 

“Thanks, Lavender.” he said, trying to dismiss her. “It was nothing.” Ron went to try and go around her, but she continued to block his way.

“I don’t think it was nothing,” she said in what may have been a flirty tone, but Ron dismissed it as part of his headache. She put her hand on his chest and Hermione, who had been observing all of this play out, couldn’t help the dread that she felt. This wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be happening. She had invited Ron to Slughorn’s Christmas Party, Hermione thought something could come out of it, but was she really going to lose him, because Lavender Brown was flashing her eyelashes at Ron?

Hermione saw as Lavender closed her eyes and her lips went towards Ron’s, she couldn’t move, she could just watch the boy she was in love with being dragged away by her own roommate. She wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn’t, and she was glad she didn’t as Ron put his hands on her shoulders and told her something that she couldn’t quite hear. Lavender’s eyes flashed towards Hermione, before going back to Ron, an expression of anger on her face was all it took for Hermione to realize that Ron had just rejected Lavender.

She saw as Lavender’s open palm went against Ron’s face and the sound resonated throughout the Common Room, everyone stopped what they were doing and saw Lavender’s eyes fill with tears as she ran to her dormitory, Ron was looking decidedly at the ground, nobody said anything as he walked upstairs towards his own dormitory. Hermione, however, saw a flash of pain cross his face as he went to climb the stairs.

Ron closed the door behind him and quickly went to the bathroom, closing the door and putting a locking charm on the door he splashed water on his face. As the scene replayed again and again inside his head. Lavender had tried kissing him, but everything about it would’ve been wrong, her lips wouldn’t have been small enough, her hair wavy instead of bushy, herself not Hermione enough.

He got out of the bathroom and tried calming himself, his headache had only grown worse and he felt as if someone was launching bludgers directly at his head. He went to try and unbuckle his belt and lower his pants when he heard the door open. By its entrance was Hermione looking at him with those gorgeous brown eyes that he so loved.

“Ron?” she said. “Is something wrong?”

“No, Hermione.” As soon as the words came out of his mouth she looked in a disbelieving way towards Ron. “Seriously everything’s fi–”

“Everything’s not fine.” Hermione interrupted him as she walked towards him. She put her small soft hand on his forehead, and Ron was internally screaming for someone to kill him. She was too close, too small, too easy to just… Ron wouldn’t end that sentence, instead he focused on what she was saying. “You’re burning up and sweating and that was even before the game. What’s going on, Ron?”

“I don’t know I–” Words failed him. “I felt fine until this morning I just…”

“Was it something you ate perhaps?”

“No, I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday in the morning… But…” 

“But what, Ron?”

“Hagrid gave me a tonic.” Hermione’s eyes immediately widened as realization hit her.

“Ron! How could you do such a thing?!”

“I wasn’t cheating, he told me it was just for nerves.” Ron tore himself away from Hermione and went to his bedside table. He took the empty vial and shoved it in her hands. “See?”

Hermione’s eyes widened as she saw the small drops that Ron hadn’t drinked. “Ron,” she said in a scared tone Ron could recognize anywhere. “Please tell me you didn’t drink this.” 

“I already told you I did.”

“Ron, this isn’t a normal tonic. This is Calore Venereo,” she said worriedly.

“Why’d you say it like that, Hermione?” He asked, equally worried now.

“Calore Venereo is a tonic used on animals to, well… um… help them.” she said the last bit quietly and Ron noticed her face blushing.

“Help them how, Hermione?”

“You know… Help them… “ Hermione looked at Ron’s pleading face and took a deep breath. “Breed,” to say Ron looked surprised would be an understatement, his jaw hung open and his eyes went wide as saucers.

“WHAT?!” he almost yelled.

“When an animal or magical beast is in need of procreation, but they won’t… mate with other members of their species, it’s used as a way to help them… Want to procreate.”

Ron couldn’t speak, his mouth was dry as a dessert he desperately wanted some way of quenching his thirst. “Why would Hagrid give me something like that?”

“It’s supposed to be inoffensive in creatures like centaurs, mermaids or… giants. I think Hagrid was genuinely trying to help you, he just didn’t know how this might affect you.”

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“Well…” said Hermione, her voice worried and quivering. “The effects are normally overheating, sweating, as well as headaches until the body ceases if it… doesn’tfindaproperbreedingmate.”

Hermione said the last part so fast Ron almost didn’t understand it. Almost. He was going to die, just because he had been too nervous for a Quidditch Match.

“The effects can only be gone once you… well you heard what animals need to do didn’t you?”

Ron’s eyes would be popping out of his head by the time this conversation was over. He was supposed to have sex or else he would be stuck with an eternal boner for the rest of his life. On top of all that Hermione was the one to tell him all of this.

“How the bloody hell am I supposed to do that?!” Ron asked heatedly. Hermione for her part was blushing to the roots of her hair.

“W–well… Y–you know… if you really needed help…” said Hermione, her voice quiet. “I could…” Ron didn’t need her to finish, he could already tell the implication of what she was offering.

“No, Hermione!” he practically bellowed. And on instinct he silenced the door to his dorm room. “No! I can’t let you– No bloody way!” He put his hands on the table, frustrated and sweating even more.

“Honestly, Ron,” said Hermione, she sounded a bit hurt for some reason. “It’s nothing, if you don’t you’ll really di–”

“I’d rather die then,” he replied, almost growling. He put his fingers on his temple, his headache nearly killing him. And the urge from before suddenly became impossible to ignore. She was right there, just a few steps, a kiss. She was already offering why wasn’t he taking her already? 

“Hermione… Leave…” He was pleading with her, as something like his instinct was threatening to control his every being.

“Ron, stop being so stubborn it’s not a big deal!” She screamed at him. “I want to do this for you if I don’t–” And her voice began to wane. The voice inside his head, which Ron recognized as his libido was now screaming at him. Ron tried to fight it, but he couldn’t and then he heard Hermione once more.

“Fine,” she said, her voice sounded like she was crying. “If you’d like I can call Lavender for you, see if I care!”

She began to turn, walking to the door when just as she was about to turn the door knob Ron appeared from behind her. Moving slowly he locked the door, taking her shoulder and mashing his lips to hers.

Somehow in that moment even when he had no experience regarding kissing her he knew he was doing a good job. His tongue swirled around her mouth, and his lips sucked on her tongue.

Hermione had been surprised by Ron’s sudden advance, and she quickly recovered, kissing him back with equal passion. It was by far too good, somehow Ron knew every inch from her mouth as if he owned it. His hands gripped her shoulders before they moved agonizingly slowly downwards ending on her bum which he gripped with a possessive grip. 

It was then that Ron woke up, he ripped himself from Hermione who had a dazed expression on her face.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed. “I’m so sorry Hermione. Fuck, you need to leave.”

That seemed to get her out of her daze. 

“What?!” She exclaimed. 

“I– I shouldn’t have kissed you. Please, leave.”

Hermione felt as if she would cry again, and her face went red as she felt mortified. She’d read the effects of the potion affected males far more than it did females, making them more susceptible to any mate.

“Was it not good enough for you, Ron?” She accused, tears running down her cheeks. “Perhaps, I should get Lavender seeing as you don’t want me.”

“Are you bloody kidding me?” He retorted back. He walked towards her, closing in on her, trapping her between his strong arms and the door. “I want you too bloody much. Lavender wouldn’t even compare to you, Hermione. Fuck, the moment you told me that I needed to have sex with someone all I could think about was you. I always think about that with you. It’s just…” 

“What?” she asked when he didn’t carry on.

“You deserve more,” he muttered. Hermione stayed silent for a moment as Ron looked down at his feet before she pulled his chin so that he would be looking at her.

“No, I don’t,” she responded. “I deserve you. I want you.”

“Fuck, Hermione.”

His breath hit her face so closely she didn’t know if she was breathing properly. A moment later she had pulled his head towards hers, Ron seemed to protest for about two second before he succumbed to Hermione. He grabbed her everywhere touching too much and too little at the same time, his large hands fitted against her breasts, she had always considered them small, but she realized that in Ron’s hands they were perfect. 

Ron ripped the buttons of her cardigan as his hands began touching the skin of her waist. His mouth began traveling down her chin, reaching her neck where he licked the sweat off it like a starving man that yearned for a drink.

Picking her up and taking her to his bed, he shut the curtains surrounding them letting her all to himself under the moonlight. He undressed her with far more delicacy than he had before. His body had lost the war, but his mind could still fight to give her what she deserved. She was naked now, her face red as she stared up at him. His mouth descended onto her breasts where he sucked on them with adoration, when his mouth worked on one, his hand worked on the other and vice versa.

When he was finished with her he could hear her pleading for him to begin, but he wasn’t done. His kisses began to lower until he hit her belly button where he dipped his tongue inside for a moment hearing her sighs and moans like they were the most brilliant piece of music.

Before he knew it he began to use his mouth on her most intimate parts, tasting the nectar that seemed to spew endlessly from her, and for some reason with his instinct also came his competitiveness.

“Bet you, Vicky never kissed you like this,” this prompted Hermione to lift her head from Ron’s pillow. She had been enjoying what he was doing before he mentioned Viktor.

“Ron, what does –Oh Merlin– Viktor have to do with– Ahhhh!” Her own sentence was silenced by Ron’s mouth as she began to earnestly moan.

“Ginny told me that dear old Vicky and you snogged,” he said as he continued to delve into her. “It should’ve been me,” he mumbled, but she understood him completely. “I wanted that to be me, I love you, Hermione. I care about you,” he talked almost as if he were drunk, unable to really think about the words he was saying. His tone of voice was somewhat hurt as he said this. “So tell me, Hermione. Did dear old Vicky do this to you? Did he care more about you than me?” He didn’t let her answer as he continued to lick her until finally he was rewarded with a long scream and a moan from her. 

Even when he had practically left her seeing stars, Hermione noticed that Ron was panting quite a lot. She grabbed his head snogging him as she felt his cloth covered bulge against her naked thigh.

“He kissed me,” she said once they separated. “A peck just like this,” and she kissed him on the corner of the mouth. “We did nothing more. Everything I’ve done with you so far has been worth ten times that kiss, Ron. So please… Stop talking about Vicky and shag me.”

That’s when his mind decided to absolutely abandon him, other than letting him be able to witness and experience what was to come next, all rationality escaped him. He took his clothes off, nearly tearing his Quidditch uniform in two as he did. Now he was as naked as her, his manhood erect, throbbing and an angry red that intimidated Hermione. His fingers snapping and summoning his wand wordlessly. He pointed his wand right at Hermione’s stomach and it glowed a soft pink. He had casted the Contraception Charm.

“That was amazing, Ron,” she exclaimed as she watched him perform both wordless and wandless magic. “You just did wandless… and wordless…” her words became quieter as she watched the expression on Ron’s face. He looked as in pain as well as aroused as any human could possibly ever be.

He grabbed himself, holding onto Hermione with a subconscious care that she didn’t know he was capable of showing. He was surprising her more and more by the second. He directed his erection right to her opening and as he slowly made his way in he tore through her virginity with a silent affection, until he was fully in and filling all of her.

Hermione had never felt so full in her life. Ron had bent his head, hiding his face from her in her neck sniffing her scent and tasting her sweat as she got comfortable enough with him. She tapped his back and he knew she was ready, slowly he began to move his hips, sawing in and out of her the pleasure unlike anything else. 

Their minds had become absolute putty. Ron only being able to say “I love you”s over and over again as Hermione did the same whispering sweet nothings to Hermione’s ear. It took only a few more thrusts and then he was finishing inside her. The disturbingly painful headache going away the instant he had done so.

Now with his mind clear, he lifted his head and looked at Hermione. She looked scared and somehow his body acted on its own again and this time he was happy it did. As his head lowered down to hers and their lips meshed in a combination of pink and pink. Chocolate and butterbeer, Quidditch and parchment paper, Ron and Hermione.

[crossbowking]

More Than Anything (Part 1)

Summary: (Set mid-season 6) The reader's feelings towards the archer evolve, but a supply run that goes south threatens to destroy it all.

Request: "I'd love to see something w protective Daryl and some angst, maybe set at the start of their time in Alexandria w an established relationship?" - @pulplorrd

A/N: Thank you all for the love regarding "Honey & Whiskey" - I loved writing that story, but I'm also super happy to finally be able to move onto something else! I very rarely write established Daryl x Reader stories, so this one was super fun to do!

This is part 1/2.

Happy reading!

xx Jess

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Sunlight trickled in through the open window, a gentle breeze rousing you from an otherwise undisturbed sleep.

Cracking an eye open, you squinted against the sun rays streaming over your features as a soft sigh escaped past your lips. Burying your face into your pillow, you extended an arm out across the mattress, your brow furrowing when you felt an empty space beside you. Pushing up onto your elbow, you rubbed your eye with the heel of your palm before glancing over at the vacant spot.

“D?” you murmured softly, voice still thick with sleep. You cleared your throat, twisting onto your side as you surveyed the rest of the bedroom. “Daryl?” you called out once more, feeling a familiar pinprick of worry when no response followed.

You flipped onto your back with a huff, taking a moment to stretch out your tired muscles before untangling yourself from the sheets and climbing out of bed. Fighting back a yawn, you padded across the floor and out into the hallway, listening for movement. When you heard a sudden clatter, followed by a rasped cuss, the corner of your mouth quirked up.

You made your way towards the noise, feeling some of the tightness in your chest fade with each step you drew near.

The end of the hallway led to a small, yet quaint, kitchen. When you reached the entryway, you faltered, observing the scene before you — Daryl was crouched down, one hand wielding a frying pan, the other scooping up a small mound of partially cooked eggs from off the floor and tossing them back into the skillet.

You stifled back the laugh building up inside you. “Hi,” you remarked, making your arrival known.

The archer’s gaze snapped up to meet yours, a flash of what looked like embarrassment flitting over his features before he ducked his head back down, effectively concealing his face with his hair. “Mornin’,” he rumbled, quickly wiping up the rest of the egg residue with the sleeve of his shirt.

A small smile pulled at your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the doorway. “Whatcha doin’?” you singsonged playfully, eyebrows raised.

Daryl’s brow furrowed as he stood, staring down defeatedly at the frying pan in his grip. “Cookin’,” he finally sighed, shrugging a shoulder up.

“I see that,” you laughed softly, crossing the length of the kitchen as the archer placed the skillet back onto the stovetop. “Smells good,” you remarked, coming to stand at his side.

“Dropped the —” Daryl spat out another curse as he attempted to scrape the burnt egg bits off the bottom of the pan. “— the damn — the damn thing,” he growled exasperatedly, waving at the pan with the spatula he held.

“It’s okay,” you reassured. “No one expects you to be Gordon Ramsey,” you teased, thoroughly amused.

But the reference seemed to go right over Daryl’s head as he turned to give you a confused look.

Your brow furrowed. “You know…Gordon Ramsey,” you reiterated pointedly.

“Huh?” the archer grunted, clearly at a loss.

“Oh, come on, you don’t — you’ve never heard of Gordon Ramsey?” you asked incredulously. “You know, Gordon Ramsey! The mean British chef!”

Daryl scrunched his nose up before shaking his head. “Ain’t never heard a’ that,” he rumbled, focusing back on the frying pan.

“Wow,” you murmured in disbelief. “That is so…so devastating,” you sighed, mockingly dramatic.

The archer snorted a laugh, the sound eliciting a rush of warmth through you. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, gently nudging you with his elbow.

You grinned cheekily, leaning over and resting your head against the curve of Daryl’s shoulder. He froze for a moment, old habits reappearing briefly before he relaxed beneath you and continued stirring the eggs.

An overwhelming sense of calm rushed over you, a feeling only the archer ever seemed to evoke. You closed your eyes, breathing in the comfort he so effortlessly exuded — and it wasn’t in anything he said or anything he did, it was just purely and wholeheartedly who he was. He was grounded, he was stable, he was here.

You’d missed this — you’d missed him.

The past month hadn’t been the easiest — Alexandria was still recovering from the destruction the dead had caused — but things were beginning to look up. The hundreds of slain walkers had finally been removed from within the community, Carl was recovering from his gunshot wound, and the wall that’d been destroyed was almost entirely rebuilt. There was a sense of hope, of purpose, in the air — your people had stared death in the face and prevailed.

But supplies were beginning to wear thin.

Most were hesitant to venture outside the walls, to leave the sanctuary that was Alexandria, and honestly, you didn’t blame them for that — especially after the attack brought on by the Wolves. You’d seen what other horrors existed outside those walls — hell, you’d lived through it. There was a big, bad, scary world just behind the scraps of steel and metal welded together surrounding the community — there was the dead, the undead, and the living.

The latter was most terrifying.

Still, there were mouths to feed, injuries to tend to, and somebody would have to leave eventually. It wasn’t much of a surprise when Daryl volunteered himself — that was just the kind of man he was. Aaron had decided to join him, determined to continue his search for any other lost souls seeking asylum.

But the supply run had taken longer than expected.

They’d only planned to be gone for three days — but after the fourth, fifth, sixth day that rolled by without any sign of return, you were nearly beside yourself with worry. It wasn’t that you thought they couldn’t handle themselves out there, you just wanted them home — you wanted him home. The tightness in your chest expanded with each day that passed, unease gnawing at your insides, fear settling like an anchor in the pit of your stomach.

Then just yesterday — day seven — right before sunset, Daryl and Aaron had come marching through the front gate. Apparently, their intended route had been cut off by a horde, which led to some rerouting, which resulted in an empty gas tank, which forced them to abandon their car, which meant walking the near-fifty miles back home.

“I was so worried,” you suddenly murmured, drawing yourself back to the present as you lifted your head off Daryl’s shoulder and glanced up at him.

The archer’s eyes flashed towards you for just a brief second before focusing downward, turning off the stovetop, and pulling the frying pan off the heat. “I came back,” he finally rasped after a long pause.

“Yeah,” you sounded, nodding your head absently, his words not making you feel all that better.

Daryl caught your gaze once more before he reached out and placed his hand against the side of your neck, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “C’mon, let’s eat,” he rumbled, pulling away a moment later.

You made a soft noise in protest, savoring the rare show of affection and earning an amused eye roll from the archer as he turned away — though you noticed the tips of his ears redden in the slightest.

When you’d first arrived at Alexandria, Deanna had provided two houses to be split amongst your entire group. As time went on and the safe haven had proven to be just that, slowly but surely, everyone began branching out and finding their own homes to settle into. Part of you had reservations about moving into one of the empty brownstone apartments, just you and Daryl, but things had been going well between you — really well, actually.

You settled atop one of the stools lining the small island in the middle of the kitchen, resting your elbows against the smooth marble countertop as you watched Daryl move about. He grabbed a plate from the cupboard, along with a fork from the utensil drawer before swinging around and sliding the items towards you. It was almost eerie how natural things felt in that moment — like a glimpse of what life might’ve looked like had the world not ended and the dead had stayed dead.

The archer grabbed the frying pan, turning towards you once more before using the spatula to dish out a hearty helping of eggs onto your plate. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the look of intense concentration masking his features — as though diffusing a bomb and not simply serving breakfast.

Daryl glanced up at you from beneath his hair, doing a quick double-take. “What?” he grunted defensively, appearing increasingly self-conscious all of the sudden.

“Nothing,” you quickly shook your head, letting out a soft laugh and picking up the utensil. “Thank you,” you grinned, gathering up a forkful of eggs.

“Mhm,” he grumbled in response, drumming his fingers against the counter as he carefully watched for your reaction, his nervousness evident — and incredibly endearing.

You took a big bite, humming a noise of satisfaction soon after. “Mmm,” you sounded around the mouthful of food before swallowing. “Chef Dixon,” you remarked cheekily.

Daryl scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah right,” he rasped sarcastically, though you watched him visibly relax. He remained standing opposite of you, opting out from using a plate and eating the remaining eggs straight from the frying pan instead, scooping up a handful with his fingertips and shoveling them into his mouth.

A comfortable silence settled over the kitchen as the pair of you continued eating, sneaking glances at one another while the other wasn’t looking. You couldn’t help yourself — he was just so damn captivating. Even standing before you, devouring a panful of eggs with his bare hands like some kind of wild animal, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach flip-flop.

You’d never felt this way about anyone in your entire life — even before the end. But now…well, now you’d live this terrifying life a thousand times over if it meant finding him.

The sudden realization of what exactly you were feeling hit you hard, catching you off guard and causing you to choke on the mouthful of eggs you were chewing. Daryl’s head snapped up as you abruptly coughed, covering your mouth as your eyes began to water.

The archer was at your side a moment later. “Hey, ya alright?” he rumbled, gently patting his hand against your back.

You quickly nodded, attempting to wave him off as your cheeks tinged with embarrassment. “Yeah — yeah, no, I’m —” you coughed once more, the eggs finally dislodging from your throat. “I’m — I’m good,” you managed weakly, wiping at your eyes. “Jesus,” you wheezed as a sheepish laugh slipped past your lips, your coughs finally dying down.

“Ya sure?” Daryl pressed as he pulled his hand away from your back and rested it on top of your shoulder instead.

“No, no, yeah, no, I’m fine,” you quickly brushed him off. “Just went down the wrong pipe,” you lied, hoping your excuse sounded convincing enough as the feeling of vulnerability threatened to consume you.

If the archer was suspicious, he kept his expression neutral. He nodded once before softly squeezing your shoulder and pulling away — though he lingered nearby instead of moving back to where he’d originally stood.

“Anyways,” you pushed forward, clearing your throat, desperately wanting to ignore the revelation you’d had. “We, uh — we almost finished rebuilding the wall while you guys were gone. Rick’s got a crew working on dismantling the old one, too.”

Daryl watched your expression for a second longer than necessary, like he knew something was up but wasn’t exactly sure what. But after a moment, he relented. “Saw it on the way in las’ night,” he murmured, leaning down and resting his forearms against the edge of the counter. “Looks pretty solid.”

You nodded, huffing a breath. “Abraham’s leading the team — I’m pretty sure you couldn’t drive a tank through that wall.”

The archer scoffed. “Damn right,” he rasped before lowering his gaze, wringing his hands together atop the counter.

You studied his demeanor, feeling a pinprick of unease. “What is it?”

Daryl glanced up, flicking his hair away from his eyes with a quick jerk of the head. “M’, uh — m’ headin’ out again today,” he finally confessed, standing up straight.

You tried to keep your expression indifferent despite your stomach dropping. “Oh,” you voiced dishearteningly. “But — but you just got back,” you pointed out softly, hoping you didn’t sound as disappointed as you felt.

“I know,” he said, staring down at the counter, avoiding your gaze. “Jus’ a day trip, is all — Tara heard ‘bout a motel strip, maybe fifteen miles from here. Shouldn’t take more than a couple a’ hours. We’ll be in an’ out.”

You nodded slowly, pushing around the leftover eggs on your plate with your fork. “Alright,” you straightened up on your stool. “Well, I’ll come —”

Daryl started shaking his head before you could even finish your sentence, his eyes meeting yours. “Y/N —”

“Come on, Daryl,” you interjected, already figuring his response, swiveling in your seat to face him head-on. “I’m losing my mind here, okay? I’ve gotta get back out there and — and actually do something for this place.”

“Ya do enough already,” he shot back vehemently.

You fought back the urge to roll your eyes as you slid off the stool. “And besides, we’ll cover more ground faster if there’s three of us versus two,” you continued brusquely, gathering all the stray dishes on the counter.

“That ain’t the damn point,” Daryl growled, following you towards the kitchen sink.

“Yeah, and it's also not your decision," you finally snapped.

When the archer didn’t respond, stiffening beside you instead, a wave of guilt washed over you.

Exhaling a heavy breath, you gently set the dishes down in the sink before turning to face him. “Look, I get it,” you murmured softly. “I get it, D. But I can’t just hide out here for the rest of my life,” you explained. “Especially when you’re the one risking yours.”

Some of the fire in Daryl’s gaze diminished, replaced with a heaviness that wasn’t there before as his shoulders drooped.

You felt something tug at your heart as you stepped forward, reaching towards him and brushing away the hair that fell over his face. “I just got you back,” you whispered. “And I’m not ready to let go of that yet.”

When another long moment passed without a response, you were almost certain Daryl was going to object once more — but then, despite the tension in his features, his eyes softened.

“Alright,” he finally rumbled, the word seemingly caught in his throat — as though it physically pained him to say it.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Alright,” you reiterated with a resolute nod.

Daryl sighed, shaking his head as he nudged you forward. “Well, go on an’ get some shit together before I change my mind,” he grunted.

You quickly straightened, imitating a soldier’s stance. “Yes, Chef,” you saluted the archer, breaking the tension.

Daryl narrowed his eyes, shooting you an unamused look. “Shut it,” he rasped — though you noticed his lips twitch up a moment later as he turned on the kitchen sink, picking up one of the dirty dishes.

You stood up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss against the archer’s cheek, the skin where your lips touched tinging pink soon after. “Just give me two minutes,” you said, squeezing his arm as you brushed by him.

Daryl cleared his throat gruffly, caught off guard by the gesture. “M’ countin’!” he called after you.

“Yeah, yeah!” you shouted back, allowing the warmth that filled your chest to carry you the rest of the way down the hall.

Within the hour, you were on the road.

A cool rush of air swept through the passenger side window as you tilted your head back against the headrest and closed your eyes, basking in the sun's gentle rays. The wind danced amongst strands of your tousled hair before settling them back down against your features. Tucking away the freed wisps behind your ears, you opened your eyes, studying the scenery flashing by.

Rows and rows and towering trees lined either side of the long and winding road you found yourself on, a seemingly endless forest just behind it. The car hummed beneath you, passing by long-since abandoned vehicles and scattered debris, continuing to barrel down an otherwise empty highway.

It was strange — there was something somewhat comforting, something sort of nostalgic about being back on the road. Like a glimpse into another lifetime.

“— and I swear, this dude was like, six feet tall. He was one of those, you know, typical chauvinistic pricks, thinking every woman he meets at a bar wants to have sex with him,” Tara’s voice rang from the backseat, drawing you from your reverie. “But you should’ve seen the look on his face when I knocked him on his ass — priceless,” she jeered, an air of pride in her tone.

You shifted in the passenger seat, the corner of your mouth quirking up as you looked back at her. “So, is that when you realized you wanted to join the police academy?” you asked curiously.

“No,” Tara shook her head, a smirk toying at her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back. “That’s when I realized I like women.”

A laugh bubbled out of you at her response, Tara’s smile simply widening as she shrugged unabashedly, picking up the map splayed out across her lap. As your laughter died down, you started turning to face forward — though you’d only made it halfway when Daryl caught your eye.

The archer sat in the driver’s seat, one hand resting casually on top of the steering wheel, the other propped up against the door. His window was rolled down, the breeze from outside stirring the hair that hung just above his eyes. But what grabbed your attention were his eyes, glinting ocean blue as he glanced over at you, the corner of his mouth faintly lifting.

God, the way he looked at you…

You fought back a smile as you faced forward, wondering what you could’ve possibly done in your life to deserve to be looked at like that. The feeling you’d shoved away earlier at breakfast came rushing back, setting your senses ablaze as you worked on controlling your thrumming pulse.

You loved him.

A heaviness grew in the pit of your stomach as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Fuck.

“Here’s the turn,” Tara’s voice interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

The motel came into view, set back behind a mass of trees, partially hidden from the main road. The car jostled side to side as Daryl drove it down the gravel driveway, leading to the complex. There was a handful of abandoned cars parked sporadically throughout the small parking lot, some trash and debris littering the area, and four lone walkers ambling aimlessly.

Daryl pulled the car off to the side, parking it near the trees and out of sight from the main road, the engine drawing the dead’s attention. “I got ‘em,” he rasped, unsheathing his hunting knife and sliding out of the car in one swift motion.

Your lip quirked up as you watched him dispose of the dead, as quickly and effortlessly as breathing — he’d been made for this world, you were sure of it.

“You coming?” Tara’s voice broke through your thoughts once more, the hint of a mischievous smile ghosting over her features — she’d clearly been watching you ogle at the archer.

You felt your cheeks flush at the scrutiny. “Mhm, yep,” you nodded quickly, shaking away the embarrassment and climbing out of the car.

Daryl crossed back towards you, wiping the walker blood from the blade of his knife onto his jeans and flicking the hair from his face.

“Show-off,” Tara smirked, adjusting the straps of her backpack as she passed him, heading towards the stretch of rooms just ahead.

The archer simply scoffed a breath, rolling his eyes, though you spotted the hint of amusement in his gaze as he waited for you to catch up.

“It’s so weird seeing you without your crossbow,” you remarked, nearing a moment later.

Daryl grunted a breath, swiveling around and falling in step beside you, neither of your momentum’s faltering. “Jus’ wait ’til I find that asshole,” he grumbled, recalling the man he’d met in the woods all those days ago.

“We’ll get you a new one someday,” you smiled, unsheathing your own knife as you approached the motel. “Or you could use the RPG and blow more shit up.”

Daryl snorted a laugh.

“So, how do we wanna do this?” Tara called from up ahead, pausing in front of the center of the strip.

“Room by room?” you suggested, stopping at her side. “One of us can stay on watch, maybe check these other cars for supplies?”

“I got it,” Daryl offered with a nod, re-holstering his gun. “I’ll see if I can get any a’ these guys up an’ runnin’, bring ‘em back home.”

“There’s also an empty gas canister in the trunk,” Tara motioned towards their car. “Salvage what you can,” she shrugged before turning on her heel and heading towards the first room.

You moved to follow, only stopping when Daryl reached out and grabbed your wrist. You turned, spotting the worry in his gaze he tried to hide. “Ya be careful, ya hear me?” he rasped, sliding his grip down and squeezing your hand softly.

“I will,” you nodded, squeezing back, feeling your heartbeat pick up a fraction.

God, you loved him.

The three of you moved quietly and efficiently — you and Tara swept through each room, working your way down the entire motel strip while Daryl picked through the parking lot. The building had been left practically untouched — and besides the supplies you’d managed to scavenge from the motel itself, you’d even found luggage and suitcases left behind by guests who’d apparently vacated in a hurry.

By the time you'd made it halfway down the strip, the packs you brought had been filled to the brim.

“Holy shit-balls, this place is a goldmine,” Tara huffed, tossing her backpack down beside yours in the trunk of your car.

You let out a laugh in disbelief. “I can’t believe it,” you shook your head before scanning the parking lot for Daryl — you spotted him hunched over the hood of a car, his hands buried in the engine, tinkering around. “We should use some of the suitcases we found for the rest of the stuff,” you continued, focusing back on Tara.

“Cool beans,” she shot you a thumbs-up before motioning towards the center of the strip. “Wanna check out the front office before we hit the other half?”

“Sure,” you nodded, slamming the truck shut and falling in step with her as the two of you headed back towards the motel.

When you felt someone watching, you glanced over your shoulder, catching Daryl’s eye — his furrowed brow softened, the corner of his mouth twitching as you sent him a wink and turned back around.

God damn it, you loved him.

Dividing either side of the motel strip was the front office, built just beyond a large swimming pool. There was a tarp draped across the pool, covering most of the swampy green water, though debris floated around the murky edges. Your nose scrunched up as you passed, a funky smell wafting from the mucky water.

“Gross,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself before you glanced over at Tara. “So, you and Denise, huh?” you asked curiously, waggling your eyebrows.

Tara huffed a breath, but you didn’t miss the blush creeping over her cheeks. “I could say the same about you and Dixon,” she shot back, fighting off a smirk.

You rolled your eyes despite the laugh that bubbled out of you. “Oh, come on —”

The rest of your sentence died away, falling from your lips when a sudden growl sounded, breaking the otherwise silent air. You stopped short, Tara halting just beside you. Your breath caught in your throat as you strained your ears, listening for where the noise had come from.

Sure enough, a moment later, a lone walker stumbled into view, coming out from behind the front office.

You let out the breath you’d been holding, feeling Tara do the same. “Hang on, I got it,” you motioned for her to stay put as you jogged ahead, pulling your knife from the holster around your waist. You braced your arm against the biter’s throat, plunging the blade of your knife into its skull in one, swift motion before it dropped at your feet.

But just before you turned to head back, you heard it again — snarling.

Except for this time, it wasn’t just one.

Your stomach dropped as a small herd, about a dozen dead ones, suddenly rounded the corner behind the office, their sights set on you.

“Oh fuck,” you swore, stumbling backward, vaguely aware of Tara yelling your name. But when you spun around, you realized that she too was no longer alone. “Look out!” you shouted, motioning to the two additional walkers quickly approaching from behind her.

As she turned away from you, fighting off the dead that’d snuck up on her, you took off into a sprint, putting some distance between you and the horde.

Tara stabbed her knife into the temple of the first, though the second was on her just as soon. It gripped its fingers around her forearm, pulling her flesh closer and closer towards its snapping jaw…

Just before it could sink its teeth into her skin, you managed to grab it, twisting a fistful of its hair around your fingers and yanking its head backward. You drove your blade through its decaying forehead, stilling it instantly.

But as its grasp slipped away from around Tara’s arm, the walker’s deadweight, in turn, collapsed against you.

You lost your footing and fell backward.

Except the solidity of concrete never rushed up to meet you.

Instead, you were embraced by water, the tarp that’d laid across the motel pool coiling around your body as you sunk deeper and deeper into nothingness.

A/N: EEEEEEK! Y'all know me and how much I love cliffhangers :)

P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!

P.S.S. I can no longer tag people on this account, so my tag list has been transferred to my side blog @crossbowking2. If you'd like to be added/removed, please let me know!

[retrogalwrites]

Aizawa Shouta x Yandere!fReader

Title: “Kiss me as if you are punching me” / view on ao3

summary: Aizawa is kidnapped by a villain obsessed with him, who hopes to finally make the hero hers.

Warnings: dubcon, coercion, unhealthy relationships, drugging, kidnapping, yandere reader, hate fucking from Aizawa's side, delusions, masochism 

Other contents: creampie, orgasm denial, dom/sub dynamic, spanking, rough sex, fingering, masturbation, name calling, a twist because i like twists

Words: 2917

When Aizawa opened his eyes, he was not surprised by the tight rope around his body that kept him viciously tied to a bulky chair. He had been held hostage before, more than once even, it just came with the job, you know?

However, typically, he'd expect some decaying dirty room, some dark, gloomy basement that smelled like shit, just the usual imagery you expect from situations like these.

Instead, his surprise—utter shock if you will—came from the smell of roses and cinnamon that filled his nostrils, the vibrant color red of opulent velvet wallpaper around him and fluffy carpet under his feet of matching color. The room was dimly lit by a varied array of candles carefully placed on expensive-looking furniture, even a fancy bed, it was a very girly and sensual atmosphere that completely crushed his usual expectations of being kidnapped by an enemy. It was one of those rare times that Aizawa felt at loss of words.

"Guess who~?"

Suddenly a saccharine voice, suggestive and obscene, called from behind as a pair of hands playfully covered his eyes. Aizawa froze, of course he knew that voice very well, he groaned at the feeling of round, soft breasts pressing against the back of his head, it gave him annoying goosebumps.

Of course he recognized that voice, even the feeling of your body. For months you had roamed the streets committing mostly petty crime with the sole purpose of getting the hero Eraserhead to chase after you, like some obsessed psycho. Like a little pest, you'd pop up to cause trouble while he was on his nightly rounds without fail, always dolled up, flaunting your assets like a harlot and provoking him shamelessly. Always boldly declaring your insane love for him before managing to slip away into the shadows...

It was such a bizarre case that other heroes had started to tease him about it, laughing about the femme fatale villain that had a crush on him. He despised it, your existence did nothing but to bring yet another thing for him to be tired and annoyed about.

At least, you were a low tier threat, basically harmless really, or so he thought. Being kidnapped by you was the last thing he had expected, and that only annoyed him more, the thought that he had underestimated the situation and how unhinged you really had been.

Aizawa uttered your name under his breath like a cursed word, and you giggled delighted against his ear.

"Yes, it's me~! As expected from my darling."

"Don't call me that." He refuted your pet-names as always, mustering his most stern voice to mask the fact he was still trying to process his own shortcomings that had lead him there. "What the hell is this?"

Removing your hands from his eyes, you remained behind him, placing them instead on his broad shoulders, reminding him of the lack of his scarf-his only offensive weapon- on them.

"Well, what does it look like? I abducted you, silly." You hummed amused, tone far too casual for his liking. But with your fingers digging into the muscle, massaging his soreness, he almost gave in and sighed in relief. "You've been playing so hard to get all this time, and trust me I do love the chase but...I just can't bear with it anymore."

"Then leave me alone." He managed to say instead, as he struggled on his seat, testing the tightness of the binding around him.

"No, can't do." You replied, fingers digging into his shoulders with a more vicious grip that made him wince. "How many times do I have to repeat myself? I love you so much, I need you so bad, I may just die."

"Then die." With a deep, angry tone, he growled. " I don't have time for none of this bullshit."

Of course, you only gushed excitedly, throwing your arms around his neck and embracing him from behind so lovingly, he could feel the heat of your body. "Oh baby, I love it when you are mean!"

"You're delusional." He said.

"Well, yes." You replied. "But I'm still going to get what I want."

As you pulled back, Aizawa felt the sharp tip of a blade pressed against the back of his neck, threatening to cut through if he didn't stay put. He broke into cold sweat.

"Open your mouth."

"..."

"Open your mouth or I'll cut your head off, I really don't want to do that, dear."

You had never threatened him like that before, he hesitated for a second before spitting back, expertly to not let his tumultuous feelings show.

"I'll bite your hand off."

"You know, I wouldn't mind if you did that." You giggled again. Aizawa  sighed deeply, feeling powerless against what was someone who clearly couldn't be reasoned with.

You took advantage of that to bring your fingers to his mouth, slipping inside two white pills before forcing his jaw shut with your hand so he'd have to swallow them. Aizawa tried to spit them out, but you weren't having none of it, in the end he had to swallow the dissolving drug into his system.

"What the hell...did you give me?!"

He demanded as soon as you let go of him, drool dribbling down his scruffy chin.

"Relax, it will make you feel good. I would never poison you, baby."

But it was a little too hard to believe you, of course. His silence said as much.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you...it's an aphrodisiac."

It was like you had actually stabbed him with that knife, the severity of your words weighing on him, an understanding of what you were planning to do with him filling the hero with dread that was almost as big as his self-hatred for having stupidly refused to take you as a bigger threat sooner.

With a soft, feminine laugh, twirling gracefully, you quickly moved around to stand in front of him.

Finally getting to properly look at you, Aizawa jaw almost dropped.

Dressed in a black nightie babydoll, all lace and ribbons, showing off the perfect curves of your body, supple skin of your breasts and nipples behind see-through fabric. The edges fluttered delicately just above your upper thighs, giving him full view of the crotchless panties you wore, your slit shamelessly displayed for him to see.

His body felt as though it was on fire, eyes glued to the glistening wetness already smeared over the pink skin of your folds, even more stickiness clinging to the skin of your inner thighs showing just how fucking wet you had to be.

It was work of the aphrodisiac, he realized, how his heart began racing madly in his chest with pumping blood, a dryness in his mouth and a heat in his abdomen that was making it hard to breath properly.

Aizawa's entire willpower worked harder it ever had just to try to look uninterested at the lewd sight of you. "Well, it sure is a shame you went through all this trouble for nothing."

You pouted at his comment almost childishly, something that gave him a sense of satisfaction despite his situation still being far from improving. But Aizawa had to remain calm, because knowing his colleagues, they would be out to look for him soon enough, all he had to do was to endure ...to endure...to endure what exactly? He still wasn't completely sure, and yet that only made him shiver with unwanted thrill.

"So you say, but you seem to be a little excited already."

Drawling your words, your eyes fixated on his crotch. He looked down as well and cringed, a bulge straining against the fabric of his pants, his cock swelling up simply by looking at your own depraved arousal. He reminded himself it wasn't his fault, it was the drug, he still could fight off the effects.

"You are pathetic, forcing yourself on someone like this." He said with a groan, because his hardening cock was starting to feel uncomfortably tight inside his pants. You rolled your eyes, and laughed.

"Oh no, I'm not going to do that."

Your answer, simple and honest, took him by surprise that Aizawa couldn't conceal.

"I'll simply stand here and enjoy myself, give you a little show. I won't touch you unless you ask me to, my darling."

Before he could respond, you were soon taking one step back from him. Standing on a pair of impractical high heels and stockings, Aizawa watched as you began to sway your hips side to side with hypnotic rhythm, the fluttering edges of the lacy babydoll bringing attention to the ripe shape of your plump thighs, he could even imagine grabbing them with his large hands...fuck, dealing with you would've been far easier from the very start if you weren't so infuriatingly gorgeous.

Aizawa groaned, lips tightly shut, refusing to give you any sort of satisfaction from this.

But as if you could read his mind, you turned around playfully to give him a full view of your backside. The roundness of your fat ass, perfect to grab and force against his aching cock and rut against until he was shooting his seed all over your asscheeks, fuck...his dirty thoughts kept pulling up.

Aizawa's throbbing erection twitched with need, and he tried to rub his thighs together for just a little bit of friction. You didn't notice it in that exact moment, because you were too busy leaning forward to show off your pussy at his hungry gaze, your fingers moving to the crotchless area of your panties to spread your folds with your fingers, giving him a perfect view of your pussy's tight hole.

Even with his dry eyes, he was having a hard time blinking, unable to part away from that obscene view. Your needy little hole so wet for him right there in full display, only a whore would have such little shame and modesty, a crazy whore like you.

Aizawa didn't realize his lip had started to bleed slightly from bitting it too hard.

"God, knowing you are looking at me makes me so excited, baby." You moaned softly, voice full of adoration, looking at him over your shoulder. "Like a dream come true."

Aizawa turned his head away just to try spite you, using his messy long hair to shield his vision, an attempt to dominate this bizarre game of yours, but uncaring to his resistance, you simply continued enjoying yourself for him to witness. Slowly, you slid one finger into your dripping cunt, your legs trembling as you moaned Aizawa's name outloud.

The fire in his blood was reaching a fever pitch, the sound so obscene of his name on your tongue, accompanied to the squelching noises of your finger pumping in and out your tight walls quickly had him looking back at your depraved little show.

As soon as you felt his gaze back on you, another finger was inserted, making yourself mewl dramatically with your back arching like a cat's, then a third finger testing the stretch of your hole around them. You were taking them so well, his breath hitched. Watching how you were fucking yourself like that ignited that primal urge in him to tackle you to the floor and replace those fingers with the thickness of his cock...

"Oh, Shouta...aahhh I love you so much...!!" You started mumbling, like begging, and it made him pitifully buck his hips into the air before he could stop himself.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Aizawa was losing his mind with the drugs maximizing his lust. His cock was so swollen and hard that it was painful, his balls begging to be emptied, just any sort of relief.

Another loud, slutty moan from you that turned into a cry, as your wobbly legs gave out and you slid onto the floor slowly, still fingering yourself you switched positions. Facing him with your legs spread as you sat on the floor, you continued fingering yourself. Now your free hand massaging your own breast, punching the nipple over the fabric of the top.

"I'm so close...ahh...." you panted, looking directly at him, your little pink tongue poking out your gaping mouth. "I'll let you go once I cum, promise."

That was what broke his control, the power of the aphrodisiac too strong to fight. In that moment Aizawa knew he had lost his sense of reason. He struggled violently against the binding rope, a gutural growl erupting from deep in his chest.

"Don't you dare finishing without my permission, you damn bitch."

The commanding tone, the brutality of his voice, you froze in place as you stared at him with wide eyes. He spoke again, glaring at you with unfiltered lust and anger he hadn't felt before. "Untie me now, I'm going to fuck you. That's what you want isn't it? Then bring your pussy over here."

The look on your face was of absolute delight, almost childish in excitement. Before he knew it, you had severed the ropes tying him to the chair with the knife you had kept tucked by the elastic of your stocking.

The sequence that followed happened so fast he barely registered it, when he roughly grabbed you by the arms with his freed hands, forcing you to drop the knife as he pushed you down onto the floor. Crawling on top, Aizawa crashed his mouth against yours, lips violently molding against yours in a desperate, almost animilastic imitation of a kiss, sloppily inserting his tongue into your eager mouth, and you returned the gesture in kind. By the time he realized what had happened, he was already rutting his erection against the gash of your pussy, groaning and whining at the delicious friction.

Breaking the kiss, leaving you with bruised lips, he plopped himself onto his knees and started unbuckling his pants, pulling out his cock that was red and raw, drooling precum like it was about to burst.

"Don't get it wrong, this is only because of your damn aphrodisiac..." He hissed above you, boring his smoldering gaze into yours, stroking his member in one hand.

Then, to his still surprise, you blurted out a hearty laugh. Deviously looking at him like the cat who got the cream.

"Oh, baby...that wasn't an aphrodisiac. It was just regular aspirin."

You admitted so honestly, and Aizawa couldn't do more than stare at you completely dumbstruck for a second. But only a second.

Immediately, you helped loudly as Aizawa unceremoniously turned you over, pulling your hips up so your perky ass was up in the air, and impaled you with his thick, hard cock in one brutal thrust. You cried again, face forced flush against the carpet floor by Aizawa's hand. His hips ruthlessly starting a furious peace, drilling himself into your tight walls without mercy.

"You...damn bitch...are you trying to make a fool of me?!"

Aizawa panted, hissing each syllable with every thrust, his heavy balls slapping against your pussy mound over and over, the dry sound mixing with the wet squelching of your sex being abused.

"Apologize. Apologize for all the trouble you've caused me."

His other hand came down on your ass so hard, the stinging pain making you scream, leaving an raw imprint of his palm on your skin. And he hit you again, and again, as he fucked you relenthlessly.

"Yessss....I'm sorrryyy!!! I'm sorrryyy!!"

You moaned and cried, pain and pleasure too much to bear, words barely making sense. Tears streamed down your cheeks and yet the expression on your face couldn't be anything but pure happiness and adoration for Aizawa. "I love you so much darlin'...aaahh!!! I couldn't help myself!!"

You were so tight and snug inside, your slippery walks tightly squeezing his cock like you didn't want to ever let go of it, he could barely keep himself from cumming too soon with how fucking good you felt.

"You don't deserve to cum." He pushed himself against your back, her larger muscular frame easily pressing your entire body against the floor as he kept fucking you.

"Say it!"

"I...don't deserve to cum!!"

"I'm going to pump you full of my seed and you are going to be grateful for even that."

"Yesssss....!!!!"

Aizawa was soon shooting a heavy load into you, all that accumulated lust from all your teasing, all your annoying chase, all the undying love you proclaimed for him and he had no idea what to do with. He responded to your feelings the only way he knew how, and thick jets of white cum shoot into your womb, painting your walls with his semen until his balls stopped throbbing.

You were full of his cum, a babbling mess looking like you had seen heaven.

Aizawa wasn't sure himself, if he was in heaven or hell.

————

"Hey! Just got a call from the police, guess which wacky villainess is causing trouble downtown today?" The voice of Mic rang into the teacher lounge, peaking his head through he door.

"I don't want to guess." Aizawa muttered softly, quickly getting up on his feet and adjusting his googles, ready to head out. "I'll take care of it."

"Why, Shouta! If I didn't know better, I'd think ya rush to go see her quite a lot these days." A teasing smile, Mic tilted his head curiously. "Did something happen between you two?"

A pause, and the hero turned around to leave.

"Don't be ridiculous."

[kiraakirana]

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩'𝙨 𝙚𝙮𝙚 | h. kakashi

─────────────────────♡──────────────────────

Tonight, a firework display will be held to celebrate Lady Tsunade's inauguration as the 5th Hokage. After going through vulnerable and unstable days after Orochimaru's attack and the 3rd Hokage's death, the villagers of Konoha finally come together to witness a new beginning under a new leader. A new light finally emerged from the brim of sadness, once again giving everyone hope towards a bright future for Konoha.

It was the talk of the village for the past few days, everybody was deciding what kimono to wear and who to invite. As you would be working late that night, you agreed to meet up with your friends at the firework display after you're done with everything.

You could hear the distant laughter and cheeriness while you were walking towards the venue. You smiled to yourself, happy that the depressing days after the attack is over and that the villagers are back on their feet. You had a purple kimono on with your hair down and a white flower clipping as an accessory. You were quite in a rush, so you didn't really put that much thought into it.

After talking with your friends for a while, you felt uncomfortable being a 5th wheel as it turned out that they each brought partners. Excusing yourself, you searched through the crowd for a certain shinobi with a distinct white hair. You weren't sure if he attended or not as he's not that much of a people person. But you were relieved when you saw him near one of the food stands with none other than Guy-sensei.

"Hi," you said as you gently tapped his shoulder. He was wearing a blue kimono with his mask, as always, still on.

"Hey," he replied as he put down his Icha-Icha tactics. "Eh? didn't see you earlier."

"Yeah, I just arrived a few minutes ago, had to work late for an impor- shit," you said abruptly. Panicking, you hastily went behind Kakashi's back to hide yourself when you saw the two guys who asked you out yesterday.

"What happened?"

"I'll explain to you later, help me hide please," you said quietly. Seeing how pathetic your hiding strategy is, Kakashi pushed you softly into an empty alley nearby and positioned himself dangerously close to you. He put his right hand on the wall next to you as an attempt to hide your face from whoever you were trying to hide from. Although it was considerably effective, it wasn't good for your heart, afraid Kakashi could hear its loud beating. Leaning close he said, "This way people wouldn't even try to approach."

You could only nod, looking down to gather your thoughts as you felt your cheeks heating up. Damn this copy ninja! Does he realize the things he could do to you? You have the hots for him and has been desperately trying to keep it oblivious, but right now, you weren't sure if you could keep your feelings in check from how close you two were.

"Well, if this isn't convenient," you muttered under your breath. Not wanting to waste this chance by looking away, you looked up to see Kakashi giving you a smile. "Well, if you don't tell me who you're hiding from, we would stay like this until tomorrow morning," he added, "Not that I have any problems with that."

Embarrassed, you pushed Kakashi and stomped away, "They're gone already." You then looked back at him who looked nonchalant about the entire thing, much like his usual self, walking behind you. To you, it seemed like he was acting indifferent, but you failed to notice that Kakashi was a nervous wreck. Even when his fingertips would brush your skin subtly, it would send shivers down his body. He was giving it his all to hold himself back and not get caught up in the moment.

How could he not? You were a famous kunoichi known for your intelligence and beauty. Despite being younger than him by a few years, he admired your maturity and tendency to remain cool-headed at all times. It's not rare that he overhears his comrades complimenting you. You were a truly skilled and hardworking shinobi who earned everybody's respect.

"Thanks," you said quickly.

"Couldn't hear you," he teased.

"I hate you," you replied while turning away. Kakashi was your senior in ANBU and because of your great chemistry and teamwork, you two were often sent together on missions, therefore explaining your close relationship. He was always there to give you advice and comfort you whenever you felt homesick during long missions.

It wasn't until Kakashi was discharged from ANBU that you felt his great impact on your life. You were in denial for quite some time, until you came to the conclusion that the reason you were constantly worrying and missing him was not because you were simply his friend, no. It was a feeling much stronger than that.

"Is this the thank you I get for saving you?"

You swiftly grabbed his hand and took him to the rooftop across the one where Guy and his team were sitting. This was the best place to see the fireworks and it also meant less chance to encounter the two guys you saw before.

"I saw the two guys that asked me out, they also asked me to go to the firework display with them."

"And you rejected them?"

"Yeah, I said I couldn't go tonight," she shrugged, "I mean, I'd rather go with someone else."

"Then why aren't you with this guy right now?"

That question caught you off guard. "Well, he's definitely here right now," you said awkwardly, "But I wasn't brave enough to ask him to go with me. Besides, I wasn't sure if watching firework is his thing," you said, letting out a laugh. Knowing him, you were sure he'd rather stay at home to read his books. You made a mental note to thank Guy for dragging him here.

"Oh."

"You're not going to press me further about who that person is?"

"No," he shrugged.

"You’re no fun," you said jokingly, although it was an attempt to persuade him to ask you more questions. 

He laughed and said, "Okay then, who's the lucky guy?"

"Well there's no fun in it if you directly ask me who he is, you have to guess."

"Then, what's this person like?"

"Um, let me think," you said as you carefully thought about him, "He may seem very nonchalant at first, but deep down he's someone who cares a lot for his comrades."

"Hm, that wouldn't narrow the options by a lot. How does he look like?"

"He has a distinct hair, tall..."

"Why do you like him?"

"I feel safest around him. He's a truly wonderful person, I wish I had the guts to tell him that. I feel like he doubts himself a lot. He needs to know that a lot of people are grateful for him, including me. I've never liked anyone else the same way I like him."

"As your senior, I say you should just straight-up tell him about how you feel,” he gave you a smile and a thumbs-up to encourage you. 

“Ah, so she has a special someone. I mean, it’s no surprise right? Someone like her couldn’t possibly be single forever. I guess I was too late, huh?” thought Kakashi. 

"Well, I don't know if he feels the same way..." you said, shifting awkwardly in your seat. 

"But there's no telling unless you tell him right?"

"Yeah, I guess...”

To hell with pride.

"I like you, Kakashi."

"Wait, I mean you should tell him that, not me."

"Huh? This whole time I was talking about you, damn it."

"Uh? So you?" he looked at you, surprised. You didn't know what made him so surprised though, wasn't that obvious hints? Who else has distinct hair in Konoha? Okay, aside from Guy and a few other people... Yeah, maybe you should've just said 'white hair' but it would be like giving it away.

"Yeah, whatever you're trying to say. If you're going to reject me, at least wait until the firework's over so you don't ruin it."

It was silent for a while and all you wanted to do was throw yourself to the river. Just kidding. You should've stayed home. But then again, there's no better time than right now. It’s either now or never. You had to get the weight off your chest and you’ve prepared for the worst possible outcome for years. "You know what, I'm sorry. I know it's ridiculous for me to like you when you have so many other-"

"I like you too, Y/N."

"Girls fawning over-" you froze for a moment and looked at him in disbelief, "Wait, did you just?"

"Come," he said as he stood up and gave her his hand, "I know a place where you can see the fireworks much better." It was one of your favorite Kakashi smiles, the one where you couldn't see his eyes. Despite not being able to see the rest of his face, this was enough to put the butterflies in her stomach.

It was a place near the river, far from the busy crowd. The water moves calmly and the fireworks could be seen clearly. "You know, I was serious when I said those things. I really see you as a wonderful person."

"Yeah, I know. I'm a very lucky guy."

"But don't get too full of yourself," you said jokingly, landing a weak punch on his arm.

You looked at Kakashi, who was laughing wholeheartedly, in awe. This was truly a sight to remember. Feeling entirely grateful, you gave him a shy hug, hiding your face on his kimono. Y/N who was usually a confident, collected person, became a mess whenever he's around. Only he’s able to do that. 

Kakashi ran his fingers through your hair soothingly and rested his head on top of yours. Despite the loud cracks of the fireworks, you could subtly hear Kakashi's soft voice saying, "Thank you, Y/N."

-

A/N: this is inspired after seeing Kakashi on episode 306 of Shippuden called ‘The Heart’s Eye’. It was so cute seeing Kakashi in a kimono, I just want to give him the biggest hug:(

[loser-hub]

All For One.

Summary: There needs to be more content for this gloriously sinister man and I am more than happy to provide! How does it begin? Will you escape his clutches or will you submit to his desires?

Warnings: Yandere Tendencies, Kidnapping, Mild mention of Starvation, Dubcon, Quirk use during sex, Mind-Break and a whole host of degeneracy.

Notes: I tried to make the reader as vague as I possibly could for insert pleasure! GN with as few details as possible so it could be anyone or anything! This is 18+, minors dni. If you'd like to block any content of this nature on my page please put Tw: Heavy Spice in your filtering options!

A/N: I really don't know if I should apologize for this or not, you can see the point it got out of hand so please be warned and take your tastes and limits into account while reading!

A terrible fate has befallen you, hasn't it?

Your meeting was rather innocuous. So easily forgotten despite the feelings time with him supplanted. Long before his debut in the Kamino Ward and before his defeat at the hands of the Symbol of Peace. He wasn't heavily deformed then, he could easily mix in with the crowds and disappear as quickly as he appeared. His shaggy white hair and piercing blue eyes matched only by his stature and smile, the consensus of the humdrum day-to-day passerby was that he was quite attractive. Not that he ever entertained their mindless and painfully obvious observations.

The fateful event happened rather cliché all things considered. It began in a library. Wonders never ceased and he was unsure what compelled him to enter the home of knowledge and entertainment but he never once regretted it. Wandering the sea of books he looked for anything that would pique his interest, he nearly gave up the search until his eyes landed on you. An innocent, tiny thing that perused the history section for your latest essay or project, he never specifically asked why you were there.

He was captivated, captured by your beauty. Staring there at the entrance of the aisle for so long that when you turned you shrieked, believing him to be a well dressed Weeping Angel that you had read about the night before. That was the most embarrassing moment of your life as you apologized to him and to the librarian that zipped to the location to scold you about being too loud. For once he found apologies endearing, cute even, adorable if you feel so inclined and the sheer shock that a creature like you could exist in this world was pushed to the wayside.

The encounter was swift but profound, for him at least. Using his towering height to pull a book from the shelf you were too short to reach and place with the over growing collection. You were stuttering and blushing something fierce underneath his gaze and he had to stop himself from smirking at your bashfulness. He asks for your name and once you divulge it he responds by insisting you call him Mr. Shigaraki. After more insistence from either side hearing his name fall from your lips was like he was graced with hearing the voice of an Angel.

Sadly that's where the meeting ended as your time was up for whatever was going to take up your time next and you needed to scurry away. You wouldn't be forgotten as your face was forever burned in his memory, a fondness churning in the pit of his stomach. He believed everyone else was beneath him, save for his brother, who were all ants that needed to be squashed. You were different and he needed to find out why.

Time passes, as it always does. You forgot your encounter with Mr. Shigaraki and life went on. The day started off oddly, you couldn't place why but the hairs at the back of your neck stood on end. A lingering sense of doom settled in your mind like a dense fog on a dewy spring morning but whatever the reason had yet to reveal itself. This too was forgotten as the day progressed until it was late, late enough for you to seek refuge in your bed. About to drift off to sleep when suddenly your whole room shook, no, the entire area shook like an earthquake had just opened the earth beneath your feet. Looking out your bedroom window you saw chaos, the entire area had been decimated and nothing but rubble remained. Heroes had appeared and began evacuating just in time for your home to collapse.

You drifted in and out of consciousness. The moments where your eyelids were opened you saw none other than All Might, the Symbol of Peace, face down a masked villain in a suit. Shock was written on the hero's face when you called out to him for help, accidentally gaining the attention of the villain as well. If he still had eyes they would be wide and manic, he had not forgotten you of course but there you were. He had searched for you so fervently and yet here you were right under his nose. Your presence, he could feel it using that quirk from the cat rescuer and he instantly knew it was you. What luck. The fight was abandoned when he saw this was his best chance, the rest of the heroes were too focused on fighting off his pawns and All Might was too wounded to move.

In an instant the masked villain moved the rubble that had been pinning you in place and whisked you away.

Your fear was intoxicating. The pleas, begs and sobs that you cried were more delicious than anything he had ever experienced. More euphoric than any narcotic, sweeter than ambrosia. The beats of your hands on his back drowned out by the drumming of his heart, his mouth was beginning to water. He could hardly wait.

Like any self respecting villain All For One had many, many hideouts and safe houses. Many hadn't been used in years, others were still unknown to the heroes, then there was one. The place he took you was far more special, the place he had planned to bring you after that fateful day but never used when you slipped away. Well, you wouldn't escape this time.

For a place that hadn't seen life in years it was surprisingly well kept. Not a speck of dust laid on any surface, a few lightbulbs had died or exploded when he flipped on the lights but the water still ran and there was heat, it would do nicely for the time being. During the short trip via warp gate you had passed out, the silence when it had been delicious begs was disappointing but his signature smile appeared. There would be plenty of time to hear you cry while he breaks you into the perfect doll.

After your "retrieval" he places you on the never before used emperor sized bed and retreats to the lounge chair at your bedside. He sits perfectly still, staring at you much, admiring how much you changed and grew in his absence. A hint of pride bubbles up, he's pleased to know the lovely being he remembers became even fairer and more perfect. The feat would be impossible for any other person but you were made for him, you're his, and you had to be for a man such as him.

When you wake up those beautiful, blissful begs are heard by his worthy ears once again. Behind his life support helmet he sighs, a heavenly breath that you take for annoyance. You cry. "Please don't kill me", "Don't hurt me", "I'll do anything" but oh sweet thing, you're going to do anything he says regardless. You're his. Why would he hurt or kill you? If he wanted you dead, you'd be dead.

It comes as a surprise that he's afraid to remove his facial cover. He might be the Symbol of Evil with plans of world domination but there's a portion of him that is a slave to your desires, just as the world is a slave to his. A sliver of doubt appears as you ask who he is, if he reveals his identity and you ask for proof, his disfigured appearance would revolt you. No blue eyes to see you blush, no hair for you to run your hands through, no lips to feel yours on his.

"Mr. Shigaraki" was the clue he gave you. It was adorable seeing your face go blank as your mind was wracked trying to remember the face. He watched with bated breath as your eyes showed recognition, you remembered him. You remember his face, his smile, his feeling. That wasn't helpful, now you had a face to the person who kidnapped you. Who was holding you captive for...what? Ransom? To be tortured? To be his plaything? Every possibility was worse than the last, each one more dire and inescapable and bleak.

He did his best to comfort you albeit in a deleterious manner. The Emperor of Darkness' weight was displaced from the lounge chair and moved to the bed, his near gigantic form towering over you. Knee pressing into the mattress, causing your body to naturally shift into him. You couldn't move. There was no gap to dash through if your body would get over being paralyzed in fear. The hand that could cover your head was placed on your cheek with uncharacteristic gentleness, a soft gesture that was masked by the sinister appearance staring down at you.

"Fear not, My Sweet." His voice is slightly muffled by the life support, the emotions were unbridled, intense and all together unhinged. He's wholeheartedly delusional, diluted enough to believe he's going to the the greatest Demon Lord who ever lived and would dismantle the world, rule it all the while having your love. He craves it, he needs it, he's desperate for it. It drives him mad and being this close to you sends him to the brink of insanity.

Your limitless stubbornness is as wonderful as it is infuriating. All For One can't have the object of his love be a pushover from the gate, at least not yet. He has to experience the pleasure of breaking you, making you submit to him before you're allowed to follow his orders. He has to make you his Doll first, his obedient, beautiful Doll. That's a tall order and as the days pass his desperation grows. The itch in the back of his mind needed to be scratched and it was becoming clear his tactics were having the effect he desired. You stymied his every attempt, reacted the exact opposite of how he expected. He loved it, the last flame of your fighting spirit getting snuffed out in his raging insistence. He was beginning to wear you down, headway was being made and the inevitable end result was near.

All For One's machinations had increased in cruelness, once he had left you enough water to last a week and nothing else. The food vanished and all you were left with were bottles of water. He was gone for two weeks, it only took ten for you to teeter on the edge of sanity. Devoid of any interaction from the outside world. Only you, your thoughts and the dwindling "supplies". When he returned he was pleased he was greeted with showers of affection, your touch was smothering and your body was pressed to his as close as humanly possible. The last of your will had fled in his absence and now his Doll was in the perfect state to mould to his liking.

That night it begins. You're so needy, so greedy. He decides to indulge you and removes his helmet, confident you wouldn't be repulsed by his scarred visage. He's correct of course, when you were met with the invitation to express your desperation you take it. Your lips wander. Pressing messy and half-opened kisses to his neck, jaw, and whatever remained of his own lips as his massive hands lead you towards the bed. You don't notice until the back of your knees hit the edge and suddenly you're falling.

He's on you in an instant. The bed sinks with his added weight and the heat he radiated replaced the warmth provided by your clothes. Before you knew it his thick yet dexterous fingers were pushing into your hole unprompted, sheathing them down to the knuckle before they were retracted. He was going to take immense satisfaction by making you climax until you were babbling incoherently before even preparing you for his villainous cock.

Which was exactly what he did, denying you orgasm until you were red in the face and sobbing. All For One sat back on his knees in victory, smirking as he watched you wiggle and writhe at the loss of attention. There was one final thing: hearing you finally give into him. He owned your body but he needed to own your mind, your soul, your spirit, everything.

"Say it." In the moment his voice was low, gruff, reverberating throughout your clouded mind to send heat straight down to your nethers. You might've been aroused before but nothing compared to what his voice did to you.

"S-s-say w-wh-wha?" Barely able to form a sentence you willed yourself to speak, if only to repeat whatever he wanted so he would continue with his mind numbing ministrations. The lack of sending you in a desperate rut the likes of which you had never experienced. He was cruel, further denying you what you wanted. His hand so near to your skin that the tiny peach hairs picked up the presence but when your hips bucked to force him to touch you? He left entirely.

"Beg. Beg for me to fuck you, to ruin your body, to corrupt your mind and make you mine. Mine alone."

That was quite the mouthful and you weren't sure if you could say it back but that's what he wanted. Mustering your frenzied will you commanded yourself to speak, to plead for what you so desperately wanted. "Please, please fuck me. Please I need you, I need you, please make me yours. I want to be yours, please!"

Every second, every breath, every thought had been leading up to this moment. All For One was in Seventh Heaven upon hearing your final submittance, exultantly triumphant. Your reward was swiftly delivered, the bulbous head of his cock pressed against the entrance of your hole and with one swift thrust he inserted himself to the hilt. The sharp edge of his hips cutting against the plush of your inner thighs, it hurt, it hurt so much. He had prepared you, scissoring and stretching you, it wasn't enough. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the full stuffing of his cock inside you was enough to make you regret begging him to fuck you, sensing this he didn't move. Giving you time to adjust and acclimate while licking away your salty tears. The heat of his heavy breath oddly comforting.

Once your filled hole stopped fluttering all bets were off. His hips snapped expeditiously in the customary manner of fucking ones Doll till they came undone and fell into unconscious from the exhaustion and pleasure they felt. He was unrestrained. The initial softness and care he showed was the furthest thing in his mind now all that was left was a feral need to fuck his Doll till they were bedbound. He makes sure you know who owns you, using his numerous quirks to let you there was no escape. Musculoskeletal Coiling to make his already bed shattering thrusts harder. Proliferation, creating several pairs of arms and hands to tease you in places all at once. Reaching to grasp at your neck, fingers tweaking your oversensitive nipples all the while more teased and played with places unimaginable. Once using his Air Walk quirk to suspend you both amidst the impactful love-making.

Time had no meaning. Whatever seconds you counted to remember how many times he had made you climax were a distant dream, black spots appeared in your vision, your body somehow numb and pained all at once. The lightest touch was like you had been set on fire. In one particularly lucid moment you swore a drop of his milky cum was sliding past your nose but you don't remember blowing him or snorting it out but in the haze who knows what had happened. Finally the peaceful sleep wrapped you in its arms and carried you off to a safer place for a time.

Just as you passed out All For One finally came. Engorging you to the very brim, his fingers acting as a stopper to keep his demonic cum from spilling out. Whatever was left of the wrecked bed was used as All For One took your limp, sleeping body and wrapped you up in the soiled duvet.

The afterglow shone brightly like a halo while he laid with you. Keeping you flush against him. The plotting began again. Awaiting your eventual awakening to show you the other quirks at his disposal. He was far from done with you. It hadn't been a day since your submission and he intended to keep you as his Doll till you were well and old and your last breath was the escape from his eternal love.

[littleoddwriter]

Soothing | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader

Another vent fic, sorry.

summary; You accidentally triggered yourself, Roman comforts you.

notes; TW / CW // Bleeding; Self-Harm (scratching); (mild) Dissociation. Daddy!Kink; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Sitting in one’s lap; Soft Kisses. Reader suffers from BPD and has atopic dermatitis (only mentioning it, so as to explain why things happen the way they do, but it should still be general enough to be relatable to anyone, really).

All morning long, you’ve felt this buzzing excitement under your skin, which had you restless, but feeling happy for the time being. You wished it’d never stop, although you knew that was inevitable.

As if on cue, your mood crashed.

You had been watching videos about mental health, since it was often a pretty good resource to either learn more about yourself, or find new tips to help yourself. Still, some of the videos were quite triggering and you hadn’t noticed it until it had already been too late.

Now you just sat in the leather armchair, knees drawn up to your chest. Feelings of anger, anxiety, guilt and sadness overwhelmed you. They seemed to suffocate you. It was bad. The contrast to how you’ve felt only minutes ago struck you like lightning. Tears pricked your eyes, but you didn’t dare shed them.

The urge to hurt yourself overcame you; all kinds of ways to do it wormed themselves into your brain, dominating any other thought. You took deep breaths and held tightly onto your legs. You wouldn’t give in. You couldn’t.

But the feelings were just too much. You just wanted to get rid of them, fast. Make it hurt less. Physical pain was only temporary, but the emotional one – it felt as though it clawed at your insides and tore them apart. None of those wounds ever healed. The pain seemed to go on forever. So, yes, as bad as it was, a bit of physical pain was far more preferable then.

Your skin had already started to react to your distress, itching relentlessly. It felt as if those spots on your wrists, back of your hands and fingers were burning.

Wanting to rid yourself of that sensation as well, and taking it as the gateway to harming yourself, you started scratching. It relieved you for a second. Then the wounds started bleeding, oozing other fluids as well. It burned, still. But different in a way that it was almost bearable.

Then it stopped altogether. Your emotional pain stayed, though. You wished it had helped it more.

Before you could get up to do anything worse to yourself, though, Roman came into the room. He had been doing business in his office, prior to that.

Black Mask walked over to you and you averted your gaze. You knew that what you were feeling was written all over your face. It made you feel ashamed, weak, and small. You hated for him to see you like that. It only had you feel as though you were even more of a burden to him.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, my prince?” Roman asked gently, quietly, as he stood beside you now, one hand resting on the armchair’s backrest, the other on one of your knees.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, your eyes fixed on your knees then. It wasn’t a complete lie, either. Your mind felt like static.

Black Mask hummed pensively, “I fail to believe that. Don’t you want to tell Daddy what’s going on?”

He lifted his hand from your knee and gently took hold of your chin, tilting your head up to have you look at him. You wanted to avert your gaze, but couldn’t possibly. No matter what, he always mesmerised you, taking your breath away.

“I don’t know, sorry, Daddy. I just- I accidentally triggered myself. Now I’m- you know. In pain,” you explained after a few beats of silence. Your voice was strained with the effort of holding back tears and cries of anguish you wished you could let out, but it was all stuck inside of you.

“That’s not good, baby,” Roman stated the obvious and paused, his head tilting to get a look at your hands instead. He clicked his tongue. “Was that on purpose?” he asked then.

In favour of taking your hands in his gloved ones, he let go of your chin and the backrest. He held your hands in a gentle grip, looking them over. Your knuckles on your fingers were bleeding, and so were the backs of both of your hands, the insides of your wrists, your palms, and the spaces between your fingers. You felt embarrassed. You hadn’t even noticed just how much you had scratched open. It had all just been an itching, burning mess to you.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart,” Roman chided, not unkindly so.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. But– yes and no? It was itching – burning, really. So I just scratched. I didn’t know how bad it’d be.”

Nodding, Black Mask cautiously stroked his leather-clad thumbs over your wounded hands, careful not to inflict more pain onto you. It was soothing.

“Do you still want to hurt yourself?”

“I think want is the wrong word for it, but yeah, the urge is still there.”

“Right, my mistake.”

Roman took hold of your arms and tugged gently to make you get up, so you did. Then he sat down in the armchair and positioned you in his lap. Your back was leaning against his solid chest, his strong arms were wrapped around your middle, and your face was tucked into the crook of his leather-clad neck.

You didn’t exactly know why, but this was one of your favourite positions to sit in with him. It was as though his entire presence enveloped you, shielding you from the world. The pleasant, smoky scent of his cologne, mixed with the leather of his mask, was intoxicating to you, such as the warm feeling of said mask that had taken on his body heat by then, which is why you always loved to press your face into it. Not only did it blind you, effectively making reality disappear, but it was incredibly calming, too.

His left arm stayed around your middle, his hand resting on your stomach in form of a constant pressure and warmth. He lifted his other arm to gently stroke his fingers through your hair. No one else had ever been allowed to play with your hair in any way, since it usually caused you to freak out, but for some reason, it just felt right when he did it.

Shifting a little and lifting your head from his neck, you strained to look at him. “Thank you, Daddy,” you murmured and kissed his leather-clad cheek.

“Anything for you, my sweet prince,” he replied, and even though he couldn’t truly smile anymore, you could hear it in his voice.

Then he turned his head and nudged the zipped up mouth of his mask against your lips in a mock kiss. You loved it. Softly, you kissed him back, a slight smile on your face.

Almost suddenly, you felt so light.

“I love you,” you murmured against his zipper.

With the proximity between you two, you could hear the sharp but quiet intake of breath he did when you said it. It wasn’t the first time, but it hasn’t been all that long since. He still wasn’t entirely used to you saying it, it would seem.

“I adore you, too, my boy.”

A soft, bright smile stretched your lips and you kissed him again, more enthusiastically, but just as gentle and innocent as before. The hand that had previously been playing with your hair, still, was now cupping your cheek, his leather-clad thumb stroking it while you two kissed.

For the time being, you had been able to forget about what had even led you to this moment in the first place. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered as long as you were in his arms, his presence, and only his.

[xxiaoyang]

divine | xiaojun (m)

xiaojun has been working extra hard lately, so you decide to reward him for his efforts and make sure he knows how amazing he is

words: 3k

warnings/tags: smut, praise, body worship, oral, kinda dom!reader, sub!xiaojun, noona kink?, feelings, some fluff, this is pretty soft i think

a/n: the make a wish mv made me feel all sorts of ways, and i just think xiaojun is perfect so.

you're sitting on your couch in your apartment transfixed by the video on the tv in front you when your phone vibrates next to you, pulling you from your trance.

did you watch it yet?

it was your sweet boyfriend, dejun, wondering if you had already seen the music video for his unit's new song.

he must not have thought that you would be watching the clock, ready by your tv for it to be posted so you could see just what he had been up to the past few weeks. dejun was being oddly secretive about this comeback in particular. normally he would be running to you, excited to show you some new choreo or sing for you since you always expressed how much you loved it. to be frank, he loved the praise.

so it was surprising that this time he shared almost nothing about this new song with you. but now, after watching the music video about six times and repeating his parts several more, you understand why.

you're almost thankful that he never came to you and showed you anything before the release, because the finished product was overwhelming, to say the least. and if he showed up in front of you with that, you might not have let him finish his part.

you grabbed your phone immediately to answer him.

of course i did. baby, that was...

you were...

you were at a loss for words. there was nothing you loved more than seeing dejun looking so confident on stage, feeling good and shining under the spotlight. the way he lost himself in his performance took your breath away every time - and made you extremely hot. he was irresistible.

dejun giggled to himself at your reaction, knowing exactly the effect it had on you and how you were feeling. he just wished he could get there quicker.

is that a good thing? was i alright?

he knew very well that you were practically drooling over him, but he wanted to hear it. the only validation he really cared for was yours. it made him feel so good and made him want to do whatever it would take to please you and hear it more.

you scoffed at his message, but gave in anyway. dejun deserved to be praised, worshipped even, for his efforts.

you were more than alright, baby. you stole the show, i couldn't even see anyone else in that video.

dejun smiled at your message and waited for you to finish typing.

you're incredible, truly. i love seeing you front and center. i love the way you look when you dance, you have so much power and charm. and your voice is so smooth and sexy. it's perfect. you're perfect.

you couldn't help but gush. it was all the truth and you wanted him to know.

on the other end of the phone dejun was hiding his very red face in his hand, your words affecting him so strongly that he was sure the other members could see his thoughts floating through the air.

a sudden wave of heat came over him, the crowded van now too hot for him and the heavy thoughts that invaded his mind. he needed to be alone, but he had to wait a little longer.

he wanted you. he wanted to see you and hear you say all of those things to him. the thought was quickly overtaking him and his sense, and he knew he needed to get out of the car soon or else he might embarrass himself- and the other members.

he mentally cursed the traffic in the city and pulled up his phone to text you back.

are you home? can i come over? please

your heartbeat picked up at that.

you don't have any schedules for the day?

no, i'm free for tonight. we just left practice and we're on the way home. i'm sure manager-nim could give me a ride if that's okay?

you hesitated for a moment, though you weren't really pondering it. the answer was always yes. another message came through before you could reply.

need you, noona

it felt like your mouth was going dry, you needed him just as much. it felt like it had been so long since you had him all to yourself. you typed three letters and tossed your phone onto the cushions of the couch, rushing to your room to change.

yes.

dejun had to hold back the moan that threatened to fall past his lips. he was already planning on going to your place, knowing his free time was rare, but now that he was on his way he was getting restless.

he checked his gps to find they were less than ten minutes away from your apartment. with a sigh he put his phone in his pocket, focusing on looking as normal as possible for the rest of the ride.

it was only a few minutes after you'd finished getting ready that the sound of knocking filled your apartment.

you jumped and hurried to the door, hastily opening it and pulling dejun inside and checking that there was no one in the hall.

closing and locking the door, you turned and pulled him into a tight hug, not realizing how badly you missed your sweet boy.

dejun squeezed you back, melting into your touch and humming into your hair. it felt like coming home. he felt safe.

you were the first to pull away, stepping back to take his face in your hands and look at him. you removed the mask and threw it somewhere on the table nearest you, sighing at his beautiful features. often you wonder how he could even be real.

"hi," he whispered cutely, as if it were a secret.

you giggled, "hi baby. i've missed you."

he let his eyes close and leaned into your touch. he could be like this forever.

your eyes moved over his face to his blond hair, thinking back to the music video.

"so, that's what you were hiding from me, huh? you wanted to keep it a surprise?"

he lowered his head in your hand and nodded, as if he had done something wrong.

"wanted you to surprise you. i've been working really hard and i'm pretty satisfied with my parts. wanted you to see it when it was perfect."

your heart swelled at his confession. one of the things you loved most about your boyfriend was his passion. he always put his best into everything he did, and it always produced wonderful results.

you moved your hand to the back of his neck, playing with the hair there.

"you should be satisfied. you're amazing. i'm sure you're going to be everyone's new favorite once they see you."

you intended for it to make him feel good, stroke his ego a bit, he was always so humble.

dejun shook his head and held your waist in his hands, his slender fingers gripping at the fabric of your shirt.

"thank you," he buried his face into your hair, "just wanna be your favorite."

you pulled back with your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them and moving to his chest while his eyes followed your movement.

"you are my favorite boy, always have been, always will be."

you could feel his breathing quicken under your hands and decided to take it further.

"my favorite boy who dances so well, sometimes i can't believe ten is the lead dancer of the group."

he lifts his head at that, thick eyebrows arched, his warm eyes searching yours for any sign of bluffing.

you double down. "my favorite voice. the prettiest singing voice i've ever heard. and even speaking. i could listen to it for the rest of my life."

he lets out a whimper and grips your shirt tighter. that's when you're reminded that you're still standing at your door, and he's still in his coat and shoes.

you pause to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, hinting at him to come inside and get comfy.

dejun kicks off his shoes and follows as you guide him to your bedroom by the hand, heart thumping in his chest, his mind replaying your words on a loop.

once in your room, you gently push him back against the door, smoothing your hands over his chest, taking note of how much harder it's gotten in the last few months. the corner of your mouth twitches at that.

you continue your attack. "and you've been looking so delicious lately. your arms are so big and toned and your chest has gotten so broad. i could eat you whole."

you're careful not to overdo it so he doesn't overthink your compliments. you know he's a bit self-conscious about his body and you don't want to make him feel like you're teasing.

your words hit the right spot and he shivers, a low moan escaping him.

he tilts his head back against the door and you take the opportunity to press your lips to his neck, sucking lightly and leaving kisses up to his jaw.

"you've been working so hard, haven't you?" your fingers crawl under the hem of his light blue sweatshirt and up his sides causing goosebumps to rise beneath your fingertips.

"noona..." he croaks out.

you hum and continue nipping at his neck knowing how sensitive he is there while your hands make their way to his bare chest. you want to see him, but you want to work him up some more.

"my little boy has gotten so big, don't you think?" you drag out the word and feel his whole body flinch at the name. he loves when you call him that. it makes him feel safe and protected and, well, little.

dejun feels like his legs are going to give out at any moment. between the praise and your touches, he's surprised he's still comprehending any language at all.

you want to make him feel loved, to tell him what you see and show him how much you appreciate every bit of him, so you push on.

"you were so sexy. who said you could dance like that?" you finished your sentence with a pinch to his nipple, earning a cry from him.

"i just might get jealous," you teased, no seriousness behind the statement.

your fingers kept rubbing over his hardened nipples and it was making it hard to think. dejun never really said it, but he wanted you to be a bit possessive. he wanted you to want him, to claim him.

he shook his head, seemingly all he was capable of doing in this position, as he fished for words to respond.

"'m yours. your boy. no one else's." he was panting.

you fingers never let up on his nipples, circling and flicking them, only leaving them momentarily to drag your nails down his chest.

dejun's knees were getting weaker, buckling once and making you wrap your arms around him to keep him up.

you decided to stop your teasing and give him what he deserves.

"come on, baby boy, let's get you on the bed."

he just whined and allowed you to walk him to it, sitting him on the end as you moved to straddle him.

dragging your hands down his sides, you paused at the bottom of his hoodie, looking at him to ask for permission.

he nodded and lifted his arms for you to pull it the whole way off.

looking at him like this was like a break in the clouds, the light of the heavens shining on you and filling you with warmth. you could never get over how beautiful he was. every part of him held a different wonder to marvel.

"that's right. you are my boy. my special boy."

you leaned forward to press your lips against his tenderly, the first time since he'd arrived.

dejun tilted his head and let you lead, his tongue joining yours when it poked past his lips.

he tried to focus as your hands roamed around his torso, eventually migrating down to the waistband of his jeans.

"can i see more of you, my love?"

dejun was sure this is what heaven would be like. the way you were so gentle with him, taking care of him and making him feel so special. always making sure he was on board with you before initiating anything. the way you could make even the most simple names seem like a gift. he had to try not to get swept away in his feelings. he gave you a sure nod.

with that you looped an arm under him and shifted him higher onto the bed with you.

"up." you hooked your fingers under his waistband and he obediently lifted his hips to let you tug his pants down to his knees.

seeing him exposed to you like this, skin so soft and light with a pink tint, made heat swirl in your stomach.

"my baby boy is so pretty."

you crawled over him and leaned down to kiss his chest right over his heart. a soft sigh came from above you.

leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses on the way, you move from his pink nipple down his stomach over his belly button.

"do you know how much i love your tummy?"

dejun wasn't sure if he should answer so he lifted his head to meet your eyes.

"it's one of my favorite parts of you. i love how smooth and soft it is. i love how sensitive you are and how much you react when i scratch at you here." you punctuated your sentence with a light scratch to his hip bone, making him squirm under you as if on cue.

"i love your small waist and your hips, you have such a nice figure," you traced your hands down as you spoke.

he whined from the back of his throat. he would never get used to your compliments.

"t-thank you, noona."

you hummed in response, finding it cute how willingly he used the title for you.

"my other favorite part of you," you whispered as your fingers inched toward his already hard length, "is this one." your fingers brushed up his shaft and his whole body jerked.

you wrapped your fingers around him softly, stroking his tip and spreading his wetness with your thumb. your boyfriend threw his head back into the mattress, groaning in a deep tone.

you couldn't wait any longer, you wanted to taste him.

straddling his legs, you positioned yourself over him and leaned down to wrap your lips around the head of his dick.

"ah-" his cry was cut off when you lowered your mouth onto him, taking him almost the whole way. he could feel his brain sloshing around in his skull and he knew he wasn't going to last long.

your tongue moved in circles over his tip before you removed yourself with a soft pop.

"my baby boy is so big, all for me, hm?" you wanted to keep him with you so he didn't cum so soon, but the blissed out look in his eyes told you it was futile.

he nodded frantically. "all for you. just you. shit. please."

"so big and wide for me, fills me up so well."

dejun was bucking into your hand, his own clutching the sheets and one coming down to search for yours. when he finds it he threads his fingers with yours and squeezes.

you squeeze back, trying to control the fluttering in your chest, and stroke him faster with your other hand.

his moans are getting more frequent and higher in pitch, and you have to remind him to keep still. he's close.

"what do you want, baby? do you want to finish with my hand or my mouth?" your hand still stroking the edges of his head.

he groans and squeezes his eyes shut, the stimulation leaving no room for coherent thought. it takes a few seconds before he's able to say he wants your mouth.

"please," he adds.

you smile at him and dip your head back down into position. "that's my good boy."

you're bobbing your head up and down, focusing on his tip with your tongue, trying to give him as much pleasure as possible.

dejun's grip on your hand tightens and he's mewling and moaning out pleas for you to keep going.

you pull off of him for only a second, "i love the sounds you make, baby. let me hear you." and you go straight back into it, moving your mouth on him faster.

he can feel the pressure building up in his tummy, he's about to cum.

"noona, please. it's so good, i'm gonna... i need to-"

"mm, you can. cum for me, angel. paint it over my tongue." you drop back onto him all the way, letting him hit the back of your throat and hollowing your cheeks.

his arms are twitching and his back arches as he gasps. "noona! i'm-"

that's all he gets out before you feel him shooting into your mouth, his hot cum sliding down your throat and overflowing into your cheeks. you milk him of all he has and stop right before he gets over sensitive.

you lift yourself off of him, keeping some of his cum on your tongue to show him, then swallowing as he watches with hooded eyes.

he never lets go of your hand and pulls you up to be eye level with him, your chest against his.  

dejun tilts his head and kisses you eagerly, tasting himself on your tongue and sighing into your mouth.

you peck his lips and sit up on your elbow, taking in the sight of him. watching as his shoulders rise and fall with his breathing, sweat glistening on his neck and forehead. a pink glow in his cheeks. he looks angelic.

"you're so beautiful, dejun."

his eyes open a little wider at the use of his full name, and his heart falls a little further when he sees the look in your eyes.

he doesn't try to thank you, instead he wraps his arms around you and brings you closer to him. "i love you."

"i love you too, my beautiful boy. always."

[ashidominasimp]

I saw this idea on my dash a while back, and I had to write something abt it. So: Kirishima doing Bakugou's eyeliner.

-

Bakugou wore eyeliner under his mask, to hide the skin that showed whenever it shifted. He wasn't particularly good at it, and frankly he didn't care. It didn't have to look good, it just had to do its job. However, despite his flippancy towards the practice, application was almost always an intentionally private affair, one that took place in a bathroom stall or changing room, with a handheld compact mirror.

The act made him vulnerable, for some reason, and he hated that feeling, as those who knew him were all too well aware of. So he, well... he hid. He hated the openness that creeped to him, the stealing away of sheltered safety. It was the same feeling that was currently threatening to crawl up his spine as he made his way out of the bathroom, eyeliner and pride in hand.

He’d tried to put the eyeliner on as usual, but an intense session of quirk training the day prior had left his arms shaky and unstable. As much as he loathed asking for help, he supposed it was better than a liner pen in the eye.

He sauntered out of the bathroom towards Kirishima, trying to look as confident as ever, in spite of the uncertainty he felt at what he was about to do. Kirishima, oblivious to Bakugou's inner conflict, was in the midst of the unnecessarily tricky process of securing his sleeves to his shoulder guards. Why he wore that stupid shit, Bakugou will never understand why hide those beautiful arms?

As he approached, Bakugou couldn't help but notice the way his muscles looked when twisted in the manner he was. He was reaching back to hook the clasp near his shoulder blade, causing the tight, corded muscle of his abs and lats to stretch taut. Bakugou quietly noted the image in front of him, filing it away for later fantasizing consideration.

"Oi, shitty hair!" Kirishima looked up at the sound of his nickname, securing the last clasp and shutting his locker door.

"Hey, man, what's up?" Kirishima’s voice, as steady as ever, helped to calm some of Bakugou’s nerves.

“I… I need your help,” The words were whispered, Bakugou’s eyes flicking to the side to avoid Krishima’s. When he looked back, Kirishima’s already radiant smile had brightened even further.

“Of course, man, whatever you need!” Kiri knew Bakugou well enough, now, to know how rare such a request was.

Bakugou sighed, taking a moment to figure how to voice what he needed without sounding utterly stupid, before quickly coming to the conclusion that no such solution was possible. He figured the best course of action would be to just say it outright, rip the bandaid off and get it over with.

“I need you to do my eyeliner,” he said, as deadpan as possible, holding up the pencil fisted in his hand. He could feel the heat rising into his cheeks, but he chose to ignore the sensation, a decision helped by the fact Kirishima was clearly suffering from the same effect. His cheeks seemed to be trying to compete with his hair for the brightest shade of red (adorable).

To his credit, Kirishima had little other reaction to the request, he didn’t question a thing before reaching out to take the pencil from his hand. He placed a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder to direct him to a nearby bench. He placed his fingers under Bakugou’s chin, gently tilting him up to look the standing red-head in the eye. Kirishima’s fingers, so soft on his face, felt like fire, warm and comforting, dangerous and enticing, and Bakugou was suddenly all at once very regretful and very glad for his decision to ask Kiri for help. It took every bit of self-control he had to keep his face grumpily impassive.

“Just so you know, man, I haven’t done this in years. It’ll probably look like shit,” he laughed.

Bakugou was grunting in dismissive acknowledgment before he had time to fully process just what Kirishima was implying. I haven’t done this in years. Oh?

“You’ve done this before?”

Kirishima hesitated and flushed slightly, like he had been hoping Bakugou wouldn’t pick up on it.

“Uh, yeah, I wore eyeliner for a while in my second year of junior high.” He placed his hand on Bakugou’s cheekbone, thumbing his eyelid closed and beginning to draw on the liner. “Mina calls it my ‘emo phase’. I guess she’s not wrong.” His tone was light-hearted and clearly embarrassed, a nervous smile splayed across his face that Bakugou just barely caught through his squinted eyes. It was an emotion Bakugou had rarely seen in him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

The next few minutes passed in silence, in which Kiri switched his hand to Bakugou’s brow-bone on the opposite side of his face to complete his work. In the dip in their conversation, the sounds of the world around them faded back in. He hadn’t even realized they had faded out, but he was suddenly very aware that he and Kirishima were still very much in the middle of the boys locker room, and that there were 12 extras who now knew about this particular quirk of his daily routine.

He could hear the murmurs and questioning hums, knowing there were probably more than a few pairs of eyes on them. It should’ve pissed him off, he should be screaming at them to mind their own goddamn business. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to care. The hands on his face and the warm breath against his forehead stubbornly shoved any anger from his being.

Kiri finished the eyeliner and Bakugou pulled his mask from his back pocket. He reached up to fasten it, but firm, calloused hands stopped him. Kiri pulled the mask from him, reaching out to attach it himself. He tied the knot in the back, and rested his hands around Bakugou’s neck. Bakugou is quite sure any and all motor and mental functions have been stolen from him in the wake of this sudden intimacy.

It’s over all too soon when Kirishima pulls away, stepping back and heading towards the door.

“C’mon, man, we’re gonna be late!”

Bakugou, as quickly as possible (which, frankly, isn’t very quick in his current state), reassembles himself before marching out after his friend.

Edit: This is now posted on ao3 and currently has three chapters :)

[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 46

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You try to find your way back.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Angst, anxiety, mild body horror

AO3

You woke up coughing and gagging, pulling your jacket out from under your head to wrap it around your face. For there to be so much dust in the air, another dust storm must have kicked up outside.

Just as predicted, when you looked out one of the air holes of the cave system, you saw the wall of dust that cut off all sight after a few feet.

You sighed and sat back in the deepest part of the cave, making sure to keep the jacket wrapped around your head. It was much different being here as a physical entity instead of just living in someone’s head. You knew which one you preferred.

Still coughing frequently, you picked up a stone tool, no bigger than a piece of chalk, and added another tick to the rows of marks Bucky had started. Tenth day in the demon realm, with no sign of rescue.

It had been sheer luck that you’d woken up in a place with landmarks you actually recognized. You weren’t far from Bucky’s old territory, and after hours of walking barefoot through the sand, socks stuffed into your pockets, you made it to the cave system he’d used as a home base.

Seeing the same walls, the edible fungus, the dried “bamboo” strips as bedding, even the old journal Bucky had left behind, it had been the most relieving and the most painful thing you’d felt in a while. That was saying a lot, considering you’d been murdered just a few hours prior.

Your shelter and source of food and water secured, you’d done nothing but decompress, going over everything that had happened.

Bucky falling into Zemo’s trap. Forced to be a weapon once more and ordered to kill Rogers. He probably would have if you hadn’t managed to pull on the thin thread that had remained of your bond.

The irony wasn’t lost on you. The bond you’d both wanted to get rid of had been the thing to save Bucky’s life. The cursed book had been right; the only thing that could break your bond was Bucky’s death… or yours. It hadn’t said the death would result in you being banished to the demon realm, but it wasn’t like the damn book had been trying to be helpful to begin with.

No, if anything, the ancient sorcerer whose words it had quoted had been more insightful. Especially the part where he’d witnessed a human slave die in his master’s place, and his body had burned to ashes.

Is that what had happened to you? Had Bucky been forced to watch as you’d crumpled to dust in his hands? God, you hoped not.

At least it explained how you ended up here and that corpse you’d seen through Bucky’s eyes. A human with a demon sigil, it could only mean one thing. This was where all human slaves ended up, eventually.

You just hoped you wouldn’t meet the same fate.

Thoughts turned back to Bucky as they usually were, you couldn’t begin to imagine how Bucky was dealing with your death. All you could hope was that he realized it hadn’t been permanent, and that he would find a way to the demon realm without dying himself. Knowing him, Bucky would take that route if he had to.

But here it was, day ten, and you were beginning to have doubts. You knew time flowed differently here and you would have to be patient, but it was impossibly difficult. You just prayed you wouldn’t have to wait another fifty years. Unlike Bucky, you doubted you would remain ageless in this place.

Day ten became day eleven. And then twelve. And then you’d been in the demon realm for two weeks with no sign of Bucky or the wizards.

At day fifteen, you decided it was time to stop waiting, and time to start being proactive. If your rescuers couldn’t come to you, perhaps you could bring yourselves to them. You’d glimpsed the truth in Bucky’s memories after him coming through the portal. Your younger self had practically bragged about opening a portal, and you’d been ten years old.

Surely you could still do it, even if you didn’t remember how… and even though you’d never shown a spark of magic while training under Wong.

But what else was there to do? It wasn’t as if there was anyone else around to embarrass yourself in front of.

Only… that turned out not to be the case.

You had managed to create a spark in the air. It was orange and sputtered after a few seconds, but it was the most you’d ever accomplished before. After a few more hours, you got a glowing circle the size of a hula-hoop.

But it was the wrong color, orange and not blue, and the image you could see through it was just more red sand. You didn’t need to travel across the planet; you needed to get away from it.

Frustrated, you weren’t as aware of your surroundings as you should have been, and that was when the demon attacked. Drooling and growling, it charged at you from over the sands and chased you into the cave system. You recognized it from before; a large beast that looked like it was part-bear, part-bull, and it was pissed.

Terrified and without thought, you made a jerky circular motion just as the demon launched itself at you.

The portal fizzled to life and vanished just as quickly, and the bottom half of a demon body landed on top of you. It was still smoking from where the portal had sliced through it like a hot blade.

It was the first and last time you tried to make a portal.

The days continued to crawl by until a month had passed, or at least, the best you could guess as days and months when the sunlight never changed or faded.

Until it finally did. And that’s when things truly started to take a turn for the worst.

You’d managed to keep your spirits up by reading the journal Bucky had left behind, reliving the time you’d spent together in a weird, symbiotic partnership, but when the rare night came and shrouded everything in cold darkness, you didn’t even have Bucky’s words to comfort you. The jacket was no longer a breathing mask and went back on your shoulders, barely keeping the chill at bay.

Through the dim starlight that came through the overhead holes in the ceiling, you could see your breath fogging up before you. You huddled into a tighter ball, tried to keep your emotions in check, and eventually gave up. You turned your head and sobbed quietly into your arms, letting the despair and fear pour out of you like a flooded dam.

And still it grew colder. You couldn’t remember Bucky being this cold, but then again, he wasn’t fully human. Plus, even though you’d been an observer in his head, you’d been able to raise his body temperature and keep him warm.

Now, all you could do was shiver and stay huddled against the wall that still retained heat from the day. You didn’t want to think about what you’d do when it faded.

Somehow in the night, you’d managed to fall asleep, or maybe fall unconscious. When you stirred, something was… wrong. You shifted your arms and legs and your skin tingled oddly, goosebumps breaking out along your flesh as the sensations felt off, both muffled and heightened at the same time.

You opened your eyes and wished you hadn’t. Instead of the bare skin of your arms… they were covered with grey-blue fur. Smooth, short, and thick, like a cat’s.

The panicked sound you made wasn’t human, and that just made the panic worse. You scrambled across the cave floor and ran to the nearby underground stream. There would be enough light now that the sun had risen for you to see…

Horns.

The face staring back at you was barely your own. Thin fur covered your face entirely, your pupils were no longer round but narrowed into slits, and the horns. They curved from either side of your forehead, several inches in length and grey, like ashy bone.

That wasn’t the only oddity. You turned your head and gasped at the long, pointed ears sticking out from under your hair.

You looked like a strange mixture of part-human, part-demon, part-cat.

This can’t be real. I’m hallucinating. Exposed to the cold, this is just the effect of a dying mind.

Expect, it didn’t go away. Your shock continued to mount as you took stock of the rest of yourself. The same blue-grey fur covered every inch of you. When you flexed your fingers, sharp nails slide outward from the nailbed, strange but natural at the same time.

You weren’t completely cat-like. There were the horns, of course, but when you stretched and felt along the back of your neck, scaly ridges continued all the way down your spine to your—

You jumped when something moved inside your pant leg, and you earned yourself a flare of pain when you slapped it to discover it was a long, puffed up, furry tail.

You startled giggling. The giggling devolved into hysterical laughter, and when that faded, it turned into breathless crying.

Now you knew why you hadn’t frozen to death in the night.

Your curiosity as to what you had become waned along with the days. The anxiety and fear was gone too. Something important had slipped your mind, like a half-forgotten dream, but there was nothing to remember. You had your cave system, your food source, and your territory to defend. There was nothing else you could possibly want.

Even the scorching sunlight no longer bothered you and instead filled you with strength. Your fur protected you from the worse of the sandy wind, and a third eyelid, transparent and able to cover your eye, allowed you to see even in the worst of dust storms. And there was a power that seemed to sustain you, an energy from this place that kept you strong and brimming with a power you didn’t quite understand.

Your body was perfectly suited for this world, and after a while, you couldn’t remember a time when it’d been any different.

Sometimes, you had dreams. Confusing ones, because they were of both a man and a demon. You always woke from these with your chest aching and your vision blurred, but you blinked the moisture away and soon, those were also forgotten.

Most demons knew better than to encroach on your territory, and in turn, you left them to theirs. Any demons foolish enough to ignore your boundaries were easily chased away with your outstretched talons and ripping claws. Once, when a demon that stood twice your size and had the head of a skeletal horse (how did you know that word?) tried to push you out, you conjured a rope of fiery orange. Striking at the beast, you’d left a burn across its back, and it hadn’t returned since.

You were comfortable in your solitude. Barring the strange dreams and the moments when you would wake up, confused into believing something was missing, you were content.

Until the day when a new, strange demon encroached on your territory. Worse than that, he’d wandered into your cave system. You were grooming yourself, tongue licking across the fur on your forearm, when you heard the telltale sounds of feet moving against the stone floor.

You hid in the shadows, eyes narrowed into slits as you waited. It didn’t take long for the intruder to walk directly into your cave, and you were taken aback at its appearance.

It—no, he, the demon was definitely masculine, with broad shoulders and prominent facial features. He seemed human, but the rest of him was not, with a demonic arm, wings, horns, and a tail.

He raised his head and flared his nostrils, testing the air at the same moment you caught a whiff of his scent. It was almost overpowering, heady and male, and your fur puffed up in response. This demon would try to take your home from you, and you wouldn’t allow it. You’d defeated bigger threats than him.

When he turned toward your makeshift nest and bent down to open the journal you no longer took interest in, you crept from your hidden nook. The demon was still crouched, his tail lying flat against the ground, but the tip flicked back and forth.

You drew closer, closer still, completely silent and pointed teeth bared. Bunching your muscles into a tight coil you leapt, claws outstretched.

The demon turned just before you landed.

He grabbed you around the throat, spun in one fluid motion, and slammed you against the cave wall.

You released a yowl and dug your claws into him, but they merely skidded off the shifting plates of his arm, leaving him unmarked.

Pinned with your back to the wall, you were trapped with his claws around your neck. The demon bared his teeth in his own impressive growl, inches from your face. His eyes were a cold sort of fury that made you doubt your chances of survival.

“Where is she!”

He spoke a language you somehow understood. The words had meaning, but you didn’t know what they were, so you remained silent.

When you didn’t answer he leaned forward, fangs sharp and ready to tear open your throat.

“You reek of her, and these are her clothes. Did you—did you kill her?”

You gave him nothing but a growl in your throat. When he squeezed tighter around your neck, you bared your teeth and snarled in hatred.

Just as quickly as it had arrived, his deadly glare vanished. He blinked rapidly, brows furrowed as if trying to put together a puzzle. And then his grip relaxed as something very different crossed over his face.

“No…”

He was distracted, his mind clearly elsewhere, and you wiggled out of his grip and tried to dart past him. The demon immediately seized you from behind, wrapping his arms tightly around you so you couldn’t escape.

You screamed and fought, your feet shoving against the ground for purchase, but with your arms pinned to your sides you couldn’t even conjure the fiery rope to defend yourself.

“Stop, stop, it’s me!” he cried. “It’s Bucky!”

His words were simply noise, and you swiveled your head to bite into his shoulder, this time making sure it was the fleshy one. But he still wouldn’t release you, even as the coppery taste of blood touched your tongue.

He gripped you tighter, and you let go of his shoulder and continued to struggle. He was much larger and stronger than you, and he didn’t move an inch. Instead, something soft touched your hair, and you realized it was one of his hands.

Gathering your strength for one last attempt, you twisted violently in his arms, pulled back your lips and sank your teeth into the junction between neck and shoulder, biting down. You were about to take out a chunk of his flesh when the concentrated aroma of his scent slammed into you.

You released him, licking the blood off your lips, and carefully sniffed higher up his neck. Something pulled at you, something familiar but lost, and you gave a curious lick just below his jawline.

Pine trees, earth, warm stone. He smelled like…

He smelled like…

Home.

You pulled back, staring in horror as blood continued to trickle down his neck.

You knew him. You knew him, how could you forget him, how could you forget—

You tried to say his name, but no words came out. You couldn’t speak. When had you lost the ability to talk?

When had you forgotten Bucky?

“Sweetheart?”

You whimpered at the cautious hope in his voice, at the pet name, at him being here.

Bucky wrapped his arms tighter around you, and you began to lick at the wound you’d caused, an apology and a way to prove he was real and you weren’t imagining this. To force yourself to remember everything you’d almost lost, even as the pain and grief grew worse every second.

Bucky had finally found you.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he apologized, voice choked with tears. “I came as soon as I could… I thought I was too late.”

But he was too late, wasn’t he?

You stopped mid-lick. Your tongue had done a decent job of cleaning his wound, because it wasn’t a human tongue anymore. It was dry and barbed, like a cat’s.

You buried your face into his shoulder, giving another miserable noise. How could you go back home now? You were a monster. A thing made of the demon realm. How could Bucky stand to even look at you, let alone touch you?

When you tried to pull away, he wouldn’t let you. Even his tail was stubbornly wound around your leg now.

“We’re going home,” he said, pulling back just enough to cup your face in his hands. You tried to jerk away, not wanting him to look at you, but he didn’t let you budge an inch. “We are going home.”

His image blurred as your eyes stung. How could he say that when you were… when you…

“It’s okay,” he said when the tears slipped down your furred cheeks. He brushed them away and pressed his lips against your forehead. You sighed and closed your eyes. “You’re okay. I’m not leaving you. This time, for good.”

You wanted to believe him, but how could you when you had the face of the very thing he hated about himself?

As if knowing your thoughts and afraid you would bolt, Bucky kept one arm firmly around your waist. He turned you toward the cave exit that would lead into the tunnels, but you resisted, pointing down to the nest when he looked at you.

Seeing what you were pointing at, a brief flash of fondness and pain crossed his face. He picked up the book, Bucky’s old journal that had documented his days and adventures with the “mysterious voice,” and you grabbed it and held it to your chest. You’d forgotten before, but now you remembered how this book had been your lifeline, and you couldn’t bear to leave it behind.

“Ready?” he asked, voice soft, eyes even softer.

You nodded, leaning into him when he tucked you against his side. Now that you remembered who he was, the thought of not touching him for even a second was unthinkable.

Bucky led you outside, and you spared a single glance backwards at the series of mounds, hills, and boulders that signified there was an underground cave system. It had saved your life, and before that, Bucky’s. It had been your temporary shelter, but it wasn’t where you belonged.

Spreading his wings, Bucky lifted you easily into his arms and leapt into the air. You curled protectively around the journal, but you felt safer now than you had since being captured by Zemo. As the hot, dry air ruffled your hair and fur, a deep rumbling came from inside your chest. It took you a moment to realize you were purring. Indicating he could hear it too, Bucky kissed the top of your head, making your purring even louder.

You kept your eyes closed and pressed to Bucky’s tactical vest until he said, “There it is.”

You turned to look, eyes widening at the sight of a shimmering blue portal near the ground. It looked tiny from this distance, and your stomach churned with nerves.

“Hold on!”

Taking Bucky’s advice, you gripped onto him tightly as he dived. Just before he went through, you shut your eyes tight.

The difference between the demon realm and Earth was a lot more extreme than you remembered filtered through Bucky’s memories. You immediately started shivering, buffeted by the cold air, taking shallow breaths because each one felt like you were breathing ice water.

The colors assaulted your vision—bluebluegreenblue—leaving you whimpering into Bucky’s shoulder, painful after you’d seen nothing but red for so long.

And the smells. No longer diluted with dry air constantly in motion, the salty and perfumed scent of multiple humans, of mildew and stone and ozone that made the tip of your tongue tingle—

It was too much. As soon as Bucky slightly relaxed his hold, you dropped the journal and scrambled behind him, hiding between his wings as you buried your face in the back of his neck.

It was toomuchtoomuchtoomuch—

“Sergeant Barnes, is that… who I think it is?”

The smooth, commanding voice was familiar, but you couldn’t place it. Unlike your recognition of Bucky, everything else was a struggle to recall. You didn’t even know where you were, the domed room unfamiliar and intimidating.

“Yes,” Bucky responded in a low tone.

“Ah, well, that is… unfortunate.” The man who had originally spoken cleared his throat. “We will need to do a thorough examination—“

You had peeked over Bucky’s shoulder to get a better look at the others in the room—they were wizards, weren’t they?—but as soon as one of them drew forward, you gave a spitting snarl.

“Or not,” the man said, raising his hands. He had a goatee and a ridiculous red cape. Your ruffled fur went flat against your skin. Was that… Strange? And next to him, concerned but not without pity, your mentor, Wong.

How could you have forgotten so much? How long had you been gone?

You hid behind Bucky’s shoulder blades, misery forcing your ears to fold back and curl your tail between your legs.

“I’m taking her home,” Bucky said quietly.

“But—“

“No,” he said, more firmly this time. “I’ve been where she is and I know what she needs. She needs to feel safe, somewhere quiet and familiar.”

He waited a beat.

“Are you going to stop me?”

“No.” Strange’s tone was weary but surprisingly relenting. “I’m not. Just make sure you take your next doses with you.”

“I know,” Bucky muttered and then bent down to pick up the journal you’d dropped.

He did it slowly and carefully so as not to dislodge you, because you still half-clung to his back like a lost duckling. It would have been funny if you weren’t already knee-deep in the urge to bolt. Your fur was puffed again, as far as it would go, heart hammering in your chest, and all of your senses were in overdrive as you struggled and failed to adjust to your new environment.

When Bucky straightened up again, you retreated into the sanctum of his folded wings and refused to let go. You couldn’t bear to look around, not when you could sense the wizard’s peering at you, at the freakish thing you’d become. Just the thought of it provoked a whine from your throat.

“One of you mind making a portal?” Bucky said dryly. “The sun’s still up and we’re obviously not taking a cab.”

You heard footsteps shuffling against the stones, and you clung tighter to Bucky. He reached back and put a hand on your leg, reassuring you he wasn’t leaving. Your trembling subsided slightly, but every muscle of your body was still taut enough to snap.

When he stepped forward, you went with him, keeping your eyes shut until you felt the familiar but unsettling shift of space as you stepped through a portal. Only when it fizzled out behind you and you caught the comforting scent of Bucky’s penthouse did you open your eyes.

You thought by “home” he would take you back to your room at the Sanctum. Instead, you were standing in the middle of Bucky’s loft.

Before Bucky could say or do anything, you buried your face in his jacket and released everything you’d kept buried, your soft keening echoing inside the old clock tower.

Next Chapter

[cher-writes]

Aphrodisiac | Vladek Klimov X Reader (18+)

Read part 1

Word count: 4.5k

CW: NSFW, Drugs, Blood, Self inflicted wound, Choking, Ritualistic sex

A/N: This one is a wild one, people. Read the warnings carefully and skip this one if you don't feel like it. Reader discretion is advised. 

When you woke up, he was gone. The emptiness beside you sank into your skin and turned into a bottomless pit in your stomach. You slowly sat up and looked at the lonely clock ticking on your wall, 12pm. Orgasm induced sleep was always one of your greatest sedatives, but straight six hours after a night full of sleep? That was a bit too long. But after last evening and this morning, you couldn’t blame your body either. You wondered if you dreamt it all but the blood stains on your sheets told you otherwise. You lowered your nose and inhaled deeply, it smelt like him.

Ever since that day melancholy stained your whole existence. You had Vladek out of nowhere, in all that he is, but just as quickly he might as well have vanished from existence. The memory of him smiling softly and stroking your cheeks with his thumb before leaving you, came back to you afterwards. You were confused about whether or not you were imagining it to make yourself feel better. You wanted to be angry at him for leaving you without saying anything, but all you could feel was sad and empty. It was undeniable that you wanted him, more than you’ve ever wanted anyone or anything. Night after night you laid awake in your tub or the couch, thinking of him. There was a void in your heart, as if you’ve lost someone you’ve known for centuries. The pain was so intense that the ridiculousness of the situation didn’t quite register in your mind. He left you a mess in his wake. It felt at times, he took half of your heart with him. Everywhere you went, your eyes looked for him and before long, they found him.

You were sitting at the local restaurant that day, having breakfast as you didn’t feel like cooking. Well, more like fiddling with the food as your appetite was more or less dead ever since then. You were looking out of the window distractedly but your reverie broke when the waiter came by to offer you more coffee. After declining him,you were getting ready to jump right back into your woolgathering but something caught your eyes. It had become a second nature for you at that point to look for him, and at first you didn’t believe your eyes, after all you had been more or less delirious ever since he left you. But sitting a few tables in front of you, it was unmistakably that coat which you helped him out of that fateful evening. Those curls, you’d recognise them anywhere, you could almost feel those at your fingertips. Without a doubt it was him, you were taken aback by how quickly you recognised his back since all of this happened in the matter of a few milliseconds. He was talking to a town cop. You felt blood rush to the back of your neck as he soon got up, all the fervid memories from that morning flooding your mind. He turned around to leave and as he was walking by, he caught you in his gaze. He halted and smiled at you softly. By that point your brain had stopped working but for some reason your body decided to stand up abruptly, so quick that you almost knocked over the plate of food on the table. You walked up to him and stood inches away from his chest, your face completely blank. “Hey” he said with that heavy accent and ever so calm voice. “Hey um why did you leave without telling me?” you practically blurted out, voice shaking and breathless. He raised his brows slightly and said “Can we talk outside? In private?”. Your brain was a puddle at this point but you nodded quickly, somehow. Vladek flashed you another gentle smile and gestured to follow him.

You had been walking in silence for a while when he took a sharp turn into a dark desolate alley.

Being obsessed over a man you've known for less than 24 hours in total, was one thing but following him into dark alleys was a whole 'nother ball game! Even in your passionate malady you understood that fact but you just couldn’t stop yourself. His magnetic field pulled you in and like a lemming, followed his trail. When he stopped, you almost bumped into him but saved yourself from the embarrassment at the last moment. “Sorry i left that day without telling you” Vladek spoke up as he looked into your eyes, “I needed to be somewhere, it was urgent and i didn’t wanna wake you up. You look so pretty when you’re asleep”. It infuriated you how vague he always was. What did he mean exactly by ‘needed to be somewhere’? But you didn’t have it in you to ask him anything further. It was just like if God appeared in front of you out of nowhere in all his splendor, you wouldn’t be able to ask why he made things the way that he did. Besides him calling you pretty, basically killed every ounce of objection you had against him. “Oh. I see. I’m sorry i, um, i shouldn’t have lashed out like that” you meekly said in return. “It’s okay, (Y/N). It’s not your fault” he said and indeed it wasn’t your fault. He had this strange effect on you that made you do things you had no control over. He was staring at your eyes, breaking the eye contact once to look down at your lips and back to staring again. It was chilling cold outside and the tension between the two of you was agonizing. You could feel his warm breath on your face. You were inching closer, wanting to seize the opportunity and bask your lips in the heat of his lips. But he spoke up and jolted you back to your senses again, “Will you, em, help me with something?”. And at that moment if he asked you to jump off a cliff, you would.

You were walking in circles around the mattress which laid in the middle of your living room. You did as you were told. You were taking deep breaths, trying to control your breathing but you could practically hear your heart, beat out of your chest. You didn’t quite remember what exactly he explained, you couldn’t pay attention. All you heard was “ritual” and “sex”.

But like a diligent student you mentally noted down the few instructions that he gave- put a mattress on an empty floor, do not ingest any substance and wait. He said he’d arrive as soon as the sun went down on the new moon evening. It was quite cold inside due to your damn heater malfunctioning but you were on the brink of sweating as you stared at your front door in anticipation and before long, you could hear knocks.

When you opened the door, cold wind washed over your body but you didn’t feel a thing. Vladek was standing there in his mask and glasses and for a split second all the murder and the rumors flashed through your mind. Yet you weren’t afraid, cause you believed, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was there to save you and the town. You stepped to the side to let him in. As soon as he was inside you closed the door and awkwardly stood leaning against the door frame.

He promptly took off this mask and his coat. One look at that face and your heart was racing at a thousand miles per hour again. “Hey (Y/N)” he said, his face unreadable. You greeted him in return. 

-“Do you mind if we start right now?”

- “No, no. Not at all”

He nodded and then crouched over the bag that he brought with him. There was a silent rush in his movements. After a little bit of rifling through, he pulled out a small bottle. 

He walked up to you with the bottle in his hand, you could feel the air getting heavier. The bottle was clear and you could make out some sort of an oil inside. “I need you to anoint yourself with this before you cleanse yourself”, his voice was quite raspy. His fingers brushed against yours as you took the bottle from his hands and your skin burned at thiat slight contact. “What type of water?” you almost whispered. He raised his brows slightly at your question, the corner of his mouth curled up a bit as he said “huh?”. “Do i use cold water or warm water? Do I take a bath or a shower? Also do i-” you were rambling on when he chuckled and said “okay okay (Y/N), calm down. Just wash your body in any water, however you want. If anything specific is to be done i’ll tell you, yeah?”. You nodded meekly. You were beyond nervous and you felt detached from your body. But when you looked at him, all you wanted to do was to touch his face and then maybe throw him against the wall. But you couldn’t do that, not yet. So you collected all your thoughts and yourself then made your way to the bathroom.      

When you were done taking a shower, your body felt more relaxed. All the tension built in your muscles for the past couple hours, no- past couple of days, washed away with the warm water. Although was that because of the warm water or the fact that he was waiting for you in the living room, was debatable. Your body smelt of strange wild flowers from the oil. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you were on your way.

You were deliberately walking slow. With every step that you took, your heartbeat started going up again. The reality of the situation was just setting in, you were about to participate in some sort of a sex ritual with vladek. The thought in itself sent shivers down your core. You were contemplating turning around and running out the back door when your feet finally arrived at the entrance of your living room. Your breath hitched and you stopped in your tracks when you saw him standing there in white pajama pants. The room was dark, there were candles circling the mattress. A skull decorated with blood red fathears sat facing the mattress. A knife rested by the side of the mattress. The warm yellow glow of the candles reflected off his smooth body as he turned around, a chalice in his hands. He looked ethereal and adrenaline rushed your body. Whether out of fear or lust, you didn’t know.

Vladek walked up to you, took a sip from the chalice and then handed it to you, “here, drink this”. And you did without much hesitation. It tasted quite bitter and you wondered how easily he could poison you. And as if he could read your mind he said, “Don’t worry, i’m not poisoning you. It’s an aphrodisiac mixed with mild relaxants”. His presence in itself was anesthetic for you and his voice more of an aphrodisiac than any substance will ever be. He took the chalice from your hands and put it on the floor. As you watched him you thought to yourself how cruel he was for using you like this even if it was for saving the town. At this point you didn't worry about the town or your own life, he could stab you with that knife for all you cared. He was cruel for using your infatuation and you'd be damned for eternity if you said you didn't relish every moment of it. “Is there anything you want to ask me (Y/N)?” he said in a mellow voice.

-“Why do this ritual?”

-“To save fortitude”

-“But how does this help?”

-“You see, only a woman is the most wise and powerful, feared by all. Loved by all the shamans.The knowledge of good and evil is tied at its root to sexuality and it is only through the height of orgasm that Gnosis can be achieved. And when the woman orgasms the veil between the worlds collapses and communicating with them is possible. I need to talk to them and ask for strength for what i need to do next”    

You wanted to ask him what it all meant. What was gnosis, who are “they” and how the fuck could you possibly collapse the veil but again, you didn’t have it in you to ask him more than two things at a time. “Are you sure you want to do this? (Y?N), I want you to know that this is only for spiritual purposes and you can say no now or at any time during the ritual if you want to. I need you to be fully willing”, the softness in Vladek’s voice was hurting you this point. You nodded a yes quickly. You two then stood in silence staring at each other for what seemed like a lifetime to you until he extended his right hand to you. You figured he was asking you to disrobe. You unraveled the towel and handed it to him which he swiftly discarded. You were completely naked under his stare yet you didn’t feel a hint of embarrassment, there was something so sacramental in the ambience or maybe it was just the drugs. “Okay step in the circle carefully” he said and you complied. “Now get down on your knees over the mattress”, you obeyed like your life depended on it and sat facing him. He picked up sage from his bag and lit it. Soon the room was filled with smoke, you could barely see anything. He was going around you in circles, occasionally bringing the sage so close that you could feel its heat on your skin, all while chanting something. His movements were ceremonial. Then he stopped, laid the still burning sage on the chalice and stepped in the circle, murmuring through out. You were unnaturally calm for your nature, your heart was beating in a soothing rhythm. When you looked up, he was standing, towering over you. In the heavy fragrant smoke and dull candle lights his frame looked celestial, you couldn’t quite make out his eyes. He then slowly lowered himself until he was on his knees too, eye to eye with you. The close proximity to him kicked something in you and adrenaline flooded you once again. He reached to your side and grabbed the knife. Vladek was looking directly into your eyes, his stare supernatural, as he slashed a bit over his collarbone. Blood oozed out and then started dripping down his chest, soaking his white pants. Your jaw dropped at this sight, yet he didn’t move a muscle. He closed his eyes and uttered something then proceeded to draw symbols in some ancient language on his chest with the blood. When he was done he opened his eyes and said “trace these glyphs with your tongue”, his voice was commanding yet tender. It was getting hard for you to keep your thoughts together so you did as you were told.

You started at the top, he hissed slightly when you licked the wound. The coppery taste of the blood and his warm skin were creating a sensation in your tongue you had never felt before. His silky smooth chest rose up and down slowly while you were tracing all the strange symbols. When you were done you sat back waiting for the next instruction. Instead he cupped your face and wiped the blood from your lips with his thumbs. At that exact moment you understood what was wrong with you since the day you met him; He put a spell on you by his beauty then cursed you by his touch. Your head was rattling like crazy. He pushed you back gently until you were lying half down, supported by your elbows. Vladek climbed on top of you like a serpent. You were feeling dizzy, your eyes felt too heavy to blink. What snapped you out of it was his voice against your ears, your own flavor of aphrodisiac. He was chanting something, you didn't understand what he was saying whether it was because of the language or the drugs you couldn't possibly comprehend at that point. He started going down; ghosting his lips over your neck, nape, collarbones, chest, stomach, chanting some crude ancient hymn. You would kill at that point to have his lips on your skin but he carefully kept just enough of a distance that you could feel his sultry breath burning holes on your skin but not the touch of his delicate lips

You were wanting and waiting for even the slightest bit of contact when whatever “they” he talked about, answered your prayers. Vladek slipped his left hand under you and started laying you down further as he caressed your stomach with his right hand, kindly pushing until you were lying completely flat against his hand on your lower back. Your breath jerked when you felt his warm hands spreading your thighs. Even the drugs this time couldn’t stop the white hot rush that rose from embarrassment and submerged your whole existence. You were trying to take deep breaths and calm yourself down, reminding yourself that what was happening was purely spiritual yet the intrinsic responses of your body held other beliefs. As you were trying to hobble your heart, you felt his fervid lips on your cunt and electricity shot through your spine straight into your brain. For a moment you felt like your brain would melt into a liquid.

Vladek’s warm tongue glided up and down, making your body quiver at every small movement. You weren’t sure if your heart even existed at this point, either it stopped beating or was beating so fast it didn’t register in your brain. You felt your core tightening, almost on the brink of a collapse. Your breathing was becoming shallow and irregular, you were waiting for the bliss when he suddenly stopped. You’d whine and ask him why if your body didn’t feel like it was under a thousand miles of water. He slowly sat up and said “Get up”. Not a bone in your body felt like they were solid enough to support you. He probably sensed something and helped you get up. You were swaying mildly from the lightheadedness, rubbing your thighs together coyly to relief yourself from the edge and the aching that consumed you. He grabbed your arms firmly and gave you a quick shake to steady you, and it worked, as much as it was possible for a high, aroused woman on the edge of an orgasm, to sit still. Vladek reached for that knife again, and you wondered if he’d slash your throat this time as a sacrifice or something, not that you would be able to run right then even if you wanted to and you didn’t either. You’d happily die by the hands of a man like him. As your questionable morbid thoughts ran, he held the knife right in front of your face. “Cut your right index finger on this”, his honey like accent made that sound much more appealing than it actually was. You’d raise your brows if you could feel them. You were sure it wasn’t you who lifted that finger and slid it across the knife, your brain wasn’t controlling your body anymore. Blood started dipping down your hand, yet you didn’t feel any pain, again probably the drugs. He grabbed your hand with his right hand, you tried but couldn’t anticipate where it was going until he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. He put your finger on his tongue and drew some symbols again. His warm tongue was fluttering ever so slightly under your touch and you wanted to grab his face and slam him against the floor, crashing your mouth into his, but, not yet. 

After drawing the symbols, Vladek licked your wound to stop the bleeding and when he let your finger go you very quickly started missing the warmth of his mouth. His lips were glimmering from your fluids in the flickering yellow lights and you decided to keep this memory in the depth of your, probably not beating anymore, heart. You were pretty sure you were thinking in slow motion because when you were done thinking that, you were lying on your back again somehow. And just as soon, his soft tongue was back on your cunt again, only this time it was circling your clit in languid motions. It was almost as if he picked up where he left cause your body was just as quickly on the ledge again. It was getting difficult to breathe with every passing moment. You tried really hard but you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, it took you a bit of an effort but you slid your fingers in his lush curls, holding onto them for dear life. His mouth worked skillfully on you, licking, sucking, driving you to the point of madness. You were almost there and as if afraid that he’ll stop again, you thrust your hips upwards which resulted in his nose pressing at just the right angle, resulting in your orgasm to push you down a cliff into a valley of pure bliss. You moaned out and shuddered vehemently as you rode through it. It was unlike any other orgasm you ever had. The room felt like it was crumbling down, the atmosphere falling apart. You couldn’t even feel his presence anymore. The candles burnt brightly and It was just you, violent euphoria within you and euphoric violence outside of you. Your back arched up, your head on the brink of snapping from your neck. You opened your eyes and it met with the hollow caters of the skull. A bright light flashed before you and you passed out.

When you came back, you were lying perfectly still. Your head was clear as a summer sky, your body felt like you had just come out of an ice cold bath. Which was weird considering the experience you just had was only comparable to a volcanic rapture. You felt vitalized, as if you’ve been sleeping for a few decades. You sat up quickly to find Vladek sitting crossed legged facing you, eyes closed and praying. You tried to cover yourself with your hands, feeling awfully naked. The candles were burnt almost to the ground, the air now mostly clear of smoke. He opened his eyes slowly and smiled at you softly. “How are you feeling?” he said in his gentle voice. “Good, feeling good, great um are we done?” you said abruptly. “Yes, yes we are” he replied and then got up. He quickly mumbled something and went out of the circle. He picked up the towel and handed it over to you which you promptly wrapped around yourself. You got out of the circle, standing awkwardly besides him. “Did it, um, work?” you said, trying to cut the uncomfortable silence.

-“Yes it did, thank you”

-“No problem”

-“I’ll clean all of this, don't worry, you can go to sleep if you want to. It’s a bit late”

-“I’m not tired”

-“I see”

-“I’m sorry by the way, for um, grabbing your hair back then impromptu”

-“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it”

-“Are you gonna leave afterwards?”

-“I do have things i need to tend to”

-“Oh. Okay”

You two nodded at each other like workplace colleagues who barely know each other. Which was unnerving for you, considering what just went down. The idea of him leaving made your heart ache, which was surprisingly still beating. If it was up to you, you’d chain him to your bed and never let him go but you were too young to be known as the town’s freak criminal. You wanted to say something, ask him to stay but could barely think about the concept of words. You awkwardly grabbed his wrist, surprisingly slow in your action. He looked down at his wrist then back at you again with amused but questioning eyes. 

You were trying to gather all your thoughts, trying to say something, anything when Vladek spoke up, “Do you want me to stay?”. “Yes”, you answered a bit too avidly. Suddenly there was razor sharp tension in the air you both shared. You blinked and the next moment you were on your toes, cupping his face and forcing your tongue down his mouth. His hands lingered on the small of you back as he lowered himself to kiss you back. You were trying to devour him as you bit his lips, drawing a groan from him. Soon you were up against the wall as he was leaving marks all over your body. The ceremonial energy was nowhere to be seen in his being anymore and at that point he was indistinguishable from a wild animal. Your eyes met with his, both panting, bare chest to chest, there was instinctual longing in the way he looked at you. You reached down to feel his hard cock over his pants, stroking roughly making him grunt in response. “I want you, inside of me, like right now” you managed to blurt out and with that you were pinned on the couch. His tongue colliding with yours, your hands tugging at his silky curls. You were lost in the kiss when you felt him inside of you, stretching you out. You gasped in his mouth and he chuckled softly. But soon he was in rhythm, rough yet kind in his thrusts. Your nails were digging deep in his back. You could feel your orgasm building up again so you flipped him and got on top. Riding him to your heart’s content as he watched you in awe, your right hand wrapping his neck and the left one clutching his shoulder for support. You could feel his muffled groan under your palm. When you came you were looking directly into his eyes, moaning his name, your hands clenching a bit too intensely that you intended. As your high slowly calmed down you loosened your grip. Still thrusting sloppily trying to make it last as long as you could, when you felt him come inside of you. His chest rose as he kissed you through it. Soon after you were lying by his side. You wanted to rest your head on his chest, tell him that you liked him. But it was ridiculous to say that to someone you’ve known for such a little time. It was him who reached out and intertwined his fingers with yours, which took you by surprise. He was smiling softly at you. Vladek was shining like a god in the afterglow, he smelt divine and it pained you to fathom him not being with you for eternity. “Will you wake me up before you leave tomorrow morning?”, you almost choked while saying that.

“I wouldn’t dare to do otherwise.”

But you didn’t really want to wake up the next day. This was as close to heaven as you’d get and you wanted it to last forever. As you were falling asleep you decided to chain him to your bed if you woke up, pandemonium could swallow the town for all you cared.       

[amlovelies]

Addie

Part 1 of 3: Hunger

pairing: vexx serif/f!traveler (Adonia) ratings/warning: mature-some light spice. angst words: 2.2 k a/n: parts 2 and 3 are written I’m just editing them. this is very self indulgent and my first time writing for a6 so please be gentle 💜 

this is a prequel fic set right after the flashback scene in chapter 3. spoilers for chapter 5

read on ao3

               Adonia’s heart is pounding as they round the corner and slide into yet another of the hidden passageways which traverse the palace walls and grounds. She isn’t sure if the guards figured out the entrance behind the tapestry or not, but they wouldn’t be so lucky twice.

               She slumps against the cold stone wall of the passageway. A laugh threatens to bubble up and burst out of her chest. She can’t remember a time when she’s felt so alive. The whole night feels like a dream, a wonderful dream, and she never would have experienced it if it wasn’t for Vexx.

               She never would have been brave enough, or reckless enough to attend if it wasn’t for him. She’d gotten so used to just creeping through the empty halls and watching others’ lives unfold from the shadows.

               Her heart swells as she looks at him. He’s hard to see in the dim light, especially with his ear pressed up against the false wall listening for any sound of pursuit. Not that she needs to see him to picture his face. His green eyes shining with mischief behind his simple black domino mask and his hair in messy tangles after an evening of dancing and leading his fellow guards on a merry chase.

               “It looks like we lost them,” he says as he turns to face her. He dips into a deep bow before rising and offering her his arm, “shall we promenade your highness?”

               “But of course, my dear sir,” she says with an extravagant curtsy as if they are still in the center of the great hall before a gaggle of assorted nobles rather than in a cramped cobwebbed passage with only the spiders to observe them.

               Adonia slips her arm into his with a giggle and he takes the opportunity to pull her closer and place a brief kiss on her cheek. It’s enough to make her heart skip a beat. It’s almost too easy for him to effect it.

               They set a slow and leisurely pace along the passageway. Neither of them seems to be in any hurry to reach the other side. Their steps are soft, but still echo in the confined spaces. They don’t speak. There’s no need, and besides they’d rather not alert any one to their presence in the walls.  

               When they reach the end, Adonia hesitates before stepping into the moonlit gardens. Even the familiar paths feel more magical tonight, the white blossoms glowing as if lit from within. The air is sweet with their fragrance and she can still hear the music from the party. It is faint, but she can still pick up the melody. She lingers at the edges unwilling to step onto the manicured path. It’s one step closer to this night ending, and if she could, she would stretch this moment out forever.

               Vexx tugs on her hand, “don’t expect me to carry you. I told you not to wear those shoes, besides it’s not much further.” He gestures with a toss of his head to where her rooms lay just across the way.

               “It’s not that,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “Thank you for tonight, Vexx. I don’t know if I ever had so much fun.”

               “Not even watching those street performers last month?”

               “Not even then,” she answers with a smile.

               They’d stayed out later than usual that night. Both unwilling to return to the confines of the palace and their assigned roles. It was so much easier to be Addie than to be the Princess Adonia Selene Peg’asi.  The performers had been fascinating and delightful, but what Adonia remembers more is the way that Vexx kissed her when they finally maneuver through the patrolling guards and found themselves in the familiar darkness of the passageway.

               He’d never kissed her like that before, always so careful. Hands on her waist or cupping her face. His kisses soft and tender, never pushing, but that night he had pressed himself against her, his hand tangling in her hair and pressing her back against the wall of the tunnel. She remembers in perfect clarity the shock of his hand delving under her shirt and running over the bare skin of her back.

               It’s not that Adonia is oblivious about sex. When you spend a good part of your free time creeping through abandoned halls you come across some pretty interesting scenes. She remembers a few years ago when she happened across a pair of guards tucked into a corner. She had fled from their soft moans and whimpers a profound feeling of embarrassment overwhelming her normally curious nature.

               She hadn’t been able to run from the way that kiss had made her feel. In the month since there had been a hunger to their kisses that hadn’t been there before.

               “It doesn’t have to end so soon,” Vexx says and Adonia’s skin heats at the way his eyes trace over her body, linger on the curve of her breast, and finally fixate on her lips. “We can still hear the music, how about one more dance?”

               This dance feels different from the ones they’d shared in the ballroom. There it was all fun and laughter, but this feels heavy and wanting. When his hand drifts lower on her back it feels like a question, one she isn’t sure she knows the answer to, but she wants to find out.

               He hums as they spin in the garden pulling her much closer than propriety would allow in the crowded ballroom, even for an anonymous masked couple.

               “I didn’t know you were musical, Vexx,” she teases. “What other secrets are you keeping from me?”

               His steps falter and she almost loses her balance from the jarring movement, “there was a rock,” he mumbles by way of explanation. They find their rhythm again quickly this time without any humming from Vexx.

               Even this attempt at elongating the night comes to an end and they stand in front of her bedchamber door.

               “Good night, Addie.” He drops a brief kiss to the edge of her lips and begins to walk away back toward the barracks.

               “Wait,” she says the word a little too loud for the quiet hallway.

                “I could use some help,” her voice shakes but she swallows down the nerves that threaten to overwhelm her. “With the dress, I mean.” She turns to show the long line of buttons lining the back.

               She’s thought about it for weeks. Lain awake and imagined his lips and the feel of his bares skin under her hands. They have already thrown caution to the wind tonight, so why not this?

               Her face burns as she waits for his response. His hand reaches out and his finger runs down the line of her spine along the neat row of buttons sending a shiver through her body.

               She can’t read the expression on his face, and she can’t bear to wait for his response. She leaves the door open behind her as she enters her room and crosses to turn on the small lamp beside her bed.

               She hears the door click shut behind her and her breath stops until she hears his footsteps approaching her. Her heart is beating so loud, he can probably hear it. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands or her arms or any part of her, so she just stands at the edge of her bed waiting.

               He doesn’t touch the buttons, but instead reaches up to untie the mask covering the top half of her face. Her hands shake as she removes it, but she’s at least happy to have something to do with them.          

               His hands sweep her hair out of the way before placing a soft kiss to the side of her neck. A small whispered gasp of surprise escapes her lips and she feels more than hears the soft chuckle that escapes him.

               His nimble fingers make quick work of the buttons as his lips ghost over her neck. She can feel each kiss like a brand on her skin.

               He reaches the end of the buttons. She swears that, even though they aren’t touching, she can feel the heat of his body on the exposed skin of her back. She thought she would feel more afraid right now, and she does, but more than anything she feels an excitement coursing through her veins.

               She turns to face him and lets the dress drop. It flares out around her as it falls like the petals of a gigantic flower.

               “You’re so very beautiful, Addie.” The words hold none of Vexx’s usual snark. His eyes trace over her face his hand skimming down the column of her throat and dancing lightly along the edge of her breasts.

                Perhaps she should feel bashful, feel nervous and exposed under his gaze, but all Adonia feels is breathless. She could spend forever under his gaze; she hopes she will.

               He still has his mask on. She reaches out and gently removes it from his face. His green eyes are darkened by desire. Desire for her. It’s a heady and new feeling and causes warmth to pool in the pit of her stomach.

               “I am yours. You have to know that,” she says answering his question from earlier in the night.

               She’d been his since that day he took her hand and led her out into the city streets. She’d been his since he called her Addie and looked at her like a real person.

               The kiss starts gentle. Vexx is tentative, but she is done with being tentative.  Adonia wraps her arms around his neck and parts her lips with a sigh, inventing him to deepen the kiss, inviting him to take her breath away. With a groan he pulls her body flush against him. One palm is firm on her lower back keeping her pressed against him while the other hand roams over the bare skin of her waist.  

               She feels dizzy like she forgot to spot. She is already spinning; it’s too late now. Perhaps she should be afraid, but with his arms firm around her Adonia feels safe. He will not let her fall. Her Vexx would never let anything happen to her.

               He walks them backward until she feels the edge of her bed pressing against the edge of her legs.

               “Are you sure?” he asks as he breaks the kiss his eyes searching hers.

                “yes. I’m sure,” she responds. And she is. She wants this; she wants him. She wants to feel his body against hers and lose herself in his arms.

               His next kiss is hungry. Hungrier than any of the stolen kisses they have ever shared. He pushes her back onto the mattress and then he is hovering over her, his hands skimming along her waist gripping her thigh, pulling them closer together. His lips leave hers to kiss down her neck. Trailing over the thin gill scars. Her hands knot in his red hair.

               It’s as if he is everywhere. She feels consumed by him; His name leaves her lips in a soft moan. Her heart is swelling, overflowing, overcome with love. She loves him.  

               “I lo-“ she begins as their eyes meet, but something she sees there makes her pause. Where only a moment ago there was nothing but desire in his eyes something else clouds his expression. He leans forward to press his forehead against hers.

               “Addie,” he whispers before kissing her. This kiss is soft, a gentle press of their lips against each other. The heat that was there only a moment ago is gone, replaced by something stiff and distant.

               “Adonia,” he says as he pushes himself off the bed and into a standing position. A chill runs through her as the cool night air fills the space he had just occupied.

               “It’s late, you should get some rest Princess,” his voice isn’t cold per say, but formal. The way he would address her in a room filled with other people.

               Adonia’s heart plummets and she feels a sinking pit of dread in her stomach. Had she pushed too far? Was this not something he wanted to?

               “Is something wrong?” she hates how pitiful her voice sounds. “Is this not what you want?”

               “No, it’s not that!” he answers stepping towards her as if he wishes to reassure, but pulling back before he touches her.  “It’s been a long night. I don’t want it to be one you regret, Princess.”

               There it is that Princess again. He hasn’t called her princess in private for months. He rarely even calls her Adonia anymore. She’s always Addie with him. She’s only Addie with him.  

               Words die on her lips as she takes in the firm set of his shoulders and the grim line of his lips. Lips which only minutes ago had been blazing a path over her skin. It doesn’t matter that she’s thought about this a hundred times. He’s made up his mind, and to admit that now would only leave her more embarrassed than she already is.

               He spares her any need to respond. She can feel the tears rising up in her eyes and she tries to blink them away. What had gone wrong?

               “Goodnight,” he says before slipping out her door.

tagging: @alavidzes @pearlsandsteel and @roses-and-roo

[lluvguts]

dog-ears, or bookmarks? // reddie

pairing: kid! richie tozier / eddie kaspbrak

warnings/genre: purely fluff! lots of (wholesome) pining!

word count: 1894

summary: A reddie library meet cute

Ten year old Eddie Kaspbrak clutched his mother’s sweaty hand as they ascended the stairs in the Derry Public Library. He could smell her floral perfume as they went, rolling off her in stifling waves to mask the stains of sweat on her sheer dress. Eddie counted the steps, each one closer toward the kid’s section of the library and further from that stinky perfume. It reminded him of the mornings Eddie had to stand by his mother’s bedside, holding his nose as the whole room reeked of grandmothers and mildewy furniture, to take his medicine.

His mother stopped mid-climb to fix her eyes on Eddie’s wrinkled nose and shortened breaths.

“Are you alright dear?” She asked.

Eddie nodded and ducked away from her coddling hands, reaching to feel his pulse and ensure he still had his inhaler.

“I’m fine, Mommy,” Eddie whined, wiping his streaming eyes. “Do you have your library card?”

She straightened up and wiped her damp hands along the front of her chest. “Of course I do, Eddie dear. You know the rules, you get to look for one approved book while I sit and read.”

“Yes Mommy,” Eddie murmured as they reached the second floor and took in the rows and rows of bookshelves and children’s painted tables. Eddie could hardly contain his excitement. The library was one of his favorite places to go―it was quiet, orderly, and smelled clean most of the time. It was the only place Eddie could slip into the old pages of a book as his regular self and close them, a new person. A detective, a brave knight, a dragon, anything but the delicate little boy he really was. Eddie didn’t think being so soft was fair at all―even if his mother believed that a boy did not need a magnifying glass, a suit of armor, or the ability to breathe fire to get through life safely.

His mother patted his shoulder. “Now Eddie, I’ll be over here by the coloring tables. When you find a book, bring it to me so I can check it for you.”

Eddie groaned internally as he padded away from her clammy grip. She hardly let him pick out books he liked, her “book checks'' were always: “That one looks a bit scary, Eddie dear,” Or “Heavens, of course not! Don’t you see that ghost on the front? I don’t want to start giving my Eddie nightmares now.”

But maybe this time it would be different. And maybe, just maybe, he’d find a good book to read―or even better: some company.

Eddie realized with a thudding chest as he walked, it was different. He’d headed straight for the kid’s section typically filled with the horror books when a shoe poking out from the two bookcases stopped him. The sneaker was attached to a leg, attached to a skinny boy sprawled out on his back with a book inches from his pale face. Scattered around him were stacks of paperbacks, and Eddie hovered over his lanky frame with a slight grin. The boy was reading the Goosebumps books.

“I haven’t read that one,” Eddie whispered, crouching down between the shelves so his mother wouldn’t see. He pointed at the book in the boy’s hands, and that was when Eddie could see his face. Clunky glasses framed his deep brown eyes, and a mess of blackish brown hair hung just below his eyebrows. When Eddie met his sly glance, magnified behind his glasses, both boys broke out in childish grins.

“The Werewolf of Fever Swamp? It’s a classic,” The boy stated. He staggered upright, adjusting his frames, then stuck out his arm. Eddie blinked at the boy’s hand, fascinated as some of his fingers were decorated in Spiderman Band-Aids and his wrist was covered in Rainbow Loom bracelets.

The dark-haired boy frowned, as if he were truly hurt by Eddie’s hesitation. “You’re supposed to shake my hand.”

“Oh.” Was all Eddie could muster. He slipped his hand into the other boy’s and they shook like esteemed gentlemen. His palms weren’t sweaty and flushed like Eddie’s mother’s, but thin and soft in all the right places. It made a weird feeling buzz around in Eddie’s stomach, like he was about to throw up a swarm of butterflies.

“My name’s Richie.”

Eddie liked the sound of his name. He liked the way Richie said it, being able to see his teeth when he whispered. Richie, Richie, Richie.

“I’m Eddie,” He murmured back, scooting aside one of the piles of Goosebumps books to make room.

“Eddie.” Richie tried the word, as if it were a new piece of candy on his tongue.

Eddie noticed that Richie’s copy of The Werewolf of Fever Swamp had been closed before he could mark his place. With a little burst of pride Eddie turned to his fanny pack―the very one his mother would not let him out of the house without―for the bookmarks he had made. Himself. It was something Eddie enjoyed doing, when his mother was not nagging him on his vitamins or forcing him to sit through reruns of Wheel of Fortune.

Eddie thumbed through the few bookmarks he’d brought, hoping Richie would like the one he’d drawn a Stormtrooper on.

“Here,” He started, handing over the taped up strip of paper. “You didn’t save your spot.”

Richie stared at Eddie’s bookmark with a pink face then shook his head. “Nah, that’s okay, Eds. I don't use bookmarks.” He whispered quickly.

“Then what do you use?” Eddie asked, growing worried that Richie did use bookmarks, just not ones from delicate little strangers at the library. Eddie thought he was tough, tough enough to use the grown up scissors by himself and not get cut. Maybe Richie would see he wasn’t as weak as the kids at the play yard thought he was.

He whispered it like a delicious secret between them. “Just fold the sides here, y’see?” Richie held up the book, and sure enough, a dog-eared corner showed his last page. “I’m gonna keep reading. Do you want me to, uh, read out loud?”

Read out loud? No one had ever offered Eddie to read with them. Most of the time he read his books alone, with the stuffed animals on the tops of the shelves as his only friends. Those butterflies came fluttering back inside Eddie’s body, but this time they nuzzled hot into his lungs so all he did was nod hurriedly, afraid they’d spill out.

Richie grinned again and shuffled over to Eddie’s side, leaning against a bookshelf. He propped the book on his knobby knees and began where he’d left off.

As he read Eddie became transfixed by the soft, boyish timbre of Richie’s voice, no longer listening to the story but to the short catch of breath as he whispered each eerie sentence.

He craned his neck closer toward Richie’s shoulder to see the pages for himself, and was met with the smell of bubblegum coming from Richie’s lips. Eddie’s eyes glanced briefly at them, more interested in their softness―Richie was lost in the story, hardly paying attention to him―and the sweet taste his words left in the air. Richie read the next passage in a fake, trembling-all-over voice, and for effect, flinched backward as if frightened. Richie’s shoulder met Eddie’s chin and for a second, Eddie didn’t think much about his next choice as he let it rest there. Richie didn’t seem to mind either. He flipped the pages with Eddie’s head on his shoulder and they listened together about the ill-fated Tucker family. Eddie’s heart began to falter.

Arrhythmia. His mother’s ghost word appeared in Eddie’s mind, though he didn’t know what it really meant. He thought it was something that happened when your heart got so excited it wouldn’t beat right for you.  

But it wasn’t the story that made Eddie’s heart excited. It was Richie. It was the way his dark eyes glistened behind his glasses. It was his electric blue Hawaiian button up and the white undershirt tucked inside his shorts. It was in his kindness to even be sitting next to Eddie. It was the fact that he was no longer alone at the library.

Richie had stopped reading at the sound of a shrill whisper echoing through the stillness.

“Eddie! It’s time to go back home.”

“That’s my mom,” Eddie said with a sad sigh, shifting away from Richie’s shoulder and looking up at his fixed expression.

“What?”

Richie thrust the book into Eddie’s fingers. “You read it.”

Eddie stared down at the cover as he got off the floor. His heart jumped to its own rhythm again, forgetting to beat a few times when Richie eased back on the stiff carpet and picked up Vampire Breath instead. Eddie didn’t want to leave. He wanted to sit back down with Richie and finish the chapter, the whole book, the piles all around him, all so that stovetop heat would return to his cheeks and he’d melt at Richie’s words all over again. Maybe Eddie didn’t exactly need a knight’s armor for things like this, when he felt like a warm dish of butter. To have a friend.

Eddie decidedly slipped the Stormtrooper bookmark into the front page and bent down to set it on one of the piles. “I don’t think she’ll let me take it. She’ll say it’s too scary or something.”

Richie put Vampire Breath on his chest and thought for a moment.

“Come back next weekend, maybe I can get my mom to meet yours,” Richie murmured back, then winced at Sonia’s panicked call for her son again.

“What for?”

“So you can come to my house...I’ve got all his books in my room.” Richie said with a blush. “Plus comics.”

“But,” Eddie peered over the shelves in worry, thankful he didn’t see his mother’s looming body yet. “Why would you wanna hang out with me?”

Richie didn’t miss a beat, though his cheeks were red. “Cause you’re a cool dude, Eds.”

“Eddie! I said one book, mister.”

Eddie stood over Richie like he had been a while ago, at a loss of what to say. He could still hardly believe that someone would want to spend time with him. The idea that he was cool. Eddie had an inhaler and religiously wore a fanny pack and thought of himself as anything but cool.  

“So you’ll come back then?” Richie asked hopefully, his eyes wide behind the lenses.

“S-Sure, Richie. I’ll be back.”

As he walked away he heard the sound of Richie’s book pages flipping, and the angry eyes of his mother bore down on him.

“What were you doing this whole time?” She demanded in a strained voice. “You kept me waiting, I was worried you’d been kidnapped.”

Eddie felt that familiar constricting in his throat again whenever his mother was nearby. All of the words from the books disappeared. He didn’t live in the pages of R. L. Stine anymore; he was nestled inside the chokehold of delicate and weak and asthmatic.

But maybe next time Eddie could enter the Derry Public Library doors a different boy. One that may still be a bit fragile and small, but had someone else to walk through the aisles with. Had someone else to read with. And he wasn’t alone.

[slash-em-up]

In-Flight Entertainment Pt. 2: Chromeskull x Reader

Here’s part 2!! As promised, this is almost entirely SMUT!! You’ve been warned. Enjoy!!

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

The goth-pirate known as ‘Jesse’ sure made a mean cocktail.

You giggled and flopped onto the couch, letting your free arm run lightly over the soft leather as you kicked off your Ugg’s.

“Jesus, if I could travel like this maybe I wouldn’t hate flying so much.”

Your dinner partner leaned back in the too-small dining room chair and smirked at you, draining the last of his drink before pouring another from the pitcher of Old Fashions he’d mixed at your request.

He’d signed ‘All the good whiskey is gone anyway…’ and then ruined all other Old Fashions for you forever.

Dinner had tasted like it was from a five-star restaurant. Hardly the Big Mac you’d been contemplating before being ‘abducted’. Your eyes had nearly popped out of your head as suit-clad waiters appeared through the suites door and offered you both menus before Jesse waved them off, texting that you’d both take ‘one of everything’.

Now you were full, a little tipsy, and having a pretty great time, all things considered.

“Do you always fly like this?”

Jesse shook his head.

‘Sometimes I don’t have a layover.’

You laughed “Smartass!” before slapping a hand over your mouth.

“Sorry. That was rude.”

He waved you off with a dismissive gesture.

‘It’s OK. I am. But don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to uphold.’

“Oh? And what reputation is that?” You smiled teasingly. God, were you really flirting? You didn’t even know him - not really.

Jesse tilted his head and looked at you - the grin he’d been sporting all night slowly dropping.

‘Not a terribly pleasant or interesting one.’

You sobered a bit as well.

“Well whatever you do out there…” you gestured vaguely at the door “… You’ve been a glorious smart-ass in here.”

The tall man grinned again, dropping his head in a mocking bow at your side-ways compliment.

Taking another sip of your drink you tried to think of another topic of conversation - something that would bring you back into nice neutral territory.

But then Jesse started to unbutton his shirt.

Not much - he clearly wasn’t trying to do a strip-tease for you - but the buttons he undid left just enough skin exposed for you to see the beginnings of a tattoo on his chest and the faint lines of his pectoral muscles skimming teasingly beneath his black button-down and your brain went completely blank.

“Umm…”

Very eloquent.

Jesse followed your gaze and gave you a look.

‘A little stuffy in here, right?’

“Sure…”

‘Only six more hours till take-off if the god damn snow lets up…’

“Hopefully…”

‘Am I bothering you?’

He undid another button.

“No!” you gasped out, tearing your eyes away from the new inches of skin he’d exposed - this time definitely teasing you on purpose.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

Jesse huffed in a way you’d come to learn was his way of laughing.

‘Stare all you like - less annoying than pretending you’re not looking at the face, honestly.’

Now you really wanted to ask what’d happened to his face; but thankfully you had enough of your faculties still in-tact to decide that probably wasn’t a good idea if you wanted him to keep working on those buttons.

And you really, really did.

“You’re right. It is pretty stuffy in here…”

I mean, it wasn’t entirely untrue - the thermostat was set to a balmy 73 degrees, and despite the snowstorm outside you were pretty toasty in this weird grand-theft suitcase fever dream you were experiencing.

And the fact that your stomach was doing very strange things when Jesse smirked and slowly pushed another button through its hole, revealing even more tattooed skin, could definitely be blamed on the dinner.

Too much rich food and your stomach was starting to do flip-flops.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the inches of muscular skin covered in intricate ink that was now bared nearly entirely to your gaze.

Fuck. You were in trouble.

You swallowed roughly as your eyes met Jesse’s. He looked like he was nearly ready to pounce on you - and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to.

“You know… I wasn’t planning to hook up on this trip…”

Jesse’s eye narrowed as his lips twitched into a teasing grin.

‘I saw the underwear you packed. I HOPE you weren’t planning on hooking up on your trip.’

Your mouth dropped.

“Hey! I - “

But before you could respond Jesse had moved from his chair with an unanticipated speed; coming to kneel before your sprawl across the couch.

He was immediately in your space, mouth inches from yours as even on his knees he was much, much taller than you were sitting.

Your eyes caught his as his lips grazed lightly over yours.

“And I supposed you packed appropriate underwear for hooking up?”

Jesse responded by threading one large hand into your hair and pulling you forward into a rough kiss.

You moaned as he ran his tongue along the seam of your lips - which you opened immediately - only to do so again in frustration as he barely dipped inside before retreating, teasing you as your tongue chased after.

Frustrating man, frustrating kisser… that tracked.

Running your hands along his chest, you made short work of the couple of remaining buttons and pushed the soft fabric down his arms - surprising him, and yourself by pulling the cloth taut half-way down his arms, effectively trapping him as you surged forward and turned, bringing yourself over to straddle his hips.

You gasped as his pelvis thrust up, letting you feel just how much he was enjoying your little foreplay. He felt… proportional. And that was more than a bit intimidating.

“Fuck, Jesse…” you gasped out between kisses.

He nodded in agreement, already breathing heavily as he leaned closer to suck a hickey into the skin of your neck.

Crying out you ground your hips into his - enjoying the vibrations of his silent moan against you as he hardened even further in his slacks.

His teeth pulled at the collar of your shirt and you obliged by quickly removing it and tossing it across the room.

Your bra followed right after before your brain decided to come back online and force you to pull away, looking anywhere but at him - nervous now that your barriers were being removed.

Jesse took advantage of your distraction to twist free of your impromptu bonds, hands coming up to caress your face before running sensuously down your bare sides.

It was hard to be self-conscious when he was so obviously enthralled by you.

He leaned in for another kiss, which you eagerly returned before letting out an indignant squeal as one of his hands landed a sound slap against your still clothed ass.

Your eyes popped open as you felt him take ahold of you and hoist you both up to standing before setting you gently back against a cold, smooth surface.

Oh god, was that the window?!

He was going to fuck you in front of a window.

Your embarrassment level dialed up to fifty; but then Jesse dropped to his knees in front of you, and you decided your modesty and confidence issues could fuck right off for a while.

Unsure of where to put your hands, you settled them across his broad shoulder as he leaned in to run his face over the skin of your stomach, kissing you there before moving further down along the seam of your pants until he was pressed right up against your heat.

He inhaled deeply, causing you to shiver and moan. You could feel yourself getting wet and he hadn’t really done more than kiss you.

Your fingers worked frantically at your waistband, trying to push them down your hips so you could bring Jesse even closer to where you desperately wanted him.

Grinning up at you, Jesse’s broad hands joined yours, taking over as his thumbs pulled your leggings down, along with your underwear, leaving you fully nude in front of him.

You motioned to his own tented slacks.

“Fair’s fair…” you gasped.

Jesse stood, towering over you before guiding one of your hands to his fly before pressing both long arms against the window - effectively caging you in with his body; but also giving you license to touch as you wanted.

And holy fuck did you want.

The hand not occupied with freeing his cock roamed unchecked across his skin, tracing each tattoo and feeling, to your surprise, many scars of various shapes and sizes made invisible to the eye by the intricate designs.

It felt like he was hiding a lifetime of pain under there. Some tattoos were bright and fresh; clearly done fairly recently… but some were fading, letting the rough, pale scars peek through.

Jesse watched you as you studied him.

He wondered what you’d think if he told you that every tattoo was designed to mask a wound - that each time he was cut or shot that as soon as he arrived home his team had both doctors and artists ready to patch him up and then ink over the evidence of the violence he perpetrated.

What better way to hide something than to cover it?

You skimmed your hand over his nipple, bringing him from his morbid thoughts with a gasp.

Fuck, that felt good. How long had it been since he’d done this? Not with a piggy; but with someone who he actually - surprisingly -enjoyed having around. Someone with no other ulterior motive than to enjoy a few hours of pleasure with him. God, it had been ages.

Finally finishing with his trousers, you pushed them down his slim hips until he was able to kick them off into a corner.

His cock curved enticingly into the skin of your stomach and you couldn’t help but to dip down and taste him, causing him to toss his head back in pleasure.

You moaned as you filled your mouth with as much of him as you could take, wrapping your hand around the rest and quickly finding a rhythm that made Jesse’s legs shake.

Leaning over you, he let the cold window press against his forehead - he wasn’t going to cum like some teenager from just a blow and a hand. Although he definitely could if his pride would allow it - the noises you were making as you suckled on his length were driving him insane.

Jesse’s hips were moving with you as you sucked and fondled his balls; only to let out a yelp as you were pulled away and turned to press against the chill glass.

Your nipples hardened immediately and you gasped at the sensation along with the visceral jolt of fear that someone would look up at just the right time and see your naked body pressed against the window.

You felt Jesse’s hand come down to cup your mound, sliding one, then two long fingers through your slick before pressing slowly inside.

Jesse turned your head to swallow up your cry of pleasure with his lips as he began a punishing pace.

You may have made his legs shake; but he was determined to make yours buckle.

Soon a third finger joined, prepping you for his cock and you couldn’t help but to hump his hand as the long digits inside of you pounded against your g-spot.

“Please, Jesse, please I can’t, I - “

Your first orgasm of the night went through you like a shot. You screamed up to the ceiling as Jesse wrapped his other arm around your waist to keep you upright - barely giving you a second to recover before his cock was sliding into your hot depths.

“F-fuck!!”

You’d never felt so full in your life, and while your body was still contracting and spasming from your first orgasm, Jesse thrust into you an pulled you mercilessly into another.

“OH MY GOD!!”

Your feet left the ground as the man behind you grasped your knee and across your breasts, lifting you up to angle himself to better drive into you from behind.

A constant stream of babbling praise left your mouth as you wrapped an arm behind you to wrap around Jesse’s neck.

The sound of your wet pussy being filled to the point of overstimulation filled the small room, echoing through the space in a sinful symphony of breathing and moaning and filthy, wet noises.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself crest on a third orgasm, wailing and thrashing enough that Jesse was forced to take you both to your knees lest he drop you - immediately pushing your face down into the ground as his pace increased - his own end nearing as you sobbed out your pleasure - so much pleasure that you couldn’t tell if you were overstimulated beyond reason, or experiencing the world’s longest orgasm.

One, two, three rough thrusts and Jesse finally came into your exhausted cunt.

Shivering and gasping, one last slow orgasm ran through your body as you felt his cock spray it’s seed into you, filling you to bursting.

Jesse collapsed over you, chest heaving.

You couldn’t move. Every part of your body was jelly, and you were pretty sure you were going to die here. That was A-Okay with you.

“Holy shit…”

Jesse nodded tiredly against the back of your neck.

Holy shit indeed.

Slowly turning, you looked up at Jesse, who was still trying to regain his breath above you.

“Is it lame to say ‘thank you’?”

He grinned brightly down at you, pulling you to sit across his lap before signing;

‘Only if it’s lame to say ‘thank you’ back.’

You smiled tiredly.

“Well then I guess neither of us should say it, then.”

Jesse leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, which you barely returned - already half-asleep.

“Mmm... wake me up before the plane leaves…”

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

“Ma’am? Ma’am?”

You jolted up, ready to fight, before sinking back down into your seat with a groan.

“Oh fuck me…” you said, raising a hand and running it tiredly over your eyes.

“I’m so sorry to disturb you ma’am; but we need all passengers to secure their luggage before take-off.”

Peering through your fingers, you stared in confusion at the flight attendant.

Why was there a flight attendant here?

Where was here?

Oh shit! You were on a plane!

Now wide awake, you sat up quickly, grasping the flight attendant by the wrist.

“How did I get here? What flight is this?!”

Looking nonplussed, the attendant gently removed your hand.

“You’re on the 10:57 flight from Denver to LA. The snow finally cleared enough for the pilot to take off.”

You stared.

“This isn’t coach…”

“… No ma’am, this is first class.”

“… but I have a coach ticket…”

The attendant glanced down at the ticket stub stuck in the pocket outside your seat.

She looked confused.

“No, ma’am, it says first class here… I’m sorry if there’s been some misunderstanding… maybe the gentleman who brought you aboard can clear things up.”

Now it was your turn to look confused.

“The gentleman who…”

The attendant pointed over your shoulder.

“He’s right over there.”

Swiveling in your seat you stared down the aisle, meeting Jesse’s laughing brown eye from a few rows back.

“Now, like I said we are preparing for takeoff, so if you’d be so kind as to secure your carry-on we’ll be up in the air and serving your complimentary champagne and hors d’oeuvre’s in no time!”

Grumbling under your breath you stuffed your carry-on under your seat.

Well, you supposed there were worse ways to fly.

[cesabutterflywrites]

Will Bring You to Your Knees

Part [3] in An Angel’s Smile Series

“In his naked glory, the mortals wept at the witness of true divinity-and confessed to their many sins”

Summary: Janus Ethan Dannecker starts college with only a box, backpack, $300, and a ton of emotional baggage that is overwhelming. The broken home he came from cast a shadow on him that he refused to let anyone see. The scars on his body were no match for the scars on his soul. He made it his mission to never let anyone see where he came from. See what he was really made of. See how messed up he would always be.

That is, until Patton Mavers smiled at him.  Ao3 [First Part] [Previous Part] [Next Part Coming Soon] [Spotify Playlist]

Word Count:  1761

Story Warnings: past abusive childhood, angst, untreated/undiagnosed mental illness symptoms, detailed descriptions of abuse, cursing, implied/referenced substance abuse. Rated M for Mature audiences. Let me know if I need to add more, and read with caution!

Will Bring You to Your Knees

Janus woke up to the sound of Green Day’s ‘Holiday’. Well, more like he startled so hard he fell off of his bed and hit his head on the desk next to him. The sound of Virgil’s alarm blared in the small room obnoxiously. It was too early for that garage music, in his opinion. The assault on his ears seemed to have no effect on Virgil, who was the one who set the alarm  in the first place.  

 Janus hissed in pain, rubbing the spot and watching his roommate shuffle in his bed to turn off the alarm. Virgil didn't even get up, he just rolled over in his bed and immediately started snoring. Janus took a moment to stare incredulously. Who set an alarm so loud and startling only to just fall back asleep after turning it off? 

He cursed himself immediately. He had no right to judge how Virgil conducted his mornings. He was rude for even thinking about it. It was one more thing to hate about himself-the silent snap judgements about something that wasn’t that big of a deal. 

 He closed his eyes. He was so weary from his fitful sleep. He had once again been dreaming about his true self. The self he hid at all costs- the one who was evil. The version of him who was always screaming in his mind. He had dreamed of what his true self would say to Patton. He would break down. Scream in his face about how he would never be fine. 

 He sat there, leaning against the desk while he ran his hand through his greasy hair. He hadn’t been able to clean himself for a while before he arrived. He knew that the dorm had community showers, similar to what locker rooms were like. He had read about it in his brochure, and had dreaded the day he’d have to navigate the challenges it would pose.

 Janus sighed after he pulled himself up. He had his first class in two and a half hours, he noted after glancing at the clock by his bed. He took out his phone-an old model on its last legs, which would need replacing soon-and gazed at it intensely, as if begging the device to magically tell him whether or not he had time for a shower and crisis before getting to class.

 Realizing time was slipping away, he decided to go for it. He’d be in a dorm for a year, at least, and he needed to get over the fear of community showers at some point. It was ridiculous to be so embarrassed.  He could probably easily avoid having people see the scars all over his body...he hoped.

 Part of him thought it was too early in the morning to be paranoid. The other part laughed, because it wasn’t like Janus could ever settle down enough to let go of his insecurities. It was useless to even think he’d be done with his fear of the world. As long as his skin was marked, he would never be convinced of his freedom. 

 As he gathered his things, he started thinking of lies he could tell if anyone saw the marks covering his shoulders, back, and abdomen. He could say gruesome animal attack, but quickly discarded that. Too many follow up questions. Maybe a bully at school? No, too much sympathy. He grew frustrated at the lack of preparation for the inevitable question. 

 There was always the option of...not answering. Of saying it was private. There was the option for answering with that. Perhaps his father had been right after all.

 It was better for him to be silent.

 Especially his...if  the  angel were to ever see him bare chested. Those wonderful green eyes losing their light to the horrible sight. Janus conjured the image of Patton’s carefree face curled with disgust at the sight of him. He didn’t think of what he’d do in that scenario, and he wasn’t going to entertain that line of thinking further. 

 He grabbed his bag and towel. His heart was pounding as the worried thoughts fluttered through his mind like eagles diving towards their prey. He  felt his heartbeat in his ears. The halls seemed to grow never ending as he made his way through the groups of students also just waking up. He felt like everyone was already staring at him. Gazes of disgust were surely being thrown against his back as he walked past. If it weren’t for the tags scratching his neck, he’d think he was already naked. 

 Finally, as if the walk was five years instead of ten minutes, he made it outside the doors to the showers. He steeled himself, put on his brave mask, and walked in. 

 He nearly ran into a shirtless Roman. 

 “Woah, hey there Janus!” Roman greeted enthusiastically. His strawberry blond hair was dripping wet, which was a compliment to his wide grin. He seemed a little too chipper for that early in the morning. How was this man with someone like Virgil?

 “Hi,” Janus replied lamely. “Um…” 

 Roman was smarter than he looked, it seemed to Janus, because his face morphed into one of sympathy. His eyebrows scrunched together as he looked down at Janus. It was...unnerving.

  The pair scooted out of the way as another person came in. 

 “You’ve never used one of these before, huh?” Roman’s voice was quiet, and he held that damn oversweet sympathy in his eyes. What had Patton said to him?

 Janus just shook his head. He felt sick with himself, being so obviously out of his element, and the fact that Roman was being so kind about it made it even more of a slap to the face. Still, he stuck with the shy approach because defensiveness would not be helpful to him. Roman was probably trying to be kind.

 “Well, it’s not as scary as it seems. You hang your towel and bag on the hook right next to the door inside your stall, do your thing, and get out to change your clothes in the changing stalls if you don’t want to do it on the shower bench.” Roman winked at Janus, “Unless you forget your shirt like I did.” 

 “It looks like they’re all in use…” Janus commented, feeling very aware of the time ticking by. What if he was late to his first class? What if he couldn’t do this after all? How much time had passed?

 “Patton’s almost done I think, you can use that one after he’s done I’m sure.” Roman eyed Janus, his ocean blue eyes must have noticed more than Janus was choosing to show, because he offered to stay until a stall became available. 

 It was infuriating, on some level, to have people suddenly care about him. It was a blatant reminder that he was a fake. He wasn’t worth the attention. The only reason he was being treated nicely was because he had fooled Roman and the others that he was a likable person. 

 Then he had been rude to Patton. The angel with the loveable smile. His easy acceptance of Janus had been a shock, and he was met with dishonesty. Necessary little lies that Janus lived by. It was enough to affirm the belief that he wasn’t worth it. It was enough to make him want to confess it all to Patton-to keep him and the others away. 

 Janus denied the offer, but Roman stayed anyway. It was two minutes when the angel, that beautiful angel, walked out with a baby blue towel wrapped around his hips. His curly hair was a darker color from the wet, and barely touching his shoulders. The blue streak in his bangs was leaking some of it’s dye-Janus wondered if it would stain Patton’s skin.

 He was holding a black net bag that held his things.  His arms were thicker than Janus had realized, and it was obvious that Patton did some form of working out. He didn’t have a six pack, but his chest and abdomen were defined-with hints of softness where his hips and waist were. Janus refused to glance further, choosing to look back at the angel’s face again.

 Heat of attraction that he never felt before was at the edge of his consciousness. Blood made of desire made its way to his cheeks. He was sure that his heart had quickened its pace. The beauty, the magnificence, the light of this beautiful man’s aura caused Janus to feel grounded where he stood. 

 Janus’s mask crumbled. He knew he was ogling, but it was as if there was a halo of light in the mist around Patton as he made his way with his clothing bag to one of the changing stalls. The spell broke, and he was grateful Patton hadn’t noticed him. He let out a breath, and looked to see Roman grinning at him cheekily. 

 “Did you like the view?” Roman teased. He wasn’t being mean, of course. Roman didn’t seem the type to be malicious. 

 Janus’ annoyance with Roman slipped through as he rolled his eyes. He refused to acknowledge that he was still blushing. “Thank you for your help Roman. Have a good day.” 

 Janus passed as Patton walked out of the stall dressed in a blue polo shirt with khaki pants. His face was clear of the leaked dye, miraculously. His hair was starting to curl again. He was wearing his glasses, framing his face perfectly. He looked like a baseball dad more than a college student. His hair was still wet, but shaggier from the towel. His face brightened when he caught Janus’ arm.

 “Hi Janus,” he smiled, “Hope you have a good day. Good luck!” 

 Janus held onto that phrase. His arm was caught in tingles from the brief gesture of affection. He hadn’t even flinched! Even after he had acted rude the other night, Patton was still nice to him. Maybe the care the angel had for the stranger was real after all. Or maybe he was just nice to everyone. Either way, Janus felt a spark of what could be considered genuine joy. 

 “Darn it Roman, where is your shirt?” he heard Patton chastise his roommate. Roman naturally laughed off the question

 Janus giggled to himself, and braved his first shower with ease. As he made his way to class after, all he could think about was Patton telling him to have a good day. He hadn’t even had time to worry about how he looked in front of the angel. 

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TAGLIST: @omgsomeonesomewhereonearth , @deceits-left-glove ​ , @louistownsmyass

Let me know if you wanna be on the taglist for this story or any of my other ships!

[Masterpost of all my writings]

[whimsymimsywrites]

A beautiful morning with your baby boy Twice

Pairing; Twice/ Jin Bubaigawara x GN reader

 Apocalypse au collab [MASTER LIST]

Warning; 18+

Kinks; Clothed sex, outdoor sex, blowjob, anal, face sitting, slight cock warming.

AN; I wasn’t sure how to tag this without getting yeeted into the naughty corner. I hope you guys like this!

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

You stood in the ruins of Tokyo, 5 years ago it would have been crammed full of people who were traveling elsewhere, too busy looking at their phones to notice the beauty of the morning. Looking up at the small bits of shining glass that had not been retaken by nature yet. In the early morning light the buildings glittered like water. You let your backpack slip off your shoulder as the light filtered down waking all the nature that slumbered below the giant structure. 

“It’s such a beautiful morning.” You muttered under your breath. Letting all the errands and cares you had melt away in the soft morning breeze. 

“Hey come on! The others are waiting for us!” A voice behind you chirped as a set of arms wrapped around your waist in a friendly hug.

“But Jin, Look at how pretty it all is, Why don’t we just take a moment and relax?” You suggested and leaned against him. 

“Ahhh, Well,” Jin hummed and glanced around before looking back down at you, pulling his beanie down slightly to cover the split in his forehead. “I guess we can take a little break, I mean we do have a lot to carry back to the fam squad.” He said with a grin. “Thanks for finding this hat by the way, You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did,” You said and turned in his arms. “I was the one who accidentally ripped your mask, It was only fair I find a replacement.” You glance down at his chest and lean against him. “I’m glad you guys found me when you did.” You muttered softly as Jin led you into a soft swaying dance.

“I’m super glad too. Hell, If it hadn’t been for you, we might still be fighting a corrupt society,” He chuckled softly then his voice became sharper. “Yeah, if you hadn’t shown us that a hard reset would help our cause then we might have been killed in the long run. Not that Dumb ass ever thinks of that.” His voice switched again, ”Hey! That's true but it’s not nice!”

“Jin, You gotta be nicer to yourself.” You cooed softly and cupped his face with your hands. “If it weren't for you I wouldn’t have been able to build our salvation in the first place.”You say stroking his cheek and watching him melt into your touch. “Such a good boy”

Jin almost purred and smiled dumbly as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up, nuzzling your chest and closing his eyes in a moment of bliss.

“Awww, my baby boy, do you want Master to take care of you for a while?” You asked as you ran a soothing hand over his shoulders  and back. He groans softly and looks up at you with love and adoration.

“Yes, Please Master. I love when you do.” He mumbles and hugs your waist and lifts you from the ground. Behind you you heard a cough starling Jin into dropping you. You groaned and rubbed your ass as you looked behind you. “Oh, Hey Dabi!” Jin said pulling his beanie down over his face.  Behind you at the other side of the road stood Dabi with a small wagon alongside him. 

“You guys done?” Dabi asked in a raspy voice then he sighed. “I can take the bags back so you two can have some…. Alone time.” He said then made a slightly disgusted face. Jin grinned thanking him profusely as he grabbed all the bags and dashed across to him dumping the bags unceremoniously into the small cart as you walked over and smiled at Dabi.

“Thanks man, Maybe while we’re still out we can find something for you?” You offered in return but dabi shook his head gesturing up. Far above you Hawks flew out of a window diving down to your group.

“Thanks, But we’ve got it covered, Besides we’re just out seeing if  any of the electronics survived.” The burnt male grumbled. “That thing you made was pretty effective. Took out everything as far as we can get so far.” You nodded smiling at him.

“I only did as you guys wanted. You said to reset society and I did. ” You chirped pleasantly as Jin took your hand.

“Yeah you did, It was a shame about all those Electric quirk users though. Oh yeah Twice. Make sure you get back before dark, we’re having a meeting later.” Dabi said as Hawks touched down looking at the bags and his companion, “Come on hawks, Let's get back. We can go again after a break.” Dabi groaned as he and hawks made their way out. 

After the two were out of sight Jin picked you up bridal style and started running to a hidden alley off the main road, grinning like a fool all the while you were laughing. 

“Slow down!” You said between giggles. “Don’t wanna trip!” Your arms wrapped around his neck as he slowed down and grinned at you.

“Ah, Sorry, All the cute stuff you were saying earlier got me really excited...” Jin said and set you on the ground and looked around before pulling out his cock. It twitched in his hand, erect and needy. “He looks so lonely, master.” Jin said, trying to act cute. “Please kiss him better?” 

Smirking you take his cock into your hands, gently stroking it and  looking up at him. Jins eyes closed as he moaned weakly, undoing his pants fully and yanking down his boxers.  Then pulling up his shirt, so his body was bared to you. Shifting to your knees you looked up at him, his cock twitching and throbbing in your hands.

“Talk to Master baby boy, Tell me what you want me to do. If you stop talking I’ll stop too.” You ordered as you swiped the pad of your thumb over the slit of his cock. He gasped loudly and gripped his shirt tighter.

“I- I want master to play with me.” He started as you stroked his cock a little faster. “I’ve been such a good boy for you! I haven’t touched myself cause I know my cock belongs to you!” He thrusted his hips as your warm tongue trailed along the underside of his heated flesh. “Master I’ve been dreaming about pleasuring you for the past week, You could sit on my face I just wanna make you happy!.” He spasmed as his voice got a bit harsher. “I wanna bend you over and fuck you till you can’t walk.” His voice turned to a growl. “Fill you full of my seed in every hole I can.” He shuddered as the tip of his cock entered the slick heat of your mouth and you began to suck his cock. Your eyes trained on him. He whimpered and panted. “M-Master! I love you Master!” Slowly you pulled his cock out and let the saliva strand that formed break of its own accord. 

“Baby boy, I love you too, Will you show me how much you love me?” You asked innocently and Jin nodded.

 He gets on his knees and yanks down your pants and turns you to face the wall. Licking his lips he spread your ass cheeks to see how you working on him made you feel. 

“Master, you look so needy, Can I touch you? Licking you?” He asks looking up at you. His eyes were begging. “Please?”

“Hmmmm” You hummed in a teasing manner as you wiggle your ass at him. “I dunno, Should I let you?” You look back and smirk as he pouts and kisses your ass. “I’ll let you do it for a little bit” You say and giggle. He perks up and licks lips and leans forward and lazily draws his tongue along not only your ass, but along your sensitive sex as well. 

“Master you taste so good~.” He moans and presses the tip of a finger to your needy asshole and pushes it in. You cover your mouth and moan in response to his touch. “Master do you like it?” He asked unsure but at the small noises his excitement got the best of him and he started to lick and kiss and finger your needy hold. “Master” He mumbles as he adds a finger and stretches your hole out.

“A-ah! Be careful,” You warn as your ass gets played with. “Make sure you don’t start something you can’t finish baby boy.” You groan as Jin licks and probes you his own need becoming evident.

“Master, Please, Take me, I want to be yours.” He whimpered then he growled. “You better take us before we take you. Just cause he’s a bottom bitch doesn’t mean I am!” With a frown you push him back so his back was against the wall and pressed your ass against his face. He moans as he gets back to pleasing you. Looking down you see his poor neglected cock weeping and twitching as he pushes his tongue into your ass.

“Okay,” You said, pulling away hearing him whimper. “Time for the main event.” You tease as he looks up at you. “Now, Beg for me.” you say slipping off your pants, Jin bit his lip and whimpered as his hand reached for his cock. “Hey, I didn’t say you could touch my cock.”

“Master please fuck me, I’ve been such a good boy, I haven’t touched my self for a week, I’ve done everything you asked, I’ve made sure I’m clean and don’t got any hair, I rode that dildo for you this morning, I’m helping you make another bomb.” He begs trying to think  of whatever good things he’s done as you move down and rub the sensitive tip of his cock against your ass. “Please Master I love you, I’ll do anything for you!” He gasps and tries not to buck his hips into your hole.

“I know baby boy, you’ve been so good all week, And now I’ll give you a good reward.” You say as you push his cock inside, you could feel him twitch and throb inside of you. “A-ah~. Good boy~.” You moan as Jin rolls his eyes back. “You like that baby?” He nods as you slowly start to rock your hips against him. “You can wrap your arms around me.” At your words he pulls you into a hug, pulling out his cock slightly. You kiss his head and smile as you slowly ride him, your heart starts to work faster as you do.

“M-master, you feel so good, I love you!” He pants and thrusts up a bit. “S-sorry,” You smile and kiss his head and push down against him as he moans. “A-ah, I can feel you gripping me!” The heat from both your bodies makes you feel sweat starting to bead up on your body as both of your body heats and scents start to mix.

“You’re such a good boy, so sweet and kind to everyone, even if they don’t deserve it.” You say sweetly into his ear as you slowly start to ride his hard cock feeling it inch in with every thrust. He pants and rolls his eyes back. You smile at all of his wanton expressions “What a cute face,” You teased and slammed down onto his cock your eyes roll back as his cock fills your ass as beads of sweat roll down your face, Jins sweet face was turning into a hot sweaty mess as well. “A-ah~! You like this baby boy?”

“Master!” He moaned and hid his face into your chest, biting into your shirt as you rode against him. You can hear someone coming from somewhere but at this point neither of you cared. You could feel him getting closer to the edge along with you. You can feel beads of sweat rolling down your spine as  you keep riding him, He clings to you panting increasing the heat between you both. You can feel your core tighten like a spring ready to go off as Jin moans in pleasure. Your body starts to spasm and move of its own accord losing yourself to the pleasure and pull jins face up and kiss him deeply. Your eager tongue slipping into his mouth and playing with his. He moaned submissively then growled, wrapping his arms around you and taking control of the pace. And for once, you didn’t mind it. He started to slam you down on his cock, as if he was trying to reach deeper with his cock. 

“Good boy!” You moaned into the kiss. “You can cum inside me.” You said as you held on to his arms and wrapped your shaking legs around his hips. Jin took that as an invitation to start slamming into your ass as hard as he could. His head resting on your shoulder as he moaned and panted in your ear.  “You’re doing so good Jin baby, You’re making me feel so good baby boy.”You praise him as the spring inside you winds up more then it releases in an instant, throwing your head back you can see stars while your legs tremble and spasm, you feel him start to slow as  thick ropes of cum filled your ass. He groaned weakly and held you in place as if he was trying to breed your ass. “Such a good boy.” You mumbled.

“I lobe yous Masters” He mumbled into your neck his mind gives up for the day. “Master. Sleepy.” He mumbled again and you could feel his body get heavy.

“Oh no,” You groaned as he fell asleep while his cock was still inside your ass, against the alley wall. “Oh baby...” You said softly.

“Really guys? Again?” a new voice asked incredulously, you turn your head in time to see the back of a familiar blonde girl. “God, you two. So dirty.” She mumbled. 

“You can complain, or you can help free me and carry jin home.” You teased. “‘Sides you’re just jealous that I call Jin my sweet baby boy and not you.” You spot her ears turning red.

“Hush up you. Just hurry up and get free so we can take Twice home.” She said her back still facing you. “Just cause you made that EMP doesn’t mean you get to lewd Twice everywhere.”

“Hey, He started it.” You said as you pulled yourself away from him, much to his sleepy protests. “Come on Jin, Wakey wakey, We gotta clean up and go home.” You said softly kissing his head.

“I am home.” He muttered but let you go all the same. You both cleaned up as best you could and leaned on Toga as your legs were still shaky and Jin was still half asleep.

“It’s a beautiful morning.” You mumbled. Looking up at the morning sky reflected in the shattered glass of the sky scrapers. Letting all the cares you had melt away in the soft morning breeze