#mdni banner by cafekitsune :)

[fos-tis-zois]

thinking about co-worker!nanami kento who cannot stop staring at you every minute you are in the office.

the minute you step out of the elevator his eyes fall on your every movement. the way you rearrange your desk every morning before starting work, and what he would give to take you on your desk and eat you out until he cannot breathe. he probably still wouldn't stop. he watches you every day as you make your coffee and take your cup to your plump, glossy lips, breathing out a sense of relief after your first sip. ohh what he would give to be the one on your lips, tasting your sweet lip gloss mixed with caffeine, and giving you so much more relief than that cup. he knows he is not the only one looking at you. he sees all the other men in the office gawking at your ass hugging skirt, wanting to break their faces for even looking at the perfect body which only his discreet eyes deserved. his heart literally stops when you pass by his office and wave at him with a smile before you resume your work. and fuck….what he would do to see how that pretty mouth looks when he bends you over his desk and pounds you till fucking oblivion, if your sweet pussy can even take him all in. it had almost become a ritual to get a hard on every morning after seeing you, but he was learning to keep it hidden.

he had to keep all of this in, always. he respected the work you did and knew you saw him as a mentor. he did not want to break that trust in any way by letting you know even a little about the lewd thoughts he has been having of you. but all his caution went out the window one day when he saw you in the office lounge, getting lunch with the team. even though you were at a different table with your friend, he could not help but be jealous of the sauce coating your lips, his thoughts once again getting the best of him. the fact that you were wearing a tight shirt which accentuated your perfect big b🍒bs was not helping kento's mind from everything unholy. the tipping point was when a dollop of the sauce fell on your chest, right above your tits. you laughed with your friend about it, and wiped it off your chest with your finger and put it in your mouth to lick the sauce off. it is as if this whole thing took place in slow motion in front of kento's eyes. he immediately became so hard that he had to excuse himself saying he had an important meeting pushed up that he needed to attend. he literally had to hide himself with the empty tray he was holding, lest his co-workers see the excruciating situation your existence had put him in.

as if this was not enough, his karmic slap was when an important meeting really did get pushed up which you had to attend with him and you both got loaded with a lot of work to finish within a really time crunched deadline. this meant kento had to stay late, even pull an all-nighter maybe. that part really wasn’t difficult. what was difficult was that he had to do this with you. “You do not have to stay Y/n, it has been a long day, you are free to go home,” he tried to make you leave to relieve the sexual tension building in his pants. “thank you nanami-san, but according to this schedule we will have to finish up the presentations by tonight to meet the deadlines, it will be faster if i stay back with you too”. this is the work ethic he really did respect in you, really made restricting his urges worth it. he smiled ever so slightly and said, “You can call me Kento”. “but you’re my senior”, you hushed. “Finee, you can call me Kento when it’s just the two of us. better?” he offered. “yes, kento”, you replied. his name sounded sweeter than honey to him in your voice. he tried to shake all his thoughts away and threw himself to work.

an hour or so later, you got up to stretch out your back. nanami did not want to look but oof- the way your shirt was clinging to that perfect waist, he seemed to get frozen in time just looking at you again. “it seems like we are going to be here for a few more hours, i'm going to start a pot of coffee, want some?”, you asked, breaking his daze. “Um, what? Yeah sure coffee sounds good”, he musters, hoping you did not catch the way he was staring. you lean next to him to pick his mug up from the table, where the sight of your perfect tits got in his eyeline, and it’s like nanami forgot how to breathe. he immediately got up, entranced in your smell and almost put his hands on the small of your back to pull you close but stopped when he saw you looking at him, holding the two mugs in both your hands, confused. “Y/n…”, he started, “You are free to stop me or report me or whatever you deem necessary, but on the off chance you are okay with it, can I please kiss you?”

little did he know that you had been waiting for ages for him to ask you this. you were secretly delighted when he had been assigned your mentor. not only was he mind-blowingly good looking, he was extremely passionate, which was reflected in his work. you always wondered how that passion would convert when he took you, hopefully roughly, and made you his. you knew his eyes were on you when you entered in the mornings; you chose outfits that would make his eyes linger on your body more. as much as you respected your senior and knew this could not really happen, the forbiddenness of this dynamic was what turned you on every time you saw him, dressed up in his tight suits each time. you could not help but peek at his ass when he walked past you, or take a whiff of his sexy cologne everytime you walked together to or from conference rooms. you purposely greeted him every morning, hoping that one of the days he would finally break in and initiate something with you. you could not believe this was happening either when he finally asked you for a kiss.

“oh my god kentoo…”

“I’m sorry y/n, it was stupid-”

“i didn’t say no.

he looked at you in disbelief like he needed you to say it again. “please kiss me, kento”, you obliged. he did not have to be told a third time. he immediately crashed his lips on you, pulling you closer to him, his hands firm on your waist that he was admiring mere minutes ago. you close your arms around his neck, making the empty mugs you're holding crash into each other but neither of you cared about that at the moment. he takes one hand up to your neck and pulls your face closer to his, his other hand being on your ass squeezing it and pulling it towards his covered cock. you feel your effect on his bulging cock and curve your hips even more to press his cock onto you deeper. your hands move around the man’s entire body, lingering at his pecs and biceps. your lips aren’t stopping and he bites your lower lip softly, lips he has been looking at every morning wanting to do this forever. you part your lips and let his tongue explore every corner of your mouth. your tongues fight for dominance, neither of you wanting to let go for even a second. he breaks the kiss and attacks your neck, licking and biting like an animal in heat. he takes his one hand in your hair and pulls it down, giving him more access to your pretty neck. he moves from the neck to your ear lobes, licking it clean like a cat. your knees melt at his warm saliva being across your face, but still wanting so much more. he pulls your shirt open in with a sharp tug, letting the buttons fall loose on the floor. you open your mouth to protest, but it is replaced by the moans coming out of your mouth as he takes your tits out from your bra and puts one nipple in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. as he is playing with your nipples, he pulls your skirt up from behind and squeezes your ass, making you moan his name loudly, “aaah kento!” he looks back at you and whispers in his deep gravel voice, “my name has never sounded sweeter to me”, and kisses you again, with vigor, as if breathing was less important than kissing you at the moment. you pull his tie out and throw it on the table and undo all his buttons so you can see his sexy chiseled abs, the one you have been imagining on your lonely nights. you run your hand across his body, your fingers lightly touching his nipple. little did you know that was his sensitive spot. he breaks off the kiss and looks at you with his darkened eyes, “kneel.”

it's like his voice cast a spell on you, and you instantly fell on your knees. it is as if heavens itself had told you to kneel and with a voice like nanami’s, it really seemed heavenly. you immediately started unbuckling his belt and removing his slacks to relieve the pressure on his bulging dick. it sprang up as soon as you removed his boxers, and you gasped. nanami was chiseled like a greek god. you had only imagined what his perfect cock would look and feel like in you, but this was so much more. he was big, but not just long. he was girthy, and you wondered if you could even fit him in your mouth. but you had wanted this as much as nanami and you were ready to take all his stress away. you looked up at him as you took his throbbing veiny dick in your hand, and licked it fully from the end of his balls all the way to the tip of his fat cock. he winced, finally having your warm tongue on his cock, something he had literally dreamed about. you swirl your tongue in circles around his tip, making him throw his head back in pleasure and anticipation. once you have teased him enough, you take it whole in your mouth, almost hitting your throat. you bob your head up and down, letting your saliva lube up his cock fully while you play with his cum filled balls with one hand. you feel his dick hit your throat over and over, but you love it. “Oh baby, you’re doing so well, taking me in completely, fuckk--ahh-- keep going”, nanami’s words gave you an extra jolt of energy and you took his dick completely in, and took your tongue slightly out to lick his balls at the same time. this made him almost feral, and you started feeling his cock vibrate against your cheeks. he took your hair in his hands and tugged it roughly, making you insanely horny. “darling i'm going to come so soon, get your mouth out”, he said trying to remove your mouth from his dick. you look up, lick his precum from your lips and say, “i want you to cum in my mouth, sir.” calling him sir awakened some kink in him and he thrust his cock into your pretty fucking throat and came instantly. you looked up, swallowed all his warm cum and smiled at him.

he got you up and lifted you by your waist and sat you on his desk. “Didn't realize you were this slutty, Y/n” he mocked. “only for you, sir” you countered with a devious smile. he removed the remnant of your shirt and bra and pulled your skirt down while his mouth worked wild on your boobs, biting and sucking them, to make sure he left his mark. he took his fingers over your clothed pussy and found a wet mess down there. “So wet f’ me, pretty? It’s as if you have wanted to fuck me all this while”, he teased you. “you were not the only one looking at me every morning”, you teased back, looking deep into his almond brown eyes. he smiled and put his hands inside your lacy panties and inserted his long middle finger inside your folds while using his thumb to rub circles on your clit. “ken--” you mewl at the unknown sensation, wanting it more and more. “You like, baby?”, he asks. “yes....” you whisper in reply. he puts his finger deeper and harder, “yes who?” “yes, sir”, you gulp. “Good girl”, he said and licked your earlobes while finger fucking your wet mess of a cunt. he yanked your panties down and took his tongue at your dripping folds and licked it generously. “ohh….fuck…ahhhhh”, you breathed out, tangling your fingers in his yellow locks. he held you stable by your ass, massaging it to relax your core muscles even more. you were getting wetter by the second, having his big nose propped up against your clit while he ate your wet pussy like it was his last meal. “fuck…sir, please don't stop, oh god….” you whimper, mentally surrendering to your sexy boss sending you to heaven. he started rubbing circles on your clit suddenly and you let a sharp exhale out, feeling yourself get close. “sir, im very close…”, you mewl out. he immediately takes his tongue out, to your dismay, and faces you. “you're not allowed to cum yet, my pretty little slut”, he said gravely, sending goosebumps down your spine. he hastily flipped you around and bent you over his desk, like he had imagined every morning. he spanked your soft ass hard, watching it jiggle against his dick. “sir…” you cried out, “please fuck me..”. “So impatient”, nanami huffed. he took his tip close to your wet folds and slapped his cock against it. your frustration had you gripping the edge of the desk. you looked back at him to beg, “sir ple-”, you did not get to finish as nanami started ramming your wet fucking cunt raw, as he spanked your ass more and more. “aaah, yess sir fuckk…” you cry out in pure bliss, your legs shaking as his fat veiny cock goes all the way to your intestines. “Mmm, you like it when i fuck you dumb princess? Is this how you think about your office seniors, my slutty little minx?" nanami groaned. he lifted your chest up a little from the desk and started pinching and pulling your nipples, while still ramming you from behind. you were helplessly standing there, using your hands to balance you on the desk with your tongue hanging, legs shaking and ass jiggling under this perfect man fucking you. he continued until you both came, moans mixing together to create the most lustful amalgam of voices.

“You can wear my shirt”, he said as he saw you looking at your shirt with its buttons lost on the ground in dismay.

“thanks, kento”, you cooed as you shyly took his shirt from his hand, taking in his scent.

before you could retract your hand, he took his hands in yours and pulled you closer, “I had planned to do this the other way around, but can I please take you out tomorrow?” he asked, looking deep in your eyes. you were finally being asked out, you could hardly contain your happiness. “kento, yes wow, i would love to but…”, “but?”, “well don't you think we would be here again tomorrow getting the deadline finished?”, you said, dejectedly. “Oh wow, the deadline. Your pretty pussy got me so drunk I forgot other things even existed.” he sighed. “Well, as long as I'm spending the time with you, i don't have any complaints”, he smiled at you, a proper rare nanami kento smile, and you knew you were head over heels in love with this beautiful man.

[ljubimaya]

♱ 𝐑𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐄

"𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐢𝐭'𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞"

♱ SYNOPSIS: Informed over your grandma's declining health, you have made the decision to temporarily move away from your bustling city to a small idyllic village to take care of her. However, to your (mis)fortune, you arrived at the wrong place on the wrong time, as the mating season has just begun for werewolves; one particular werewolf having laid eyes on you, he's hellbent to make you entirely his at all cost.

♱ C/W: super plot heavy, slow burn, canon divergent, aged up characters (20+), mentions of death (no major character death), super self-indulgent, afab/ heavily fem! coded reader, werewolf! Baji, Baji has a wolf form, technically monster fucking, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, idc how tall you are Baji is significantly taller in this fic, mentions of an unnamed illness, Baji has tattoos, wolf mating behaviors, lowkey yandere Baji, reader is hinted to be ovulating, chasing, fingering, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, breeding, knotting, dubcon, Baji is super rough with you, marking, biting, blood, bruises, scars, predator-prey dynamic, loosely based off red riding hood + more tba

♱ W/C: tba

♱ A/N: wanted to write this for kinktober 2023, but things got in between... ppl that asked to be tagged almost two years ago: I hope this magically appears on your feed. Anyway, my baby fever made me do it :(( I need this man to knock me up BADLY. Also unedited, and not proofread. If it sucks, that's why lmao. The title is inspired by RUNRUNRUN by Dutch Melrose. This is my entry for my GRIMM NIGHTMARES COLLAB

Chapter One – 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

Chapter Two – 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊

Chapter Three – 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐊

Chapter Four – 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍

Chapter Five – tba

Moodboard

[daryascurse]

ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏɪꜱᴏɴ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴄʜʀɪꜱᴛᴍᴀꜱ

“Deadly to eat.” His voice is smooth velvet. “Isn’t that funny? Humans saw a parasite that can kill, and decided to call it romantic.”

“Only if you eat it, then,” you say. “Something harmless pretending to be dangerous.”

“Or something dangerous, pretending to be harmless.”

SUKUNA x READER | 3.3k | ao3 | ᴀꜰᴀʙ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ɴᴏɴɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴꜱ, ᴍɪʟᴅ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ, ʙᴇɢɢɪɴɢ ʙᴊ/ ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ɴɪᴘᴘʟᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏ, ꜱᴘᴀɴᴋɪɴɢ, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴄᴜᴍ, ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ

“You have to kiss under mistletoe,” says the little girl who materialized at your elbow. “That’s the rule.”

You take a step backwards, startled, and she just beams up at you. “Well, look.”

“Careful,” Sukuna mutters as you almost tread on his toes, and the child scowls at his low tone. Her mother swoops in and grabs her forearm, tugging the girl down the snow-dusted street with apologies tossed your way. They make their way through the thinning crowds, the streetlights throttled with green cords and illuminating bulbs.

You glance up. A cluster of frostbitten mistletoe dangles, knotted just over your head where someone’s tied it off a lamppost’s iron branch.

Sukuna’s hand is at the small of your back as you lift your fingers to touch the shriveled plant. “Careful,” he says again. “It’s poisonous.”

“Hmm?”

“Mistletoe,” Sukuna says, and you pinch the ribbon instead as you bring it closer for inspection. It’s half-black with rot and frost. The red berries glimmer, weakly reflecting the streetlight around. It’s on its last legs of life as the holiday season peaks, just a dead plant tied together with fraying ribbon.

“Poisonous?”

He lifts his hand as well, cupping the berries in his palm. “Deadly to eat.” His voice is smooth velvet. “Isn’t that funny? Humans saw a parasite that can kill, and decided to call it romantic.”

“Only if you eat it, then,” you say. “Something harmless pretending to be dangerous.”

“Or something dangerous, pretending to be harmless.”

His breath is hot in your ear and the tableau is frozen a moment; a hand at your spine, the turn of your shoulder warm against his chest, your outstretched arms embracing the same plant. You tilt your nose closer to his face.

“A weed,” Sukuna says, and suddenly snaps the ribbon clean from the iron post. "It's also called the thief of the tree."

You turn, your face burning, and can’t watch him fling the mistletoe down the street. But he offers you an elbow as you walk towards the small square at the end of the street. Blinding lights take on proper shape as you approach. Fenced trees, white with snow and dead under a layer of frost, circle the plaza. They sparkle with the same golden and green lights threaded up the trunks and through the branches. The footpath is lined with electric, brilliantly scarlet poinsettias that cast an artificially red glow along the ground. Every few minutes, the colors ripple and change hues, eliciting sounds of delight from the children in the crowd.

“Beautiful,” you hear a woman breathe to another.

And he, Sukuna, he is beautiful too, his chin buried in the cowl of his dark coat, his narrowed eyes shining like the ornaments around you. You duck your face away in a bashful smile. The warmth of his thick coat pushes into you. Streetlamps pepper your way with light, and you shiver, even with Sukuna’s body heat snug and welcome against you.

Chirp!

The winter serenity is broken by the phone beeping in your pocket.

You try to draw your arm away from Sukuna to get to it, but he clamps his elbow closer to yours with a bullish look ahead. You use your other hand to awkwardly reach across.

“Oh,” you say as you read the message. “The girls – they want to meet up a little earlier for drinks.”

“You need to get the train now?”

Sukuna’s looking straight ahead.

“No, not yet,” you say, but frown when you slip your phone away again. “I think I left my headphones at yours, though.”

Sukuna rubs the tip of his nose with his free hand, and slides it back into his pocket. You can’t read the flash in his eyes. “We’re not far.”

“I know,” you say, and give a wistful look to the romantic lights around you. “I’m sorry to leave early…”

He grunts, a response you can’t quite decipher. But he turns and leads you from the square. Slowly, with each new block, the illuminations and lights drape away to bare night streets.

It’s hot in the lobby of his building. Sukuna’s bicep flexes in release when he slides your body from his arm to push the door open and lead you to the elevator.

His boots are off. You’re shimmying free from your shoes in his foyer when he turns. He pulls his hand from his pocket and lifts it over your eyes, backing you against his closed door; the stolen mistletoe and ragged black ribbon threaded between his fingers.

“Now what did that brat say, you have to kiss underneath this?”

Sukuna dangles the mistletoe, lifting his arm. You feel the weight of your head in a nod.

“But what if I want more than a kiss?”

Your eyes skim, up to the pinch of the mistletoe in his hand, before coming back down to meet his gaze. Sukuna smirks.

His lips are on yours before you can even lean into his chest. His mouth is cold to the touch. Your fingers grab the front of his coat and his free hand slides to the small of your back, drawing you closer. His fingers are impatient and they curve to pluck under lengths of fabric, to curve his hold to your body. You breathe shakily through your nose when he breaks the kiss.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Sukuna says with a thin smile. He looks at the mistletoe, back down at you. “What else can I make you do with this?”

Your elbows are resting on his chest, your grip still against the lapels of his coat. Sukuna’s fingers push at you.

“I asked, what if I want more?”

“I’ll give it to you,” you say, your breath coming quick and jagged. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth without his own.

“Good answer,” Sukuna says. His voice is throaty, his lips spreading in a grin. The next kiss is encompassing, his arms on you, around you, to guide an entwined walk from the foyer. Light spills from the entry to the dark room. Your arms wrestle his coat free. He tosses the mistletoe somewhere down to the couch, and his hands move to his pants as your own jacket slips from your shoulders.

“Come here.”

Sukuna lifts his hips to let his pants kick down. He sits wide on the sofa, and you drop to your knees. He strokes his cock lightly in one hand, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, lazily with the other. His eyes fall down as you sit between his spread thighs.

“I want you to suck on it,” he says.

His hand is on yours to control your motions when you lean forward; back up, down, up again. He stiffens under your touch and the tip glistens as your thumb slides messily in circles. Sukuna lets go with a groan coming from his throat.

You guide him to your lips and he moans again, the sound hitching in response. The taste of him waters your mouth. He hits the back of your throat and you move back up with a slight gag.

“Mmm- ”

“That’s it, that’s it.”

Your mouth adds pressure to the rhythm, your tongue stroking along the underside of his cock until you’re sucking him, harder, harder, before gasping. Sukuna is hard and full when you put him back in your mouth. Saliva gathers, drools out over him.

“Fuck…”

You force your eyes up to see Sukuna’s lids are closed, mouth agape with elbows slung over the back of the couch. His chest rises and falls rapidly, half-bare. Slight groans slip from his lips.

As if he can feel the plead of your stare, Sukuna’s hands drop to the back of your head. His cock is ribbing over you, pushing to the back of your throat with each urge of his hand. He’s fucking your mouth more than you’re sucking him off now, his hips thrusting shallowly upwards with no mind to your struggle. Your hands fumble clumsy and blind to smear your saliva down.

Tears are beading involuntarily, leaking from your eyes as he moves you faster and faster over him. There’s that long, hard vein – and your tongue finds it, runs over it again and again.

“Oh – ”

The sound comes with an anguished force from him. The hands are pushing back now, and you lean away panting for breath. You wipe your lips with the back of your hand.

Sukuna lets out a groan like a growl, fumbling with the last buttons of his shirt. His eyes are wild on you. He tears the sleeves from his arms and he pulls you to his lap with rough hands. His mouth returns to you again, tasting his suggestion with a reverence, and the hands are busy to help you shed the layers from your own skin.

“You didn’t need mistletoe for that,” you whisper, your lip twitching in a half smile between kisses. Your nails card through his hair again, raking lower and lower, and then a hand to balance on his shoulder.

He urges your hips up a moment and your panties are off with the measured patience of someone who restrained himself from ripping the fabric from you. “Careful.”

“Why – oh – ” and as he steadies your knees over his thighs, you curl your fingers into hair with a gasp – “do you keep saying that?”

The question stutters out of you as his hands ride up around your ribs.

“Because you think everything is harmless until it bites you.”

Sukuna kisses your neck, your collarbone, down your breast where your skin pebbles cold.

“A weed… a kiss… a man.”

He bites then, pulling your nipple between his teeth with a pinch that makes you squeal. The words dissolve on your tongue.

There’s nothing slow or gentle to help slow your eager heartbeat. Sukuna dances his tongue until your nipple peaks, one hand coming to brace the small of your back to balance you, really keep you at him this time. He moves to the other with a fervor, saliva sparkling across your skin as you shake over him.

His other hand pushes into you, his finger seeking between your folds and urging your hips into position with each suggestive turn of his wrist. His finger finds your clit and begins to rub.

“Ohh – ”

It lowers you in a relentless rocking to where his cock waits, hard at the back of your thigh. The smoothness of it makes you whimper. Your muscles are tensing, relaxing when you realize you’ve been holding yourself steady for him; but then you tense again in a desperate reach for anything close to friction.

You curl your fingers into his shoulder to keep the balance as you reach with your other hand anxiously, trembling. His cock is still wet with your mouth.

“Impatient,” Sukuna murmurs.

“Maybe I should hang the mistletoe over your head,” you say, trying to angle him to you.

“You want more than a kiss from me?” His hand at your back lowers, and you’re leaning against the strong muscle of his forearm for a moment as he slaps your ass – cheekily, but with enough of a smart to make you yelp. “Didn’t you have somewhere to be soon?”

“Ah- ”

You’d forgotten, with his other hand now running a teasing finger along you to coax out the slick that opens you to him.

Sukuna’s lip curls at that, at the vacancy settled over your eyes, and he slides into you easily. From above like this, he’s pushed up so deep –

“- so d-deep…”

You’re stuttering, clutching to his shoulders with both hands now. Your thighs are clenched as you sink onto him.

“Move your hips.”

There’s an edge of impatience in his voice, choked with something thicker. Sukuna’s hands are there now, and he lets his palms run gentle massaging circles before slapping your ass with both hands now. It stings, and you bark out another cry. You push your hips back in whimpering response and spread your legs as best as you can to let your thighs and knees work and support the movements. But this dropping pushes him further inside you, and you let out another whine.

“Oh…”

“Better.”

He spanks you again as you move. His cock slides out of you a moment, back in, as you build your own unsteady rhythm. It’s unsteady because every deep, hard stroke inside makes you shake. When he thrusts his hips back up into you with a grunt, the force is so strong that your nails bite into his skin to keep you up. Sukuna moves his hands again at that and lock around your wrists.

You look down between the bars of your arms. Below your chest, his tense abdomen, his cock slides up into your body split and stretched against his width. It makes you shake just to see it, as if it defies reality to comprehend what it is you feel. You close your eyes and tilt your head back dizzyingly, shifting your hips.

“Mm… hmm… it feels so good…”

It’s easier, the more he’s in you, to rock your hips back and forth. You need to feed that desperate desire for friction, even if it grinds you raw. You’re able to move faster now, but Sukuna is still stronger, so much stronger that every stroke up into you stutters the rhythm.

He’s picking up the pace again in a way you can’t keep up with, and he’s groaning your name wildly.

“Feels – good?”

“Yes…”

“You’re… going to… leave my cum inside your cunt,” Sukuna says, his voice a low hiss, strained as he thrusts erratically, ecstatically, up inside you. His grip tightens on your wrists. “All night. With your friends. Let it sink … into your panties… all night.”

You whimper, and it makes your body shudder to hear those words rasp from his lips, wet and red with your kisses. Your back arches and you’re riding him with some new fire in you, even as your thighs tremble and your hips begin to ache.

Sukuna’s fingers are digging into your forearms, hard enough to promise a Morse code of bruises for you to read in the morning. His grip seizes; he releases to grab desperately at your hips again.

“Oh – ”

And Sukuna comes, hot and thick and roaring your name. Your inner muscles compress with clenching over his cock; the punching, dull ache behind your belly button fluttering so tantalizingly close to an orgasm as he climaxes in you. It shoots through and you moan, lifting a hand to clutch at yourself at the sensation – at your cheek, at your throat, squirming at the lewd sense of him.

Sukuna pants. His breath is hot and short as he finishes. He lets go of you, his palms giving a few, sweaty pats. His hips push back and dip into the couch and his cock begins to slide out of you with a slickness.

“Oh – “ you say, and you whimper, grabbing at him again. “Please – please not yet – I’m so close – ”

“Please?”

Sukuna looks up at you through his eyelashes, and just barely quirks his brow up. “Greedy,” he says. He makes a tongue clicking sound of mock disappointment, and pushes up and stays inside you, still heavy and still thick and warm. “Then you do the work.”

You’re so close, torturingly close, and his cool, dismissive gaze mixed with the heat of his words is almost enough to push you over the edge. You drag your shaking hands down from Sukuna’s shoulders, with skin marked with the crescent moons of your fingernails, down over his chest where his heartbeat betrays the nonchalance in his eyes.

“I want to see you touch yourself,” Sukuna says.

You push your hands against yourself. His grip has come comfortable on your hips, the strength of his wrists keeping you in balance. One of your hands hovers down, the heat of your joined bodies still radiating, the other right below your stomach. You push, gingerly, and a moan slips from you at where his cock sits within you.

When you start to force your thighs back to strength, there’s a sense of pure cream coming from you. You look down and could freeze at the sight – his cum is beginning to practically drool out of your spread folds. You rock your hips, slowly at first, and clumsy. Your body is aching for more and you begin to touch yourself, watching the grace of your fingers and feeling your clit slide beneath your touch. You look back up at Sukuna.

He’s watching beneath heavily lidded eyes, and he’s holding his jaw tight and your hips loose. True to his word – you do the work.

But how long will his stubborn pride win over his desire? His breath is coming faster and faster. You press your hand over your belly and let out a louder whimper for effect.

“Oh… Sukuna…”

No, he can’t let you keep control for long. His left hand moves back and he gives another spanking, a sharp one that makes your leg muscles clench across his body, and you yelp again. “Oh!”

“Yes,” he says.

You whine and press your finger flat against yourself. He’s moving his hips now, this time in a frenzy that makes your blood spin at how you can feel him beneath your belly. You have to drop that hand, to brace yourself for support on the couch, and then you cry out even louder when a hand shoves onto yours between your bodies. Sukuna uses your finger, manipulated under his, to push on your clit, dancing a firm pressure on and off your body.

“Come for me,” he says, his voice raspy. “Come on my cock.”

You groan, turning your head with a fevered madness next to his. “Say it again,” you breathe. “Please, say it again.”

The aching place that he pushes at is tightening.

“Please, Sukuna.”

“Do – what you’re told – and – come.”

His voice is dark and rough, as probing and insistent as his fingers. You let out a shuddering cry as it finally takes you to climax. Your orgasm pulses, throbbing and ebbing as it washes over you. He groans, fat and full within you.

“Oh,” you moan, your face in the crook of his neck.

He lets go of you, his hands sliding away.

With his grip released and offering no resistance, you lean back, bracing your arms against the couch as you climb off his lap.

Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!

Either perfectly timed, or simply within your awareness for the first time, your phone begins to sing.

“Oh,” you say again, and press your hand to your forehead. “Oh, shit. I’m going to be so late now.”

You feel sore and weak, your skin hot and sticky between your thighs. Sukuna has gleams of silver across his legs in the darkness.

“Oops,” Sukuna says in a nasty voice that offers no true apology.

He sits up, and his large fingers encircle your hand as you lean forward to fish for your phone amongst the litter of clothes.

“I meant it,” he says evenly.

“What?”

“Go see your friends. Have fun. Get all dolled up. But I want you to put those panties back on. I want you to feel that, rubbing against you and staining you the rest of the evening. I want you to smell me under your clothes. I want you filthy and mine before the whole city.”

You turn your knees towards him, your breath coming from your mouth. Sukuna reaches next to him, and lifts the mistletoe from the couch over your head once more. His eyes shine in the darkness.

“Give me another kiss.”

A/N: this is admittedly a rework/ edit from a fic i did on my old account with chrollo. merry christmas!!

[eiightysixbaby]

this is heaven, what i truly want

oliver quick x fem!reader

you’re never truly alone at saltburn. there’s always someone watching. (3.4k+)

18+ only! oral f receiving, voyeurism, unprotected piv, creampie, spit kink, use of pet names (darling, sweetheart, baby, etc.), one use of ‘sir’, cum eating (just a smidge), biting and choking (literally one brief instance of each), edging. lmk if I forgot any!

a/n: hooooo boy I wanted to try something new, so here it is! promise I’m not fully veering away from my usual stranger things content, I just desperately needed to write some filth for ollie 🤭 hope you enjoy!! I proofread this a couple times but if there’s mistakes iM SORRY. my closing statement: I can fix him your honor.

Watched. For days you’ve felt like you’re being watched. Carefully, closely, tracking your every move. Maybe the walls have eyes, who knows with a place as eccentric as this. All of the ornate fixtures and ancient paintings do have a bit of an eery, haunting feel to them.

Or perhaps it’s just because you aren’t used to having housekeepers around at all hours of the day. Duncan has always been off-putting; every summer you’ve spent at Saltburn throughout your life there’s been an energy about him that’s made the hair on your neck stand up.

Regardless, you’ve tried to shake off the feeling, wondering if you were finally losing your mind. Because here, with Felix and Venetia, Elspeth and James and Farleigh — you’re safe. They’re lifelong family friends who, as strange as they may be at times, make you feel secure. Nobody would have any business spying on you.

But oh, you should’ve known better.

You slip out of the large clawfoot tub, bare feet planting themselves on the white tile floor. Water drips from your body, the tiniest puddle forming at your feet. Grabbing your towel, you begin to dry your body with the soft fabric. You hum softly to yourself, reaching for your satin robe where it hangs by the vanity. For a moment you think you hear something, the tiniest creaking sound, and you move to look around the unnecessarily large bathroom. It’s dark in the corners where the light doesn’t quite reach, but even squinting you see nothing out of the ordinary.

You’re fucking losing it, you mentally scold yourself. It’s an old house, it’s going to make noise.

You lean against the vanity, palms flat on the marble countertop. Letting out a heavy sigh, your head hangs low, eyes closed. Get it together.

When you’ve finally steadied your breathing, you look back up to greet yourself in the mirror. You work your hairbrush through your wet hair, taking care to untangle any knots. The feeling won’t go away, your defenses raised. Eyes on you. There’s someone watching. There has to be.

You see him in the mirror before you actually see him.

Turning on your heel, a loud gasp escapes you. Your heart pounds behind your rib cage, your eyes focusing in on the figure lurking in the dark hallway. The bathroom door is open a crack, eyes you know to be blue piercing through you.

Oliver.

“What the fuck, Ollie!?” you shout, watching as he slips fully into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

You retreat, back pressing against the counter behind you. He stalks calmly towards you, caging you in. You swallow, unable to stop the way your eyes study his muscular frame, his tank top clinging tight to his torso.

“Now now,” he says, soft and steady. “We don’t want the whole house to wonder what’s up, do we?”

“What are you doing here?” you grit, nostrils flaring as you exhale heavily. Your posture stiffens, tense under his chilling gaze. “Why were you watching me?”

“Don’t act so offended, darling,” he says, stepping so close that your chests nearly touch. “Do you think I don’t see the way you look at me?”

Your lips part, breath hitching in your throat. It’d be a filthy lie to act as if you haven’t been admiring him since he first arrived, under Felix’s wing like a timid little animal. Something about him has captivated you, intrigued you, lured you in. He’s just so quiet, so skittish. So beautiful.

Being as close to family as you could get, you didn’t want to make things awkward by putting the moves on Felix’s friend, so you avoided him when you could. But that only made things more unbearable for you. Many a night was spent with your hand between your thighs, softly crying his name into your dark bedroom. Imagining he was there with you. He couldn’t know about that… could he?

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” you say, looking up at him defiantly. Lying through your teeth. You should know he can practically smell the nervousness on you.

It’s cute that you think he’d buy this.

“Oh, save the games, sweetheart,” he tuts, taking a final step closer to you. His chest fully pressed against yours now, his face dipping forward until his mouth is right beside your ear. “I know you touch yourself at night, stretching open that pretty little cunt, wishing it was me.”

Fucking hell.

“Did you really think you could be slick? Think I wouldn’t catch the way you stare at me all of the time, think I wouldn’t figure you out?”

“How long have you been watching me?” you ask quietly, your voice meek now.

“Not any longer than you’ve been watching me.”

“I haven’t—” you start, but he presses a finger to your lips, quieting you. He raises a brow, as if to say ‘Do you really want to go there?’

God, you were so stupid. Staring at him any chance you got; looking out your window at him while he’d lounge shirtless by the pool, or peering through his cracked bedroom door one evening after dinner in hopes of seeing him changing. You were sick. And here you are, chastising him.

You keep your gaze directly on his, feeling your heart rate increase under the scrutiny of those piercing, gorgeous blue eyes. He gently holds your chin, keeping you focused on him as he studies your face.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, letting his free hand come to rest on your waist. You’re reminded then that you’re only in a robe, and suddenly your skin feels like it’s ablaze.

“Oliver—” you start, your eyes big and pleading as you stare at him. What exactly you’re hoping for you don’t know, you just want him to do something.

His gaze flits to your lips, his tongue poking out to wet his own. Leaning in, his mouth ghosts over yours, barely grazing your waiting pout. He pulls back, teasing, and you chase him. Seeking out his lips until he gives in, one hand on your lower back, holding you against him as he kisses you roughly. His tongue licks into your eager mouth, swirling around yours, tasting you. It feels as though you’re nearly devouring each other, teeth clashing as your hands reach up to tangle themselves in his hair.

You whine, a high-pitched and pretty thing when he lets his mouth find your neck, sucking harsh on the delicate skin. Rolling your hips against his, you can feel the bulge straining in his boxers and he groans at the sudden friction.

“Ol— Ollie, please,” you beg, for what it isn’t clear, but he removes his lips from your pulse point to look at you.

“Such a needy little thing you are,” he says, regarding you down the bridge of his nose. “And to think five minutes ago you were acting like I wasn’t welcome in here…”

You chew at your bottom lip, thighs pressing together involuntarily at the way he speaks to you. His tone is ultimately patronizing, and you’d have no complaints if he spoke to you like this all of the time.

He dips his head back down, this time kissing over your collarbone. Every inch of skin he kisses seems to ignite, electricity coursing through your veins. He unties the fabric belt securing your robe around your front, letting it instead fall open for him. You’re completely bare beneath the black silky fabric, and you watch the way his eyes trail down your figure. He studies you like you’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen, and there’s an insatiable hunger behind that stunning blue. He’d eat you whole if it were possible.

Continuing his descent, he takes the nipple of your right breast into his mouth, kneading the left with his hand. You gasp, tipping your head back as his tongue rolls over the sensitive little bud, sucking on it. He diverts his mouth’s attention to the other side, then, making sure he gives equal attention to each of your tits. You can feel yourself throb for him, nearly dripping at your core in anticipation.

“Such pretty tits,” he mumbles, lips trailing against your skin. He lets his face linger between them for a moment, caressing them with soft hands.

Your mind wanders as he works his way down, kissing down your stomach, nipping at your hips. You wonder how often he’s spied on you without you catching him — exactly how many times he’s seen you touch yourself to the thought of him. It only drives you further up the wall; picturing him peering through a crack in your bedroom door on nights where you’d lay completely bare on your bed, pleasuring yourself to thoughts of his fingers and tongue. He’s sick, you’re sick, and maybe you’re perfect for each other.

You’re brought entirely back to the present when you feel his breath fanning against your cunt, his eyes peering up at you from where he rests on his knees. He doesn’t break eye contact as he brings two fingers up to swipe through your folds, collecting your slick. You shiver, mouth agape as he brings those fingers to his mouth, sucking your sweet honey from them.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet for me, darling. And you taste so sweet,” he murmurs, pressing his face against your mound. He inhales, the tip of his nose nudging at your clit, making your hips jerk slightly. “Smell even sweeter,” he praises. He’d bottle up your scent and wear it like cologne if it were possible, anything to feel close to you all of the time.

His lips part, hot breath fanning against your exposed cunt as he collects himself. You feel his tongue lick a delicate stripe up through your folds, a barely-there sensation, but it makes your back arch regardless.

“Oliver,” you moan, tangling your fingers in his hair.

You hear him exhale in a smug laugh before you feel his tongue again. He’s far more intentional this time, letting it lap up your juices from every crevice. You tug hard on his hair when you feel the wet muscle breach your entrance, lewd slurping sounds coming from the way he pleasures you. His strong hands grip your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin, keeping you right where he wants you.

It feels like you’re levitating, ascending to a higher realm as he licks and sucks at your pretty, glistening pussy. He allows his mouth to focus on your clit, teeth grazing it in a greedy little nip before he soothes the area with his velvety tongue. You’re seeing stars when you feel two of his fingers slip generously inside of you, scissoring within your walls.

“Oh— oh my god,” you whine, your eyes pinching shut as you tip your head back.

“That’s right, baby — I’m your God. Worship me like I’m your God,” he growls, in a different headspace entirely.

While he’s usually so soft-spoken and polite, in this moment he’s cocky; more confident than you thought he’d ever be. You can’t fault him for it, though, because you do want to worship him. You want to get on your knees and pray for him.

Weeks of yearning, lusting after him from afar have come to fruition. Your longing now seeps out of you, with his eager mouth to swallow it all. He fucks his fingers harder into you, curling into your sweet spot as his tongue flicks rapidly back and forth over your sensitive bud.

The thing is, it’s been weeks of yearning on his end, too. This place, warm and wet between your thighs, is his altar — his holy ground. He wants to worship you just as much as he wants you to worship him. He’s dreamt of what you would taste like, how you’d suck him right in, and now that he has you he never wants to let you go.

“Fuck, Ollie, don’t stop,” you plead, letting loud rhythmic moans fall from your lips. At this point you don’t care if the entire house hears you; so fucking be it if they do. You know Farleigh would love something to gossip about; what better topic than how Oliver gave you a religious experience right under this massive roof?

Reading your mind, he speaks from his spot between your legs. “So fuckin’ loud, darling. You want everyone to hear us? To hear how good I make you feel?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” you pant, grinding down on his fingers, nearly humping his face.

He hopes in his twisted mind that someone is listening. Hearing him claim you, mark you as his. He shakes his head back and forth, tongue laying flat as it swipes over your clit messily. You can feel yourself about to let go, to come completely undone for him.

But he can sense it, he can see it on your face that you’re so deliciously close to release, and he’s not having it yet.

Your brows furrow when he removes his fingers from your cunt, pulling his mouth away as well. You’re about to protest, about to plead with him to keep going, but he’s standing and pressing his lips to yours before you can get a word out.

There’s a painful ache in your core, and you can feel yourself still soaking wet for the man before you. His teeth bite at your bottom lip, tugging on it while he studies you with half-lidded eyes. He rolls his hips against yours and you can feel his excitement, his cock stiff in his boxers.

You paw at the waistband, attempting to free him from his confines, desperate to feel him. His fingers wrap around your wrists, stopping them from getting any closer to his cock.

“Don’t get greedy, sweetheart,” he warns. “I call the shots.”

He grabs you by the waist, encouraging you to sit on the counter behind you. You jump with his assistance, your skin cold where it rests on the marble surface.

His lips latch onto your neck once more, sucking on delicate skin, leaving tender bruises. He takes his sweet time, drawing out your agony as your arousal drips down your thighs. Pitiful whimpers crawl their way out of your throat, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access. He nips at the skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, licking the stinging spot afterwards to calm the ache. His thumbs tease your nipples, palms squeezing your breasts and making your back arch into him.

He removes one hand, reaching down to discard his boxers onto the floor. Finally, he grips his weeping cock in his fist, thumb running over the angry red tip. You gasp at the size of him, letting your eyes take in every inch, every vein. Committing him to memory.

“So fucking big, Ollie,” you murmur, reaching a tentative hand out, running a fingertip gently along his shaft. You’re almost surprised he lets you, and you don’t miss the way his jaw clenches in an attempt to keep his composure.

His large, warm palms move to your thighs, parting them for him. His tongue pokes out to lick his lips at the sight of you spread open for him, completely bare and wet with both his saliva and your arousal. In a moment of boldness, you pull him to you by the chain around his neck, your tongue instantly finding its way into his mouth. He exhales heavily, your tongues licking fervently into each other’s mouths, lips grazing.

You register the feeling of him lining his cock up at your entrance, the tip pressing against your folds. He slips inside, a groan leaving his lips as a shrill moan of his name leaves yours. The way he stretches you is bliss, there’s no other word for it. Pleasure that just barely teeters on the edge of pain, his cock reaching spots inside of you that your fingers could only hope to. He dips his head slightly, trailing kisses along your jawline until he reaches your ear, biting at the lobe. He starts with slow, calculated thrusts, his fingers digging harshly into your hips.

Your breathing is ragged, sinful sounds leaving you over and over as he starts to fuck you faster.

“Bet I feel so much better than your fingers, hm? Is this what you wanted all along? My cock stretching you out?” he asks, voice breathy and low. His words send shockwaves right to your core, turning you on even further.

“Yes, god, yes. Thought about this every night, Ollie. Wished you’d sneak into my room and have your way with me,” you confess, your cheeks growing warm as he smirks at you.

“Dirty little girl,” he tsks, letting his forehead rest against yours, fucking into you hard and fast.

The sounds of skin on skin mix with his pretty noises and yours; grunts and whines and sighs that reverberate off of the walls. Your nails claw at his shoulders, grounding yourself as his cock drives into your sweet spot again and again and again. Your eyes go wide when you watch him dip his head, spitting down onto your pussy, adding to the slippery mess that you’ve already created.

When he looks back up at you, your lips are parted in awe, your eyes begging for him to give you more. Spit in my mouth, please, is the unspoken cry that he understands instantly.

He grabs your face in one hand, squishing your cheeks hard enough that your lips part further. Your eyes roll back into your skull as he lets a string of saliva fall into your waiting mouth, his fingers tapping the bottom of your chin twice, encouraging you to close your mouth and swallow. You do as he wants, willing to swallow whatever he’d give you.

“Such a good girl,” he praises, slowing his thrusts briefly, giving you long and passionate strokes before returning to his previous quick pace.

“Oliver, oh my god,” you cry for him, your eyes screwing shut. “Feels so good, don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.”

You can feel your previously staved-off orgasm approaching once more, the coil in the pit of your gut tightening more and more with each snap of his hips against yours.

“You getting close, baby?” he asks, letting his fingers wrap around your throat and squeeze. It gets the reaction he wants, your eyes snapping open and focusing on him. “That’s right, you look at me when I’m making you feel this good,” he instructs, letting go of your neck. “Otherwise, you don’t get to cum.

“Y-yes sir,” you comply. “Please make me cum, I’m so fucking close, Ollie, need it so bad,” you beg, making sure to keep your eyes on his. That stunning, icy blue pierces through your soul, sending a chill down your spine. His stare is intimidating, raising the hairs on your neck just as it did each time you weren’t quite sure who was watching you.

He bites down hard on your shoulder, rutting into you faster and faster until you’re finally tumbling over the edge. Your orgasm hits you in overwhelming waves, your walls clenching tight around his thick length.

“Oliver, Oliver, Oliver,” you chant his name, a prayer being raised to the sky as he shows you pure ecstasy.

His movements don’t slow, his lips greedily sucking at your neck before making their way back to your mouth.

“Gonna let me cum inside you sweetheart?” he asks between desperate kisses, your instantaneous nod nearly embarrassing.

“Please cum inside me, need your fucking cum, Ollie,” you respond, lips brushing against his. “Fill me up, make me yours.”

He groans low at your words, eyelids fluttering closed as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. Warm, thick ropes of his cum paint your walls, shuddering breaths leaving him as his head tips back.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he moans, giving you every drop that he has, continuing to rut into you until he’s completely milked dry.

Heavy breaths fill the room, his spent cock slipping out of you, leaving the mixture of your arousals to drip out and onto the floor. Trying to catch your breath, you watch in shock as he drops to his knees once more.

“What are you… what are you doing?” you ask, a sly smile on his face as he looks up at you.

“Just making sure you’re properly cleaned up, is all. Can’t have you going to bed like this,” he muses, collecting some of the sticky mixture with a quick swipe of his tongue. “Just lean back and relax, darling. Got to make up for all those nights you spent alone.”

[dadfag]

𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐓! adult. they/he. enfp. queer. painful optimist.

ㅤㅤ ⁰⁰¹ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍. ㅤㅤㅤ⁰⁰² 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐃.ㅤㅤ⁰⁰³ 𝐀𝐎𝟑. ㅤㅤ⁰⁰⁴ 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒.ㅤ

「 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒. . .」 sleepin' 「 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍. . .」 fuck if i know 「 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎. . .」 my love, mine all mine by mitski

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 ! must be 18+ to follow and interact. transmedicalists, minors, and thinspo blogs DNI.

[mysticheroine]

ON WRITING HIATUS

‎‧₊˚✧ lu. twenty-two. she/they. ✧˚₊‧

― this blog contains (n)sfw content. minors dni.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚  masterlist.                ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ rules / byf.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ lu’s loves.                  ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ tags.

― recent posts

multi character drabble

© 2024 mysticheroine. do not copy any of my writing, translate, or repost onto any other sites.

[daisynik7]

Nanami is super into fucking you with his watch on. 

He’ll strip himself completely nude except for his wrist, his fingers massaging your puffy clit until you’re whining against him, already on the brink of an orgasm just from that. He checks the minute hand on his watch, taking a mental note on when you first climax. It’s a fun little challenge he sets for himself: how many times can he make you come within fifteen minutes? Half an hour? A full hour? Sometimes, he takes guesses, and most of the time, he’s right. And when he's wrong, it’s because he makes you come more than he expects you to. Tonight is one of those times. 

He's relentless with his fingers, stroking your pussy up and down, in and out, coated in your arousal. He loves playing with your swollen bud, flicking it until you’re squirming from overstimulation. The slick that gushes out of you is so pretty, all shiny and glossy for him. So inviting for a taste. But no; he’ll resist until he can make you come once more from his fingers. Get you completely soaked so it’s juicy for his mouth. He knows just how much you love coming with his soft lips puckered around your clit, his tongue lapping at your greedy cunt, gaping and desperate to be filled with his cock. By the time thirty minutes pass, you’ve come twice from his fingers, and thrice from his mouth, eating you out sloppily until your limbs feel shaky, body spent but still so needy for him. 

When he finally puts his dick inside you, he uses his watch for another purpose: to edge you so that you can fucking squirt all over him. He pounds into your tight pussy from behind, slamming his hips against your ass, marveling at the way it jiggles with each thrust. You’re moaning from the pleasure, completely fucked out. You want to come again so badly, but he won’t let you. “Not yet,” he growls, turning his wrist to inspect the time. “Be a good girl for ten more minutes, okay? Hold it for me sweetheart. I know you can do it.”

And of course you will, because he’s so encouraging, so sweet, so fucking big inside you, filling you to the brim. When the ten minutes is almost up, he reaches around you, toying with your sensitive clit. You whine, twitching from the sensation, head buried into the pillow, damp with sweat and drool. He leans over you, breath hot on your ear, whispering, “That’s it, honey. Let it all out for me. Make a fucking mess.” 

So you do, spraying him in your juices, spilling onto the sheets below you. He absolutely loves it, seeing you so filthy like this. It’s just what he needs to reach his own orgasm, the one he’s been building up since an hour ago, continuously on the brink ever since your first climax. He comes inside you, stuffing you full of his creamy load only to watch it dribble out slowly as soon as he pulls out. 

His watch is soaked in your essence, but that’s alright. In fact, it’s exactly what he wanted. 

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Loyalty is Hot - Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Request: "I was hoping for a fic where Reader is Adam's third wife and they meet Lucifer (maybe in a meeting?) and he states how he could take Reader from Adam as well. Adam is kind of internally panicking as Lucifer states what it took to take his other two wives until Reader gets all fed up and rudely puts him in his place. Causing Adam to get all hot and bothered for his wifey and their loyalty?"

Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, praise kink, creampie, semi-public sex (they fuck in a meeting room), Adam being himself, creampie, slight angst, SMUT, MDNI

You hated meetings, or waking up for them more specifically. It seemed that every time your husband dragged you to one it was at the earliest time possible, a time you'd much rather be spending in bed with him, enjoying the time of day where Heaven was at its most peaceful. It was also the time of day when Adam, sleepy and in a loving mood, was least annoying (which pained you a bit to admit, especially considering how much you loved him.)

"Hey! Wake the fuck up, babe! Don't fall asleep on me, not here." Adam nearly shouted, gently poking at you before you fell asleep on his shoulder in the meeting room. You opened your eyes with a sigh, keeping your head rested against your husband.

"Who are we even meeting with? More importantly, why haven't they shown up yet? It's been at least an hour," You questioned, a rising annoyance in your voice. Adam had sprung this meeting on you at the literal last minute, saying something along the lines of 'I need to show off my hot-as-fuck wife,' before practically dragging you out of bed; no more information given. Being the good wife you were, you accompanied him, albeit with some complaining. The last thing you were expecting, however, was for the meeting to be in Hell.

"We're meeting with Lucifer," He explained, the wide grin on his face shown on his mask. "I can't wait to see that fucker's face when he sees how sexy you are and realizes that you're all mine." One of his hands moved down to place itself on your thigh as he leaned in, smirking. "Who knows, maybe I'll even bend you over and fuck you right here on this table while he—"

You glared at him, smacking his hand away with a hiss of his name. He drew it back, letting out an amused laugh. "We are here on business," You reprimanded, an upset frown on your face. "Could you at least save the horny talk for after the meeting? Y'know when we're not in Hell?" Despite your reaction, you had to admit that the idea your husband had conjured up was kinda hot when you thought about it more in depth.

Fuck, you could see it now, feel it even. Back pressed against the table while your husband loomed over you, beautiful golden eyes staring into yours as you spread your legs for him. His thick cock sinking into you slowly, only for him to start with a quick, animalistic pace–just the way you liked it. Fuck, and the way his hands would reach out, grabbing at whatever he could; your ass, tits, thighs, anything that was soft and grabbable.

You hadn't realized the blush that had spread across your face until you saw your husband's smug grin. "Awww, did that turn you on, baby?" He cooed, almost mockingly. "Remember what you said, 'Save it for after the meeting.' Can't jump on me just quite yet." He leaned back in his chair, the grin on his face only growing as you shot him a harsh glare. As much of a lover of sex as he was, Adam loved teasing you even more.

You opened your mouth to argue back at him, slightly embarrassed by his use of your own words against you, but you were cut off by the sound of the door opening and closing. You turned your head, spotting the King of Hell himself. He looked just the way Adam had always described: pale white skin, rosy red cheeks, golden hair, noseless, and short. So short.

You stood from your seat as Lucifer approached the table, the sound of his boots against the tile of the floor filling the otherwise large, quiet room. You smiled, holding out a hand to shake, your typical behavior for business matters, regardless of who it was. "Hello, Your Majesty," You greeted politely, earning an eye roll from your husband next to you.

Lucifer returned your smile with one of his own, taking your hand and shaking it. "Who might this beautiful angel be, Adam?" He questioned, pressing a light kiss to your hand before letting it go and sitting down. Adam smirked as you sat back in your seat next to him, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you in close; not letting his annoyance at Lucifer's small display of affection be visible on his face.

"This is (Y/N), my wife. She's gorgeous, isn't she? A real hottie. Did I mention she's my wife?" He introduced, taking pride in having you by his side. Lucifer glanced at you, looking unamused by Adam's obvious boast before smiling at you. "Well, I certainly hope she's happy with you. Y'know, considering your history with your other wives." He antagonized, covering it up with a polite tone.

Adam's smile faltered. A sensitive topic had been brought up, one that challenged your husband's confidence. You looked between the two, taking note of how they glared at each other with mutual hatred. Lucifer turned his attention fully onto you, leaning in slightly. "Tell me, dear. Does he even satisfy you? Are you happy with him?" You opened your mouth slightly in shock, taken back by the sudden, blunt questioning.

"Fuck you! Of course she's happy with me!" Adam growled. "She's not like those last two bitches who'd settle for you of all people, you short fuck." Despite his assertion, you could hear the doubt in his voice, like he was trying to convince himself of it, too. Lucifer grinned, sharp teeth on full display, not affected whatsoever by your husband's burst of anger.

"It's not my fault that your wives like me better, Adam," Lucifer replied snidely. "All it took for Lilith was a man who did more than the bare minimum, and as for Eve, all it took was giving her a choice of who she wanted to be with for once, and that someone certainly wasn't you."

Lucifer then motioned to you. "I wonder what it'll take for me to win your third wife over, probably not much, to no fault of her own. You're probably leaving her just as unhappy as you did the last two, Adam." You watched as Adam tensed up at Lucifer's words, any confidence now gone as he struggled to keep up his self-absorbed facade.

"T-Thats not true," He stuttered, one of the few times you had ever seen him do so in all of the years you had known him. The drop in Adam's demeanor was the final straw, and you calmly got up from your seat. Both men's eyes followed you, watching your movements closely. Even with the mask on his face, you could see the fear in your husband's eyes as he watched you approach Lucifer.

"Honey? Baby?" Adam called out to you, watch as your face morphed into one of pure anger; a sight that even scared the King of Hell himself. They both knew that you were far from happy, and that was never a good thing.

"First of all, Lucifer," You hissed, saying his name with pure malice. "I am not Lilith, nor am I Eve. I may have been created with the same purpose in mind, but let it be known that we are far from similar." You slowly got closer to him, almost like a predator stalking its prey in the most terrifying way possible. "Second of all, yes I am happy. Clearly happier with Adam than Lilith was with you, considering how she up and left you and went only God knows where. I also don't see Eve around."

Lucifer's smile fell for the first time that day, and with it, his pride. Adam watched in astonishment as you continued to put Lucifer in his place. "Finally, I need you to understand that you're far from being my type. You're a coward who barely governs his people, yet so proudly calls himself the boss. Then you waltzed in here acting like you knew me better than I know myself, even when we had just met. I love Adam with every fiber of my being, even if he's the most obnoxious jackass I've ever met."

You got even closer, causing Lucifer to lean back in an attempt to escape you. "Oh, and for the record—" You leaned into his ear. "Adam fucks me better than I'm sure you've ever fucked anyone else in your pathetic life. So, yes, he does satisfy me." You whispered. You pulled back suddenly, a smile on your face. "Is that understood?"

Lucifer gulped, nodding in reply. "Lovely." You grinned, moving back to Adam. "Now, I'm afraid we're out of time. We'll have to reschedule this meeting for another day, preferably with someone else. Maybe you can send someone in your stead? Someone who's more politically involved in your Kingdom's workings, perhaps."

Lucifer let out an awkward laugh, standing up before making his way to the door, mumbling something about how we would send his daughter instead next time, before leaving. You stood triumphant, hands on your hips as you watched his departure.

"I—" Adam began, almost at a loss for words. "Are you aware how fucking hot that was!? Holy shit—" He pulled you down into his lap, pulling his mask off before crashing his lips against yours, kissing you eagerly. He pulled you down by the hips, grinding you against him, causing you to feel his growing hard-on through the fabric of his robes. "Fuck–Please, I know you said we have to wait, but please please please let me fuck you right here. Need you now."

You grinded down, a moan escaping both of you. "Why don't you do what you said you'd do earlier, hmm? Fuck me right here on this table, Adam." He bent you over the table, and you let him pull your skirt up just enough for him to be able to then tug your underwear off, tossing it aside somewhere in the room.

"Impatient today, aren't you, hon?" You teased playfully, looking back to find him not even bothering to take off his robes, choosing to pull them up instead. He chuckled, placing his hands on your hips as he lined himself up with your entrance. "Seeing you put annoying little fucks like Lucifer in their place does things to me, baby." He purred, thrusting in.

You let out a gasp at the feeling, his thick cock stretching you out perfectly. His pace was quick from the start, hips snapping against yours as the sound of it all filled the room. "I bet Lucifer couldn't fuck you like this now, could he? No, you need a real man to show you who you belong to." Adam groaned, kissing and nipping at your neck.

"H-He could never," You stuttered, struggling to speak as your mind went foggy from pleasure. "I need—Oh, fuck!" You let out a cry as his fingers found your clit, rubbing at it. "That's a good girl, let all those pretty little noises out." He praised, the sound of your moans more beautiful than any Heavenly choir to him.

"You're so much better than those other whores," He moaned, pounding into you, eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy. "My perfect fucking wife, the love of my life—Shit—" He let out a growl as you clenched down on him. He let out a sweet laugh, hands moving up to grab at your tits while he fucked into you. "Oh? The praise turns you on, huh? You should be honored to receive it from me."

A mix of your moans and his spread throughout the room as you both drew closer to your climaxes, your shared noises growing louder and louder by the second. "Fuck," He cursed, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he rutted into you. "Gonna cum, 'm gonna fill you up. Maybe I'll even put a baby in you just to show Lucifer how in love with me you are."

"Do it—" You begged, legs quivering as he angled his cock in just the right way for the tip to graze your sweet spot. "Cum inside me Adam, let them know that I'm yours. All yours—A-Adam!" Your orgasm hit you with sudden force, the feeling coursing through you.

"Yesyesyes! Feels so fucking good cumming around me—" The sensation of your pussy contracting around him during your orgasm pushed him over the edge, and he came, shooting thick ropes of cum deep inside of you.

You rested your face against the table, no longer able to hold yourself up by your arms after the energy your climax had used up. Your orgasm subsided, but your body still shook, lightly trembling from the enjoyable onslaught it had just endured. You took deep breaths as Adam pulled out of you, feeling his cum leaking out of your well-fucked cunt.

He pressed soft kisses to your neck, holding you as you both basked in your post-orgasmic bliss together. "I love you," He mumbled against your neck, smiling. "You seriously have no idea how grateful I am for you to be my wife. You're absolute perfection, sweetheart." He pulled himself off of you, sitting back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face. "You think some sinner scum is gonna have to clean our mess up? That shit would be hilarious."

You sighed, shooting him a harsh look that he only laughed at. "Adam," You warned. "Have some respect, would you?" He laughed again, pulling you down into his lap, grinning. "Respect? Baby, we just screwed in a fancy meeting room. We are past the point of failing to show respect."

He leaned in closer to you, mischief in his golden eyes. "Now, why don't we go for a round two?"

[the-isekai-ninja]

»»--【Caught】--««

♔Pairing | Kakashi x Fem!Reader ♔Content | Breeding, Edging, Slight Humiliation, Oral (m+f!receiving), Body Worship, Overstimulation, Breeding, Masturbation, Cumplay, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Cervix Mention, Slight Dacryphilia, Deepthroating, Pet names (Kakashi calls you Princess), Kakashi and reader take turns being the dominant one. 99% Kakashi POV except a few scenes, reader is a powerful ninja and Kakashi uses that to fuel his fantasies, Use of “you” to describe reader, no Y/N mention, Kakashi has a big dick and you choke on it, not beta read, seriously this is insanely filthy and has very little plot/non-sex scenes ♔Word Count | 11k (sorry i was ovulating) ♔Synopsis| Kakashi decides to have some fun on his day off. You decide to have the worst timing in the world to visit him. Things go terribly wrong for him from there. And then go terribly right.

Kakashi was not a pure man. Everyone knew that, himself included. The blood he spilled and his cruel nicknames a reminder of that. But this current state of impurity he was partaking in was really taking the cake. 

Getting called a pervert for reading erotica fiction was one thing, but if people knew what he thought about behind closed doors he was pretty sure he'd be on the chopping block next to Jiraiya. 

He sighs as he releases his hardened cock from his hand. His thighs twitching from the pressure he had just built up. Everything in his body was thrumming with desperation to release but Kakashi had been practicing enough today to prevent himself the satisfaction of cumming from this particularly taxing masturbation session. If he counted, it would have been the fourth time he had teased himself out of an orgasm today and the high he was feeling was euphoric.

He couldn't help himself, especially with you away on a lengthy mission. Over the few years he had gotten to know you through his genin team you had managed to worm your way into his heart, and he would rather die than let you know that. However, his long term crush on you had bubbled inside his chest while you were away and early this morning after confirming he had nothing to do today he had started to imagine how you would be underneath him. Railing into your warm heat as you babble his name with tears stinging your eyes from the intense pleasure.

He would kiss the tears away as he pounds harshly into you, reaching impossibly deep inside your cunt, hitting all the right places to make you a mess for him. He wanted to fuck you full of his cum so badly, your legs resting on his shoulders as he folds you in half to make sure his seed takes. 

Kakashi's imagination drifts off to another fantasy to start himself up again, you sitting politely between his legs, panting like a dog in heat as you nuzzle against his inner thigh and paw at his cock. A pretty collar with your name bedazzled on it and his name engraved on the back. Just so everyone knew who you belonged to.

With the fantasy solidified in his head, Kakashi slowly slides his hands down his naked chest, teasing himself with gentle touches he would prefer to be giving you. His breath hitches slightly as one hand finally reaches his cock while the other rests comfortably on his inner thigh.

He moves slowly, up and down, smearing some of his pre-cum over his hyper sensitive cock to get himself slick enough for his next session. He imagines you rubbing your cheek against his dick, asking if you have permission to suck it for him. He takes the hand on his inner thigh and moves to cup his balls, teasing them as he fucks his other hand. 

He hadn't known how great edging would feel but the thought of releasing all of his built up spend into your waiting mouth is too much for him. He's positive this will be the last time today, he's about to explode from pleasure. He swears he'll have to find time to do this again, god it feels good.

A sudden knock on his front door halts all thoughts. The pleasure he was indulging in suddenly feels dirty as he’s astutely aware of himself lying in his bed, all clothes off as he strokes himself to near completion. He’s sweaty and over stimulated and now an uneasy feeling of guilt starts to sit uncomfortably in his lower gut. Who could possibly be here? Gai was gone with you on your mission and everyone else wouldn't dare bother him on his one day off. 

Unless….oh no.

He hurriedly puts on some clothes, sweatpants that do nothing to hide his throbbing erection and his mask and tank-top combo. He’s far too sensitive, the tight shirt rubbing against his chest a stark reminder of how horny he currently is. 

He hears the knocking again along with an all too familiar voice that definitely should not be in Konoha right now. 

He places his lower half behind the door and cracks it open very slightly to get a peak at his worst nightmare come true.

“Hey!”

No. 

“Hey, you're back early.”

Why are you back early?

You stand behind the door, hands closed behind your back as you rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. You’re still in uniform, compression shorts hugging your thighs and slightly riding up. It's unreasonably attractive with how horny he is and his cock twitches against his sweats. He shifts to try and stop his dick from rubbing against the fabric but it only makes the situation worse. You look up to meet him in the eyes and you are far too excited to see him.

Kakashi knows he's unlucky but this situation is a new level of unfortunate embarrassment. Jacking off to someone only to have them suddenly appear at his door? If you two were dating this would be an entirely different story but right now you're looking up at him with a bright smile, completely oblivious to the filthy thoughts he had just been conjuring up about you. He feels guilty. And incredibly horny. 

“Ya, the mission went off without a hitch, working with Gai and Yamato made things pretty easy. Those two are pretty talented when they aren't talking my ear off.”

Kakashi's eye twitches, just hearing Gai’s and Tenzo’s names come out of your mouth when he was so close to cumming makes some of his lust addled brain simmer a bit. The last thing he wants to do right now is picture those two with you. Alone. For an entire week. Probably sharing a bed, clothes thrown everywhere, cuddling for warmth…

He inhales loudly.

You tilt your head to the side as Kakashi remains silent, staring down at you with one eye. God you’re so cute…

“Kakashi, is everything okay? You look a little sweaty?” You take a step towards him to place a hand on his forehead but he flinches back. If you touch him at all he thinks he might explode. The last thing he needs is to cum in his pants in front of you. You might never speak to him again if he does. 

Kakashi knows he's sweating profusely and the way his pants rub against his cock is not helping his worsening situation. He has to make you leave as soon as possible so he can get rid of his problem for good. He was never edging himself this long again. 

Kakashi moves to close the door, “Sorry, I'm fine. I think I may just be a bit under the weather is all. You should g-”

You stick a foot between the door to stop him from closing it on you. “What? How did you get sick? Are you okay? Do you have food? Medicine? Is it from chakra exhaustion?”

Kakashi groans, the only sick he feels is love sick and he needs you gone so he can deal with it. He should have known you would be too concerned to let it go at that. You were too nice to him. His cock twitches. 

He pushes back on the door slightly, “I'm fine, really, I think I just need to sleep it off.” 

You pout at his insistence before pushing your way in. Kakashi is too horny to fully fight back so all he can do is muffle a moan as he shifts to hide his hard on.

“You're too hard on yourself Kakashi, it's okay to let others take care of you sometimes.”

What he wouldn't give for you to take care of him right now, but as he watches you make your way into his kitchen the last remnants of his sanity are screaming at him to get you out of his apartment. 

“Uhh, ya sure. If you insist on taking care of me I'm just going to…go to bed…”

Smooth one Hatake. He hears you hum in response and he makes a dash for his bedroom and slams the door shut. He tears away at his shirt and mask before shoving a hand down his pants to relieve some of the built up tension. He moans a little too loudly as his hand squeezes his dick and he prays you didn't hear it. 

He moves to his bed and ducks under the covers as quickly as possible. He grabs a tissue from the shelf above his bed and wraps it around the base of his cock as he strokes himself. He isn't sure how long he has until you enter his room but he needs to take care of this as fast as possible to save whatever little face he has left. He just prays you knock before you enter.

Tragically, the fear he has that you'll enter his room while he's jerking off, and his desperation to cum has the opposite effect and no matter how hot he feels or how tight the burning coil in his stomach gets he can't bring himself to find relief. He almost wants to cry from how embarrassing this entire thing is, he's a grown adult man who has killed people for goodness sake what is he doing?

He slows down his ministrations as he tries to come up with a solution. If he was a third party to this situation the answer would be obvious, but he's too horny and pent up to think straight and he needs whatever solution will work the fastest. 

He realizes he may just have to tough it out until you leave. At least with his excuse of being sick, his red face, sweat, and heavy breathing will make sense. If he stays under the covers he won't have to worry about hiding his raging erection either. 

Then he can hop in the shower and run it ice cold to cool himself off. Wait, the shower. Of course! You wouldn't dare to barge in on him while he's showering so surely-

There's a knock on his door. He groans loudly, the chance he had to make a dash for his bathroom long gone. You open the door slowly with a plate and bowl balanced in one hand. You glance down to the side and he watches your face flush. He mentally face palms as he realizes all of his clothes you saw him wearing are now thrown all over his bedroom floor. God he's so stupid when it comes to you. 

Trying to ignore the fact you now know he's stark naked under the covers, he shifts a knee up to hide any chance of his erection showing under his covers and he gives a slight wave as he balances the blanket above his nose. 

“Sorry, it was really hot so-”

You shake your head and let out a nervous laugh, “No-no it's okay! It's your home after all. Whatever makes you comfortable so you can feel better!” You give him an awkward smile that puts him on edge as you place the dishes on his desk. 

He wonders if you can smell his arousal with how close you are. He had been at it for hours before you showed up, surely the sweat, pre-cum and lotion he was using is permeating the air around you. He was never letting himself live this moment down.

Imagine, the Copy Ninja, Kakashi of the Sharingan; world renowned, revered as one of the strongest ninja in Konoha; one of the best strategists alive. And here he was. Completely nude in his own bed while his crush stares awkwardly between him and his food as his throbbing hard on bounces against his stomach and thigh. 

He feels himself getting dizzy from over stimulation and he needs you to leave fast. He lifts himself slightly off his bed to address you more properly. “Thank you for the food. You just got back and you're taking care of me. I don't deserve you-” He corrects himself. “Your kindness.”

He peaks up at you with one eye only to see you completely flushed red with your eyes wide open. Kakashi looks down quickly in fear that his blanket has revealed his true problem but no, the blanket fell down just to his stomach, the fabric bunching up enough to hide everything except his chest and-

Oh no. 

He had peeled off his mask in his lust induced daze, and you had never been privy to see his face. 

Was your reaction good? Kakashi had been told before that he was an attractive man, and the few times people had seen his face outside of friends only confirmed that fact. He wasn't stupid or humble enough to deny it. Did you find him attractive?

He chances looking up at you again to observe your reaction only to see you frozen in place. One hand slightly wavers as it points hesitantly towards his face. Your mouth is hung open, a strangled jumble of noises quietly emanating from it as your face becomes redder and redder. 

He needs to get you out and now here you are, turned to stone at the sight of his face. If he had known how strong your reaction would have been he'd have yanked it down in front of you ages ago. He can’t help but feel extremely flattered, this was certainly the best reaction surrounding his face he had received to date.

With you not moving and your face beet red, he decides to take a chance, “You like what you see?”

Your mouth snaps shut and you hum out in embarrassment. You turn away with your eyes shut, “I- god- I don't-”

He smirks at your stuttering, maybe he could turn this around. He didn't hope that by the end of this he'd be balls deep inside you but he might be able to steer it in that direction for the future.

Still staring away from him you manage to stutter out a reply, “I was curious why you always wore that mask, but now I know. It's so people will leave you alone. You're absolutely gorgeous Kakashi.”

Or maybe the porn he read rotted his brain enough to think he ever had a chance to be as smooth as the male leads in his books; your response stopps him dead in his tracks. He had been called a lot of things in his life but gorgeous was not one of them. It stirs something deep within him and it’s not just his cock begging for your attention.

He tries to salvage the situation back into his favour but ultimately fails when nothing but the words “fuck me fuck me fuck me” keep chanting over in his head. God I’m a loser.

You manage to recover enough to drag his desk chair over to his bed and place the two dishes on top of it for him to reach easily. It's a simple sandwich and a bowl of soup. You huff as he eyes the meal, “I didn't have a lot of time so the soup is a little bland but it should still help. I eat it myself when I'm sick so no judgment okay?”

You aren't able to look him in the eyes. He watches as you make repeated attempts to take a peak at his face, whether to memorize it or just out of pure shock he isn't sure but he hopes it’s the former. Maybe you think of him when you’re alone at night and this could fuel your own fantasies. He holds out hope that that’s the case. 

Kakashi carefully reaches over to ensure the blanket doesn’t move any further and grabs the sandwich. Maybe food will help calm him down enough until you leave. He goes to take a bite but he hears you gasp as soon as he opens his mouth. 

He pauses, mouth still wide open, and glances up at you. One hand is covering your mouth while the other is clenching itself at your side. He lowers the sandwich down just enough for you to see his full face, “Something wrong?”

You shake your head quickly, denying that anything is wrong. Your silence and your beet red face say otherwise. Kakashi is almost worried you’re holding your breath. 

He goes back to taking a bite only to hear you gasp again. 

“Sorry!” You squeak out. He glances at you, both hands now covering your mouth. “I just…your canines are so…pronounced! Sharp!”

Kakashi observes your reaction. A net positive, he thinks.

“Mah, they were a pain as a child. Used to bite myself by accident. Got them from my paternal side.”

You look bewildered at how easily he brings up such a private thing about himself. He tries to convey through his expression that he would tell you everything if it means you'd reciprocate his feelings. 

He finally manages to take a bite of the sandwich you prepared, acutely aware of your staring. He wants to melt into his bed. What had he done to deserve this. Admittedly he hadn't eaten in a while but that was because he had spent the better part of his day masturbating to thoughts of you. And now here you were forcing a sandwich and soup down his throat when he should have been shoving his throbbing cock down yours. Life was truly out to get him. Also he had to stop thinking about such crude things when you were barely a foot away from him. Maybe this was punishment. 

You stand there awkwardly as he eats, starting up conversation about what you had done on your mission with Gai and Tenzo. It had been a weird group at first but Jonin were in short supply. Kakashi himself having been on a mission when you were first assigned to go. That's what he liked about you. You were an insanely talented ninja, your skill in ninjutsu almost matching his own. Many times you had been assigned solo missions, not having enough support to back you up. You always came back fine though. 

Kakashi wonders what would have happened had he been assigned with you. The two of you had never been put on a mission together, your skills too closely matched to reasonably put you on the same team, needed more assisting others to make up the strength. Right now he reasons he needs you together more than ever. The sandwich isn’t helping like he hoped, and you being so close is making him want to toss it aside and pull you into bed with him. 

Surely you would reciprocate, let him fuck you into oblivion, let him spill as much cum as he could inside of your fertile womb-

Kakashi inhales again, he really can't focus on anything but sex right now. He had always preferred books to the company of others but now that you were in his life it seemed the only thing he could think about was you in between the pages instead. 

Maybe it was for the best you two had never been paired up, night one on a mission would have ended him right then and there. 

He swallows the last mouthful of sandwich and puts the rest of it down half eaten. “Thank you for the food, I'll leave the rest for later, my stomach isn't sitting well with me.” 

Understatement of the century, the bubbling of horniness and guilt in his stomach is making him want to vomit. Now to get you to leave. 

You smile back at him, taking the plates and chair and putting them back at the desk, “Sure, it sucks you got sick. I was actually coming to see if you wanted to hang out and catch up but since you're feeling under the weather we'll have to postpone. I'm heading back on another mission with Gai and Yamato tomorrow so-”

Again!? What do Gai and Tenzo have that I don't? 

“Huh? You know we can't team up Kakashi, you're needed elsewhere.”

Had he…said that out loud? God the pain in his crotch was getting to him.

“Ah. Sorry, it's just a shame we don't get put on missions together, we'd get so much done.” Kakashi smiles, doing his absolute best to save himself from his blunder. 

Judging by the look in your eyes you aren't buying it. You move closer and sit on the edge of his bed. Kakashi's cock bobs against the covers as the bed dips, causing him to groan at the friction. 

“Kakashi are you sure you're okay? You're sweating like crazy, your entire body is bright red, and your eye looks completely glazed over. Maybe we should take you to the hospital?” you suggest, hand slowly crawling to rub his leg in an attempt to soothe him. 

If you had reached only a few centimetres over all of this could be solved. Instead, Kakashi inhales sharply at the contact, moving it away from your caressing and closing in on himself in an attempt to fight off the rapidly approaching orgasm. 

You shoot up and over to him, a hand on his shoulder while the other goes to cup his cheek, trying to figure out what exactly is wrong with him. You blush as Kakashi nuzzles his face into your hand before both of his hands shot up to retrain your wrists and push you away from him. 

“Please…please don't touch me like that.” Kakashi breathes out, panting heavily as his edging finally rears it's head and reminds him of how close he truly is to cumming. 

You look at him, searching for any sign that would tell you why he was acting this way. You stand up and look around before you freeze, it appears something clicks in your head and he doesn’t want to know if you finally caught on. He just needs you to get out of here. 

“Oh.”

He peers up at you, your eyes fixated on something above his bed. He turns to look at what you’re staring at only to be mortified by the prepubescent like scene. Lotion and tissue paper lay haphazardly behind him, Make Out Paradise propped open to one of the more graphic chapters.

Kakashi prays to anyone that might hear him to come and kill him.

“Ah, Kakashi…. I'm uh. I'm -”

You’re blushing like crazy, hands flying between your face and playing with the zipper on your flak vest. Your eyes are wide as you stare at the lotion, mind running a mile a minute as you process the last few minutes. 

Kakashi knows there are only three reactions to a scene like this. One is absolute disgust, running away and cursing at him for being so gross. The second is you leaving as soon as possible, laughing it off and apologizing for interrupting, or three. You would get on your knees and suck him off right then and there. And considering you hadn't moved yet, maybe he could still swing to three. 

He hopes being honest and straightforward will catch you off guard and won't give you a chance to hide any surfacing feelings. 

He breaths out a defeated sigh, “I tried to push you away but…this is embarrassing. I just wasn't expecting anyone today.”

Your face is red and you breathing hitches. You’re biting your lip ever so slightly and you aren't hinting at any sign of leaving. You stare down at Kakashi with your eyebrows knit together, eyes glazed over and pupils blown wide open. Jackpot. 

“If you don't leave soon I'm going to take it as a sign you want an invitation you know,” Kakashi purrs, hooded eyes gazing up at you. He reaches a hand out to tentatively take yours. You let out a strangled cry as your knees begin to buckle. 

Kakashi moves and swings a leg out from under the blanket, now only covering his crotch and his other leg. 

In your eyes, he looked like a god, and you would happily fall to your knees to worship his altar. 

You gulp as you drink in the sight, thighs pressing together as confused arousal pools in your stomach.

Kakashi pulls you in closer to him, his free hand resting on your waist, “Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but I need you so badly.”

Your lips quiver, “Am I dreaming? I'm not still back on my mission having the craziest sex dream ever right now am I?” 

Kakashi chuckles and pulls your hand down further to bring you closer to his face, “I sure hope you aren't, or this would be very embarrassing for me.”

Your lips meet his then, gentle and far too chaste for his liking. You’re too hesitant still, unsure if this was actually happening. He’s glad you feel this way, it makes leading you to where he needs you so much easier. 

You place a hand down on his covered thigh and he groans, head falling down to calm himself. He breathes, “I'm going to be honest with you, any touch you leave on me might be my last. I am insanely pent up and am ready to explode at any moment. Whatever we're doing is going to need to be slow.”

Your pupils widen at the confession, all colour from your irises fading as desire and lust engulfs them. You fall to your knees dazed, your flak vest coming undone and thrown off to the side. His fantasy from earlier flashes through his head, the collar is missing but the hitai-ate around your neck will make do. He hooks a finger around the fabric and pulls it slowly towards him, forcing you to crawl until you're situated perfectly in between his legs. 

Kakashi brings a hand to caress your chin before stroking his thumb against your lips to open them. You comply with his silent request and roll your tongue out around the digit as your mouth widens. He presses his thumb against the muscle and you wrap your mouth around it and suck gently, a quiet moan vibrating from your throat. 

You reach a hand to meet his and slowly remove his thumb from your mouth, “You said you were pent up. How close are you?”

Kakashi almost came from you sucking his thumb off but he isn't about to tell you that. You don't seem to need a verbal answer though as you make your way to his crotch. Your teeth catching the fabric and tugging lightly to tease him. Your mouth meets his erection through the cloth and Kakashi lets out an embarrassingly loud moan and clenches his thighs around you in response. 

You decide to be merciful and drag the blanket away from his pelvis. His throbbing, leaking dick greets you as it springs from its flimsy confines and smacks Kakashi's stomach. Red and shiny and desperately crying for your mouth. You lick your lips as your hands push back at Kakashi's thighs to spread him farther apart. Kakashi can’t believe what a sight you make; his cock blocking part of your face, eyes glazed over and tongue hanging out as you stare hungrily at his erection. Like a panting dog. You press your face against the base of his cock and inhale before wrapping your tongue around the base and his balls, sucking at the sensitive flesh. 

Kakashi cries out at the contact, head thrown back as he struggles to hold himself up. God he had spent too long waiting for this. The pressure building up far too quickly in his crotch as you continue your assault. He reaches back to try and grab your hitai-ate again to pull you away but he should have been prepared for how cruel a woman you are as you resist it. In response, a hand comes to fondle his ball sack as another moves to stroke his shaft. Your head moves to kiss around his cock, inner thighs and crotch becoming covered with teasing licks and kisses. 

Kakashi feels like he’s going insane, heavy breathing and toes curling as you gave him every bit of your attention. He reaches into your hair and tugs slightly to try and let you know he's close. Luckily you seem to understand as you lower your head back down to his cock. You take in as much as you can but he's far bigger than you expected, with the girth to match. Tears sting your eyes as you try to take him, and what you aren't able to, you continue to stroke with your hands. 

You bob your head up and down slowly and allow your tongue to do most of the heavy lifting as his cock hits the back of your throat. You gag slightly but hold strong, you aren't about to let this moment be ruined by a weak gag reflex. Your tongue traces the veins along his shaft, licking and sucking as he twitches in your warm mouth. 

Kakashi accidentally bucks his hips up against you when you hit a particularly sensitive spot and a light slap to his ass and you pausing your work tells him not to do that again.

You resume quickly after, one hand pushing down against his thigh to hold him in place and rubbing circles into it as the other assists your mouth in stroking Kakashi's cock. 

His dick twitches harshly in your mouth and Kakashi let's out a strangled moan of your name as the only warning you get before his hands wrap into your hair and tugs you down to take as much of him as you can. His cock pulses against your tongue, once, twice, before it proceeds to shoot ropes of hot sticky cum directly down your throat. 

You close your eyes in an attempt to not choke, swallowing his seed down as quickly as you can. Kakashi's moans come out in strangled gasps as copious amount of his cum spills into your mouth. You're taken aback by how much he's cumming and some of his spend leaks out from your mouth as you struggle to swallow it all fast enough. 

You manage to break free of his grasp on your head and release his cock with a gasp as you continue to milk him with your hands. Ropes of the white substance shoot onto your face and down your shirt, coating you in Kakashi's warm cum. You open your mouth as it continues to shoot out and cover you, until he's reaching down and pulling your hand away, sensitivity in overload. 

He falls onto his back as the last remnants of cum spurt out from his cock and you move to lick it clean. He's groaning out in response, babbling your name and begging for you to stop with tears in his eyes. You lick a long stripe up his shaft to finish cleaning him off before you sit back and take in your work.

Kakashi is an absolute mess, his hands flying up to his face to wipe away some of the sweat and tears to compose himself.

He wants to move to see your face but his body feels like jelly after finally finding release. He really needs to pay you back. 

“You came a lot.” You muse, taking some of his spend and rubbing it between your thumb and finger before licking it into your mouth. 

He breathes out, “Where did you learn to do that.”

You tap his thigh, “Don't change the subject. Were you edging yourself the entire day before I showed up?”

He gulps, hands covering his face from shame. 

You crawl up between his legs, kissing his thighs and leaving a wet kiss along the tip of his over-sensitive cock before moving up and kissing up his happy trail and chest. He finally finds the strength to lift himself up slightly and takes in the sight of you, cum still covering your face and chest, some of it even in your hair. Fuck you look hot. He feels his cock twitch again. Perhaps he would be ready for part two sooner than he thought. 

He smears a strip of cum on your cheek into your pliant mouth. You hum around the digit as you swallow the sticky spend. You were going to be the death of him. 

He finally responds, “Perhaps. What's it to you.”

You lick your lips as a particularly large glob of cum falls from your hair and lands on his stomach. You move down and lick it up, swirling it on your tongue before swallowing it down. His cock springs to life at the obscene display. “Just want to know the best way to get this much for next time.” You coo, kissing his torso as you continue to pick up his seed and take it into your mouth.

He gulps, far too excited about the implication of a next time. You finish cleaning yourself up from his facial, a slight white stain on your otherwise clean sweater. He isn't sure if you'll be able to get it out by tomorrow, and the thought of Gai and Tenzo seeing his cum stain on your shirt arouses him far too much. The primal male urge to mark his territory swelling within him. Images of you with a swollen belly flash through his head and he can feel it hitting his libido like a ton of bricks.

“I'll give you as much off my cum as you please.” He mutters, hand caressing your cheek as you place kisses against his palm. 

You smirk and reach down to grasp his cock in your hands, stroking mindlessly as you kiss his chest. You trace his abs with your tongue as Kakashi bucks his hips into your hand, still barely calmed down from round one and overly sensitive. 

“Do you know how badly I've wanted to do this.” You murmur against his skin, “It's almost embarrassing how much I've thought about all the things I would do to you if you let me.”

Kakashi's eyes roll to the back of his head, he decides you're definitely trying to kill him, and if this is how he goes out it'll be a wonderful way to go. He just prays “Died From An Orgasm” isn't carved onto his gravestone. 

“You're so wonderful Kakashi, everything about you. If this really is some dream I'm having I really hope I don't wake up any time soon.”

Kakashi snorts, “I'm sure Gai and Tenzo would be thrilled to find you were having a sex dream about me.”

You stop your ministrations to grimace at him. “If you bring up their names again while your dick is in my hand I'll show you what real edging looks like Hatake.”

Kakashi gulps, the look in your eyes tell him you're serious. Where did you even come from? Heaven?

You continue working him up, your lips kissing what felt like every inch of his chest and pelvis as your hands stroke his weeping cock. He’s panting heavily and the coil in his gut is tightening again. He needs to turn this around if he doesn't want to pass out on you.

He pushes himself up further until he’s properly sitting, your face tucking into his neck, sucking love bites into the tender flesh. You’re relentless in your pursuit to make him cum again and he needs you to stop. Now that he knows you’re more than willing he needs to fuck you until you’re so sore you’ll have to call off the mission tomorrow. 

He reaches behind you to grasp your hitai-ate and yanks it back, this time with enough pressure around your neck to force you back with it. You pout at him in defiance when he lets go. 

“Y-your turn.” He struggles out. It's far less sexy than he would like but the grip you have on his cock is messing with his head so he does what he can.

You give a small laugh at his stuttering, “You sure you’re up for it big boy? You look like you’re about to pass out.” That sparks a fire in Kakashi. Getting caught in such a vulnerable state, coming completely undone by you, and now your teasing pushes the last remaining bit of masculine pride Kakashi has in overdrive and he lifts himself fully off the bed and twists you around until you're flat under him.

The shock in your expression surges him on as he glides a hand along your sides. You shiver slightly at his actions before he toys with the hem of your shirt. He take a glance up at you for permission and the intense blush and knitted eyebrows tells him all he needs to know.

He snakes his hand under your shirt and caresses your skin as he makes his way up your chest. He palms at your breast as his other hand rests against your lower back, thumb gliding across your side, causing goosebumps to form across your skin from the tickling sensation.

Your eyes squeeze shut as his hand slips under your bra to play with your pebbling nipple. He kisses your neck before straddling your waist. Both hands leave their spots to tug your sweater up and over your head. You moan at the loss of warmth, now colder in only your bra and shorts. A few silvery scars mark your body and Kakashi can’t help but run his hands over them, reminding him once again that you contained an immense amount of power in your veins and here you were, so pliant and pleading for him. It was so easy to forget that you were both machines made for war when you’re both vulnerable like this. It makes him feel insanely human. He feels a hand touch his cheek and barely hears your voice breathe out, “Come back to me.” He meets your eyes before quickly diving down to kiss between your breasts in apology. His hands snaking around your back to remove your bra. Your hands thread into his hair as he drags the bra away and takes a nipple in his mouth, a hand kneading the other roughly. Your moans urge him on as he gently bites at your breast, leaving a light red ring along it to mark you. His hand kneading your breast snakes down to your pants and he fingers the edges of it. You buck your hips against him as a warning but he ignores it.  He leaves feather light kisses along your breasts and carefully nips at your neck and shoulders before slowly sliding himself down.

Your breath is staggering, and your hands clasp against his upper arms in warning “Don't you dare…”

He chuckles against your skin, enjoying that you've caught on. He needs you to be as much of a crying mess as he almost was. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” Kakashi murmurs against your stomach, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I first saw you years ago.” He licks a small strip over your stomach to distract you from the hand crawling into your shorts. “You’re strong and thoughtful, kind and smart. You’re absolutely perfect.” He continues, his free hand drawing circles into your hip. 

His hand slips under your panties and ghosts over your folds. Your legs twitch as he delicately traces over your heat. He pushes your shorts down just enough for him to suck and bite your lower hip, leaving a blossoming bruise in its wake for you to find later. Kakashi pushes his middle finger in and teases your entrance, collecting your wet arousal and spreading it throughout your cunt before it lands on your clit and rubs gentle circles against it. You moan at the contact and he shifts himself up to find a breast again, sucking and nipping at it while he toys with your clit. He adds his ring finger and teases it between the two fingers, the sensation of his hot breath sucking your nipple and his cold fingers against your cunt making you squirm in pleasure. Your hands fly down to try and push his hand away but his free hand collects your wrists and pulls them above your head, keeping you from being able to touch him further. 

He moves to capture your lips in a heated kiss, tongue fully dominating the inside of your mouth and exploring it freely while his fingers move away from your clit and circle your entrance. Your breathing comes out in short gasps as he kisses you, middle finger pushing its way past your entrance. His thumb takes over at rubbing your clit while his finger explores your pussy, feeling every wall and thoroughly paying attention to how you shift and moan at every spot he presses against.  Soon his ring finger joins in past your entrance. The two digits spreading apart occasionally like scissors as his fingers slowly drag in and out of your pussy, opening your hole up further to prep you. Your wetness slowly starts to drip out of you as Kakashi fucks you with his fingers, a white ring forming at the base of them. Your lungs are working overtime as Kakashi continues to massage the inside of your mouth with his tongue. Finally, he relents and releases you, only for you to cry out his name instead of catching your breath. “Shh, the neighbours will here you.” Kakashi presses a kiss to your burning red cheek, still pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt. You can barely form a sentence but with the way your nose scrunches up he can tell you want to retort. He’s a bit too pleased with himself knowing he’s finally turned the tables on you. 

You start thrashing your hips and he takes it as a sign to remove his fingers from your heat and makes a show of licking your arousal off his fingers. Your hands flinch in his wrists and he releases them, watching as they instantly fly to your face to hide your embarrassment. “You taste so good, need some of it straight from the source.” He coos, trailing down to finally peel your shorts off fully. You weakly lift your hips to assist and you sigh when you’re finally relieved of the remainder of your clothing. Kakashi rubs his hands along your ass and thighs, relishing in the sight of having you naked in his bed. You’re chest is rising harshly as you catch your breath, flushed completely from his ministrations. You look absolutely gorgeous.

Kakashi dives down in between your thighs, giving a few light kisses and bites to your inner thighs before quickly moving to your cunt and gathering some of your spilling arousal on his tongue. You yelp at the new sensation and try to squirm away, but Kakashi grabs your hips and keeps you in place, tongue lapping at your entrance while his nose brushes against your clit. He delves his tongue inside you, occasionally mouthing over your pussy to lap at your juices. He’s positive he could get drunk off of this, his cock throbbing as you sob out encouragements.

Your hands find his hair, lightly pulling on the strands to warn him you’re close. He licks one final strip up your pussy before pulling away, teasing you of any sort of release. He needs you to be as ready as possible so he doesn’t finish first. 

Kakashi hooks his arms around your legs and slides himself back up. He mimics what you did earlier and leaves a trail of kisses along your stomach and breasts while his hands caress your legs as he lifts them above your head and onto his shoulders.

You're sweating and flushed, while you've been bent practically in half for Kakashi to easily gain access to your cunt. His arms pin you in place as he presses his body against you, cock pressing flush against your entrance. He realizes then that he had forgotten to take your hitai-ate off. The reminder of who you two are the only article of clothing left between you.

It's such an indecent position. Two of Konoha's strongest shinobis engaged in such a filthy act, the world renowned Copy Ninja bending the strongest kunoichi of the leaf in a mating press like they're nothing more than livestock meant to breed. Maybe they are. The thought of you two ending up with a child makes Kakashi's mind swirl as his cock tip rubs up against your wet pussy.

Your belly would swell with his child and even if you denied him after, everyone would know it was his when the baby would come out with silver hair. His cock pulses at the thought, how many kids would you give him if he asked? One? Two? Five? His mind rushes through thoughts of you in a gorgeous wedding gown, a yukata of your own with his clan crest on it, little feet padding along the floors to welcome him home-

He looks in your eyes to steady himself, realization washing over him, “I don't have condoms.”

Your glazed over eyes seem to snap back to reality for half a second before you toss your head back in a half hearted chuckle, “I never thought taking birth control for my skin would come in handy like this.”

Kakashi's eyes widen slightly at the confession, he has truly hit the jackpot, “Are you sure? I just don't want us having to worry about any consequences later on.”

You rub his arms in an attempt to soothe him. “It'd be a little too late for that anyways with that leaking cock pressing against me already. You're fine Kakashi, just come in me.” Your voice cracks with want, “Please. Use me as you please, stop making me wait.”

You buck your hips slightly to rub against him to prove a point and it tosses him right back into the mood. He leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss before he's using one of his hands to glide his cock against your warm cunt to lube himself with your slick. 

You moan into his mouth as his cock head repeatedly hits your clit. Kakashi takes this moment to plunge his tongue into your mouth again, your own tongue weakly battling his in a desperate attempt to fight back with what little self control you have left. 

He's soon slick enough and he moves away from your glossy lips, a string of saliva connecting you two as he purposefully stares into your eyes. You swallow hard under Kakashi's intense gaze as he moves to slide his dick inside of you. He teases your folds a few times before he makes his way past your entrance, his large cock stretching you open. The stretch shoots an intense heat through your body and you loudly moan out Kakashi's name in response as you toss your head back.

Kakashi pauses and moves his hand to grab your chin, he pulls you back gently and pecks your lips, “Eyes on me, Princess.”

You whine at the pet name as you try to focus back on Kakashi. He slowly pushes further inside and your eyes water from how full he makes you feel. Your hands fly between his arms and his back in an attempt to ground yourself from the sensation. 

Tears roll down your face at the pleasant sting of Kakashi's large cock stretching you wide and he bends down to kiss your tears. “You alright?” He murmurs against your cheek.

You nod, not trusting your voice. 

“Good.” He kisses you one final time before he pushes further in, he groans at the feeling of your tight walls pushing down on his already over sensitive cock. He knows he has to go extremely slowly if he wants to last long enough to have you come first, but in the back of his head he decides if he can at least get you to come at the same time as him it'll be a victory. 

He pulls back slowly, he really is too big and he worries if this is too much for you, but as if you can read his thoughts you breathe out his name, and he can practically feel the lust emanating from it. 

You dig your nails into his flesh, crescent moons forming along his arm and back. Only his cock head remains inside you now, and your entrance squeezes him enough for him to toss his head back as he groans at your tight heat. 

He composes himself, every last bit of sanity focused on not cumming first, “Are you ready?”

You cry out, “Please Kakashi!”

With your permission he slams into you at full speed. The intense rush causing you to gasp, and for Kakashi to bend over and brush his forehead against yours. He thrusts into you sharply, every angry vein along his cock brushing your walls deliciously as the tension builds up in his gut embarrassingly quickly. 

You're babbling praises to him but he can barely hear as he focuses on fucking you properly and not cumming. He needs you to know only he can make you feel like this and words would never be enough. Now that he has you, he wants to make sure you’ll stay and what better way to prove that than to show you how good he can make you feel. 

His balls slap against your ass as he thrusts inside you, his cock reaching impossibly deep and hitting your cervix in a mix of pain and pleasure you had never experienced before.

You claw at his back as you ride out the pain, gasps and moans spilling from your mouth as you beg him to go faster. “Please K-Kakashi, come inside me, please!” You beg, eyes rolling back and mouth unable to close. He wonders if you had been thinking about getting bred properly too, “Would you like that?” He takes a chance, “Fill you full of my cum, knock you up?” Your pussy squeezes his cock at the suggestion, confirming his question. He presses a kiss against the shell of your ear, “Better hope that birth control sticks, bet you would look so good with my child inside of you Princess. I’d take good care of you and our baby. I’d give you whatever you asked for.” You claw at his back in response, red lines dragging against his skin as you take in his dirty talk. “P-please Kakashi, I’ll give you as many as you want. M-make me a mom! Please! I’ll be good for you, please fill me full! Give me your baby Kakashi.” you sob out in response. Kakashi’s thrusts increase at your begging, god how had he gotten so lucky with you. Such an elite shinobi crying under him, begging him for his seed to take inside your womb as he pounds into you? You could have anyone you want in Konoha, strong ninja being far more popular than others for their potential to pass down their strength. And here you are, letting Kakashi get his dick wet in your cunt instead of choosing someone with far more likeability. He knows he’s insufferable at times and he never lets anyone know how he’s truly feeling, but maybe if it’s you he could be more honest.

He lifts his feet onto his toes and leans in to press further into you, cock slamming into your wet cunt and the sounds of skin slapping against skin permeating the air. 

Both of you are tearing up from pleasure and Kakashi is positive he’s about to burst. He shoves a hand between your bodies and presses his thumb against your clit. He rubs it intensely, swirling the nerve feverishly to get you to come before him. You seize up against him, body tightening around his as the coil in your stomach starts to tighten. “I’m close…”you breathe out, barely a whisper Kakashi almost misses.

His thighs are burning from the position he’s in and his cock is throbbing painfully inside of you as he thrusts in and out of your pussy harshly. Your high pitched mewls are urging him on and he knows he isn’t going to last.

He’ll make it up to you, eat you out until you’ve cum on his tongue enough times that you forget how to count. His cock twitches and the coil finally snaps as he cums for the second time that day. Hot ropes of cum flood into your wrecked pussy and it sends you barrelling into your own orgasm. You cry out as Kakashi continues to paint your insides white, both of you riding out your highs, breaths mixed together. Kakashi moves to swallow your gasps, the shift causing both of you to let out high pitched moans. Kakashi is embarrassed at the sound that comes from his throat but you don’t seem to notice, eyes closed shut as your mouth moves against his while your cunt milks him of every drop of cum he can give. 

It proves to be a lot, and the sticky cum starts to flood out from your pussy past his cock. He can barely move and he really doesn’t want to. The idea of any of his cum escaping you before it can take makes him hesitant but he quickly remembers he shouldn’t be daydreaming about breeding you senseless and starts to slide out of your spent cunt. 

You whine in protest and clutch at his back to try and hold him in place but he chuckles and presses a wet kiss to your cheek, “Sorry Princess, we can’t stay locked like this all day.” “Why not,” you whine. You finally open your eyes to meet his and his heart almost gives out. They’re shiny from your tears and mixed with your deep blush you look like a painting. He wants to scoop you up and take you again right then and there but he’s already cum twice today and he’s pretty sure if he tries a third time there won’t be anything left of his dick. 

He pulls your legs down from their position against his shoulders, rubbing your thighs and kissing them in case they burned like his did. You moan again at the gesture and he’s sure you’re sore.  He watches some of his cum leak out of you and he scoops it up before it can hit his sheets and shoves it back inside of you. You cry at his actions and a sharp pain shoots through his groin and he stops, he shouldn't work himself up again so soon, it was starting to get painful. Instead he watches his cum pool out of your pussy, staining his sheets as it collects under your ass.

“Let me get something to clean you up.”

You grab at him weakly to pull him back into you, “Ugh you read too many romance books, I don't need to be cleaned up right away, you already came in me and its already all over your sheets. I need affection right now.”

He chuckles and pushes past your grabby hands, scooping you into his arms and leaning his body against yours, “Sorry, I'm still new at this.”

You would have rocketed out of bed at the confession had you not been sandwiched between Kakashi and the bed, “What? I refuse to believe this was your first time.”

Kakashi presses a few kisses to your face, unable to contain himself from how cute your expression is, “No, but it's been quite a number of years, and even then they weren't the most fulfilling experiences.”

You scrunch your face as he continues to pepper your face with feather light kisses, “So all of that was just….from Icha Icha?”

Kakashi hums out a yes as he moves to kiss your neck. He's going to take full advantage of your demand for affection, it means you wanted him more than a one night stand and he plans to give you everything.

“You can't just drop that on me, post mind-blowing orgasm. You mean I have to thank Jiraiya for how you are in bed?”

Kakashi pauses and looks up at you. It appears you and him were on two completely different wave lengths. 

“Uh, if that's what you want?”

You press a thumb against his forehead to smooth the wrinkles that form in his confusion, “It was a joke baby, I'm trying to compliment you.”

The pet name goes straight through Kakashi into his dick. Down boy. He settles for stuffing his face in your neck.

You run your hands through his admittedly sweaty hair and laugh at his pouting. 

“I liked that high pitch moan you let out back there,” so you did hear him, “I didn’t know you could make a sound like that.” He huffs into your neck and flips you over so you're now on top of him, arms wrapping around your lower back to keep you pressed against him, “Don’t go telling anyone I did that, that's only for your ears Princess.”

You lift yourself up and keep a hand on his chest, “That’s another thing. Where on earth did you get that nickname, it makes me crazy.”

He looks at you with wide eyes, “Do you not like it? I just thought-” “No!” You huff, lightly tapping his chest, “Crazy in a good way! I wanted to jump you so badly when you first said it, it’s dangerous!” Kakashi lets out a hearty laugh he didn’t know he had in him that takes you off guard. Before you can respond he’s pulling you back against him. You pout against his chest before giving a light laugh.  He kisses the top of your head, “I’m sorry by the way.” You look up at him with a worried expression on your face, “Sorry for what?” He kisses your forehead, “Sorry I didn’t ask you out first. Kind of a horrible first date to have you make me a sandwich then fuck you in my bed.” You guffaw at his words, “Kakashi! Don’t- God why would you say that!” He smiles, and moves to massage the back of your neck, “Sorry, sorry. But when you come back from your mission, will you allow me to take you out properly? I have hundreds of date ideas and not all of them end up with you in my bed, promise.” You quirk an eye at him, “Do some of them end up with you in my bed?” “Maybe. Wouldn’t you like to find out though?” He glances down at you with hooded eyes and a smirk. You narrow your eyes at his playful banter, “I think I liked you better when you 3 hours into an edging session, you were much more compliant.” Kakashi barks out another laugh, you make it easy for him to do that it seems, “Mahh, you’ll get used to it. With that tongue of yours though I’m sure you could get me to bend over backwards for you. I still want to know where you learned to do that.”

You bury your face into his chest to hide your reddening face, “And I want to know how you discovered you had a breeding kink. Some things are better left a mystery don’t you think?” you retort.

Kakashi flushes, you’re 100% right. He isn’t ready to admit just yet that he discovered it after watching you interact with his genin about three years ago. That night had been a very shameful masturbation session.

“Fair enough.” You nuzzle your face against him but feel something poke into your neck. Your reach up to find your long forgotten hitai-ate still wrapped around you. “Oh my god we didn’t take this off?” Kakashi hooks a finger into the fabric, lifting an eyebrow, “You think it’ll tell everyone what it saw today?”

You smack his chest and bury your face into the crook of his neck, “You’re insufferable.” He buries his nose in your hair as he chuckles, “So is that a yes to the date?”

He can just make out a quiet yes muttered against his throat. He squeezes you tightly in response, placing a lingering kiss to to the top of your head.

“Ugh okay we need to get cleaned up the cum is drying and it’s making my legs uncomfortably sticky.” You shoot up and start to climb over Kakashi. He snorts and lightly smacks your ass as you pass over him. You yelp and shoot him a glare as you make your way towards his bathroom.

He starts to get up too, but he slowly realizes he’s been laying down for a good majority of the day and his tight muscles remind him now that he’s come down fully from his high. He trips over himself and quickly looks to see if you saw it. Your voice calls out from the bathroom, “Have a nice fall?” You were turning into a threat to his usual persona. He stumbles into the bathroom and wraps his arms around your torso as you wipe yourself down. He wants to suggest a shower but he knows himself too well and decides better of it lest he has to start expending chakra to keep himself awake enough for a third round. That would not be a fun trip to the hospital. You turn yourself around and wipe his face with a new cloth, he holds you close and hums as you gently clean him up too. He really should be the one doing this but he’s slowly realizing he likes being taken care of as much as he likes to take care of people so he lets you continue.

Soon enough he’s dragging you back into bed and planting more kisses across your skin. Late into the night he whispers promises of what you two will do when you come back from your mission. 

As you doze off in his arms the only thing Kakashi can think of is how he really should do this more often. 

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

“I’M SO LATE.”

“I’m starting to rub off on you in more ways than one.” You throw a pillow at Kakashi’s head which he lets smack him in the face. He deserves it frankly. He watches you race around his room to gather your clothes in your attempt to still make it to your rendezvous point on time. He figures if you left now you would still be 5 minutes late, and the white stain on your shirt would be even more of a question for Gai and Tenzo. He gets up out of bed after what feels like an eternity after lounging in it all of yesterday and grabs one of his clean shirts from his dresser. He tosses it at you as you just discover the lewd stain on what would have been your only shirt. “It’ll be a little big, but it’s better than having those two poke their noses into your business.” he comments, grabbing your soiled shirt from your hands, “I’ll wash this one for you so it’s clean when you come back.” You give him a heartfelt stare, “Thank you Kakashi, I’d say I owe you one but it’s your fault it’s stained to begin with so we’ll just call it even.” He smiles and kisses your forehead, “You should go now, you might get there with enough time for them not to question anything if you run.” Your eyes widen and you dash out the door as you wrap your flak vest around yourself, shouting as leave, “I’ll see you when I come back! I’m expecting a fancy date you know!”

Kakashi gives a halfhearted wave, knowing fully well he’ll have to plan something grand for you. Maybe a bouquet of your favorite flower? A giant plushie? Chocolates? A fancy candlelit dinner? Jewellery? He muses at his options as he thumbs at the stained shirt you left behind. Ah, and definitely more of this.

He tosses the shirt into his bathroom to be picked up and washed later, he hums as he heads for the kitchen for breakfast and decides that he should just give you every option when you return. That’s really the only way he can show you how much he adores you after all.

------------------------------------------- “Did you sleep in by accident?” Yamato teases after you finally meet up with them. You had shown up 10 minutes late, out of breath and a little dishevelled but you're positive nothing else is out of place.

“Is that Kakashi’s shirt?” Gai asks.

You freeze. “No?”

Gai squints his eyes as he brings a hand up to his chin, “I could have sworn that looks like his shirt.”

Yamato leans in to get a good look at it, “It is a little big on you, your normal shirts fit you pretty decently, but this one goes down past your hips and bunches at your wrists.

You push him away, “Don’t look at my hips. It’s just a bigger shirt size than normal, I was so tired when we got home yesterday I didn’t do any laundry so I only had this one to wear.”

You hear sniffing beside you. You turn to see Gai far too close to your face, “It smells like Kakashi too.”

You smack Gai across his face as an intense blush blazes across yours, “Don’t sniff me you creep! Can we just get a move on, we don’t have all day!”

You rush away from both of them, mortified of the development. You realize in agony as you make your way past the village gates that if you had just worn the stained shirt the pair wouldn’t have even seen the stain as it would have been covered by your vest. Kakashi was going to pay when you got back.

[ljubimaya]

♱ 𝐑𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐄 Baji Keisuke x Reader: 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

♱SYNOPSIS: A call late at night alerted you of the declining health of your grandma. Taking matters into your own hands, you decided to travel to her small village far away from your big city life, only to make an encounter that would change your life.

♱T/W: fem bodied reader/afab reader (no pronouns used tho), aged up characteres (20+), mentions of death, mentions of an unnamed illness, predator-prey dynamic, a tiny bit suggestive, but otherwise, this chapter's really plot heavy, also not proofread, eventuell dark content and smut in the following parts so mdni

♱W/C: 7.8k words

Masterlist Next

It was another sleepless night for you. You crouched over your bright laptop, fingers gliding over your keyboard in record time as you tried to finish your coursework. You’ve already gotten used to this – to pull all-nighters to meet your self imposed academic goals, to bounce from university to your part time job to hitting the library to revise your notes and add new information you’d find in the books. Occasionally, you would have enough energy and time to visit the gym near your apartment. Caffeine might do wonders to your productivity, but running on the treadmill while listening to a True Crime podcast has saved your mental health from completely collapsing. Plus, your roommate told you physical activity helps with academics, which is an added bonus. 

Your fingers hurt from typing out your thoughts, feeling stiff from the lack of breaks. You rationalized it with the upcoming holidays, knowing you would have a few weeks to yourself after the seemingly never-ending exam weeks. After you’d finish this, you could curl up in your warm bed, breathe in the clean smell of your freshly washed sheets instead of inhaling the smell of old books and caffeine - which you didn’t mind that much, they just didn’t help you fall asleep like the new washing detergent your roommate raved over. After you’d finish this, you could also finally stop complaining to said roommate about this particular essay.

Truth be told, you would have been finished with this maybe a week ago, but your roommate, Emma Sano, had to drag you from club to club to get her mind off the guy she was interested in. The blonde woman knew the ways to your heart, so she looked at you, teary-eyed, and told you how she was sick and tired of his hot and cold ways. You, too, were sick and tired of it, especially since you knew he was head over heels with her but somehow couldn’t pull his head out of his ass to finally confess. So, instead of wiping her tears away and trying to explain that sometimes, men are just like that and that he actually loves her, that she should reach out to him and tell him how she felt, you let her take your hand and usher you into your room. Somehow, her tears dried fast whenever you’d allow Emma to dress you up for any occasion, so you let it happen, ignoring the nagging voice in your head to rip yourself free from her grip and run to the library to finish your essay. 

You shook your head at the memory. You really couldn’t afford to distract yourself now, not when you had literal hours to turn in your essay. 

So you leaned your head to the side, wrapping your lips around the plastic straw attached to the huge, lavender coloured flask Emma got you for your last birthday and taking a huge sip of the hot coffee inside. You felt the caffeine rush through your body, your heartbeat quickening from the copious amount of the bitter beverage you have already consumed. 

You were in the zone, about to finally finish this essay and turn it in on time, but fate had other plans. You were ripped out of your focused state by the sudden vibration of your phone. This was pretty standard for you whenever you were in the library; you’d silence your phone so you would be able to work as efficiently as you could. Today, you must have just turned off your ringtone and forgotten about the vibration. 

Gonna get a heart attack, you thought begrudgingly, taking a deep breath to calm your hammering heart before looking around to see if you were alone in the library - which you were. Thankfully. 

Next, you looked at the caller’s ID - it was your mom. Eyebrows knitted in confusion. You were thrown off. Usually, it would have been Emma calling you at this hour to get you to come back home. Alarm bells run in your head already. You knew that your mom wouldn’t call you at 2.30 a.m. if she just wanted to talk - this must be urgent. 

“Hello? Mom?” you whispered into the phone, trying to be quiet to respect the library’s rules. Instead of your mother’s usual cheery voice, you were listening to silent sobs and sniffs. Your heart felt heavy upon hearing your mother’s soft crying “Mom, what’s wrong?”

“Oh honey, where do I even start?” She replied shakily. You heard her taking a deep breath, before she continued with a more stable voice “I know this is a bad time, and I’m so sorry to call you at this hour. You must have been asleep already, but I just needed to call you” You remained silent, not wanting to correct her. Knowing her, she would drop whatever subject she called you for to scold you about you staying in the library in the dead of the night, so you let it be. 

“It’s about your grandmother” Your breath hitched “She is - her health is declining” your mother choked up. She must have been in your grandmother’s village to take care of her, just like she told you two weeks ago. A few months ago, your grandfather passed away, leaving your grandmother to live alone in her cottage in the middle of nowhere. Grief left its marks on her, for she refused to eat and got so sick it left her bedridden and unable to attend her husband’s funeral. Ever since, it seemed like a stagnant decline. Your relatives pitched in, traveling far distances to take care of her. This time, it was your mother’s turn to stay with her. 

“She has a high fever and can’t walk anymore. That stubborn woman declines every meal I make her and doesn’t even want to see the doctor” Your mother vented “She’s fallen asleep maybe ten minutes ago after I forced her to eat some vegetable soup” 

“Man, soup? That’s barely a meal” Your mother sighed through the phone “I know, but that’s better than her not eating anything” She paused again, voice stabilizing after her little rant “I can’t stay here any longer. I only took two weeks off of work, and none of your aunts, uncles, or cousins are able to come. I can’t leave her alone here either. God knows what will happen if I leave this woman unmonitored” 

Your eyes wandered to the digital clock of your laptop. 2.37 a.m., you would have roughly three more hours to finish and edit your essay and turn it in. Realistically, you knew you needed every single second of those three hours - it would be an academic miracle if you finished and edited it before duetime. But you weren’t thinking about the precious seconds slipping through your hands like sand.

“When will you leave for home?” You whisper-asked into your phone. The woman on the other line sighed deeply “In about two days, but I might have to stay for longer. I have already talked to my boss about possibly doing work from home, but the internet connection here is as unpredictable as the weather here” Your mother abruptly paused. A muted creaking broke the silence with small tapping noises following suit “Honey, I gotta hang up soon. I think your grandma’s awake again” 

“Mom, you don’t have to stay with grandma any longer. I will pack my suitcase in the morning and take the first train to her village” You quickly interjected before your mother could hang up the phone - which she has been doing rather often since she started to skip on her nightly eight hours of sleep in favor of monitoring her mother’s health. One moment, you would be talking about the newest assignments your asshole of a professor would give you, only to be met with the deafening beeping sound before the line went silent. While it was annoying for you, you knew you would be rushing to her bed if your own mother was ill, so you let it slide.

This time, you were faster than your mother. Thank God you were faster than her. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured to come here and take care of your grandmother” she hesitated, guilt and the slur of tiredness etched into her voice “I know you are very busy with your university courses, and me and your grandma are super proud of you for following this hard academic path. I wouldn’t want to stand between you and your ambition, sweetheart, and neither does your grandma” Warmth flooded your body at your mother’s praises, but oh are you your mother’s daughter - stubborn to the core. 

No amount of sweet talking could change your mind if you have already decided on what to do; your mother knew this too well as well, being the prime victim to your unbending will to fulfill what you deem fit. So you were all in to put your foot down at all costs.

“I understand, mom, but neither of you could ever hinder my academics. Seeing as winter break is starting soon, I see it as the perfect opportunity to step in momentarily and take care of grandma. Besides, I haven’t had the time to visit her since grandpa passed away. I would rather see her alive now rather than attend her funeral with a heavy conscience” You stuttered out the last part. Getting emotional over your own words wasn’t what you intended. You didn’t even want to bring up your grandma’s possible death. Your mother was stressed as she is, and you didn’t want to make her worry more than she already was. Having noticed your slip up - curse you self-inflicted sleep deprivation - you took a few deep breaths and felt your racing heart calm down before continuing “I just want to help out too, mom. I wanna help her get better if I can” 

You were met with tense silence. You pulled your lower lip between your teeth, nervously chewing on it as you waited for your mother to reply back to you. Of course, she would much rather take care of her mother on her own. If you had to put yourself into her shoes, you probably would have told your daughter not to worry, that you got this, that while you appreciate her for offering her help that she still should focus on her life goals. Not because she is incapable, but because you would see it as your duty to care for your mother, where she was the one bedridden and refusing to eat.

“You know what? You are right, you could lend your grandma a helping hand” your mother finally whispered into the speaker “To be honest, I am at the end of my wit. I don’t know how to help her, or get her to even go to the doctor to get a formal checkup” The woman sighed, tiredness seeping through her tone “I would be more than grateful to you if you could come here. Only if it’s not an inconvenience for you”

“Of course not” the words shot from your mouth, faster than bullets could hit their target. For the first time in your life, you were ecstatic about being wrong. Newfound energy rushed through your veins into your brain. You were determined to help your grandma recover, and you were motivated to put some weight off your mother’s shoulders. 

Nodding to yourself, you announced “Then it’s settled! I will be making my way to grandma’s first thing in the morning” More rustling sounds came from your mother’s end along with her sighing “I can’t thank you enough, honey. I will go check up on grandma and head to bed now. You should go back to sleep, tomorrow’s going to be a long day for you” 

Your breath hitched. As you wished your mom a good night and hung up, you were faced with the severity of your decisions. Not only did you promise to go to bed right after hanging up, knowing fully well you were still in the library, but you also agreed to travel to your grandmother’s village in less than five hours. The warmth you were feeling quickly diminished as you remembered your unfinished assignment and the ticking clock. Time truly slipped through your fingers like sand, especially since you were talking twenty minutes on the phone. 

So you threw yourself back into your work, typing long sentences on your keyboard at record time, yoursole motivator being  finishing your assignment and rushing back home to get at least a good three hours of sleep. 

            ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You were spent. Having had two hours to wrap up with your assignment was a hard challenge, but you persevered and turned it in at the very last minute. Usually, you would have not only started the assignment earlier than you did this time, but you would have been extra meticulous with the editing process. Today, however, you haven’t had the time to spare your assignment even a glance before you sent your fifteen page document to your professor. You didn’t want to think of the possible mistakes you made - not that you were able to form a coherent thought at all after the emotional rollercoaster. All you truly could think about was crawling under your freshly washed blankets and falling asleep. 

So you made your way from your university library to your apartment. Striding through the night was usually nerve wrecking for you. You’d walk fast through the less crowded streets, paying no mind to the cat calls of drunken men and vulgar expressions of perfectly conscious men. You have learned quickly that fighting off intoxicated men was easier than sober men after you have enrolled in your current uni, but your preferred method of staying safe is having them not perceive you at all - which was the reason you would walk faster as soon as the street light would turn on. There was no reason you had to stay outside anyway, might as well hurry home to hit the hay. 

This night wasn’t any different. You saw sketchy looking people in all corners, in the bus, in the subway, and even in your apartment complex.  Before you knew it, you were no longer maneuvering your way home between trash cans and other people enjoying the nightlight. You stood before your apartment door, fishing your keys out from your heavy university bag before putting the keys in and turning them before you could twist the handle. 

You tried to open and close the door behind you as quietly as you could before slipping off your warm boots and putting them neatly next to the door. Your clothed feet made contact with the cold, hard floor. You and Emma have been resourceful, trying not to overspend on heating and light since you two barely made ends meet. So if someone would leave a room and forget to turn off the lights, it would become a topic you and your roommate would argue about. 

You walked towards your bedroom tiredly, craving the warmth and comfort your bed would offer you, but the lights radiating from the living room caught your full attention. Not knowing whether to be annoyed or concerned, you entered the living room, ready to turn off the light switch and tell Emma once again to be mindful of your dwindling money to spend only to see her wide awake on the sofa. 

The blonde woman wore a stern expression on her face, a sight that felt foreign to you. Normally, she would be cheerful and smiling, and most importantly, still in bed at seven a.m. on Fridays. Having lived with her for the past year, you have come to know her schedule like the back of your hand, after all. 

“Where were you?” Emma asked, her voice laced with a demanding, motherly tone she usually reserved for her older brothers. You have heard that tone plenty of times whenever Mikey, Emma’s older half brother, would come and visit her, and every time you were grateful not to be on the receiving end of Emma’s scolding. Oh well, you guessed it was your turn. 

You grimaced, knowing fully well Emma wasn’t asking you where you were - as much as you knew about her busy schedule and off days, she knew about your restless nights in the library. 

Sighing, the blonde continued as you remained silent “Listen, I know you want this degree more than anything, but it’s not worth jeopardizing your health for it. I can’t even remember seeing you anywhere near your bedroom since last month”

“That’s a reach, Emma” you nervously chuckled, your tired legs gave in as soon as you were close enough to the couch. Slumping down on the hard cushions, you winced in pain as you collided with the furniture piece, however you recovered quickly “You know I've been in my bedroom on occasion” you added, trying to joke your way out of the blonde’s wrath. Of course that didn't work.

Scorned, Emma huffed, stretching her arm out and pointing her index finger accusatory at you “You know damn well this isn't funny to me in the slightest! You can't keep playing with your health like that” the blonde sighed, calming her down as she lowered her arm and sat down to the much softer armchair next to the couch “At least you will have the winter break to sleep and relax more…. And I better not see you with your nose in any books either” 

Your smile fell. It's not like you were disagreeing with Emma; you knew you had the tendency to overwork yourself. You knew that, realistically, not even the measly four weeks could make up for the sleepless nights you endured to perform well.

“If only that was so easy” You mumbled, head dropping and gaze falling to your intertwined fingers. A shaky breath escaped your lips as your mind replayed the phone call with your mother before you recounted the events to Emma.

Your composure cracked with every passing word you told your roommate about your grandma's declining health.Your vision blurred, but you were unsure if it were tears forming on your lower lashes or if the fatigue caught up to you. All you knew for sure was that your head kept spinning. 

“I am so sorry your family is going through this” Emma spoke tenderly, her strict face morphing into a look of worry and guilt. Her warm palm engulfed your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. You didn't even realize you were shaking before Emma held your hand, the warmth of her body seemingly calming you down “You are so strong for persevering. You, your mother and your grandma” 

Humorlessly chuckling, you retorted as you finally lifted your head to meet Emma's worried face “I'm not exactly sure my gran is persevering. It looks more like she's actively trying to die”

“Hey, don't say that” the blonde knitted her eyebrows together “She is grieving the loss of her husband. They've been together for 50 years-”

“62”

“See? 62 years together is a long time. I highly doubt she stayed with him for 62 whole years if your grandmother wasn't in love with your grandfather” Emma softly added ���You need to be more understanding. She didn't just lose her husband, but the love of her life”

A solemn expression grew on your face as you fully registered what Emma had told you. You finally squeezed her hand back “You are right, I should be more tactful. I guess I was just too tired and frustrated on my mom's behalf” 

Emma nodded “I completely understand where you're coming from, but all I wanna say is that you should understand where your grandmother's pain comes from” she paused before she offered “If you need help with anything, I would love to lend you a helping hand. You don't have to go through this alone”

“Yeah” you replied, voice hoarse and quiet “I could use some help packing my suitcase”

             ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You managed to get three hours of sleep before Emma and her brother dropped you off at the train station. Since neither of you owned a car, Emma called Mikey and asked him to drive you two. You insisted that you could have just walked there, not wanting to cause your roommate any more inconvenience since she was the one who quietly packed your suitcase while you slept on the couch. Truthfully, you didn't even remember falling asleep on the uncomfortable cushions of your old couch. 

“You must have been incredibly tired judging by the way you knocked out” was the only explanation Emma could offer upon your awakening. You could barely sit up straight, groaning as you felt a sharp pain in your back. It was safe to say your sleep was anything but restful; In fact, you somehow felt more tired after your nap. 

Everything felt like a blur to you - from Emma hastily waking you up, to you getting ready and Mikey and Emma dropping you off at the train station. Hell, you barely remembered even getting the ticket to train and getting in your designated seat. All you do remember was the reassuring hand squeeze Emma gave you “Be sure to call when you arrive at your grandma's, ok?” 

“Ok” you reassured her before giving her one last hug. You pulled the blonde woman tightly against your body,  basking in her familiar warmth. Leaving your big city life and your best friend for four weeks seemed daunting to you. You were already somewhat familiar with your grandmother's village, having spent every summer up until you turned 14 in her small cottage in the middle of the forest, and having had to visit for your late grandfather's funeral. While you appreciated the many memories you have from there, you just couldn't shake the gnawing feeling off your chest that you would much rather stay. 

Dreading the long ride and possible delays, you get i side, waving Emma and her brother goodbye one last time before your train took off. 

The seat on the train wasn’t much more comfortable than your couch back at home. Your muscles were aching, your head throbbed unbearably and you struggled to stay awake throughout the ride, but persevered with the help of the aspirin pills Emma had shoved into your hands before you left in your dreaded voyage. The train ride wasn't easy, having had to switch trains, some of which had either been delayed or completely canceled, leaving you to run to catch the substitute trains. To say you were exhausted when you boarded your last train was an understatement. You yearned for your bed the way you have never before; not even the all nighters you frequently pulled wore you down as much as traveling to your grandma’s village. The perspective of sleeping in the guest bedroom after a nice hot bath seemed to be your lifeline, your sole motivator to suck up the agonizing slow pace your train went by. 

That was until you heard footsteps coming towards your seat. 

Slow, calculating steps tapping on the metal floor, silent like a stalking predator nearing itself towards its prey. It was like a switch inside you got turned on as you felt someone stride towards you. Immediately, every trace of tiredness vanished from you, replaced with the same deep-rooted fright you felt when you left your hometown. The fight or flight instinct kicked in, but you remained grounded in your seat. A swift glance to your window showed you the pitch black sky, only illuminated by a crescent moon and a handful of stars. You didn't see any lights from any cities or towns the train rode by, meaning you weren't too far away from your grandmother’s village. Yet, this revelation didn't seem to calm your racing heart. You were still alone in a train with a stranger with no way out and no one to save you. 

You forced yourself to breathe evenly and slowly. Breathe in. Breathe out. Despite your instincts telling you to run and hide, you tried to rationalize the sudden appearance of a total stranger to your otherwise empty wagon. Perhaps they just boarded the train? Maybe it's an employee wanting to see your ticket? Or maybe you were hearing things due to sleep deprivation?

The fear lingered, constricting your throat like a conniving snake ready to swallow you in one bite. You gulped hard, trying to force the tight feeling in your throat to disappear,your back straightening as the steps grew closer and closer until a man sat on the seat on the same row you sat. No reasonable explanation entered your mind for him to sit an arm's reach away from you when he could have easily sat on a seat on the opposite end of the wagon.

Maybe if you'd just ignore the stranger next to you, you could act unbothered and continue your train ride relatively peacefully. But despite your better judgment, curiosity soon fell over you. The gnawing question of who would go out of their way to sit near you when the train offered an abundance of untaken seats wouldn't leave your mind, so you allowed yourself to discreetly peek at the stranger. To make sure they're no harm, you rationalized with yourself. From the corner of your eyes you were able to get a good glimpse of the person: A tall man dressed in dark clothes and long black hair, back leaned against the backrest and legs spread wide apart in perhaps the most stereotypical manspread you have ever seen. His head was facing downwards, his big hands silently typing on his smartphone. The long hair cascaded down to his shoulders, making it impossible for you to see his face. Overall, the stranger didn't seem to mind your presence too much, as he paid you no attention whatsoever. 

A sigh of relief escaped your lips. You worked yourself up over nothing. 

Your muscles relaxed when you were able to finally lean back to your seat instead of upholding your stiff, straight backed posture. Taking a quick glance at your phone confirmed you were just eight minutes away from reaching your destination, a fact that managed to calm your racing heart. Surely, nothing would happen in those eight more minutes? If he wanted to do something, the stranger would have by now. 

“Didn't mean to scare you like that” a deep, masculine voice broke the silence. Startled, your head snapped towards the direction the voice came from, and unsurprisingly, you met the gaze of the stranger. Your heart thumbed as you took in his appearance, finally being able to get a clearer view on him. Narrowed, brown eyes stared back at you in what you could only describe as intrigue. Staring back at him with equal curiosity, you noted his sharp jawline and olive skin, eyes scanning his every feature. You would be lying to yourself if you said he was unattractive. He was quite the eye candy you found. From his rugged, wild look to his long fingers adorned with silver rings and his strong looking veiny hands, he was right up your alley. A tapping sound brought you back into reality, and soon, you realized it was him tapping his finger methodically against his arm rest. His bushy brows were slightly furrowed, his lips remained sealed as if awaiting your reply. The realization that you've been staring at the ravenette and fantasized about him sunk in. Blood rushed to your face, and heat spread all over your body as an overwhelming wave of embarrassment crashed over you. 

“Ah, don't worry about it” was all you could muster up along with a dry laugh as a reply “I guess it's just been a long day” you added silently, more so to yourself rather than him, with an averted gaze to your phone. Barely a minute has passed since you laid eyes on the strange man, and yet you were already making yourself look like a creep. Your tired brain could handle only so much stress and adrenaline. 

He remained silent, eyes trained on your sheepish self before a low hum escaped his throat “Sounds tough” Awkward silence fell over you as the stranger responded nonchalantly. You suppressed the urge to slap yourself over, having missed the opportunity to talk to perhaps the hottest guy you have ever seen. A part of you wished he'd ask you about your day or what exactly made your day so hard, but rationally, you knew not to expect a stranger to care for your unfortunate voyage to your grandmother's village. Clearly, he didn't give a shit and just made somewhat polite small talk with you after scaring the daylight out of you. 

Somehow, the nameless stranger seemed to have captivated you - so much so that you mustered up all of your courage to lift your gaze and look at him one more time. This time, you caught him staring at you, but it wasn't the slightly confused, concerned look his face bore just minutes ago. His gaze was intense, brown eyes staring right into the depths of your soul. A shiver ran down your spine, the primal urge to run and hide from earlier, making a grand return. The dark glint in his eyes left you feeling exposed, naked even, like a prey animal being seized by the predator. Your arms instinctually wrapped around your body, both as a form of comfort and giving yourself the illusion of being hidden from his watchful gaze.

The ravenette finally tore his gaze off of you, abruptly standing up and grabbing his belongings “This is my stop” he gruffly told you, the baritone of his voice ringing in your ears like the melody of a new favorite song. You watched him leave the wagon you briefly shared with him first, no other words exchanged as he left you alone. You were almost disappointed. No goodbye, no explanation towards his strange act, and worst of all, you didn't catch his name. 

An exasperated sigh left your lips, your fingers ran through your hair as you recounted the events of the last few minutes to yourself. Carefully standing up, you too stood up to grab your suitcase and the warm winter jacket you brought with you. Your back and ass hurt from the hard seat you sat on over the excruciatingly long voyage, muscles relaxing after a few well needed stretches. As you walked out of the train into the cold and dark, you were left to wonder if you would see the stranger from the train again. 

          ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧

You weren't awoken by loud car honking or the sirens of an ambulance rushing down the busy streets of your neighborhood - not that it would have bothered you. Having lived in your big city for years now, no sound nor music was too loud for you to lose sleep over - except for Emma's scolding when Mikey was visiting to hang out. Lucky For you, you didn't hear the blonde's loud voice first thing in the morning today. You barely opened your eyes, and you already felt a weight on your chest and a rough tongue lick your nose ever so lovingly. A smile curled your lips at the sight of the orange feline snugly sitting on top of you, purring softly as she successfully woke you up. “Morning little tiger” you chuckled, reaching to pet her little head. The cat contently closed her eyes, lifting her head to meet your hand halfway and leaning into the warmth of your skin. You gave her a few more pats before you gently lifted her off your chest and sat her down on your bed so you could sit up and get handy. 

Your eyes wandered around the room, taking in the simple white wallpaper and the dark wooded furniture – your bed, a drawer next to your bed, a wardrobe with a mirror, a tiny table and a simple chair with a pale pink cushion on top, presumably to sit comfortably on the otherwise hard chair. The sheets you slept in were white with small floral detailing, matching your two pillows. A fond smile spread on your lips as you realized these were the same sheets your grandmother would hand you when you slept over at her house. The familiarity of them brought you comfort. 

Your hand reached to your night stand, grabbing your phone to check the time. 12.34 pm. It wasn't usual for you to sleep through the better half of the day, your assignments, essays and exams forcing you to follow a very strict regime. Usually, you would have woken up hours ago and been at the library to revisit course work. But you weren't at home. You were far away in a village tucked away in a dense forest, and the academic responsibilities are haunting you no more. 

Three new messages caught your attention. Emma. 

Did you arrive yet? How are you holding up?

Hello??? Were you kidnapped or something or why are you not replying to me?? (  •̀ - •́  )

Honey, I know it's late, but I hope you've arrived safely and are snuggly asleep (っ˕ -｡)ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Your fingers swiftly typed out a response to the worried blonde, telling her about your long and taxing train ride and having slept more than eight hours - which you knew she would appreciate. You left out the strange encounter with the man on your last train, debating on whether or not it would make her worry more. In the end, you decided to leave him out. For now, you thought to yourself, thoughts drifting to the handsome ravenette. You swore to yourself you would tell your best friend about him if you'd get the chance to see him again. Considering he got out on the same stop as you did, you are almost certain you would see him again sooner or later, as the village your grandmother lived in was small. It would be a miracle if you didn't see him again. 

A silent knock to the wooden door pulled you back to reality. The door opened, the old handles creaking at the push, revealing your mother. The older woman stepped in and smiled as soon as she saw you. “Morning sleepyhead” her cherry voice greeted you while she walked towards you and sat down at the end of your bed.”How did you sleep?” Her attention quickly shifted to the orange feline laying by your side “I see Marigold woke you up, huh?” she reached to pet the feline's cat, chuckling at the soft purrs that vibrated from the feline. Marigold, oftentimes lovingly referred to as “Goldie”, was your grandmother's cat. Despite being an orange cat, she didn't wreak havoc, instead preferring to nap on the soft cushions of the kitchen chairs, especially when your grandmother is preparing afternoon tea. Though, you recall that the feline became mild mannered with age, as your childhood memories painted a completely different story. You recalled her being a feisty kitten, hissing and scratching at you when you and your grandmother found her under the stairs. 

“I slept like a rock” you replied back, stretching your arms above your head and hearing your spine crack.You never really told your mother that the cost of your academic devotion was a healthy sleep schedule, so you refrained from telling her that last night's sleep was the best – and longest – you have slept in over a year. And I have it good, you detected. If it wasn't for Emma's cooking skills and shoulder to cry on, you would have been an easily irritable, hungry, sleep deprived mess. The thought of Emma's food made your stomach growl. 

“Oh, I can tell” The older woman's eyes roamed your features, glad to see you so relaxed. “You barely stumbled out of the train last night. I can't blame you though, traveling for an entire day isn't for the faint of heart”. It was true. Yesterday's stress took you out completely – so much so you didn't remember the events leading up to and after meeting the stranger on the train. All you can remember are his deep brown eyes piercing through your soul. 

“You missed breakfast and our lunch will still need some time to finish cooking, but I saved you some of grandma's freshly baked bread” your mother chuckled, swinging her left leg over her right leg as she made herself more comfortable on your bed “She's been more active ever since she found out you'd come to visit her” Conflicting feelings overcame you. On one hand, you felt like a terrible grandchild for not having come any sooner. On the other hand, you were relieved to find out your mere presence made your grandmother feel better. Thoughts of persuading her to take her health swirled in your head, already planning on how to get her to seek out a trained specialist. This revelation, however, hinted at something of far greater importance: if she can move around and bake bread in the morning just for you, maybe her physical health wasn't declining . Maybe she has no serious life altering illness like you have thought prior. 

“Well, I'm glad to hear she is doing better” you hummed “When are you leaving to go home?” 

“I'm leaving right after lunch. Can't miss out on your grandmother's stew” Grandma’s stew, the single best thing you have ever put in your mouth. Your stomach grumbled again at the mention of the stew, memories of greedily eating the dish with a large wooden spoon carved by your grandfather resurfaced in your mind. Quickly tossing your blanket to the side, you slipped out of the warmth and comfort of your bed, naked feet standing on the creme colored rug. “God mom, now I'm actually starving. You sure there's nothing left of breakfast for me?” Your mother paused, eyes squinting as she thought of your request “I'm sure I saw some packaged noodles in her pantry. And eggs, if memory serves me right” raising a brow at your mother, you retorted “Packaged noodles? Like instant noodles? Since when is grandma eating that stuff?” Your mother nodded along, brows knitted in confusion “I'm not entirely sure either, but I guess your grandma came to embrace at least a semblance modernity” 

You didn't press any further, unsure if this was truly the answer to your grandmother's change in diet.”Yeah, I guess that makes sense” Slowly nodding, you turned around to to walk out the bedroom, putting on wine red slippers before you opened the dark wooden door “I'm going to make myself something to eat. Do you wanna come down to the kitchen with me?” “I'll quickly call your dad and join you in the kitchen” 

You left your designated bedroom, shivering as you stepped into the cold hallway. Maybe walking out in nothing but a simple nightgown was not a smart idea, but you already stepped out of the bedroom, and you didn't feel like intruding on your mother's call. She can be such a sap. You smiled to yourself, remembering the sickly sweet way she would talk to your father. I'd rather not overhear any of that, you concluded, deciding to tough out the cold for a little while until you'd get to the kitchen. 

You walked down the stairs, the wood creaking softly under your feet with every step you took. This house was old, having been built by your grandfather's father almost a century ago. Every brick and every nail belonged to your family history. What an odd thought, you thought as you passed the family old pictures of people you have never met hanging on the walls. The black and white pictures were framed in gold, the faces familiar, yet strange. You remembered admiring them when you were just a child, wondering what the stories of these people were. As time passed, you'd start to wonder if one day, you would end up next to them, a vibrant, colorful picture of you next to the grey and brown ones of your ancestors. 

The endless halls of your grandmother's home finally lead you to your destination. The door was wide open, inviting you to step inside and eat to your heart's content. You entered to see the kitchen of your childhood frozen in time. The large table still stood in the center with the same white lace tablecloth, your grandmother still kept her porcelain plates and dishes in the glass cabinet, and upon further inspection, even the drawing you gifted her ages ago hung on the fridge. Some things really never change. 

Walking straight to the pantry, you had to satiate your curiosity before you could even think of stilling your hunger. There was no way your grandmother – an elderly woman who swore on home cooked meals, homemade remedies, and grew her own vegetables and fruit – would ever willingly buy instant ramen. It sounded so ridiculous to you, so unfathomable, that the same woman who would even refuse to buy you candy and instead offer you jars of various fruit compotes, would all of a sudden abandon her moral standing on processed and stored bought food out of convenience. Yet there it was, between rice and pasta, you found the package of instant soba. Grabbing the plastic package, you carefully inspected it to make sure you weren't hallucinating. “Peyoung Yakisoba” you read out loud. Baffled at your discovery, you remained silent, carefully reading through the ingredients’ list. 

Heavy footsteps rippled through the silence. There she is, you figured it would be your grandmother walking towards you considering your mother had a habit of announcing her entrance. The footsteps grew closer and stopped, your grandmother must be close to the kitchen. “Gran, you shouldn't be eating this stuff” you lectured, your back still facing her and your eyes skimming over the nutritional label. “The amount of sodium in this pack is crazy. That can't be healthy for you” “Oh how thoughtful” 

You inhaled sharply as a deep male voice responded to you back. Swiftly turning around, you were met with a tall man leaning against the door frame, arms crossed in front of his body, his sharp eyes watching your every move. You had already recognized him by his voice, the deep rasp of his tone haunting you to the core. Before, you stood none other than the stranger you met in the train yesterday, but this time, you got an even better look at him. The ravenette looked even more handsome during daylight you found, mesmerized by the silky long hair and the tattoos peeking under the collar and sleeves of his navy hoodie. The same silver rings as last night adorned his fingers, and with the way you studied them his hands last night, you were almost certain you'd recognize them among a thousand pairs. This time, however, you were able to rip yourself gaze off of him on your own with having him snap you out of your trance like state. He had this effect on you, and you deeply loathed it.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” you pressed, forcing your voice to remain steady. The man wasn't impressed with your faux display of confidence and instead let his eyes roam over your body. You wanted to hide your body from his gaze, regretting not having thrown on at least a robe over your short nightgown. There was little to be left for his imagination, as your gown was barely hiding anything: your legs, neck, cleavage and shoulders were exposed to him, the fit accentuated the shape of your hips and chest as well. You might as well have stood naked in front of him, it wouldn't have made a big difference to you as the skimpy cloth couldn't shield you from him. His brown eyes finally traveled up to your face. The expression on his face remained unreadable, though you swore you spotted a light furrowed on his brows. You were about to repeat your question louder this time and demand answers, until he spoke up first. “‘m not here for you” he expressed unenthusiastically, although the way he licked his lips made you think otherwise. 

He stepped away from the door frame, straightening his back as soon as you heard another pair of footsteps coming towards the kitchen. Dreading washed over you. You weren't ready for a second intruder. Bracing yourself on what comes next, your mind went into a frenzied survival state, ready to grab the nearest objects and throw them at the home invaders. 

But no big, strong, scary looking man showed up. Instead, your grandmother tapped her way into the kitchen entrance with her walking stick. “Oh, goodness gracious, what are you wearing?” her mouth fell agape when she saw your skimpy nightgown, nudging the strange man into his ribs. “Keisuke, do not look! This is improper!” Even more questions arose inside your head when the stranger – Keisuke – obeyed and averted his gaze from you wordlessly. Who is he? Why is he here? How does grandma know him? Why is he always checking you out? Those were the questions you knew you would be demanding answers for.

You watched the man whose eyes roamed your form shamelessly avoid eye contact with you after your grandmother entered the scene. Eyebrows knitted in confusion at the absurd turn of events, you tried to make sense of what had just happened, not noticing your grandmother hastily walking over to you. You only snapped out when you felt the handle of the wooden walking stick poking your side. “Do not stand here like you're a statue. Go! Get dressed! You can't be walking around half naked when a man is around!” she demanded, each poke becoming increasingly more aggressive. Heat rushed to your face as you nodded your head bashfully at the elderly woman before you headed out of the kitchen. Your shoulder lightly bumped into the ravenette when you walked out “Sorry” you mumbled out to him, being careful so your grandmother wouldn't hear you talk to him. After all, you really didn't want to invoke her anger one more time. Without even looking at you, the ravenette clicked his tongue at you “Yeah, you better be. She's gon’ lecture us as soon as you come back” he grumbled back. You wordlessly left, walking up the stairs to your bedroom as silently as you could.

Upon opening the wooden door, you discovered that your mother had left your bedroom, leaving only a sleeping Marigold on your bed. Thankfully. You would need the silence to fully comprehend what had just transpired and to pick out an outfit that would be up to your grandmother's liking. This will be a long day.

[daryascurse]

𝙲𝙰𝚅𝙴𝙰𝚃 𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝙾𝚁

── Part IV: Cui Bono Fuerit

“So you knew I would come?” you panted as he stood firm between your bowed knees. “So you thought I would be – what – stupid?” “Services stopped.” Coriolanus’s breath was ragged as he snapped back to you. His thumb brushed your jawline, tilting your head up to meet his searing gaze. “No, I shouldn’t have said stupid. I knew you’d be reckless.”

chapter pov : 2nd person reader, AFAB reader, feminine pronouns ❀ tags: hate sεx, elevator sεx, biting ❀ word count: ~4.4k ❀ ao3 ❀playlist

I have a very strict adult-only interaction policy. Ageless, blank, and clearly minor-run blogs that interact will be blocked. If you have questions about what that means, please read the byf in my pinned post.

See header "Caveat Emptor" link for table of contents/ chapter 1.

“The Hunger Games?”

You squinted at the painter’s tape plastered firmly over the screen, right below your name and beaming holographic portrait, covering the previous assignment. Hollisee Tympan shot a glance at you over the shoulder of his stiff plaid suit as he pressed the corner of the tape down and stepped back.

“Lucky,” hissed the mouth-breathing Elysia Byron. Her salivating was practically audible.

“I thought I would be starting off in the markets,” you said to no one in particular. “Down at the banks. In the financial district.”

Harrier Bulla was over your other shoulder. “You say you’d rather have the financial markets than the Hunger Games?”

You were still staring at the black ink saying the same three words that blubbered out of his mouth.

“It’s gotten huge the last few years,” Elysia Byron said. “Mr. Tympan, would the Games benefit from perhaps one more page from the station?”

“Or two?”

Mr. Tympan blinked wide, watery eyes at their slimy wheedling. “Mr. Bulla, CapiTV is lucky to have the presence of one page to represent the station. The administration is still wary of the security threats and this is the first year they’re even doing a trial run with outside network involvement. And we don’t get a stipend for it, either. If you had been listening during orientation, you might have heard that.”

“Aren’t you in fashion and style, anyway?” asked Harrier. “What could a style page do at the Games?”

Elysia made a huffing sound. “Actually, style would be very important to cover at the Games.”

“What exactly shall I be covering, anyway?” you asked Mr. Tympan cautiously.

Mr. Tympan shot another look at Harrier and Elysia behind you, all but sticking their tongues out childishly at each other. “Well, you’ll receive a formal memorandum shortly. But we’d like you to focus on backstage operations. We don’t have the equipment – or the manpower – ” which was said loudly to cut off Harrier’s mouth as it opened again “ – to even negotiate a CapiTV presence up front with the Flickerman production. And of course they’ll be doing the main interviews, telling the tribute story. But they’re outsourcing to CapiTV to create something for the slower moments when Lucky needs a break. You won’t be behind the camera, but you’ll be supplying our broadcasters with the inspiration and information to fill that time. And the audience will need some breaks from Lucky, too, while still remaining engaged in the Games.”

“Capitol Television. The Capitol’s vision, to you,” Harrier recited the station’s motto with a toadyish excitement. Elysia rolled her eyes and you prided yourself on the ability to resist the same.

“So it’s just glamorized B-roll,” Elysia said snottily.

Mr. Tympan only blinked at her before turning to walk away.

The other pages began to come up to the screens, and when Harrier and Elysia turned to whisper the new development to them, you began your hasty steps after.

“Mr. Tympan – sorry. One more question.”

“You’ll get the memorandum,” he said, looking down at the papers he thumbed through a binder.

“Well – I mean, I’m flattered,” you said, and caught yourself twisting your hands. “But I wanted to ask why I was the one transferred over. I don’t think I indicated any interest in working for the Games in my page application.”

“You didn’t, and that’s why,” Mr. Tympan said. “I trusted even with your lack of interest you paid more attention than Ms. Byron did to the security briefings in orientation. Even with the last bomb threat being two years ago, the Capitol’s priority is safety and discretion. Each year has to bring improvement in all areas. And you’ve proven yourself… capable of such discretion.”

Given his pause, you weren’t sure if it was something you’ve done in the last two weeks of orientation, or something further back that’d earned you such esteem. You narrowed your eyes and looked quickly away. Mr. Tympan wasn’t familiar from the days of moonlighting that had put you through school. You had secure faith in your memory. But the network had many officers…

“I can keep my mouth shut,” you said, but Mr. Tympan was already walking away again.

-

The Hunger Games.

It was an anxious thrill that sprang through you, and you raised a soothing hand to circle your belly automatically. But the Peacekeeper at the door turned his helmet towards you at the movement, so you slipped the identification badge between your fingers and raised the card instead.

“I’m from CapiTV,” you said.

He snapped it from your hand with a force that rubbed the lanyard cord hot and painful at the back of your neck. You forced yourself to remain stoic as he investigated the photograph, the same beaming face on the hologram taken as your thoughts were full of financial news dreams.

“How exciting for you,” he grunted.

“Very. Yes, exciting,” you breathed.

Elysia Byron, Harrier Bulla, and then a third page, Kit Crocum, all left calls attempting in some way to convince you to swap posts. “You wanted finance,” Kit had wailed, convinced somehow that being assigned the banks and markets meant that you had stolen the Games from him as the rightful owner.

“I just don’t think it’s up to me to trade,” was how you deflected them all.

When the Peacekeeper held the heavy steel door open with an instruction to go to the sixth floor, you walked past a portrait of Coriolanus Snow. You looked down at your badge again. Yes, you had wanted to work on financial news. You had also wanted to live on the moon as a child.

Moreover, a lot had happened in the time between filling out the interests sheet in the spring and this early summer morning.

You turned your head at the elevator, and it was like his stern blue eyes could follow you all the way down the corridor. You felt the stare prickle on your skin as the elevator rose. The doors opened and you were rubbing the back of your arm subconsciously.

An Avox led you down sea-green steps. They must have been made of some newly engineered glass that didn’t shatter under your sensible heels, but the material dazzled and shone across the floor like an old-fashioned soda bottle you remembered from history classes. Each step made the sound of a diamond falling, and as you approached the small crowd at the buffet table, hundreds of shuffling shoes made the sound echo again and again like an opulent hailstorm. A space opened as two women in high-buttoned suits swept away from the table, where rich brown drapery flowed under platters of canape and thick slices of meat.

Your mouth watered and you thought of the stale crackers in the CapiTV break room.

“Good afternoon. Good afternoon.”

The woman’s voice was icy and clear, cleaving through the dim chatter of colleagues. You snuck a glance towards the front of the room. Backs and elbows blocked your view, and so you discreetly slid a few biscuit cups filled with whipped egg and topped with some green and orange somethings onto a napkin.

“Welcome, media representatives, to the first stages of the Fourteenth Hunger Games,” the woman’s voice continued.

You could see her now, a woman whose golden hair spiraled silver at her temples and shone in two shades of metallic. Her nose was strong, and her gaze somehow pinched. She leaned into the tall iron microphone, her full lips caged behind the netting.

“I am sorry that Dr. Gaul couldn’t come for one last farewell,” she said without further introduction. And from looking at the knowing glances between the crowd, they recognized her without requiring one. You looked down at the eggs nestled in the napkin cupped in your palm.

Well, they each had to have worked their first Games at some point.

You popped one in your mouth and tasted onion and paprika sinking between your teeth.

“Unfortunately, she’s taken ill in the days following retirement, but we wish her the best and a speedy recovery. Fortunately, she completed transitioning our new Head Gamemaker fully into the position, and he’s been hard at work preparing our new Games to start come July. Everything is on schedule, and we’ll have a briefing sheet to bring back to your –” and she sniffed, before smiling tightly “ – little television studios. And he’s taken time out of his busy day to greet you himself.”

The thin crowd swelled around you a moment with a flurry of questions, and you saw the tips of ten perfectly manicured claws rise in the air.

“No, there will be no chances for an exclusive interview. Not today,” she said firmly. Not ever. “Everyone, Mr. Coriolanus Snow.”

You clenched your hand into a fist. The egg burst, creamy white and crumbled biscuit crumbs surging between your fingers, leaking through the thin veil of napkin.

“Thank you, Ms. Trinket.”

He melted out of the crowd, and you snapped your neck back wildly, as if you could recreate where he had come from. You blinked. Blinked again. The egg was tacky against the sweat beading in your palm. There was no reason to be surprised. His portrait had just been in the hall, after all. You should have known; you did know, from the moment you saw that strip of painter’s tape. But you’d never let yourself actually think it so plainly.

“Anastasia Trinket,” Coriolanus said into the microphone. His smile was dazzling, an errant curl artfully falling over his forehead as he turned that smile to her. He had his hands raised in applause. His fingernails were square and clean.

Everyone was applauding now, and you used the excuse of the mess in your hands to turn behind the crimson-suited man in front of you to drop it to the table. You grabbed a napkin and wiped between your fingers, nervously glancing between Coriolanus and the other members of the press.

He looked right at you and the corners of his lips curled.

“Thank you for coming.”

You found it in you at last to clap along, and you gave a few measured, off-beat smacks.

“Let me repeat Ms. Trinket and welcome you again. The Hunger Games this year promise to be our best yet, and we hope that the press will help bring this event to the eyes of all of Panem. Now, you’ll have to see most of it live as the rest of us, but we have prepared a confidential media briefing for your stations, so that you may begin necessary preparations and preview for the citizens of the Capitol what they may expect.”

Coriolanus reached inside his black silk jacket, and the press around you began to pull tablets or recording devices from their pockets and bags. You cleared your throat and unclipped the microphone card attached to your blouse.

“We are very excited to announce that this year, we have at last achieved the goal of hosting the Games in a new arena,” he said, beginning to glance up from a sheet of paper and innocently flitting his gaze to you, to someone on one side, back to you. Your hand was frozen on the blinking recording light. “While the Second Arena has served us will these past few years, the Fourteenth Hunger Games shall move to a new and improved location.”

“Excuse me, will they still be held in the Capitol?”

Ms. Trinket yanked the mic stand to her mouth. “There will be a short time for questions after the briefing,” she snapped.

“For security reasons,” Coriolanus said, in a manner smooth and cold, “we will not be revealing where the new arena is located. However, rest assured that for this same reason, this arena was not built in the Capitol. Nor will any other. For now that we know it is possible to design, engineer, build, and fully synchronize an arena with Capitol control within a year, each Hunger Game will be held in an entirely new and different arena.”

There was a snap of grumbling behind you. Coriolanus’ lips turned in a sneer once more, and you ground your heel into the glass floor.

“So, we have no direct media access to the Games? No cameras and reporters at the arena?” you called out before being able to stop yourself.

Ms. Trinket’s vein threatened to burst out of her forehead, and you almost believed Coriolanus’ face went a shade paler. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for a response, and licked your lip.

“The arena cameras have been enhanced and received a software update,” Coriolanus said almost too quickly. It made your heartbeat a little more even. “Every studio will receive the same feed as always. And the tributes will still train here, and speak to Mr. Flickerman here. That access is the same, which has always been the only real opportunity for first-hand reporting.”

You tapped your foot and said nothing more. And you heard nothing more, too, thankful for the recording card pinned to your shirt. The strength you had pulled out of yourself to move your tongue burned through to your brain, and you were slowly beginning to feel it turn to belligerent epiphany.

He did this. He did this because you had done it, two weeks ago. The longer you stayed silent, the more that steely shine returned to his eye with each haughty glance at you. Once more he was on stage and you captive in the audience; but this time, he was the tiger prowling beyond the bars and locked the human in.

You crossed your arms at the waist and pressed into yourself.

Could it be that he had pulled the strings, all the way to the news studio?

Of course he could.

Coriolanus rolled up the paper at last, and Ms. Trinket moved forward to announce that questions were now welcome. You fidgeted.

There was a flash of memory, of fidgeting and tightening your thigh muscles at the ministrations that silver tongue of his worked between your legs. You tensed again. It did not alleviate.

“Actually,” Coriolanus interjected, “I apologize, but Ms. Trinket will answer your questions. I unfortunately have last minute business to attend to, with the reaping at the week's end. We of course will send invitations to your stations to Lucky Flickerman’s commentary conference. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your time.”

He turned to give her another few claps of applause, and the crowd fell in line. Coriolanus smiled politely and moved into the crowd. A few offered their hands to receive a brief shake; a gentleman attempted to give him a hearty clap on the back, which earned a stiff half-smile in response. His eyes slid over you, triumphantly caged in by the swaying bars of applauding hands all around.

“Excuse me,” you said, nearly turning into the woman on your right as you turned to push to the back of the crowd yourself.

But Coriolanus had taken a different stream, and when you made it to where only Avoxes stood silent at the wall, he was at the foot of those shallow sea-glass stairs. You cast a glance back at the rest of the press and took hurried steps.

“Coryo – ”

It felt wrong to call for him, as soft as it was.

He barely craned his neck back as he pushed the elevator button.

“I’m sorry, perhaps you didn’t hear Anastasia earlier. There won’t be any exclusives through this media program.”

“And did you get me assigned to this program?”

The doors opened and warm orange light spilled out.

“We had to approve the names each studio submitted,” Coriolanus said measuredly. “For security. You understand.”

“I don’t.”

You stepped inside the elevator after him, and held a hand against the frame. Coriolanus looked over your shoulder to the gathering below.

“Though we didn’t review for competence,” he murmured. “You’re missing the questions and answers. It would be a shame for your station to be behind the curve so early in the Games.”

You tilted your head at him and tightened your eyes. “As if she’s going to give away any trade secrets.”

“Trade secrets,” Coriolanus sighed with exaggeration, “are certainly not on the table. Glad to see CapiTV sends their brightest. Well, good day. I really do have things to attend to.”

He moved to reach for the button to urge the doors closed, almost physically puffed up and preening with his own ego. Your fingers curled at the elevator doors and then stepped inside.

“Coriolanus, I don’t know – ”

The doors slid closed, and Coriolanus lunged forward.

“No, you don’t,” he said, seething, and one hand slammed past your head to the wall behind you. The other reached up to your blouse, and before your eyes, ripped the microphone cord clean off the card.

“You certainly don’t,” Coriolanus continued, and now, without any other eyes or ears he could not keep the curl of his lip off his shining teeth. His blue stare was wild. “Clearly you don’t if you’re so stupid to approach me like this today. Again.”

“You invited me here,” you spat.

“Please select a floor,” the elevator’s automatic voice sang.

Coriolanus punched something in the panel, flinging your microphone to the floor. The elevator began to rise.

“Going up.”

“Anyone could have looked up. Any one of those journalists or reporters could have looked back at the elevator just now.”

“I’ll leave,” you said. “Just bring it back down to the lobby.”

Coriolanus huffed. “You know I was trying to do something nice? I saw your plans in the graduation program, and I felt sorry for you. Clearly you aren’t making much of what your degree is worth, taking a job at CapiTV, of all places. Their reporter has been drunk on camera the last two Games, but I thought maybe I’d give you a shot to turn things around, for you, and your career. I thought I’d do you a favor. Maybe the Games would give you a chance to hone some of your, shall we say, more academic talents.”

Bullshit. “Bullshit,” you said, turning your chin up in his face. “It’s because you wanted me to feel how you felt at graduation. That’s why you organized this little briefing for everyone, isn’t it?”

“How I felt?”

“I’m sorry, Coriolanus, if I had the luxury of knowing that I’d be hearing your valedictorian speech. I’m sorry that you hadn’t bothered to recognize your own classmate outside of school. But I thought I apologized for anything I might have done that day.”

And I shouldn’t have.

“How could you know what I felt?” Coriolanus snarled. “You have no idea what I had planned for that day. I had everything planned, this whole summer, and one day – very important day – was enough to throw it all off track.”

“And that’s my fault?” You were almost shrieking with laughter at the absurdity. “I didn’t make you come to the club, and I didn’t make you lick my pussy.”

The words were delicious coming out of your mouth. You grinned, wild, practically spitting in the face of this ringmaster even as you remembered seeing that face so beautifully framed between your thighs.

“You wanted to.”

Coriolanus’s mouth crashed on yours at that, with the familiar taste of anger on his tongue. You could have bitten him. But you kissed him back and chased that taste; clawed at him instead, tugging his neat shirt from his pants to allow your fingernails up his bare back where your touch could rake at his skin. He hissed.

The elevator began to slow.

“Doors,” you gasped, and his arm muscle flexed out to hit another button.

“Services stopped.”

Coriolanus almost slammed you into the wall. He had his fists on your skirt, your neat, smart little black pencil skirt, and he was scrunching it high on your hips. His body was hot against yours, and his wiry strength was a bruising grip on your thigh. Your hands were just as busy, frantically unbuckling his belt, trying to find the space to tug down his zipper.

“Coriolanus,” you gasped.

He was half-mad with rage, with something hungrier and full of desire. Your knee fell open as you were propped on the railing, and you lurched back and clutched wildly at the brass for balance. The careful slick of his hair was breaking free from the gel casing, and Coriolanus breathed heavily, a string of saliva snapping between his parted lips.

“There’s – the – cam-”

“No cameras,” he said in one breath. He leaned forward, and his lips ghosted on the shell of your ear, sending spikes across your skin and down your back. “I turned them off this morning.”

You moaned and felt the threatening rush tremble between your legs again. The pressure in your blood beat faster, harder, with excitement turned anew once more at the stimulus.

“So you knew I would come?” you panted as he stood firm between your bowed knees. “So you thought I would be – what – stupid?”

“Services stopped.”

Coriolanus’s breath was ragged as he snapped back to you. His thumb brushed your jawline, tilting your head up to meet his searing gaze. “No, I shouldn’t have said stupid. I knew you’d be reckless.”

The words hit you sharply, as sharply as the edge of his teeth grazing your throat. You would have laughed if it was still the time for incredulity. And then he was in you, your breath hitching as the weight of his body into your stomach pushed you against the elevator wall with each thrust. You saw the cameras in the corner at last, little black caps carefully snapped over the lens.

The world could be watching, if it had the eyes to look.

“How did you do it?”

Any of it.

His thumb smeared down your cheek, pulling your mouth into the space for a lopsided breath as you gasped out the words.

“Does it matter? I’m Head Gamemaster, aren’t I?”

Coriolanus kissed you again. You let your teeth tug at his lips this time, and the groan from his lungs was intoxicating.

He was tense and throbbing in you, and you had to lean into him, had to use him as a plinth of support in this precarious balance. Your blouse was stuck to your back in an awkward rumple of sweat, and your nipples ached untouched under your bra. His hands had come both to your thighs to pin you there on the railing, keep your hips stilled as he moved in you harder, harder still.

Your ankles have locked together against his against his back. You realized it only when the elevator jolted suddenly, and you gasped sharply, a heel sliding off and slapping to the floor.

“Services stopped.”

It was just the shaking of your bodies, but for a moment, you feared that someone had called for the elevator.

“Oh,” you whispered. You were angry at the thought of someone interrupting, and your teeth chattered at the realization. Chattered more at the stillness of Coriolanus in you that was leaving you full, full, stretched so you could barely manage it. Your hips were just heavy lead under his touch.

Coriolanus sucked his breath in, and you had to meet his eyes that for once matched his in wild fervor. You whimpered a surrender.

“Don’t stop…”

He pushed again and he was fucking you as far as he could go at this curled angle. By now, his hands were all of what kept you to the railing. The desire to squirm away at the weight had left you squirming as best you could. Any last strength you had in your body, nor your brain, had melted away.

It was rough and quick. Your cunt was greedy and you choked on the wail as you felt the desperate convulsing of your inner walls. That was it. Coriolanus was coming too, with each spurt hot and somehow making your legs shake even harder at the delicate sense of it. The elevator creaked faintly.

He was in you still when he lifted his face, those loose blonde curls now plastered to his forehead. With a moan from him and a full shudder from you, he pulled his cock away. Cream spattered onto the carpet. He was still holding you to the railing. Your ankles were still hooked at his thighs. You stayed a few seconds more in this silence with your back pressed to the metal wall.

“Services stopped.”

Coriolanus looked down, and stepped back. His mouth was torn up with your lipstick. He wiped the back of his hand against his face as if he could feel it and looked at the remnants. You slid down and shimmied your skirt back in place.

He swiped at his face a few moments more before sighing loudly and tugging his shirt back into his pants. As you reached down for your abandoned heel, he pushed another button on the elevator panel.

“Going down.”

You saw your microphone, the net of the speaker dented under someone’s errant foot. Coriolanus’s foot, most likely. You clenched it in your palm as you straightened again.

“You didn’t do this to help me,” you said slowly. “You wanted me to come to you. To show me what you can control.”

Coriolanus turned away from you, combing his blonde hair back with his fingers. “I don’t need to control you,” he said.

“But you do, don’t you? You want what you paid for. But the transactions are done.”

He scoffed. A lesser-mannered man would have spit on the ground after that sound. “So you want more money.”

“No. No, I mean it. I don’t want your money, I don’t need it. I never had.”

“That’s a lie,” Coriolanus said haughtily. You ground your teeth.

He was, unfortunately right. You had been too wild in your speech to catch it.

“So tell me,” Coriolanus continued, turning back to you, “what’s going to happen now? Will you quit, now that you see which pockets your salary truly comes from?”

His hands came around your head and locked you where you stood. He pressed his forehead to yours. You could taste his breath on the air as his pupils narrowed.

“What’s more important to you, little CapiTV page? Your career, or keeping your hands clean of me?”

Your thighs shook. You stared at his lips. You remembered every touch of them vividly. As if Coriolanus could feel where your eyes burned, he slipped into a low grin. The canines showed.

Part V: TBC

[devildomcuties]

Model for Me

pairing: satan x f. reader

genre: smut, established relationship, 18+

summary: Satan discovers drawing is like meditation and asks you to model for him.

wc: 2k

warnings: dialogue from the texts 'Model For Me', demonus, pet names (love, babe, kitten, good girl), marking (biting, hickeys, bruises), possesiveness, unprotected sex, creampie

Date: April 1, 2025

“I’d like to draw a side of you only I know.”

Satan’s words come to the forefront of your mind as you loosen the sash on your green silky robe. 

Diavolo has called everyone except for you and Satan on an expedition to the Human World, a favor you asked for so you and Satan could be alone without interruptions.

The black, rolled arm chaise lounge sits in the middle of the garden, bright lights placed nearby to give Satan enough light to work with.

A table sits nearby with flutes of Demonus. A flute in your hand as you take a seat on the chaise lounge.

You’ve arrived a few minutes early to make sure everything is ready for Satan, and now you can sip your drink and relax as Satan heads your way, a thick leather-bound sketchbook in his hands.

“You went all out, huh?” Satan asks as he takes a seat a few feet away from you. A smile appears on your lips as you set the flute back on the table with the rest.

You head to Satan, easily sitting in his lap, your arms loosely draped on his shoulders. “Of course. Only the best for you.”

Satan grins. His forehead presses against yours, thanking you softly before you kiss his cheek.

“Want to get started?” You ask as you carefully climb off his lap. His hands linger on your hips, not wanting to let you go, especially when your robe slips down your shoulder, exposing your skin.

How long had it been since the two of you had the House of Lamentation to yourselves?

Too damn long.

Satan swallows thickly, debating drawing you like he so desperately had been wanting to, or taking you to his bedroom or the library to ravish you until you lose your voice from screaming his name loud enough to fill the empty halls of your shared home.

“Love?” You probe gently, your fingers lifting his chin so he looks up at you. His eyes shine brightly, with adoration in them. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I’m ready.”

“Good, how do you want me?”

On your hands and knees, taking me so deep, you feel me in your stom-

Satan shakes his head, clearing any salacious thoughts as he motions to the chaise lounge. “Start sitting, and I’ll let you know how to pose once I get settled.”

“Sure thing, love. I’m yours to do with as you please,” you say earnestly as you sit on the chaise lounge with one leg crossed over the other. It’s then that Satan notices the anklet on your left ankle; it glimmers when the light hits it. A gold S and a little gold heart.

Satan doesn’t think his cock can get any harder as he slumps in his seat. His cheeks flush with heat, sweat beads on his forehead as he opens his sketchbook with shaky hands. 

Perhaps a cold shower would be more ideal than drawing you. Or maybe, he should move this to the bathroom where he can sprayed by cold water while he tries to draw you.

It’s not like this was the first time he’d seen you wearing so little, but the robe matched his nails, and the anklet kept sparkling every time you moved. 

The pencil in his hand presses harshly to a blank page in his book. He inhales deeply as he forces himself to look at you, ignoring the throb of his cock when his eyes land on your perfect physique.

Fuck, if he didn’t want to devour you whole.

How was he supposed to draw your every perfection? How could he capture every perfect bit of you? Drawing was supposed to calm him like it had before at his friend’s place, but your beauty was more outstanding than the model he’d roughly sketched that day.

He figured this would be a good bonding/date type thing the both of you could do together but you were sitting there, waiting for his command, and he wanted to ravish you; fuck you like an animal, fill you full of his cum and then fuck it all back into you.

Wouldn’t you look gorgeous with his cum streaked across your face? A perfect masterpiece that made his dick twitch.

Shit, what were you doing to him?

Get it together, Satan scolds himself as you wait for his instruction. He moves toward you with slow, sure steps as he has you lie on your right side, your hand delicately placed on your cheek. He then loosens the robe enough to expose your breast, and with a few more adjustments, he’s ready to get started.

Satan focuses on you as he sketches, attempting to capture every curve and every line of your marvelous self. 

You do your best to stay still until your first break. Satan has your outline down, and a few details. He could easily finish the rest from memory, but you’re eager to see it through until the end.

You share a flute of Demonus with him, kissing him to allow the drink to fill his mouth. Satan groans, cursing as he pulls you onto his lap.

“Don’t start what you don’t intend to finish,” Satan warns in a low tone. He’s on the edge of slipping, of letting his demon form free.

You undo the sash, allowing the robe to slip and bunch at your hips as you place your hands on his shoulders. “I want to make you finish.”

Satan growls, gripping your hips, causing you to rub against his erection.

He can’t take much more of your teasing. His lips capture yours in a deep kiss that makes your heart skip a beat. Your fingers grip his blond hair, tugging to make him moan against your lips. His tongue meets yours, deepening the kiss as you unbutton his shirt, helping him out of it.

You need him, your body craving his touch, his kiss. 

“Satan!” You cry out as he nips your neck, leaving his mark behind as he takes a nipple into his mouth. You arch your back and hold him to your chest as you focus long enough to make the rest of his clothes disappear.

Satan isn’t the least bit surprised. Instead, he grabs your ass, squeezing it before you crash your lips to his as he lines up at your entrance.

“Fuck,” you groan as your eyes squeeze shut. He’s so thick, the familiar ache so fucking good. He slides home easily, moaning your name as he pulls out just enough to see how you’re already creaming his cock.

The two of you could barely keep your hands off each other, and it’s not surprising that your little session has led to the two of you fucking like your lives depend on it.

Satan cups your face, his eyes locked on yours as you bounce on his length. “You’re so beautiful.”

You lean into his touch, turning your head just enough to take his thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip before releasing it.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, eyes hooded before he kisses you again. You grind on him as one hand holds your hip, the other grips the back of your head like a lifeline. He never wants to let you go. He’d keep you locked in his bedroom if he could, if he knew Lucifer and Diavolo wouldn’t tear down the House of Lamentation free you.

You were his, and he was yours. 

That’s how it was always meant to be.

“Satan,” you moan wanton when his lips trail kisses to your neck, your hips slowly moving against his before you end up on your back underneath him. The chaise lounge squeaks in protest, but neither of you cares as he pulls out just to slam into you.

Your hand moves over your head to grab the arm of the seat as Satan slides his hand up your thigh that you’ve wrapped around him.

“Always so pretty like this,” He comments as he fucks into you, licking his lips when your tits bounce with each of his thrusts. You moan his name, cursing him for being so thick, for fucking you so good… you’re not even sure you’re making sense as he drives into you again and again the obscene noises of your coupling falling on deaf ears.

“That’s it, kitten. Take this cock like the good girl you are,” Satan groans as you tighten around him. His head lolls back, exposing his pretty throat. You should mark it with deep reds and purples, mark him as yours for everyone to see.

Satan chuckles.

Did you say that aloud?

Your hands grip his forearms, nails digging into his skin as he tugs you closer, one hand around your throat as you come undone.

“Satan! Satan!” you cry out as pleasure consumes you from the tip of your toes to the top of your head, leaving you shaking and clenching around him. He curses your name, loosening his hold on your throat as he brings your ankles to his shoulders. 

Satan is gentle when he kisses your left ankle, his teeth tugging on the S.

“You’re mine,” he states as he allows your legs to slide back down to his waist. He presses his forehead to yours, nose to nose, as he whispers, “I love you.”

“I love you,” you whisper before his lips meet yours. You kiss him, hoping he’ll get a taste of how much you care for him, how much you love him.

“Good,” he smirks. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you can ask what he means, he turns you on your side as he slides in behind you on the chaise lounge. His lips meet your shoulders as he lifts your left leg over his. He grinds into you slowly, fucking you slower.

You moan as he fills you deeper, his hand rubbing your clit and you know you won’t last long, not when he’s fucking you so deep, so good.

Satan’s tongue licks your neck, and you melt as he holds you close, rubbing tight circles on your clit until you tremble, falling apart for him. 

“Go ahead, let go.”

“Satan,” his name rolls off your tongue in a heady cry, and it’s what sets him off, has him holding you tight as he cums deep inside you with a groan. He buries his face in your shoulder, muffling the desperate cry of your name as he cums hard.

It takes a few minutes for you to gather your senses, smiling like a fool as Satan slowly lowers your leg after he pulls out. 

“Hi,” he grins as he rests his chin on your side. 

“Hi,” you smile, your fingers running through his messy hair.

Your robe is stuck under you, bunching almost painfully, but you don’t care as you pull Satan closer. You manage to roll onto your side to face him, draping your leg over him.

Satan rests his hand on your hip, where a few bruises already form from earlier. 

“Thank you for doing this for me,” he says as he looks you in the eye. He had a hard time controlling his emotions, but he always tried his best when it came to you. He had promised himself he’d be truthful with you, no matter how difficult it was for him to get the words out, to express himself.

“I would do anything for you,” you cup his cheek. “I hope you know that.”

“I do,” Satan nods. 

“So, how’s the drawing coming?” you tease, and he glares at you playfully.

“Gonna have to make a few adjustments,” he teases.

“Oh? Like what?”

“Like the cum dripping from you unless I fuck it back in,” He smiles smuggly. You shove him gently, rolling your eyes.

“I’m a masterpiece,” you laugh as you spread your legs further. Satan agrees easily as he lines himself up at your entrance.

“How about I paint you from the inside?” Satan smirks, and you giggle.

“You’re ridiculous!”

“And you love me anyways.”

“That I do,” you confirm, kissing him as he slides into you. You grip his shoulders, your moan muffled by his pretty lips.

Satan’s not sure if he’ll ever finish the drawing left forgotten in his sketchbook, but he’s more than happy to end up inside you again and again with every attempt.

[heich0e]

POLY!SUNAOSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

"tilt—ngh—tilt the camera d-down."

it takes a minute for osamu to heed the request, reaching up and adjusting his cellphone against the pillow so that it's at a slightly steeper angle.

"y' didn't even say please," samu rasps out, his tone smug and teasing, before settling back into his original position within the video call's frame: flat on his stomach in the middle of your shared bed, face first between your spread, trembling legs.

"she wet?" suna asks, his voice strained and his breaths panting.

osamu hums affirmatively, and when he licks a broad, noisy stripe up your pussy you can feel the way the sound reverberates against you—it makes you moan. "wet and messy, just how you like her."

"fuck." rintarou's answering whimper makes your toes curl. "show me."

osamu's got his lips around your clit, suckling softly and making your head spin. he glances up at the camera, a brow quirked, as the tip of his tongue orbits the sensitive little bud. you can't see rintarou's face from where you're laying, flat on your back, a hand pressed to your mouth as you're lost in the pleasure osamu is giving you so freely, but the sound that comes from his end of the call is broken and needy.

"please show me, samu. wanna see it. wanna see her."

osamu laughs lightly, a fond little sound, and you feel the way his warm breath catches in the slickness between your thighs. "alright, alright."

osamu runs his hands up your thighs, squeezing lightly—a gentle, reassuring gesture—as he rises up to his knees as reaches for the phone at the head of the bed.

"huu—" he breathes out a long, satisfied breath, pushing his hair back from his face with one hand and holding his cellphone with the other. "rin, yer so worked up."

"yeah," your boyfriend's voice on the other end of the video call is thready.

"so's this little thing," osamu chuckles, tapping the screen to flip the camera and pointing the device to best fit you in the frame. you're beyond wrecked. samu's been at it for well over an hour now, pulling one orgasm after the next out of you. suna had only gotten home from practice a short while ago and called to check in, and you'd already cum at least twice before the phone had started ringing.

you've lost count of just how many times osamu had pulled you over the edge since then.

"oh," it sounds like rintarou's surprised at the state of you—but not in a remotely unpleasant way. "look at her."

"rin," you warble, pushing yourself up onto your elbow unsteadily and reaching up for the phone. osamu holds it just out of your reach and you whine a bit. "wanna see him too," you complain.

samu flips the camera again and then turns the phone to face you, still holding the device himself. rintarou's cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, his lips parted as he pants on the screen. you can still hear him stroking his cock on the other end of the call, a slow, slick rhythm that picks up the pace ever so slightly when you quietly go:

"hi, rin."

"hi, baby," he answers breathlessly. the tempo increases again. "you feeling good?"

"yeah," you answer. "you have a good day?"

he grunts a little, his eyelids fluttering. "b-better now."

osamu rests back on his haunches, watching you watch suna on the other end of the call.

"you gonna cum, rin?" the man above you asks. his tone isn't teasing now, it's yearning—thick with a heavy want.

"'m close," rintarou mumbles from the other line.

"wish you were here," samu answers, shifting in the bed so his back is against the headboard. you follow without being asked, crawling up onto his chest so the two of you can watch the scene unfolding on the phone screen together. you can feel his heartbeat thundering underneath your cheek.

"y-yeah, miss you—ah!" rintarou's breath hiccups, his head tilting back and exposing the long, elegant line of his throat. the low light of his nagano bedroom catches in the sheen of perspiration against his skin. you think about all the times you've tasted it. think about the way he smells. something churns in the pit of your stomach, as aching as it is divine.

you're so captivated by the sight, that the hand osamu isn't using to hold the phone up over you both has snuck between your legs again without you noticing, and you gasp when you feel his thumb slip against your clit again, your hips jumping in surprise. osamu's breaths are laboured now too, and if you aren't careful you're fairly certain all three of you are going to be cumming soon.

"missin' us? that's no good," osamu murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hairline as his middle and ring finger slip down and press inside your already tender cunt. you moan quietly, fighting to keep your eyes open so you don't miss a second of rintarou's own pleasure. you clench down around osamu's fingers, and he laughs. "fuck you should feel how tight our baby's clampin' down on me, rin. this pussy must be missing you too."

on the other end of the call, rintarou lets out a sound that's halfway between a laugh and a sob, and soaked with pleasure. osamu presses an open mouthed kiss to your throat, his eyes still fixed unwaveringly to the screen—as bewitched as you are to the sight of your long-distance boyfriend rapidly coming undone.

"guess you'll just have to come home to us soon, huh?"

[90sbee]

Dying is not an option (when you're by my side)

Leon S. Kennedy x Gn!reader

1k words. Also on a03

Soft fingers caress his lips, keep his body warm, his belly full and his back massaged.

“I’ll always have a home,” Leon finally manages to get out, a complete sentence, voice without hesitation.

He closes his eyes, kisses the skin of your shoulder.

Hell, he is trying.

When his mind seems to get too clouded by the visions of monsters, you pull him out of the depths of his trauma. He does his best to love you. He tries.

Or the fic in which you make Leon repeat comforting phrases so it finally gets in his head that he is loved.

Just a very soft idea that wouldn't leave my head and that's been too long in the wip folder. The warnings make it seem worse than it is, but happy ending I promise!!! Had re4r in mind for this one but can be read with other older versions of him. (Though the older the Leon, the angstier it gets lmao)

Content: No use of y/n, very very soft love, hurt/comfort, some angst, established relationship, living together, sitting on his lap, a tiny bit of possessive Leon (yay!)

Warnings: +18 ONLY. No smut but some suggestive lines. Mentions of blood, suicide, guns and overall (some brief) gore. Leon's mental struggles (depression, anxiety). I'm not a native English speaker but I (lazily) proofread and edited this one.

You lean forward, just a little closer to his body. Leon groans, his face unreadable still.

“Don’t want to,” he muses, kind of annoyed at your proposal.

“Just trust me.”

He reluctantly nods, as you get comfortable on his lap. His firm thighs under you, the warmest and comfiest seat you could ever ask for.

You worry about him, worry so much.

You know now: know what he does, what he works as. At first it was hard to believe it, the stories about human turned monsters, about creatures that linger between heaven and hell. But you had to believe him, you were forced to the first time Leon crumbled down in your arms, sobbing the entirety of the night, the immensity of his body reduced to shivering and tears.

“I love you,” you had told him that time. “I’m not letting you go. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You whisper the same things again now, your voice reverberating close to his ear. Leon eases the grip on your hips, replaces it with a soft touch. He tries to calm down, closes his eyes for a moment too long.

“You love me,” he seems to ask, as if trying to convince himself of it, as if trying to find himself worthy of such a feeling from someone like you.

“I do,” you confirm, cupping his cheeks.

He nods, though his heart is thumping in his chest still. Your hands move to his shoulders, then to his arms, caressing the skin with soft strokes.

“I love you… Look at me.”

He obliges, eyes like the ocean, marked by the heavy and dark eyebags.

It breaks your heart to see him like this. Your lip trembles as you lean closer, shortening the distance.

It is entirely possible —as you’re so much aware of— that one day you’ll come home to an unlocked gun and his body in the bathtub. Or maybe it would be the rifle, the carpet stained with blood and pieces of what used to be his jaw.

A jaw that you love so much, that you kiss now.

Leon sighs, seems content with such affection, his hands getting lost down your thighs.

“Listen to me. You’re gonna repeat as I say, okay?” an attempt to get him out of his head, to remind him of who he is.

“ …‘Kay,” he mumbles, seemingly distracted.

“I’m… good.”

He scrunches his nose, pinkish lips downturned. Naturally, he doesn’t dare to say those words. He doesn’t want to trick his brain.

“C’mon,” you egg him, patting his shoulder gently.

The action seems to at least make his lips curve slightly.

“I’m good,” he whispers, his voice insecure.

He tries. You can see how hard he does it: coming home as much possible, the dirty laundry now clean and with a soft cinnamon scent. A sunflower in the kitchen vase next to the window, the coffee mug always clean even when you leave it in the sink, ready to be washed in the morning.

“I’m a good partner,” you resume, reminiscing.

That does stops him in his tracks, a gentle blush rooting on his cheeks, the smile more pronounced now. Leon presses his face against your neck.

“… Do I really have to say it?”

“Yep.”

He breathes on your neck, as if trying to take in a bit of your kindness, a bit of your peace. He closes his eyes, tries to control his breathing. But his hands grip your hips harder.

He fucking loves you.

Leon is not sure he deserves this yet, the warm body on the bed, the pretty smile that kisses him goodbye, lets him go away even in the middle of the night.

“I love you,” he backtracks, pressing a kiss on your neck.

You chuckle, and allow him that admission.

“Very cute but that’s not what you had to repeat.”

Leon raises his eyebrows, feigning annoyance. He keeps his fingers on your hips, dancing on your skin, drawing patterns as he keeps you close. He wishes he could sign his name there, mark you forever so you’d never get too far away from him… So he’d always have a right to come back to you.

“But I love you…” he pouts.

You grab his face with utmost care, force his cheeks to look upwards at your face.

“I love you too. Lots.”

You kiss his forehead. His body melts under that touch.

“ ‘m a good partner” he mumbles, quickly.

“My baby loves me.”

Now Leon chuckles.

“My baby loves me,” he hides again on your neck, his smile etched constantly on his face now. You hug him closer, kiss his forehead once more, as if sheltering a lost angel in your arms.

“I’ll always have a home.”

Oh, that one seems to break him a little. Leon immediately whines, his hands gripping your body with ferocity against his. He can’t say… He shouldn’t. He… he can’t and…

His heart starts beating faster and he gulps.

“You can do it…” you encourage him and he wants to try. He knows, deep inside, that is true and that he is now safe. It takes him several minutes until his anxiety dissipates and he can look up at you, your eyes encapsulating warmth that he had never experienced with anyone else.

Soft fingers caress his lips, keep his body warm, his belly full and his back massaged.

“I’ll always have a home,” Leon finally manages to get out, a complete sentence, voice without hesitation.

He closes his eyes, kisses the skin of your shoulder.

Hell, he is trying. It is seen not only in how much he makes time for you, but also in the way he follows along with your little silly ideas, suggestions to try to build himself up again.

And though he wouldn’t directly admit it, since you two are together he has promised himself to fight his hardest in every mission. He spits his own blood, wipes off the exhaustion from his face and keeps pushing forward. Because, he’ll be damned, he wants to see you once more. And once more. And again and again… And when he comes home, to you, Leon immediately checks —for the tenth time— the safety on each gun and leaves them in locked boxes, his fingers slowly forgetting what it’s like to toy with weapons in the sanctuary that you’ve built for the two of you. The cold of the metal is now replaced by the warmth between your thighs, the flesh on your hips, the softness of your hands.

Hell, he is definitely trying.

And it’s fucking working.

God to be on his lap honestly!!! A dream. And if you've made it to the end, thank you!! Mwah, sweet soul 💙

[daisynik7]

“I’m going to crush No Nut November,” Ino announces proudly during dinner at your favorite Korean BBQ restaurant. It’s the first of the month and it’s also the first time you’re hearing about this. 

You raise a brow at him, smirking, flipping over the short ribs on the grill. “Since when do you practice No Nut November?”

“Starting today,” he answers confidently, placing a few pieces of rice paper on your plate. “We’ve been going at it too much. I get hard just thinking about you. It’s time to establish some willpower.”

Your smile widens, amused by this sudden proclamation. A piece of meat hangs at the end of your chopsticks when you say, “Okay. Well, as always, I’ll support you.”

Before you can bring it to your lips, Ino pokes his chopsticks at you, giving you a stern look. “Be serious about this babe! If you’re going to support me, that means you have to promise not to tempt me! No teasing!”

You fake a gasp. “Me?! I’m a good girl. I would never do such a thing!”

He shuts his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, sighing. “See, this is what I’m talking about! You can’t just say you’re a good girl and not expect me to think of things.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Okay fine, no teasing, no tempting, no nothing. I wish you good luck, Taku.”

And good luck is definitely what Ino needs. 

Even without you provoking him in any way, your boyfriend manages to find every mundane thing you do to be somewhat erotic. At breakfast the next day, he stares at you with his tongue out, watching you eat a banana, claiming that the way your lips wrap around it is way too familiar to something else you do expertly. At night, he ogles you in your leggings as you bend over to pick up your phone that dropped to the floor, complaining about how good your butt always looks, especially in a compromising position like this. While you sleep, you actively avoid cuddling as to not “tempt” him into something further, but even with you rolled all the way to the other side of the bed, you hear him mutter to himself, “Pickled onions. Grandma’s dirty underwear. Pickled eggs. C’mon, go down, go down.”

Three days into November, Takuma gives up. He ambushes you as you’re brushing your teeth in the bathroom, his hands firm at your hips, his clothed erection pressed between your ass cheeks tight against your pajama bottoms. His mouth is hot on your ear. “Okay. I give up, sweetie. I’m weak. I’m so fucking weak for you.”

You spit the remainder of your toothpaste out into the sink, rinsing your mouth with water, some of it dripping down your chin. You grin at him through the reflection, sticking your ass out to grind on his hard cock. He moans, shuddering from your touch, already too far gone to go back. “Good boy. I knew you’d finally come around.”

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Before-work Quickie - Lute (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Angel!Reader SMUT

Summary: Lute gives you oral and fingers you before she goes to work for the day.

Warnings/Contents: MDNI, smut, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, Dom!Lute

Notes: First time writing smut, go easy on me lmao

You woke up with a yawn, stretching, enjoying the feeling of the silk bedsheets against the feathers of your wings. It didn't take you more than a quick moment to notice the absence of your girlfriend next to you, and it also didn't take you long to find her, either.

From where you were lying on the bed, you got a glimpse of the inside of the en suite bathroom, where you could see Lute changing into her uniform. She hadn't finished yet, giving you a good look at her perfect breasts, a sight you weren't expecting to see so early in the morning, but certainly weren't upset with. The sight alone led to a growing arousal within you and between your thighs.

"You wake up, and the first thing you do is stare at me," Lute commented, tone more playful than harsh; a rarity coming from her. You smiled, a light blush on your cheeks. You had been caught staring. She slipped her uniform's top on, taking away what had got you caught in the first place. She then pulled her mask on, completing the look that crept the average denizen of Heaven out, but you had grown accustomed to seeing.

She approached the side of the bed, lifting her mask just enough to reveal her lips, before bending down to kiss you softly. You always got a kiss from her before she left for work. Which meant–fuck, she'd be leaving soon. You'd have to be quick. Swiftly, you pulled her down onto the bed with you, deepening the kiss; putting as much desire into it as possible, hoping she'd get the message, and she did.

She slipped her gloved hand under your nightgown and towards your pussy, feeling through her glove just how wet you were. She separated from the kiss, a smirk on her face as she begin to slowly massage your clit, causing you to let out a small moan.

"I can't believe how wet you are just from seeing my tits," She teased, slipping a finger into you and curling it, watching in satisfaction as you arched your back in reaction to the sudden motion.

"T-That's–fuck, Lute–what you do to me."

She slipped another finger in, then yet another, fucking them into you at a pace that was slow, yet growing in speed. You gripped the sheets, a plethora of sweet moans leaving you, the sound like a heavenly chorus to your girlfriend. Just as fast as she had started fucking you with her fingers, she stopped. You let out an unsatisfied whine at the sudden lack of feeling, a sound you'd surely be embarrassed by once you were done.

You almost started complaining until you saw her move down the bed and spread your legs open even further, bringing her head down to be in between your thighs and towards your wetness.

"What's the time?" She questioned, almost out of the blue, licking a stripe up your wet cunt. You gasped in pleasure, eyes snapping shut as she began to properly eat you out.

"Tell me the time or I'll stop." She demanded in a growl against you. You opened your eyes, glancing at the clock on the nightstand.

"E-Eight twenty-one—Lute! " You let out a cry of her name as her lips wrapped around your clit, sucking on it with fervor. She was speeding up, and you knew why. She had to be out the door by eight thirty if she wanted to get to work on time.

The longer she spent on your clit, the closer you got to your orgasm; its approach barreling towards you. Your hands found the horns of her mask, holding onto them as you attempted to ground yourself, trying to get every second you could out of this wonderful experience. But things couldn't last forever.

"L-Lute," You stuttered. "I'm gonna cum! God, your gonna make me cum so hard!"

"Then cum. You have my permission."

With her words, you orgasm overtook you. Just like you said you would, you came hard, soaking her mask and your thighs in your arousal. She continued to eat you out until you couldn't take it anymore, pushing her away by the horns.

She pulled away, sitting up as you tried to catch your breath. She let out a small, almost impressed, laugh as she took off her mask, looking at just how much you managed to drench it. "Look at what you did."

She pulled off her gloves before heading to the closet and pulling out a spare pair, along with a spare mask. She put both on before heading towards the door. "I'll be back later tonight."

And with that, she left. Leaving you on the bed, satisfied and ready to fall back asleep again.