#not worshipping me properly? half a star

[demonwebs]

lolth as a concept is so funny bc you cannot please her and you know you cannot please her and it still drives vhaal abs bonkers every time he rediscovers this fact during their monthly 'trance' meetings

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Rafayel: Firelight Dance | Drabble 18+

Aaaaaaand the last of the drabbles, which is ended with a bang. This man just wants to make tender love to his partner and I am here for it.

Pairing: Rafayel x Reader Warning: Sex, Slow Fucking, Feelings, Tender Moments, Creampie, Unsafe Sex, Praise Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

Typically, power outages were annoying, the bane of anyone’s existence. However, your beloved artist always did have a knack for making the best out of any situation. Which leads to now, as his cock is slowly pumping into you at a leisurely pace. 

His hand was entwined with your own, holding onto you and occasionally giving you a slight squeeze. His mouth led a trail of kisses down your neck as he praised you, worshiping the ground you walked on. The candles in the room flickered, casting a shadow on the wall that showed just how sensual this moment was.

You could feel his breath on you, the small intakes of breath as his hips continued thrusting. The only sound in the room was your moaning, alongside Rafayel’s panting. You felt hot all over; the slow pace he fucked you made sure you felt everything. Every slow drag of his cock in your walls was mind-blowing, and you felt like you were losing your mind.

Rafayel lifted his head to look at you, his eyes half-lidded and pupils blown wide. His bangs stuck to his damp forehead, and you could see the sweat that had formed on the rest of him now.” So perfect,” he murmured under his breath, giving a quick thrust into you that had your head falling back.

“R-Rafayel,” You had whined, and Rafayel didn’t seem to truly register it, though, too lost inside your heat. You let out another whimper, getting his attention as you wiggled your hips. He let out a low groan at your motions before finally paying attention to you.

“What is it, my pearl?” He panted out, leaning in and pressing a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“More…” Your voice was breathy as you looked up at him. He let out a moan at that, his hips getting a little bit faster but not nearly what you had wanted. You let out another mewl, and he chuckled this time.

He leaned in, capturing your lips with his as he kissed you. You could feel his tongue gliding against your lower lip, and you opened up for him. The taste of him was intoxicating as he seemed to steal your breath away. When you finally parted, he pressed his forehead against yours. His hand that was on your hips tightened as he squeezed his eyes shut as he focused on concentrating.

“Not yet, Riptide,” He whispered, “Wanna savor this, wanna feel you for a little longer,” he panted. Your head felt fuzzy, and you could feel the gradual build-up in your abdomen as you were getting closer and closer to your peak. “Just a little more,” he said.

You couldn’t help but arch your back up, pressing your chest against his own, and he gasped. He could feel the shift as you did so, and he let out a content hum. The new angle was now hitting that soft spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. You were so close right now; every glide of his cock inside of you made you want to cry out.

It was so loving the way he did this. It wasn’t often he properly made love to you, but damn, you felt your walls squeeze when he was getting close. His cock twitched inside of you, and his noises got louder. He began repeating, “I love you,” over and over again.

Every thrust punched the air out of your lungs as he picked the pace up ever so slightly. It still wasn’t as fast as he’d typically fuck you, but you didn’t care. Your legs were shaking, and you could feel your orgasm approaching.

Rafayel’s hand went between your bodies, playing with you, “Cum with me, please,” he groaned, “Wanna feel you milking my cock, please, my love, please, please, I love you,” he said right into your ear, pressing wet kisses right below it.

That was all it took. Your entire body was on fire as you clenched around him. You let out a loud, whimpering moan as your walls clenched so tightly around Rafayel that he had a hard time moving. Not that he needed to; you could feel his own seed coating inside of you, his thrusts a shallow grind as he worked himself through his orgasm.

He continued pumping his release into you until he was done, stilling inside of you. He collapsed onto his arms, pressing you into the mattress. His eyes still hazy as he looked at you with a fucked out expression.

You run your hands through his soft hair as he leans closer to you, nuzzling his face in your neck. Words didn’t need to be spoken, not at a time like this. Not when you were in his arms, content and not going anywhere. Not when you were in his bed, staying the night and waking up with him. Words didn’t need to be spoken in intimate moments with Rafayel; his actions were always enough.

Alright, guess it's time to start working on all the Sylus content now, huh?

[calamiitywrites]

— qimir x reader

trigger warning: graphic scenes and descriptions of violence, blood and death. please proceed with caution.

request via ask: "I actually would like to request a one shot or maybe even a story where the reader ( or an oc doesn't matter ) is hunting Jedi for her own reasons and is on her way to becoming a sith, but she's terrified of her force because it's not only powerful, but full of rage so needless to say it stems from the dark side. I don't want her to replace Osha or Mae, in fact I want them included in the story. however, I do want Qimir to end up teaching this character. Add some seduction of course, some mystery and I want it from the character's pov. I know this idea is all over the place and I'm not giving you much to work with but I would definitely like to see him interact with this character who could learn a lot from him but has the potential to be a stand alone character herself."

note from author: I think I understand the gist of what you're requesting so I will definitely interpret it in my own way. Please let me know if this is what you had in mind :) also, sorry it's so long, I had to introduce the character first haha!- calamiity

There's a distant hum that tickles at her brainstem and finds itself traveling down to the pit of her stomach. she should be weary of this sensation because it was nothing more than the force riddling through her body. decorating her veins in a fire that could coat the 7 levels of hell in different degrees of flame. What kind of beast had she become to worship a power that made her feel this way? The moonlight, a silvered blade slicing through the night did nothing to hide her or shield the outside world from seeing what she truly was, a beast in human form. it whispered to the stars about her, but the sky was her only companion. Without judgement, It listened to her battle cries and the pleas of the Jedi that she cut down mercilessly. Crimson clung to her robes and dripped slowly down the exposed pieces of her face outlined by the fabric that covered her nose and lips. the deep red of it was in complete contrast to the darkness reflected in her irises. She had allowed the force to nearly consume her from the inside out and the eerie abundance of obsidian that nearly took over her entire vision told her that she had gone too far tonight. Her power — a forbidden curse with a seductive allure. The force must be exercised and properly managed, but the emotions beneath the surface of her consciousness were far too powerful for tradition. Wrath, Loss, Pain and Vengeance. They all danced the danse macabre within her soul, drenching it in affliction. there was no turning back now. Her veins were like molten lava, but they were chilled by the sound of the whimpering jedi that lay at her feet. Before she could stop herself, her eyes wandered to the delicate skin under his chin and she could feel the power of the force expand and contract around his throat. It took half of a second for her to realize that he was choking. a gentle tilt of her head was the only give away to her true curiosity. could she really end his life this way? how long would it take? A thread, a piercing silver stream of light slid through the forefront of her mind and she followed it. It broke off to her left and her eyes caught movement behind the shop window that sat uncloaked. It occurred to her that the 4 jedi she had murdered in front of the shop window was witnessed by someone. rather or not she was wearing a mask didn't matter, the idea of being seen in her most volatile state nearly made her shutter. however, there was no turning back now. With the distraction of the hidden bystander, the once choking jedi had gotten up and began sneaking away. She couldn't let that happen. Refocusing, she retrieved his lightsaber and ignited it with deliberate slowness. Aligning her gaze with his position, she extended her left arm to match his height, letting the dark blue blade hover above her other hand. Once she was certain of her aim, she harnessed the Force and propelled his saber like an arrow. It flew straight and true, embedding itself in the center of his back and causing him to collapse lifelessly where he stood. She turned back to the glass in search of the movement that she had seen before, but there was nothing. although she was sure that the person was still there, there was no reason to pursue them. instead, she flexed her force once more to create a smoke screen and vanish into the night where she had come. The night’s embrace was both her refuge and her torment, and as the echoes of her power faded into the void, she was left with the haunting realization that the greatest battle she would ever face was not against her foes, but against the seduction of her own darkness.

Her ragged gasps were the only thing that filled her ears as she removed the bloodstained robes that clung to her skin. A bath would do her some good, but it wasn’t until she was completely bare that she noticed the weight missing from her belt—the sai dagger made from cortosis was gone. Panic surged through her as she realized she must have dropped it during the chaos. however, she couldn't go back to that shop now. the bystander from before had already seen her cloaked figure, if she chanced it now then he would most likely get a glimpse of her. her best bet would be to return in the morning disguised as a merchant.

At first light she followed through with her plan to return to the shop where she had committed the atrocities from the night prior. it was strange to see that the fallen jedi had been removed, the ground cleaned and the sound of murmuring voices questioning if the chaos they heard about last night was even real. "I heard it was a rumor." said one store vendor. "No way, there have been many Jedi killings over the past few days. You heard about that cloaked figure that went after Indara a few nights back?" another spoke.

She paused for a brief moment at the name, she had never killed a jedi named Indara....perhaps there was another seeking out revenge? either way, it made her job easier. one less monkey for the zoo.

"I heard it was a drunk bar fight that went wrong and that they turned on each other." she chimed in. if everyone was going to put out some gossip, she might as well add her tidbit to throw them off a bit.

"There have been a lot of them spotted at the pub lately." the older woman agreed.

She hid the half hearted smile that graced her lips when she turned away from them, but her heart sank as she locked eyes with her missing dagger prominently displayed, as if it were for sale, in the window of the shop from last night. The idea of it being displayed as a trinket for someone to snag it nearly made her mouth run dry. She knew she had to retrieve it before the blade—or its significance—fell into the wrong hands. but how?

[hazbininlove]

Hopelessly Devoted

Lucifer x OC

Summary: When the Divine created his angels, it was no secret that Lucifer, his Morning Star, was one of his favorites. It also was no secret that Lucifer was lonely. And so he crafted another, a half, crafted in the light of that same star. This was Esther, the Evening Star. They were two halves of a whole, balancing and completing each other perfectly. They were a pair always seen together.

Until they weren’t.

Prologue

Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light: Angels that worshiped good, and shielded all from evil.

Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation, but he was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven. For they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So he watched as the angels began to expand the universe in their ways.

What most versions of the Story of Hell fail to mention was another angel, created together with Lucifer. She was Esther. Where Lucifer brought light upon the angels, she signaled the dark. Together, they balanced each other. They were created for each other! Esther loved to listen to his ideas, even encouraged them, but also grounded them and helped tame the more nonsensical. When they were together, he seemed like less of a troublemaker, and she seemed brighter and more approachable.

From the dust of Earth, angels created Adam and Lilith: equals as the first of mankind. They were crafted in the idea of Lucifer and Esther, wanting mankind to begin with a couple properly balanced. Where they failed was in not knowing that personalities could not be easily recreated. Adam demanded control and Lilith refused to submit to his will. She fled the garden.

Drawn in by her fierce independence, much like his other half’s, Lucifer found her.

Here again, the true story of Hell differs, changed over time by Hell’s denizens who only knew what they saw. Lucifer and Lilith found a friendship forged from rebellion and dreams. They talked about their hopes for this new world, and together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering the fruit of knowledge to Adam’s new bride, Eve, who gladly accepted.

But this gift came with a curse, for with this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin, and the order Heaven had worked to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his friend into the dark pit he had created, never allowing him to see the good that came from humanity, only the cruel and the wicked.

Ashamed, Lucifer lost his will to dream, but Lilith thrived, empowering demonkind with her voice and her songs. And left alone back in Heaven without her light-bearer was Esther…

And as the numbers of hell grew, so did its power. Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision; that every year, they would send down an army and extermination to ensure hell and its sinners could never rise against them.

But Lilith’s hope remained, and her dream was passed down to her’s and Lucifer’s precious daughter, the Princess of Hell.

“Charlie?”

”Oh, shit! Did you hear all that?” Charlie asks awkwardly, looking back to see her girlfriend Vaggie.

”Uh, yeah, I was right there.”

“Sorry, I get pretty worked up after an extermination happens. This story helps.”

”I know. Don’t worry, I enjoy your theatrics. Are you okay?” Vaggie asks, a soft reassuring smile on her lips as she moves to sit across from her girlfriend.

”I’m fine, just thinking about, you know, family stuff… Did you know my parents never really married? Mom never really found anyone she truly loved and Dad well… he lost his. They were friends! Still are, I think. They had me hoping maybe love would spark between them but it just never clicked, I guess. But I mean, love doesn’t always have to be romantic! And-“

“Charlie,” Vaggie starts, cutting off her rambling. “I get it. You don’t have to justify anything to me.”

“I know, I just…” Charlie sighs, leaning her shoulder against Vaggie’s. “I love my parents, and I know they love me! And I know they loved each other in their own way! I don’t know, part of me wishes that they’d loved each other a little more, or married someone they truly loved! Except now Mom’s been gone for seven years and if Dad hasn’t been able to move on from someone who he was with before the Earth and Hell were even created, I don’t think he’ll ever be able to! I mean, he gave up on his dreams but not on her?! Talk about devotion!”

“It’s kind of nice though, isn’t it? Or bittersweet, I guess, to know that you can love someone so unconditionally, even after centuries apart?” Vaggie asks, trying to lift the mood.

Charlie looks up at her from her spot on her shoulder and smiles back, feeling a warmth fill her chest as she looks into her love’s eyes.

”Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

——————————————————-

Just the prologue!! I promise this won’t just be a rewrite. I just wanted to use the story Charlie tells in the beginning to highlight the background of this plot.

This is NOT a cheating plot. I am not a fan of those, nor of making Lilith or Lucifer the bad guy in this situation (ironic, I know considering they’re the king and queen of Hell). Also I do what to eventually write a story about Lilith and Lucifer with a third but that’s not this story.

Lilith and Lucifer’s relationship in this story is strictly platonic. They love each other, but as friends, and they both acknowledge that. Idk but after watching the show, I know it’s implied that Lilith left 7 years ago but it feels like their relationship was already on the decline even in Charlie’s childhood and it felt like having her was almost like a way to try and salvage their relationship, which ultimately failed.

Anyway this idea came from that, and the fact that the Morningstar refers to the planet Venus, which is ALSO called the Eveningstar. And the same way Lucifer is means “the shining one” or another name for the morning star, Esther also means “Star”.

And well, as a libra ruled by the planet Venus, representing love and balance, this felt very fitting.

[jackietaylorsversion]

Soulmates.

I was in a discord server earlier, and we got to talking about the Yellowjackets as soulmates, and I thought I'd share those thoughts here, just a nice little put together catalogue of all those thoughts put together. I might add to this, too, as more pairings and relationships come to me.

For the record, I want to point out that I think that all of these characters are soulmates, far beyond ship dynamics, far beyond romance. What makes up the insides of one makes up the insides of the others because they are all the same: teenage girls trapped in either growing or decaying bodies. Their souls are all mated to the others in some way or another.

Tai and Van are a pair. Two separate souls that are a part of a matched set, like socks. They can be worn mismatched, certainly, but they really are at their best together. Tai gives Van a purpose. Van calms Tai's "demons." They can exist without each other, live without each other, love without each other, but they just are at their best together.

Lottie and Nat are that sort of star-crossed soulmates, doomed soulmates. There's a red string of fate but its severed somewhere in the middle. They can be good for each other, laugh and smile and hold each other close. They can be the worst of each other, holding knives to each other's throats, laughing in the face of it. They're the epitome of a missed chance. What kind of missed chance? That's up for you to decide.

Misty and Nat are the kind of soulmates that don't seem like they'd match, but they work so good together. The believer and the skeptic (though who is who changes with the circumstance, the belief, the skepticism). Orange and blue. Salt and sweet. Chaotic good and lawful evil. They're diametrically opposed but in a way that makes sense, in a way that works together. They each feed off of what makes the other their opposite. One is running, the other is chasing. Of course one would die at the hand of the other.

Lottie and Laura Lee are the kind of soulmates where each thinks they are the worshipper while the other is the god. A prophet, a believer, a worship under the sun. Souls that just burn brighter around each other (and that pun was unintentional the first time but very intentional with the emphasis). Both want to help the other. Both want to hold the other. They are belief without boundaries personified. Each is Icarus. Each is the sun.

Tai and Shauna are soulmates in a way that recognizes "That is my person." Two people that have so much in common, who understand each other, who both recognize the want in the other. They have an understanding and a care for each other that's fierce. I see you, you see me, ad it might not be pretty, but we will be honest with each other. Especially as the two of them have aged; time has not erased their understanding of one another.

Jackie and Nat are soulmates in a way that isn't explored a lot in the show but has been discussed, from what I've seen, really well. Foils. Two sides of the same coin. Opposites. Rich girl, poor girl. Prude, slut. There are certain stereotypes around both of them that, from a glance, seem to play out. One only needs to look deeper to really see it. Unfortunately, from the show, we never really see the two of them see past their expectations of each other.

Jackie and Shauna. Two heads, one heart. I don't know where you end and I begin and all that. We've been there, we've done that. We know it by heart. They're not a pair because a pair implies separation, and there is none. You can cut out your heart, and you can even replace it, but it's never the same. They're two shattered halves of the same fucked up whole. When one piece is gone, the hole cannot be filled properly ever again. There are some species of worms that, when worm cut in half, can keep living as two separate entities. That does not negate the fact that it was once one whole creature. They're unhealthy together. They're unnatural apart. One did not live long enough to remedy either of these facts.

(If Jackie's heart was still beating, I know it would beat in time with Shauna's. I hope Shauna ate it to feel it beat with hers one last time.)

[ghuleh-recs]

Cardinal Copia had his own Fic Rec Friday and now it’s Popia’s turn. I've compiled a healthy mix of x reader and x ghoul below. A little something for everyone! I may have gotten a little carried away— there's a lot to see here so make good use of your ao3 bookmarks!

Take my hand. Let’s read about the HBIC together. ♡

recs under the cut.

Papa x Reader

Don't Go - @ramblingoak - papa iv x gn!reader

While trying to convince Papa to cancel the tour you end up confessing how you feel about him.

Rough Day - @writingjourney - papa iv x f!reader

papa takes care of you after a rough day.

Your Star Wrapped in My Cloak - @sherwood-forests - papa iv x f!reader

You find Copia in the library, in hopes of apologizing.

VIII Strength - @anamelessfool - gn!reader

VIII STRENGTH Strength (Physical and Will), courage, persuasion, influence, compassion Copia is a pent up sort of man, he always has been. He enjoys being Papa but on his worst days the title has a near physical weight pressed across his shoulders. He comes home to you, and you can tell when it's been one of those days. Luckily, he has you to guide him.

Forbidden Fruit - @ink-and-dagger - papa iv x f!reader

It's a pleasant surprise to stumble upon the newly ordained Papa Emeritus IV browsing through the library stacks. Even more pleasant that he happens to be halfway up a rolling ladder, and wearing one of his sinfully tight suits. What better opportunity to give Copia's cakes the attention they deserve. Or No snakes needed to convince you to take a bite out of this apple.

Forever Yours - @sweatandwoe - papa iv x gn!reader

Ever since you had entered into a relationship with him, you had learned three strict rules about Copia. One, he did not like to be tickled in any situation. Two, he always had to have a drink after sex. Three, the make-up stayed on. The first two were easy to follow but the third though, was getting harder to try not to bend.

Worship - @copiasjuicebox - papa iv x transmasc!reader

Tumblr Request: trans!copia worshipping your body after your t shots have had time to work. he understands how to worship your body properly bc he’s been through the transition, he gets it.

on leather wings - @ghostchems - papa iv x f!reader

copia surprises you with a spooky weekend getaway, culminating in some winged bedroom time

Papa IV x Ghouls

tumblr ficlet - @st-danger - papa iv x dewdrop

"Papa," Dew murmurs, and Copia feels a tremor move through him; there's a particular voice Dewdrop uses when he wants something. Silky and dark and slow. A drawl. It's what he's using now, and he hasn't the ability to deny him anything. And if Dewdrop is about to angle for a little action, backstage and hurried with Copia in his papal robes- well. It'd be sinful, of course. And it would be wrong to not take advantage of that, right?

What's My Name? - @copiasjuicebox - papa iv x swiss

"Why don't you ask me how I'm doing?" in which, the audience doesn't refer to Papa as "Papa" and it strikes a chord.

And You Know That It Takes Two - @forlorn-crows - papa iv x dewdrop

“Well, I do. Of course I do,” he assures the ghoul. “Quite fond of you all, actually. It was, admittedly, a little rocky when we first met. But.” There’s that heh Dew was expecting just moments before. “Here we are, no?” When Copia starts rubbing his thumb up and down the inside of his knee, Dew’s brain stops working. His gaze zeros in to the fingers splayed across the side of his thigh, so foreign, so bare, so pink against the black of his casual uniform pants. His mind is full of static and all he can hear is his own blood pumping through his head. But there’s a weird something tugging in his ribcage; something new yet old, unnamed but familiar.

tumblr ficlet - @littlemoon-beam - papa iv x dewdrop

He can't look away from his hands, the way the veins flex under his skin as he expertly plays. Copia hears his own shuddering breath, wishing he could feel them on his skin even if only for a moment. He'd worship every fingertip if given half the chance. What really gets him though, what makes his chest tight and his stomach twist, is when he finishes and smiles, head tilted and eyes bright. "Was that ok, Papa?"

Changing of the Seasons - @kissingghouls - papa iv x cirrus

Cirrus and Copia share an umbrella on a rainy day.

𖤐 you know the drill--bookmark, read, and leave kudos/comments!

Did I forget your favorite? You've got a standing invitation from me to add your own rec and reblog ♡

[pagesfromthevoid]

Cowboy Like Me | d.d. | Epilogue

Din Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Smuuuut. Oral (m receiving). Fingering. Body worship. PinV sex. Creampie. Mild cockwarming if you squint. Tiny bit of sub!Din but you realllllly gotta squint.

Author’s Note: Everyone thank @ablondieproduction for this. Also, ya know how I said the last part was the finale? I lied turns out. Gif from @obikenobis

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

The Wedding Night

“Well, well, well —you leave with a kid and come back with, what? A princess?” Peli greeted as Din held his hand out to his wife, helping her off the ship. Grogu was in his other arm. 

She still wore her gown, stained with her blood as well as Credence’s, and it trailed behind her as she walked off the ship. Peli stood with her hands on her hips, staring at the three before her in confusion and disbelief. 

“Peli,” he returned with a nod. Immediately, the mechanic reached out to take Grogu in her arms, and the child coped excitedly at her. “This is my wife.”

“Excuse me?” Peli exclaimed, and even her droids stopped what they were doing to see what was going on. “You got married and didn’t invite me?”

She laughed —bright, genuine and the only thing that Din wanted to hear for the rest of his life. “It was a bit last second,” she offered simply, extending her hand to the mechanic to introduce herself. “I’ve heard your mechanic skills are the best in the galaxy.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what he told ya.”

Din let out a sigh –vaguely resembling a chuckle – nodding back to the Crest. “Think you can fix it in the next week?”

Peli moved around the ship, examining it closely. “What the hell did you do to do this thing?”

“Got married,” he offered as a simple explanation. Next to him, she elbowed his side with a playful grin. 

Peli stopped and looked back at him, brow raised. “Mando, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were messin’ with me.”

“But you do know better, Ms. Peli?” She asked, grinning still. 

The mechanic scoffed, making a face. “Just Peli. And I do. Which means that you two actually got married on this thing —what? During a firefight? How romantic.” 

Both laughed at the last comment’s clear sarcasm, earning a giggle from Grogu who basked in the joy that came from both his parents. Peli seemed struck by the sight, and Din wondered if he’d ever actually laughed in front of her before. He couldn’t remember the last time he properly felt this happy, however. 

“Y’know what? Lemme watch the kid for the night,” Peli offered, bouncing Grogu on her hip. Din knew she would offer that regardless, because she always did. However, her next offer threw him off. “You two go get yourself a room and really enjoy your wedding night.”

Din thanked the Maker for his helmet, because the blush that he felt took up his neck and face and seeped over his features. But his princess didn’t hesitate to take his hand, her grin turning to an eager smile. 

“And as a wedding gift —I’ll charge ya half what the repairs are.”

Din rolled his eyes, but she was pulling him towards the exit of the shop without a second thought. “Thank you, Peli! You are wonderful.”

He swore, as he was hurried out the door, Peli said to Grogu, “Maybe you’ll get a sibling tonight.”

*****

There was no hesitation as soon as they got into their room at the inn. Her hands were on him, revealing his face to her. Anyone else would have called her desperate for how she touched him –how she needed to taste him on her lips and see every part of him like it was the first time, every time. The dark curls that fell over his eyes, which could hold every star in the galaxy if she could capture them all. Everything about Din Djarin was beautiful, and she thanked the Maker for every second she got to touch him.

His helmet was discarded to the nightstand without much thought, and her mouth was on his as soon as it was out of the way. Din responded with fervor, yanking his gloves off and tossing them aside so his hands could card into the hair at the base of her neck and pull her into him. His lips were chapped, but soft and pliant against her’s, allowing her to be in as much control as possible. She liked how he melted into her touch; how he let her decide how far it could be taken. The feeling made her shiver in excitement, and she felt a rush of desire wash over her. Her tongue traced his bottom lip, before she pulled it between her teeth. Din is who deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth and exploring the depths of her. 

When they broke apart, foreheads resting against one another, she closed her eyes for a moment to breathe. Din’s hands were still in her hair, though loosened now, as he peppered short, sweet kisses over her cheeks, nose, eyes –wherever his lips could touch. 

“I need out of this awful gown,” she breathed, opening her eyes to look up at him.

“I happened to like the dress,” he admitted, just as breathless. His fingers traced over the scales of the armor that covered her body, trailing down as he lifted the skirts, showing off the remnants of battle. “Bloodstains and all.”

“You would,” she teased, reaching up to run her fingers across his jaw with a soft smile. 

While it would not be the first time that she and Din touched one another, it would be the first time she could see him when they did. And she wanted to see everything. The blindfold heightened every other feeling, but to see him –every part of him –was something that she had been longing for the moment they landed on Sorgan so long ago. 

The stubble along his jaw scratched her fingers, but she basked in the feeling as she mimicked his motions. Her eyes traced over the armor covering his chest, over the mudhorn signet that matched her dagger, as well as the mythosaur that was etched into his pauldrons. She had felt him under her hands before; the skin under the armor. The scars that littered his body from battle and blaster shots. There was something about feeling him that dialed her desire up higher and higher, but being able to see him…Maker help her, she was growing impatient.  

She wasn’t a fool; she knew by marrying him that they would not have a peaceful life. Such was the way of the Mandalorian. But what moments of peace they had –moments like this, in that inn, alone –she was going to savor and enjoy. 

“I want to see you,” she finally whispered, looking up at him. “I want to see all of you, Din.”

She watched his throat constrict as he swallowed; how his breath hitched when she said his name. Her hands traced back up to his shoulders, slowly but surely beginning to remove the armor that hid him from her. Din stood, allowing her to take her time –to appreciate everything that he had to offer her. As she moved her way down, taking pieces of his beskar with her, she admired each part of him she could. With the beskar out of the way, she pulled the pieces of his flight suit next, all but tossing the top pieces off onto the floor to reveal the broad expanse of skin she had only ever touched blindly. While he still wore the bottom half of his suit, she was content –if only for a moment –to admire what she saw before her.

Her fingers traced over his collarbone, down into the dip that formed right at the base of his throat, then back up over the otherside. There were scars all over –ones she had felt before but could finally see properly. New ones –still fresh, still trying to be held together –and old ones alike marred his skin, but as she touched each one, she couldn’t help but find each one beautiful in its own right. 

Din’s hands reached for her waist, but she shooed him away with an adoring smile. “You’ve been able to see me this entire time,” she reminded him gently, slowly bringing herself to her knees in front of him. Her hands unfastened the buckles of his boots, slipping them off him with ease, before her hands reached back up to his stomach. He swallowed again, meeting her gaze as her nails dragged down his stomach and stopped just above the button of his pants. “Let me see you come undone for me.”

Her lips pressed against his lower stomach, her tongue just barely grazing over the skin there, as her hands worked the remainder of his flight suit off of him. His hands were trembling by his sides, and when she looked up at him, his eyes were closed as if he was trying to hold himself back. A devious smile spread over her lips, and Din hummed as he felt it against his skin. As she pulled the remainder of his clothes off of him, she pressed soft, wet kisses lower and lower until she was sitting on her knees with him bare before her. 

“Look at me,” she ordered, though her voice was soft as her nails dragged over the exposed skin of his thighs. 

Din finally opened his eyes, dropping his gaze to her as she carefully took his hardened length in her hands. He sucked in a sharp breath, trying to keep himself composed, but she didn’t want him composed. She wanted him undone from her touch, her mouth, her love. 

She’d felt him before —his size, buried deep inside her —but she wanted to feel him everywhere. And so with a careful stroke of her hand, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the tip of his cock. He let out a strangled sound, legs shaking. She hummed softly, glancing up at him once more, before she pulled back just slightly. 

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” she commanded, pushing him backwards. 

He didn’t hesitate to follow orders, sitting down and spreading his legs open for her. She settled between his knees, leaning her head against his thigh to simply admire the beauty that was her husband —staring down at her with pleading eyes. 

“Look at you, mesh’la,” she murmured, earning a groan from Din as she used his language against him.

“Please,” he managed to finally say, and she couldn’t deny him her touch any more. 

Sitting up on her knees, she took him in her hands once more and dragged her tongue over the underside of his cock. He threw his head back at the sensation, nails digging into the sheets of the bed, as she licked the head and budding precum clean off. Then, without warning, she wrapped her lips around him and took him entirely into her mouth, allowing herself only a moment to adjust to the feel of him on her tongue. 

His hips bucked involuntarily, but her free hand —the one not working his cock as she began to suck him off —dig into the meat of his thigh. A silent warning to wait so she could take her time. His breathing was heavy, but his eyes stayed on hers as she set the pace. Her tongue traced over the veins of his cock, back over the head, and she hummed in delight as one of his hands found purchase in her hair. 

Still in her bloodstained gown, on her knees in front of him, she slowed her motions —allowing Din to use his grip on her hair to control her next movements. There was a moment of hesitation —as if he was waiting for explicit permission. So she pulled back with a satisfying pop, a string of saliva shining between her lips and his cock. 

“Fuck,” was all he said, staring down at her with his hand tangled in her hair. “I-I need you, riduur. I won’t —I can’t last —,”

But she simply hummed in response, pulling back entirely to rest her hands in her lap. She looked up at him as he sat up fully, waiting for him to make his move. Din leaned forward, his hand in her hair guiding her up to meet him in a heated kiss. It was all teeth, and tongues, tasting himself on her as he started to pry the gown from her body. 

Unlike his beskar, her armor was only held on by a handful of buckles that trailed up her spine. Once undone —the dress simply dropped to her feet, pooled there like a sea of chainmail, blood and tulle. The underwear she wore —that, and nothing else —were the next to be pried off of her and when it was out of the way, Din’s hands were on her hips and pushing her into the sheets of the bed —all without breaking their kiss. 

Her hands tangled into his hair, bringing him as close to her as she could manage as his hands roamed over every curve of her body. He laid on his side, half on top of her, and he pulled her knee up against him. His fingers, thick and warm and quick, delved between her thighs and he groaned when he felt how wet she was. 

They broke apart, just enough to touch their foreheads together, as Din pressed a finger into her. She arched into the touch, his free hand gripping the calf that was pulled against him as he pulled out and pressed back in at a slow, almost painful pace. A second finger joined the first, and she gasped at the feeling of him inside her —she desperately needed more; needed him. 

“Please, Din,” she begged, taking his jaw in her hands to make him look at her. Seeing him —seeing him see her —made her heart swell as she gasped from his fingers curling inside her, against a string of nerves that made her cry out. “Oh Maker —Din —I —,”

His pace didn’t slow, however —he sped up his ministrations, trailing his lips over her jaw and down her throat. She writhed under his touch, each bite and kiss like fire under her skin, as she clenched around his fingers. Her hands pulled at his hair, tugging the curls between her fingers as she cried out his name as if he was her Maker and his name was the only prayer she needed for salvation. 

But too soon, he pulled his fingers from her and she fell into the bed with an empty, cold feeling where he once was. Din brought his fingers up, tapping just barely against her lips and she didn’t hesitate to take them into her mouth. Tasting herself on his fingers only fueled the fire that was blazing through her, and when he pulled his fingers from her mouth, she hauled him back into a kiss. 

He was hard against her thigh, and she was desperate to feel him fill her again. Snaking her hand between their bodies, her fingers wrapped around his cock once more. His moan was swallowed into their kiss as his hips bucked into her touch. With each buck of hips, she could feel his head just barely brushing against her core. 

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips, wrapping her leg around his back to pull him closer. “I love you, Din.”

Understanding what she wanted, he shifted just enough to press into her slowly. “I love you too, cyar'ika. More than you could ever know.”

She kept her eyes on him as Din slowly but surely bottomed out in her, filling her with all of him. He dropped his head, burying his face in the crook of her neck as their bodies connected and filled with warmth. While she wanted him to move, and bring her over the edge that she was already teetering off of, she also wanted to see his face with his cock buried inside her. 

“Look at me,” she begged, pulling his face away from her neck. 

He took a breath, opening his eyes slowly to look down at her. Her hands found his jaw again, holding him there as she pressed her heel into his back, trying to bring him even further into her. He rested on his elbows above her, slowly pulling out of her before thrusting back in. 

She gasped, throwing her head back as he set the pace —slow at first, but picking up speed as he pounded into her. Her fingers dug into his jaw, keeping his eyes on her as she opened her mouth in a silent cry.

He pushed himself up, drawing her in by her hips, as he thrusted into her —hard but passionate, meeting her eyes as he pressed his hand against her lower belly. She gasped at the sensation, arching off the bed when his fingers brushed against her clit. She cried out his name, chasing his touch, pleading with him harder, please, oh Maker!

Din was clearly eager to please, drawing his hips back and pulling out almost entirely —only to snap them back again and fill her. There was no helping herself as she closed her eyes, grasping at the sheets as he kept it up. His fingers circled her clit, pressing down and following the grind of her hips as she begged and pleaded with him. 

His other hand gently wrapped around her throat, fingers just under her jaw to guide her gaze back to him as his thrusts became erratic. Her hands wrapped around his wrist, meeting his gaze as the buildings coil inside her finally snapped and she screamed out his name. 

But his movements didn’t stop; spurred on by the clenching of her cunt around his cock, his movements only got harder and faster as he fucked her through her climax. Even as she came down from the moment, eyes full of stars and tears, he didn’t slow until with one more —two more thrusts —and he was spilling over into her. She could feel his cock twitching inside her, feel the warmth of him spreading throughout and dripping out of her. But she didn’t care, falling back into the bed as he dropped to his elbows above her once more. 

They stayed like that for a long while, with him buried deep inside her and their foreheads touching. The room was thick with sex and pleasure, and eventually, Din slid his softening cock out of her. She whined at the loss, but he buried his face in her neck once more, wrapping his arms around her to hold her close to him. 

She let out a sigh, running her hands through his hair. Din rolled over onto his back, pulling her with him to lay on top. He reached up, pushing the hair from her eyes, and she rested her hands on his chest, smiling down at him. 

“Gar cuyir bid mesh'la,” he whispered, touch lingering on her cheek. 

“Mm, can I guess?” He nodded, returning her smile with one of his own. “I think you just called me beautiful.”

“I did —because you are.”

“So are you, Din.”

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @r4iner @sgt-morgan @mingeniee @darling1darling @teriolan-blog @venusfalling @double—take @sunshine96 @lovelessprick @mxtokko @ellepascal @waddafaknik @c-ms1ut @kokoirne @sl-ut @munsons-queen @intense-sneezing @geekrenaissance @dilf-din @tizylish @ruleroftides @aheadfullofsteverogers

[lanternlightss]

Old Mondstadt and ISAT crossover and/or swap au because I’m brainrotting so hard about them

-I have already said enough about decarabian and the king however in a swap au it would be so funny if deca not having a design is canon because. Deca being ecstatic that he not only has a physical humanoid form but a really powerful and intimidating one, meanwhile the king lamenting about how he got turned into the missing texture image. Two dimensional square.

-NB and siffrin!!! They would absolutely be best friends!! Siffrin would teach nb the best ways to use a dagger properly while nb would teach him how to play the lyre. Nb letting siffrin borrow his cecilia pin while sif lets nb try on their hat. Inseperable. Also sif and nb being confused about eachother’s age (both think the other is in their early teens, when sif is in his mid-late 20s meanwhile nb being in his mid-late teens. <- the two being made fun of by their respective parties for being short)

-Dormont worships the god of change, what if old mond worshipped the god of time? Especially since they contrast with eachother- dormont’s citizens being quite literally frozen in time, while life in old mond is stagnant over the years. Wind wisps look like tiny change gods. Dancing wind wisps. Do you see my vision. (Instead of the actual god of time being a wind wisps, wind wisps are more seen as representatives)

I have more to say, but this might be too much to fit into one ask so I’ll split it into multiple <- too many thoughts

SHDHDHDHDHDJD THE KING JUST ONE DAY POPPING OUT OF EXISTENCE TO TURN INTO A STARRY NIGHT, A CASTLE ON THE HORIZON,,, a crown even ,,, and you can hear him complaining miles away IS so super funny oh my god, giggling. ohhhhh…. bright one ….. They turned me into a png 😔 …

but also REAL that would be such an apprehensive fight,,, decarabian feels like smthn otherworldly sometimes, we don’t know his origins so far, so to have him that Tall ?? to have him looming over everyone …. Wuh . Wuh Oh . like everyone needs all the luck and skill they can get because that seems like a . soulsgame boss fight where you just spotted a stumbling 25 foot horror and they’re running for You, the sky blooming into darkness, the cut string of a chord going taut accompanying it. but also him …. being more visually of the “eye of a storm now” too …

also god yeah the age confusion 😭😭 that would be such a treat and a half to get to witness in full. nameless bard thinking he has it down on lock and then one day siffrin is like oh . yeah . im almost thirty ? and loses his entire mind over it. how LONG ???? WHEN . (AND UEAH YEAH YEAH . yeah . i think it’s especially funny because even nameless bard, resident old mond shortie, is still taller than siffrin is. mostly because it seems venti himself is somewhere between 5’4”-5’5”, nb being maybe a smidge ?? taller ?? like rip siffrin and your 5’1”ness your shorty buddy can also join in on the teasing 😔 …. however he is a ride or die so !!!!) (<- but like. oh my godd. both of them making plans to add their heights together because dammit they want this object and they’re not gonna let it get past them bc it was too high) (<- immediately becomes a deer in headlights when one of their crew spots them. it was for the greater good.)

AND NAMELESS BARD BEING TAUGHT THE WAYS OF A DAGGER !!! CHEERS !!!!! he would be listening So Intently, he may make a few. injury ouchies, but mark his words he will Learn this. siffrin learning memory of menace because this will have 100000% good consequences dw about the name nb is going to be so normal abt this. don’t even worry. good friend siffrin is it possible to juggle knives. but also 🥺🥺 ohhh them sitting down to make music …. the possibility of siffrin remembering an old tune from his childhood, maybe some kind of lullaby ……. nb trying to perfect it so the memory never truly gets to fade….. Ough …. ohhh …. trying to look to the stars, and see if he could match the twinkling of them…

also wind wisps being the representatives sound SO SUPER INTERESTING i am looking i am looking so hard. you see these little guys, simply appearing as though out of thin air, simply going with the breeze, and you know something is about to go very very very wrong ….. good omens, bad omens, perhaps …. depending on what they do ? but anyways — YES HELLO ???

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

""FOUND-IN" TESTIFIES TO 'PHONE BET SYSTEM," Toronto Star. March 7, 1934. Page 3. ---- Two Men and Woman Elect Jury Trial on Wager Charges ---- Facing charges of keeping a gambling establishment, Lew Kendall, 31, Vaughan Rd., Frank Burroughs, 45, Mimico, and Margaret Walker. 24, New Toronto, appeared before Magistrate Keith in county police court today. All three elected trial by jury.

The three were arrested by provincial police following raids on a New Toronto bowling alley February 27. Burroughs, Kendall and Miss Walker each face a charge of keeping a common betting house. Kendall and Burroughs face jointly two charges of recording bets under section 235 of the criminal code. Arthur Slaght, K.C., appeared for Kendall and Burroughs.

Reginald Meehan, 45, charged with being found-in, gave an address on Filmore Ave., New York city. He had given police the name of Murphy, he admitted.

"How did you happen to be there?" questioned Crown Attorney Frank Moore. "I met Kendall in the Roxy theatre on February 19. and he invited me to come out to New Toronto," answered witness. "What did you find?" "A bowling alley and a large office."

"What did you do there?" "I placed two bets and then drove home."

"Who did you place them with?" "Kendall."

"What horses?" "I'd have to see the list of horses running that day," answered Meehan.

"What happened the next day?" "The same thing as on Monday."

"And the next day?" "Same as before, except that I shot some pool."

"How did you place the bets?" questioned the crown. "I told Kendall and he spoke over a telephone."

"What kind?" asked the crown. "A French 'phone, we call them in New York," said witness.

"What tracks were your horses on?" "Hialeah and New Orleans."

Shown a racing paper, witness said he couldn't "just remember" what horses he played.

"Who did you give the money to?" "Kendall put it in his pocket."

Meehan swore that he visited the establishment on subsequent dates, "till the place was raided on Tuesday. February 27."

Woman Answered Telephone Mechan told the court that he had placed a "telephone" bet on a day he was unable to get out to the establishment.

"What number did you call?" asked Mr. Moore. Witness gave a Junction number.

"Who answered?" "A woman's voice."

"What did you do?" "I gave a series of numbers."

"Which meant that you were placing a bet?" "Yes."

"How did you know whether you had won or not?" pressed the crown.

"Kendall apparently received in- formation over the phone." said witness, adding that Kendall "announced" what he had heard.

"Did Kendall ask for a number when he called?" "No."

"Was the receiver off when he went to the phone?" "Yes."

"Did you hear Burroughs say anything?"

"He commented on the lack of betting going on among the customers," replied Meehan.

Crown Attorney Moore objected when Mr. Slaght pressed Meehan to reveal his occupation.

"Why are you here in Canada?" asked Mr. Slaght. "I'm here on a confidential matter," answered Meehan.

"What is your occupation?" "Do I have to tell that?" witness asked the court.

"He does not," ruled his worship.

"I never knew a man to be ashamed of his occupation," remarked counsel.

"Are you an investigator?" asked Mr. Slaght. "I have done investigating." said witness, adding that he "was in Canada properly."

"Are you here to get evidence of supposed wrongdoing?" queried Mr. Slaght. "On a confidential matter."

"A stool pigeon." commented counsel.

"You have no right to make that statement." decreed the court.

Meehan said he had spent five and a half years in a Washington hospital as the result of war wounds.

"Did you make reports of your activities?" asked counsel. "Yes."

"To whom?" Witness did not answer.

"How did you make out?" questioned counsel. "I lost, on the whole, a total of $180."

Taunted Armed Boy "One of the other boys told him he couldn't hit a barn door so he fired the gun off," testified Harvey Mundil, 12, when Gordon Mundil, 17, appeared on a charge of having an air gun.

"It struck me in the leg." explained witness. "It was a small cut," added the boy's mother.

Young English, fair-haired and short for his age, pleaded that he had fired the gun from a distance of 125 feet.

"I didn't know it would shoot that far, English declared.

"The parents ought to be prosecuted," commented his worship. "The old-fashioned playthings are being taken away from the youngsters of to-day, observed the crown.

English was remanded for sentence and the air gun confiscated.

Andrew Logie, 45, pleaded not guilty to a charge of drunkenness, expressing vigorously a desire "to clear himself."

"He was drunk and taking up the whole sidewalk," testified a York township police officer.

"Why do say he was drunk?" asked the court.

"He was unsteady on his feet and talking to everybody he met," said the officer.

Accused explained that he had been visiting a friend in the city and had taken a couple of drinks of beer. Questioned by the crown accused said he was living at a hostel on Sherbourne St. and receiving relief from York township.

"How long since you worked?" queried the crown. "About 18 months."

"My instructions are that you haven't worked for years and have been going on like this for a long time," said Crown Attorney Moore.

"I've been living on the money I earned in the bush in Haliburton county." answered Logie.

"What did you do on the way from the hostel to York township?" "I stopped to watch the centennial celebration at the city hall."

"Where did you get those drinks of beer?" "I won't tell because I don't want to get some poor innocent fellow into trouble."

Police produced a bottle of liquor which they alleged Logie had left on a lawn when he saw the police car. "

This liquor is dangerous stuff and it should be analyzed," stated the crown.

"I don't know anything about it," pleaded accused.

"Maybe your head is not clear." remarked the bench, remanding Logie to March 9.

[thecreationofevelyn]

21/12/2023

"The difference is, you are the sunshine I chase, that I worship."

I haven't written anything for quite some time, life has been coming at me hard and fast, and I wasn't expecting this year to go the way it did at all. It has been filled with wonderful highs and devastating lows but I'm lucky enough to be in the company of my soulmate throughout, someone who has held me through it all...

Back in April I sat down to play one of my favorite games The Elder Scrolls Online, to relax for the evening, I was actually planning on staying up to reset my sleeping schedule as I had been unwell and it had knocked me out of routine. I'm pretty silly so I accidentally ended up on the American servers, so luckily even though it was late for me, the game was still active. I requested help from one of my guilds and a few people replied to say they would help, but only one person actually showed up. We got talking and long story short, within the past eight months he has moved countries to live with me, we're engaged to be married and we're expecting a child. It's a funny little story to tell our grandkids, is what we say.

After his visit to the UK to see me back in May, I visited the US in July, it was my first time being on a plane and I was kinda scared but once I was on there I found I love flying, turbulence is actually kinda fun (in small doses). I met his family, saw his hometown, met his friends and melted in the summer heat that was accompanied by a heatwave. My airline also completely messed up my return flight, which resulted in me being "stuck" in the US for another week (something my partner was actually wishing for on the way to dropping me off to the airport!), and like my knight in shining armor, he swung his car right round and said "I'm coming to get you, baby. Don't worry!".

In August, after selling all his possessions, he caught a flight to the UK and moved in with me. It felt wonderful to think there wasn't a limit on our time anymore, that from now on we'd wake up together every day. We had our time to adjust to living together and the ultimate outcome is that we are at home with each other. I now understand why people call their partners their "other half". I introduced him to my Grandmother who was unfortunately in the hospital at the time due to a fall, they chatted, she told him about the war and her life, he held her hand and told her how much he loves me, our plans for the future, that I'm the person he plans on marrying and having his children with. As I gave her a hug and a kiss goodbye, she squeezed my hand and said "He is wonderful." I replied, "I know". My grandma would always tell me "I hope you find someone who loves you properly, I'd love for you to be happy and have someone who will take care of you.", after living through years of abuse and hardship, I had grown into a horrible sense in hyper-independence and would tell her I was happy and I didn't need taking care of, but deep down, I always wished for the same too, I had just given up hope.

Sadly, that visit was the last time I got to speak to my Grandma, that night she had a stroke and I could speak to her but she wasn't really there...she held on for as long as she could, until she also caught Covid. She passed away in her sleep, thankfully in a comfortable bed surrounded by caring nurses, on the 2nd of October 2023. She lived to see her 94th birthday, on which I made a fuss of relighting her birthday candles because in the rush of filming her, we forgot to catch a photo of her. I'm glad I made a fuss, it was the last photo I would get of her, and it is a beautiful one.

On the 14th of October, I realized I could smell things a lot stronger; I took a pregnancy test...or twelve...and all came back positive. Our baby will be a Leo, the same star sign as my Grandma. Sometimes I think she held on until she was convinced I had found proper love.

We have made the decision to move to America in February to be around family, we will be working and saving and growing towards the plans we have made for our lives. I know my Grandma would be telling me to go and do it, I know she would be happy that for the first time in my life, I'm actually happy and doing what I want to do with my life.

I'm now two months pregnant and I've been having nausea but nothing to bad, it is manageable. The exhaustion is starting to slow down too, so I'm getting ready to begin being creative again with my YouTube channel. We have a lot of selling, packing, and preparing to do in the next two months, but in the meantime...it is almost Christmas, our first together, and it's also my birthday on the same day. My partner told me a story of how when he was Eleven years old his aunt asked him what he wanted for Christmas, and he replied "I don't want anything. Just a picture of my future wife.". He tells me now "And then you're born on Christmas Day...you're my Christmas present!".

Peace, Evee xo

[burnedbyshoto]

indulge me

indulge me: an arrangement

— Being a secret little girl in the modern world is rough, but it becomes much more chaotic when a classmate of yours offers to be your new daddy dom.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, nsfw, ddlg dynamic, college!au, modern!au, daddy!shouto, little girl!reader, I am not well versed in this dynamic please do not use this as an educational source, dom!shouto, sub!reader, biting, marking, mating press, nipple play (both), spanking, oral, gagging, choking, praise, degradation, little space

word count: 13,547

a/n: this is a commission for @bakusbiatch​ thank you for your endless amount fo patience as it took me 100x longer than ever to write this

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If there was something you knew now that you completely did not understand at the age of eighteen was the entire dynamics of sex. To be fair, after an adolescence of watching porn, reading erotica, and even gossiping between friends, it was, without doubt, that you were entirely clueless about real, healthy dynamics.

First off, the first time you had sex was super uncomfortable. 

There was no break or even space for pleasure to build in because you had been so tense, so awkward that you remained rigid and still the entire three minutes the guy fucked into you. You remember his sweat-soaked body collapsing on top of you, his eyes seeing galaxies in the stuffy, now smelly room as he breathed out a ‘Woah.’

You had smiled at him stiffly, letting his softening dick flop out of your dry vagina and curled in on yourself as he snuggled into you, praising the world and everything around it for this moment. It was without saying that you left his cum stained sheets and ran back home.

Sex sucked.

But that was when you were seventeen and made the terrible decision on fucking your friend with whom you had scary sexual tension. You avoided sex to your best ability after that, not so much as caring to allow anyone to touch you because that was disappointing. Why would you go through that when your fingers sufficed much better? Why go through that awkward tension when you didn’t have any moments of awkwardness when reading smut?!

Audios were better.

Words were best.

But, as one does, you fell in love against your will to a boy just a few months older than you. His smile was soft, and his words were kind, but oh, did his touch drive you hot and mad. You weren’t exactly sure how long you had lasted, how much perseverance you had kept when the two of you would fall onto his (thank fucking god) clean sheets, his strong hands and fingers keeping your hips close to his as you kissed him as if you couldn’t live without his touch.

“Are you… are you ready?” he had asked, his shirt thrown into the abyss of his room and the button of your jeans undone, revealing the simple set of panties you had on. “I don’t want to—”

“I’m ready,” you interrupt him, your body practically burning from the inside out with the desperate need and lust for him to fuck you. “I’m ready.”

He stills, his tongue peeking past his lips before a slow, chilling grin spreads against his mouth.

“Okay,” he nods, “can I ask you to do something, though?”

You, in your desperation to get his dick out of his sweats and buried deep into your throbbing cunt, nod.

“I have a daddy kink… I really, really like the daddy little girl dynamics,” he breathes, palms pressing to your knees and dragging down your inner thighs in a teasing, near authoritative way. “Can we… are you interested in trying it?”

Now, although you had largely avoided sex, toys and fingers weren’t nearly enough to replace the overwhelming need to be touched, fucked, and worshipped by another human being. You had fucked plenty of people who had always claimed to have kinks and fetishes. Most of the men you had in bed who said they had a daddy kink only liked being addressed as daddy; that was it. There was no true dynamic, just a play on the power the title brought them.

So, in the naive, childish way you were, you agreed.

You listened to his every command in bed, thrilled and keened under his praise for his princess, for his little girl, and you ate it up, thanking and praising your daddy. The sex ended with you cumming so hard you went blind for a moment, so dizzy from your high. As the both of you drifted off to sleep, you had no clue when you woke up in the morning he would present you with a little girl starter package made by him for you specifically. It was then that you realized that dynamics were an actual thing, and as he presented you a checklist of kinks, toys, and rules he laid out, you realized that nothing you had ever experienced — real or fictional — could have prepared you for this.

The two of you went through the list and rules together, your eyes widening and face blazing with embarrassment as he described his expectations and needs with this dynamic. You nodded, so completely lost in this entire thing that you agreed with most everything he offered and wanted.

The one rule you did have didn’t necessarily surprise him.

The dynamic was to remain a secret, you asserted, unable to budge on this thought. You could be his little girl, but it was to stay in private, never in public. And he tilted his head in thought but ultimately agreed with a smile. He thought you’d one day stop being in the closet over this kink, and you thought the opposite.

And time moves forward; it’s rigid and unforgiving. Two years into a relationship, a year and a half into the dynamic, you and your daddy break up, and you, against all odds, are left scrambling for a daddy you never realized you needed.

What was a girl to do?

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Your head is angled downward, and the hood that sits on your head is not concealing your face as well as you would have liked. It was without saying that you were a woman of pride. You took great care of what you did, how people viewed you, and how you presented yourself to the world. Most days, you always exited your small apartment as an excellent student who was always wearing properly done makeup and stylish outfits. 

Your style screamed confident woman (not little girl, you absolutely refused to wear anything cutesy in public), and you walked with your chin raised and eyes on the horizon.

To see that you were in sweats, an oversized hoodie, no makeup on, and perusing the store's area made for young girls and toddlers, was a shock. You had made sure to come nearly thirty minutes before closing; no one would be here to accidentally see you, no one could see you in your embarrassing shame-picking for your dynamic. All because your newest daddy couldn’t afford to buy you new things since your old ones had your ex’s name or brand all over it.

This was for the best; you reminded yourself as you haphazardly threw the items within the basket, face flaming as you ignored the temptation to simply stand in the aisle and flip through the sticker book and coloring book you recently tossed into the cart. You were fine; you already had your plan of action on what to say when purchasing these items.

‘My sister is pregnant again, and she already has a kid,’ you mentally rehearsed, imagining an excited smile on your face because you are excited for this imaginary pregnant sister of yours. ‘It’s a present for the baby and the brat.’

Solid.

Perfect.

Beautiful.

Making sure to quickly take note of what was inside the basket, you spun on your heel and marched your way through the empty store to the deserted register.

You kept your head down as you placed the basket on the conveyor belt, easy peasy, you would be fine!

“Found everything you were looking for?” a voice asks, piercing through your mental rehearsal just in case you got questions. 

You blink, head raising up, exposing your face to the person behind the register.

It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.

Checking things out at the register wasn’t supposed to be all that embarrassing. I mean, what could top having to buy pads and tampons from a creepy, greasy old man during your very first period ever?! But you had to admit seeing a familiar face behind the register as he began to scan the items in your cart kinda made it a big deal.

Todoroki Shouto read his name tag, and ‘TODOROKI SHOUTO?!’ screamed your heart. 

Oh, how to describe Todoroki Shouto, well you didn’t even know where to begin.

Shouto was one thousand percent a supermodel that has yet to be recruited. He could probably be a top star athlete, good enough to go overseas if he wanted. He was a genius. Someone who was somehow friends with everyone he came across even though he was a man of few words. 

He stood tall behind the register, the tight black high collared shirt sitting beneath a light blue opened dress shirt. His distinctive red and white slightly wavy hair — all-natural, you believe — pushed back in a way that you would bet to hell and back that he had run his fingers through it. For the past three years in university, you had more than a few classes with this stunning man. You two shared the same major, and he often sat at the back of the classroom, but you were nearly hyperaware of everything he did because his voice was liquid honey and sex and everything that was —

“You can let go of the basket,” Shouto cut through your thoughts, and you gasped loudly, suddenly realizing that you had zoned out thinking about him.

Your hand lets go of the basket, and you slap your sweater-covered hands over your mouth; horror strikes through you like a blazing sword. You weren’t wearing makeup, you were in trash clothes, and you were in front of a man you had lusting feelings over!

NO!

“Sorry!” you squeak, your heart and bile rising up your throat at alarming rates as Shouto merely smiles at you in understanding. “This is all stuff for my sister!”

Shouto blinks, his head tilting to the side as he scans a sippy cup.

“Your sister’s quite young,” he remarks easily, trying not to make you feel stupider—probably.

Tell the lie, y/n, you chide yourself as you shift your weight.

“Ah, well, not actually my sister,” you explain, fingers scratching against your scalp. “My sister is pregnant r-right now, and she already has a little one, so I thought that this would be a good… present?”

Nailed it.

Shouto’s eyebrows quirk, a small smile spreading across his face as he scans the plush doll. 

“That’s very kind of you; you must have a good relationship with your sister.”

“O-Oh yeah, we’re very close.”

“And would you say that this is something appropriate to give to a pregnant family member and their child?”

You froze and looked down at the items you had hastily thrown into the basket.

It was a pacifier, sippy cup, baby blanket, choker, coloring books, stuffed animal, candy, and stickers.

You choked, feeling heat exploding in your cheeks all over again; absolutely not. This was not something to give to a pregnant woman.

“My sister is pregnant,” Shouto explains, definitely sensing your poorly concealed stress, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m the youngest of my siblings, so I don’t really know what to buy her.”

“Absolutely the fuck not.”

Shouto blinked, and before you could start screaming apologies over your rudeness, he began laughing loudly. Your face continued to burn in your utter humiliation and shame, but Shouto only found amusement in this all as he began to place your items away in a bag. 

“What are your recommendations then?” Shouto finally asked, his lips pulled back into an easy, teasing grin. “And that’ll be forty-eight seventy-three.”

You shoved your card into the chip scanner immediately, your gaze everywhere but on him.

“I think you should get whatever your sister wants or still needs,” you quickly say, eyes now focusing on the Approved message on the machine. “Every person is different.”

“I suppose,” Shouto agrees, his arms crossing against his chest, and you have to resist the temptation to ogle at the way his muscles become sinfully pronounced. “Well, I won’t hold you up. See you in lecture tomorrow, y/l/n.”

“Bye!” you squawk, grabbing your bag and racing out.

His eyes burn into your back the entire rush out of the store, but you find that you can’t seem to worry about that. You’re much more elated and somehow horrified at the realization that he knew exactly who you were.

Step zero of who knows how many to get Todoroki Shouto to fall in love with you, complete!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“So, about the upcoming paper assignment, I’m sure you’re all eager to get started on,” your professor’s voice boomed throughout the lecture hall, his arms folding across his chest as he leans against the podium with an easy grin. “I decided that I would be nice and allow for some partnering up!”

Your eyes widened as excited murmurs exploded through the classroom. 

Partners for a ten-page paper? You were going to thank god almighty. 

But, at the same time, you frowned. This was a class where you didn’t exactly know anyone. It was a course outside of your own major, and with your usual friends not in this class, you knew that you were going to have to go out of your way to find a partner. You withered a bit in your chair, not entirely on board with that train of thought.

“There are an uneven amount of you guys in the class, though,” your professor continued, still sporting that easy grin on his face. “And I decided that instead of having too many groups of three, and because I was so nice to allow partner work, I decided to make the partners. Look at the pinned paper at the door for your partner or partners for the group of three! No, I will not allow trades, and no, I will not allow complaining! Be grateful!”

Hopeful and exasperated murmurs sounded through the room as the professor dismissed the class and frantic movement followed after. Even as old as they were, everyone was desperate and eager to see who a random generator assigned them to. Packing up swiftly, you threw your bag over your shoulder and began walking towards the list. 

You wonder who you were gonna get.

“Y/l/n,” a voice spoke softly, lowly by your ear.

You whipped around — one part startled, a second part curious — and came to see Todoroki Shouto standing slightly behind you. His gaze was at the wall for a moment, dropping only when you were looking up at him. He smiles slowly, and you feel your chest tighten.

Oh boy.

“Todoroki,” you smile, attempting to relax completely in front of him. “Any hopes as to who’s your partner?”

“Well, as long as it isn’t Sero, I think it’ll be okay,” Shouto’s eyes crinkle with his deepened smile. “Last time I did a paper with him, we did it completely high—” you choke, eyes widening at the thought of trying to be eloquent enough to write a paper while high. “—It was terrible.”

“Oh, I bet,” you laugh, arms crossing across your chest as the two of you begin inching forward within the crowd, others leaving with proud laughs, curious frowns, or aggravated groans. “But at least it sounds like it was turned in?”

“It was,” Shouto nods, his teeth flashing as he finally tears his gaze from you. “Oh, would you look at that?”

You hum, eyes squinting as you try to read the list through the many heads before you.

Y/l/n, Todoroki S.

“Would you look at that.”

“Seems like we’re partners,” you laugh, relief and horror flooding your body.

“I’m glad it’s you.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

So, it was decided that with the two weeks given to write the paper and taking Shouto’s job into account, this paper was to be written as soon as possible. The suggestion of working on it together in the same room and not just through google doc was brought up and agreed upon. So with consensus on that, the matter of where it was going to happen was brought up.

“We can do it at my place,” Shouto offered with a shrug, “my house is pretty big.”

“I don’t have a car,” you interject, a frown on your face — you wanted to see his house. “My apartment is five minutes from campus. Is that alright?”

A smile.

“That’s perfect.”

And so, on a Friday afternoon, you found yourself already apologizing profusely as you walked up the staircase that smelled just a tiny bit of cheese. You warned him about the mess of your apartment. About how not to judge you on any and all messes you might have made on your way out! That you would have cleaned up had you known this was happening!

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Shouto spoke, attempting to ease your anxiety as you push your key in the doorknob and turn it. “I really don’t mind a messy place.”

“Ha, well, this is it,” you say, your face feeling disgustingly warm as you breach the entrance to your small one bedroom one bathroom place. “Leave your shoes right there, and we can head in!”

Toeing off your own shoes, you scrambled into the apartment, eyes wide as you attempted to make sure that nothing was crazily messy or out of place. There wasn’t any dirty laundry or undergarments anywhere? No, good!

Shouto locks the door behind himself, a chuckle at the back of his throat vibrating in his chest as he watches you skirt about. He looks down at the shoes you were wearing, white sneakers, and smirks at how small they look compared to his. He never really thought he was that tall or big, to be honest. It was a decent size for someone from his family, but it amused him greatly to see his things pushed against yours.

He looked back up, eyes landing on your flustered face as you stood by a table in the kitchen area.

“Ready?” he asked, hands shoving into his pockets.

“I believe so!”

And for some reason, probably the very same reason that had him entranced by you, Shouto laughs and steps foot into your apartment.

The paper itself isn’t that hard.

It’s an argumentative piece mostly on a Green Act proposal that was currently being debated within the government body. A paper that was fifty percent argument was something you were elated to have, but the other fifty percent was using sources and articles to further back your point. It was now two hours into the paper writing, takeout filling the empty spaces between the table as Shouto’s laughter and your ranting filled the open air. It was nice; he was nice to hang out with.

“I’m just saying we are nearing a universal climate disaster, and I do not want to be wondering when I will die because some fat old men with huge wallets want to continue getting richer!” you yelled, your chest heaving with your lack of proper air. “It’s dumb!”

“I bet if you grabbed ahold of their favorite toupees, they’d fold and agree,” Shouto teases, his grin covered by the mug he’s currently drinking tea from. “I’ll bail you out of prison.”

“I wouldn’t go to prison for that,” you argue, arms folding across your chest as you shake your head in solemn understanding. “They’d murder me and make it look like an accident.”

“Dark.”

“You know it.”

“I’ll avenge you.”

“You better, or else I’ll blame you for my murder.”

Shouto’s jaw dropped, ready to retaliate with something else, but he was interrupted by a loud call from your phone. You frowned, head tilting as you pulled your phone out from your jean pocket and stared at the screen.

Incoming call from: dd.

“I have to take this,” you say apologetically, standing up as you answered the call. You waited until you were in your bedroom before placing the phone to your head, your heart hammering with the unknown. “Hello?”

.

Shouto heard the click of your bedroom door, and he sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes looked up at the ceiling, momentarily bored now that he wasn’t with you. He wondered who ‘dd’ was and if you were alright. He hoped it wasn’t anything serious.

Grabbing his water cup, Shouto frowned, seeing that it was empty. He looked over at the sink where you had initially filled up the water cups. You wouldn’t mind if he filled it up on his own, right? Shouto pushed back his chair and stood, the cup resting in his fingers as he walked over towards the sink with a light hum.

He filled the cup slowly, not wanting to make too much noise. But as he stared at the drying dishes on your dish holder, he frowned at the sight of the pink sippy cup you had bought from the store last week. It was cleaned, obviously used, and he tilted his head.

Weird.

The cupboard was open, and Shouto couldn’t help but look into the dark wood and startled once again when he took in the neatly folded bib and the nearly innocuous pacifier sitting on top of it. Untouched, undisturbed, but used — definitely used.

Frowning, he took a slow, long drink of his water as he stared out towards the small living room you had. There, sitting on the wood coffee table, was the coloring book you had also purchased. That wasn’t adding up… if they were for your sister’s kids, why were they here? It didn’t exactly seem like the place to be holding them. 

Shouto thought, trying to figure out just why you had all these things for… well, children.

Was testing products on your own a thing people did?

Well, yes, he supposed so, but these were already licensed products. The coloring book, well, he guesses that was a pretty normal thing! Drawing and coloring were everyday stress relieves — his mother often used that to help herself. But a pacifier, a bip, and a sippy cup? The only thing he could rationalize with that was—

“You’re being fucking ridiculous, daddy!” your voice harshly whispered (maybe ridiculed and mocked) from your room, just loud enough that Shouto heard, and his eyes widened.

Oh.

Ohh fuck.

.

.

.

“You know what, this isn’t working,” you scoff, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you roll your eyes to the heavens above. “This was a good trial run, but I’m going to have to end this. This is not what I was looking for.”

“Come on, brat, you know you don’t mean that—”

You hung up, your fingers curled in a fist as you growled lowly at the screen. You wasted no time in blocking the number. What a fucking terrible daddy he was. Didn’t buy you anything, didn’t support you, or help you. There was no dynamic in this relationship. It was just a power-hungry dom with a streak for being called daddy.

A fucking poser at best.

Rolling your eyes, you tossed your phone onto your bed and walked out of your room back to the main area of your place. You looked at Shouto, who was sitting in his chair, his face bored, maybe a bit tired, and his face was concentrated on his phone — he was idly scrolling through it.

“Sorry that took so long,” you apologize, slinking back onto your chair, hands rubbing your face. “I tried to be fast about that.”

Shouto peered past the top of his phone, a comforting smile on his face, “Don’t worry about it; it wasn’t like we were intensely working on the paper anyways.”

You smile, slightly embarrassed. 

“That’s true, um—”

“I think it’s time—”

The both of you spoke over each other clumsily, awkwardly — both of you obviously thinking of something that wasn’t quite in front of you. Your smile feels less forced now, “we’re done for the day?”

Shouto shifts in his chair, his head dropping slightly in agreement, “I think that would be best. We did a lot today, though.”

“We did!” you agree with a laugh, standing up and grabbing the items off the table, assisting Shouto with getting ready to leave. “We’ll meet back up in two days?”

Shouto nods, “that sounds like a plan.”

You help him pack up, insisting that you could clean up the kitchen without his help. It takes a few minutes, but finally, you have him walking out of your place, a light wave on your hand before he exits onto the staircase. You close the door with a sigh.

Jesus Christ.

.

.

Shouto stands in the stairway, his eyes concentrated on his phone where he has a single question typed into his browser.

ddlg dynamics ↳ Let’s talk DDLG, also known as Daddy Dom Little Girl. It’s a submissive/dominant relationship where the dom is known as a “Daddy,” and the submissive is known as a “Little Girl.”

...Interesting.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Now, you were a pretty paranoid person; you could admit that. 

You didn’t like being paranoid, but you were. Most days, you always triple-checked you weren’t being followed, quadruple-checked you had your school assignments turned in and your things in your bag. With your sex life and part of your social life being introduced to the ddlg dynamic, your paranoia grew even more.

Most people weren’t understanding — they weren’t. They assumed this dynamic was simply calling your dom daddy in bed and getting called princess in return! They always believed that, allowed for that. It was socially acceptable to call your dom daddy in bed, but god fucking forbid any other part of the dynamic come into play.

You remember reading comments in articles about grown women sitting in frilly skirts and diapers as part of her dynamic and watching grown adults tear her apart — skin and bones. That was the reaction you feared, you hated.

There was a reason why you enjoyed sitting in your frilly skirts, in your white and baby pink clothes. You loved having your dom come home, tired and stressed, and ask you, his little girl, to sit on his lap while he distressed. You enjoyed the sippy cups that helped to melt your anxiety, and you enjoyed doing chores under your doms watchful eye.

The praises, the rewards were always so uplifting, and the sex was always on an intensity that made you tremble with explosive satisfaction. If your dom wanted you in diapers, you would negotiate appropriately, and you sure as hell didn’t need a fucking stranger’s opinion on whether or not that was ‘normal.’

But no amount of confidence you had in your dynamic had ever eased the bottomless paranoia and anxiety. 

Hence why after Shouto had left your apartment and you realized in horror that you had left out some damning evidence to your dynamic. The coloring book on your coffee table and the sippy cup that was obviously used were on full display. You wondered for a few hours, nearly spirling with anxiety if he had noticed — if that was why he was partially stiff as he left for the day. You had only managed to calm down when he had sent you a text later that night that he had enjoyed being over and was looking forward to working together the next day.

The praise was needed, seeping warm into your bones as you rolled over in your bed and knocked out.

You thought that you were in the clear. That that was as far as things were going to go, but your paranoia came back the next day in full force as you sat in a group with Shouto.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Do you want a sticker?”

That was the beginning of it all.

You had accepted the sticker without a second thought. Your typical barriers down because the lack of a dom in your life was throwing you for a bit. God, you were pathetic. You had smiled brightly, eagerly nodding as you thrust your hands out towards Shouto, waiting to receive a sticker. 

“Good job,” he had said with an endearing smile, “you deserve it.”

It was only then that the weight of what happened settled on your bones, and you froze.

Fuck.

Smiling stiffly, you pressed the sparkly pink star to your shirt and returned back to your assignment, unable to speak up again for some time.

You had hoped that it was going to end there, but it seemed that nothing about your life was going in your favor right now. 

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Do you have a bedtime?” Shouto idly asked one late night when he was over, and you could not stop yawning to save your life. “I think everyone should go to bed at 10 p.m. on a school night, don’t you agree?”

You had choked on your saliva before disagreeing vehemently. 

“I don’t sleep until… like, um, three in the morning?” you make up, teeth tearing into your lip as you avoided eye contact.

“Such a bad girl,” Shouto murmured, much too low for you to pick up.

“What?!”

“That’s bad for your health,” he recovered with a smile.

“Oh… yeah, I suppose so.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Y/l/n is a sub; she’s a brat about that,” Shouto said to the group you both were assigned to in yet another class the two of you shared.

You had been idly drinking from your coffee cup and was utterly zoned out when he said that. So when you had picked up his words, you nearly choked at the sentence, your eyes watering and your throat burning with your drink and humiliation as the entire table turned to look at you.

“Oh shit, are you okay?!” Mina asked, eyes wide.

“I’m a what?!” you splutter instead, eyes focused on Shouto and your cheeks beginning to burn with unsaid fear.

“You’re a substitute babysitter for your sister,” Shouto remarked, his head tilted as he feigned innocence. “You were telling me about that the other day, remember? Sero is trying to get into the babysitting gig too.”

You wanted to believe him, you wanted so desperately to believe that Shouto was just somehow landing a missile into every paranoid corner of your life without meaning to, but this was getting out of control. This was too on the head, too obvious to not say that he somehow saw your little things and pieced together the dynamic you’ve come to love and thrive in. But you couldn’t fess up; you wouldn’t give yourself to the wolves of embarrassment and shame over something you knew wasn’t wrong.

“Oh,” you say stiffly, smiling over at Sero, “I’m on an app that is used a lot by small families; I can text you the name?”

“I’d appreciate that!” Sero laughs, blissfully unaware of the rising tension between you and Shouto. “I didn’t think that high school girls had some type of business turf thing; they’re scary and aggressive!”

“It’s a serious job for high schoolers,” Mina waved him off, “this is the only thing most of them can do!”

The conversation between Sero and Mina began to drift off as you were staring at Shouto, unable to break the eye contact the both of you found yourselves connected by. You didn’t want to pull away, too bitter and anxious to. You were currently two weeks without a daddy dom in your life, and you knew that you should be able to have a better grasp on your life than this — you knew you couldn’t lean on this dynamic at every point in your life. But you were sad to admit that you were struggling to keep your head afloat. You felt like you were almost drowning, struggling to keep your composure as you needed a play or a simple scene.

But the confidence in Shouto’s eyes that were hidden behind the sheer curiosity and wonder was making your skin itch, making you want to grab him by the collar and bring him in close and demand to know exactly what he was thinking. 

He would not embarrass you.

He would not.

“Can I talk to you, Todoroki?” you asked, practically demanded of Shouto as the group of you began to stand at the table, readying to leave. 

If you noticed Mina’s and Sero’s eyebrows shoot up towards the ceiling, you didn’t say anything as Shouto paused in putting things into his backpack. His head tilted, but he nodded his head, “yeah, about what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile stiffly, tossing your own backpack over your shoulder as you turn on your heel and immediately begin walking. Uncaring if he was following you or not. “Bye, Mina, Sero.”

There’s silence behind you before the heady sound of a chair scraping against the floor is heard and the long, quick strides of Shouto following after you. You exit the cafe you had been in, eyes squinting when the harsh rays of sun fall on your face, but you don’t hesitate or pause even once.

There’s no one outside right now; it’s just you and Shouto. 

You feel him at your shoulder, and you keep your gaze straight ahead, unwilling to look at him just yet. 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” you finally whisper, your voice low and angry. You nearly spat them out at him, utterly humiliated and horrified that you were probably outing yourself should he just be that dense and annoyingly able to pick at your anxiety. “Stop it.”

“I don’t—” Shouto began, eyes wide and screaming of innocence that could make you cry.

“I know you saw my things, and I know you pieced it together,” you cut him off, your lips pursed tight. You suddenly stop in your tracks, tears burning at the back of your eyes as you turn to face Shouto. “So if you have a problem with that, I suggest that you kindly fuck off!”

Shouto stands next to you, hair hastily swept backward, hand on the strap of his bag, and his face telling you that you had miscalculated something. You prayed it wasn’t about how he knew about you being a little.

“I don’t have a problem with that,” Shouto admits, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t think you’re weird or strange or bad for being into the ddlg dynamic. I’m actually… I take part in it too. I was trying to subtly tell you that I was into it as well, and well, I heard that you and your last dom broke it off… I wanted to tell you that I was interested in becoming your new dom.”

You blink.

“Eh?!”

“I’m interested in forming an agreement with you?” Shouto tilts his head; there’s a sense of seriousness to his face, his eyes innocent. “I need a little, and if you’re looking for a dom…”

He lets the silence fill the rest of his sentence, and your mouth gapes open as blood rushes to your face at the straightforward request.

“I… I barely know you!” you splutter, your heart in your ears as you can barely comprehend what was going on. 

Two weeks ago, Todoroki Shouto was practically a stranger. You knew him about as well as a person knew the barista at their favorite coffee shop. Friendly, but not close. Definitely not close enough for you to say that you would allow for him to see you in your little space, for him to give you a list of rewards and punishments — for possible sex?!

“Most caregiver contracts like this are done between people who know even less,” Shouto shrugs, his arms folded across his chest. “You don’t have to say yes now or even agree, but I like you a lot. I want to pursue a relationship with you, and I assumed that this would be a good starting ground especially if you need it.”

Your tongue sweeps across your lips, unable to come up with a single rationale thing to say. 

“I don’t need an answer right now; indulge me, though,” Shouto smiles softly, his gaze dropping for a moment. “Take as much time as you need. We can do a single scene to test it out, and if it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings. Let me know when you’re interested in it, though.”

You can’t say anything; you can only numbly nod as Shouto smiles at you once again.

“Let me know.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [received Today 23:44]

Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [seen 7 Days Ago 23:44]

You: ↳ Send your points, we can see if we’re compatible. [seen now]

Todoroki S.: ↳ I enjoyed the scene we did today; I hope you did too. I’m interested in making this a real thing if you are too. [received Today 20:44]

You: ↳ I did, too, actually, lol. Um, thank you, first of all! We can work on the contract now. [received Today 20:48]

Todoroki S.: ↳ Okay. I’ve already made the first draft of one; if you’d like to look it over, let me know what you think, and we can edit some things around. [seen now]

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

It has been two months since the contract was signed.

Two months.

Two months of Shouto practically living in your apartment with you, a once stranger seeing you at your most vulnerable. He was a steady hand on your back as you slipped into your desired little space, a constant warmth at your side as you went about your day at home. 

It had been weird at first; your anxiety still wouldn’t let up, nearly convincing you many times that this was all but a prank. That Shouto would pull away from you when you least expected it and would expose you to the world. There had been many times where he would hold you on his lap, his arms warm around your back, your favorite stuffed animal sitting on your lap as he promised you that you were wrong.

“Daddy is here to protect you, sunshine,” Shouto murmured in your ear, his warm lips pressing to the small behind your ear. “Daddy would never do that to my baby girl. That wouldn’t make me happy.”

“I-It wouldn’t?” you sniffled, your nose face nuzzling further into his neck as your sobs had finally stopped. 

“No, not at all, sunshine,” Shouto smiled against the crown of your head. You felt his lips press a soft kiss there, his warm hands stroking up and down your back. “Do you remember what makes Daddy happy?”

You blink, your wet eyelashes heavy and sticking together as you peer at his jaw as if it could possibly tell you.

“I can’t… I can’t remember, sorry, Daddy,” you sniffle again, suddenly terrified that he would be upset with you. You were such a terrible baby girl.

“What makes Daddy happy is seeing his baby girl smiling, happy, protected, and safe,” Shouto easily relays, pulling you away from his shoulder, his calloused fingers rubbing the tear streaks that still stain down your face. “I promise that I will never do anything to cause you harm, sunshine. I only want you to be happy; you being happy makes me happy like nothing before.”

There’s no stopping the way your bottom lip trembles with the pleasant weight of his words, the way it warms you from your belly and curls to your toes.

“Pinky promise?” you whimper, somehow out of breath.

Shouto looks at your curved pinky that is extended out for him to hold, to seal the other half of a promise he has no intentions of ever breaking.

Smiling softly, Shouto wraps his pinky with yours and twists it gently, locking the promise.

“Pinky promise,” he affirms, placing a kiss to your knuckles.

.

.

He was so good to you.

So sweet, gentle, patient, and kind.

He tended to spend the night Mondays through Fridays, giving you the weekend to be on your own. He only ever slept in your bed with your given consent (which was every single time), and there was just something about wearing the silver chained choker on your neck that he bought for you. Dainty and cute, nothing too crazy to draw overwhelming attention.

It had a tiny cherry blossom that was engraved with Shouto on the back.

It was a constant and calming reminder of what you had during the day.

The arrangement was going better than you had assumed it was going to be.

Shouto made for an excellent daddy, but there was one grievance you had. With two months of extreme kinship, so many nights of being curled into his side, getting near-daily cuddles for following his orders perfectly, and a few spanks because you were careless even after he warned you — you had assumed that the sexual part of the dynamic would come out. 

You had okayed for him to be able to fuck you, regardless of whether or not you were in little space! You reached your little space more often than not around him because he was so well, but now you were bordering desperation. You wanted your daddy to please you more, to give you the reward you wanted most: his cock.

“I’m home, bunny,” Shouto called out, his voice hinting exhaustion but mostly satisfaction at being home again.

Per your rules and regulations, greeting Shouto with a cheerful ‘welcome home, daddy!’ when he arrived home was a must. It was a clear indicator that not only were you home but that you wished to indulge in the dynamic for the rest of the day.

But you sat at the coffee table wearing an unapproved, not chosen outfit for home.

You were wearing an off-the-shoulder white cotton shirt that was big and soft, pink lace shorts that barely covered your ass but was hemmed with lace and pretty frill. You had thigh highs on as well that were the same pink as your shorts. There was a pacifier in your mouth, your gaze focused on the Disney coloring book in front of you as you colored in Sleeping Beauty. 

You turned your head, eyes looking at your daddy with a vague look of disinterest before turning back to your coloring.

“I said ‘I’m home,’ bunny,” Shouto restated, giving you the benefit of the doubt of whether or not you heard him. Typically you were excited to have him home, going to his side immediately and asking a million questions as to what he had been doing and why he was home so late. 

“Hmph,” was your response as you placed a sticker onto the coloring page.

Shouto’s eyebrows furrowed; he toed off his shoes and began walking towards you, assessing what was happening. 

“Is my bunny mad that I was a bit later than I had promised?” he asked, sitting on the couch behind you, his fingers brushing across your clothes as if he was trying to remember if he had selected this outfit. But the sudden touch that you were craving in a way like no other made your head spin just so, and you resisted the motion of caving.

You wanted to be a brat! Your daddy should be taking care of all your needs! He promised he would be taking care of you better than you took care of yourself! He should know when you wanted his cock!

“Hmph!” you hrmph again, and you lean out of his touch even though you craved it. 

Although you couldn’t see him, you could feel the slow, calculating blink Shouto took at this action. There’s a moment of silence before the couch sounds under his shifting weight. You freeze at the feeling of his warm palm on your spine, a whisper of danger. It feels partially like a threat, a reminder of impending consequences.

“What did daddy say about bunny using her words?” Shouto asks, his voice stern, low, commanding. 

It should scare you, but the threat in his voice makes your heart stammer and your cunt wet. So, instead of doing what’s right, you stand up, ignoring him yet again as you stick your nose up to the ceiling and try to walk away. 

Well, you try to, that is.

Before you can go too far, Shouto’s fingers are wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place.

 “You know I don’t like it when you don’t speak, right?” Shouto asks, his eyes digging into your cheek as you refuse to look at him. Yet another rule he has in place. You had to look at him when he spoke to you or when you spoke to him. It was to help make sure that you behaved properly in public — to make you the best baby girl ever. “Use your words and look at me, princess.”

The word princess rolled off his tongue, and you bit down on your tongue to keep the breathy moan from expelling from your lips. He typically only used princess when you were on the verge of genuinely displeasing him, when he was warning you one last time before a punishment was given. Your daddy was two months without jacking off, exhausted from work, and now dealing with you, his bratty baby girl. There was no way this wasn’t going to end with him forcing you to suck him off or to use you as an onahole (something you had said was okay unless you used your safeword, of course).

You shook in his hold, teeth biting your lip as you stared at the wall, refusing to heed his command.

“I’ll give you to the count of three to look at me and address me,” Shouto says, his thumb stroking the innard of your wrist. “One.”

There was no way you would cave.

“Two.”

The silence between the two of you was heavy.

“One.”

Excitement shot through you at the thought of him finally fucking you into your mattress.

“No dessert tonight,” is what Shouto said instead, and you froze.

You whipped your head towards Shouto, fury, and humiliation painting your face as your jaw drops, the pacifier falling onto the floor.

“No!”

“No?” Shouto repeats, his eyes narrowed, unhappy with the challenge. “Do you want me to take away your video games too?”

“No!” you shriek, hands clawing at your face because this was not going the way it was going. “I want my dessert and my video games!”

“Too bad, princess,” Shouto states sternly, unaffected by your growing tantrum. “You lost them both for tonight.”

“No! Give them back! I haven’t done anything wrong, daddy!” you scream, throwing your arms in your hysterics as Shouto stands up to his full height, looming over you without a single issue. Tears prick at the back of your eyes because you’ve messed up somehow; your daddy doesn’t want you — doesn’t love you the way you love him.

“You’ve been misbehaving this entire time I’ve come back home,” Shouto retorts, his other hand grabbing your wrist and managing to place them both close to his chest, limiting your thrashing actions. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the new outfit.”

“I don’t want those punishments, daddy! I don’t want t-them,” you wheeze, your eyes locked on your hands that are bound so tightly in his hands, and you whimper loudly. “You’re hurting me, daddy!”

“And you’re trying to hurt me,” Shouto calmly points out. “I can’t have you doing that, so I’ll hold onto you until you calm down enough. I’m doing this because I care for my little brat.”

“You don’t care! You don’t c-care!” you sob finally, unable to keep the hot tears from your eyes. “Daddy doesn’t care about me!”

The effect is evident and instant.

Shouto’s grip on your wrist lessens altogether, and your pounding fists finally connect with his chest as you collapse against him.

“Daddy doesn’t c-care…”

“That’s not true,” Shouto breathes easily, his fingers brushing against your sides before his arms wrap around you. “I care so much for you, baby. What’s wrong? Tell me what I can do to make things better.”

A loud sniffle emits from you, and you fist your hands in his shirt, your head shaking. 

“It’s been two months, and daddy won’t let me have his cummies,” you whisper, terrified that he would reject you. “Am I not good enough? Attractive enough that daddy wants to reward me with his dick?”

There’s a shift in the air.

“My little doll wants her daddy’s cock, is that what?” Shouto murmured against the top of your head. “My precious, innocent baby girl wants something filthy like that.”

“Mmn,” was all you could manage, your face burning at the implications, the suggestion in his voice. 

“And instead of using her words, as we practice, she decided to act like a little brat to get her way,” Shouto’s voice is low, raspy, and deep. Its tenor is just right that it makes the room instantly hotter, your body brimming with excited energy. “I think… my beautiful doll has broken too many rules for me to just give her a good reward. She deserves to be my little doll as punishment for now. I thought she was grown enough to ask for things she wanted.”

You gasp as Shouto’s warm, calloused hands drop down to the minimally exposed flesh between your booty shorts and your thigh highs. It sends an entire wave of goosebumps down your skin, and you shudder as they rise upwards, slipping under your shirt and resting on the soft skin of your stomach. 

“Your punishment will be what daddy wants it to be, doll,” Shouto states, his fingernails brushing over your clothed nipples, and you mewl at the touch. “You’ve given up your right to speak right now, and because daddy can’t trust you to not be a brat, you will suck daddy’s dick until I see it fit. You will stand on your knees like the beautiful doll daddy knows you can be. Silent, obedient, and so beautiful.”

The words are a goldmine you’ve wanted to hear this entire time, but you’re upset — rightfully upset — that it took your daddy so long to figure it out! He needed you to spell it out for him to act on it!

“I don’t like sucking dicks!” you complain, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “That’s yucky!”

Shouto raised an eyebrow at that, his eyes flashing dangerously as he absorbed the implications of your actions. He knew he was going to earn this just as much as you were.

“Excuse me?” Shouto says calmly, a single eyebrow arched. “Do you want to repeat that?”

“You heard m-me,” you stammer, trying to remain steady under his steady stare. “If daddy couldn’t catch that, maybe I should be the one giving out the punishments.”

A hot, predatory smirk pulls across his face as his grip on your wrist tightens, and he yanks you just slightly closer towards him.

“Oh really?” he chuckles so coldly you shiver. “So you think you’re in charge here?”

You nod slowly, your pupils wide and blown. Your eyes were transfixed on his mouth, his pretty plump lips practically calling your name. 

His tongue swipes across his front teeth, and you watch him in awe, horror, and damning horny anticipation as he sits back on the couch and takes you down with him. You struggle for a bit, terrified as you feel unbalanced, ready to tumble to the floor. But your stomach is pressed heavily against his knees, pleasurable discomfort spreading through your body as you recognize this easy, beautiful spanking position. 

“I’m going to give you ten spanks,” Shouto announces, his hand rubbing smooth circles over your soft shorts. “You will count every one of them and thank me for each one. If you mess up, if you misbehave, you will get more until you do as I demand.”

You struggle against his hold, thrashing and twisting as his fingers push the shorts higher up your ass, exposing your flesh to him. But as he did so, you remember that you’re not wearing panties, and Shouto sees that too.

“Mm, you’re not wearing panties,” Shouto says, his voice trying to keep the undying want and lust from bleeding through his tone. “My precious doll is that desperate she couldn’t fully dress herself?”

“I can d-dress— aahhh!!!!”

Your interjection was interrupted by the sharp, well-practiced spank that Shouto delivered to your round ass. You arched against his lap, your skin tingling and feeling pathetically good. 

“I said you were my doll right now, and dolls don’t speak unless given permission to,” Shouto clipped, his hand circling your now tender flesh. “You didn’t count, so let's try again.”

SLAP.

“Oh my god!” you shriek at the contact, your head spinning at the craved touch. It wasn’t like his typical spanks, the ones that came down not to hurt but to remind you, to correct you to be better. These stung with power, reminding you that you were getting what you craved, and you felt your toes curl and your cunt beginning to seep with the knowledge.

Fuck, you wanted this.

THWACK.

“Again.”

THWACK.

“Daddy can spank your pretty little ass all day, doll. Do as you’re told if you want daddy’s cock.”

SPANK.

“O-One, thank you, daddy!”

WHACK!

You threw your head back at the sensation, your eyes crossing and your hips bucking backward as you shriek with pleasure. You don’t count, your head swimming with unfound energy, and Shouto tsks.

“You’re so terrible at following directions, aren’t you?” Shouto asks, his mouth hovering by your ear, and you nearly melt when his teeth tug at your cartilage at the same time he serves another heated spank to your perky ass. “Such a dirty brat, getting off on her punishments. But let me tell you, if you don’t start following what I instruct of you, I’ll fuck your mouth and leave you without any cummies.”

You gasp loudly, sobbing as he delivers yet another solid spank for your undoubtedly bruising ass. And so, with a pathetic, desperate nod, you agree.

You count to ten, thanking him each time with a beautiful sob that makes the bulge in his pants obvious to you. Your lips are swollen, bruised, and sheen with saliva from holding back your louder sobs. Your ass seems to be imprinted with the shape of his hand against your skin, and you tumble off his lap at the final thank you.

There’s slick gathered on your shorts, soaking through the pretty pink fabric turning it dark. 

“I forget that my beautiful baby girl is a masochist,” Shouto sighs as he stands up in front of you. You gasp on the floor, your head swimming with the building heat between your legs, and you hear an all too familiar, always exciting, sound of a belt being undone followed quickly by a zipper and rustling fabric.

“God, you’re so wonderful, doll,” Shouto sighs as he pulls out his hardening cock to where you’re already on your knees with wide, curious, hopeful eyes. “Already on your knees, ready to choke on daddy’s cock even though this is a punishment.”

You can barely register his words, your eyes focused and fascinated — scared almost — of the cock Shouto has. It’s fucking huge, and it’s thick, slightly curved upward with a pretty flushed tip and bulging veins. You were sure if you could even manage to take more than a few inches in!

“I think I remember something about how you don’t like deep throating,” Shouto hums contemplatively. You freeze, your heart stopping for just a moment at what he’s implying. “Well, it’s a good thing this is a punishment.”

His fingers press into your mouth, making you choke, and with your lips spread wide, mouth open for taking, Shouto guides his cock into your parted lips with a dangerous moan. 

There's an immediate ache in your jaw, the size, and girth of his cock overwhelming you without so much doubt. You gag immediately at the weight of it pressing on your tongue, filling your mouth. Heat hammers in your cunt, and you heave against him.

Shouto sighs as if he was in heaven, his hands grabbing the back of your head and slamming your head as far down his cock. So far that your nose brushed against the skin of his stomach, before pressing against it completely. 

Shouto moans louder than your panicked gags and chokes, his hips swirling and twisting as he looks down at you with lovesick eyes. “You’re so good at this,” Shouto praises, his fingers wiping away the tears that prick at your eyes. “So good.  Daddy’s so pleased with you, taking my cock so well. So beautiful even when you cry on my dick.”

Your throat spasms around his cock, your lungs burning severely from the lack of oxygen. Not a single part of your body able to relax as you desperately sought to breathe. It hurt, but it felt so good. Saliva began to pool from the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin and drooling on your clothed breasts.

Shouto took notice and hummed contently.

“Daddy’s going to count to the number ten,” he informed you, rolling his hips further into your mouth, shoving his cock even further down your throat than you thought possible. “If you can keep your pretty nose pressed to daddy’s stomach the entire time, daddy promises you he will give you the best orgasm you’ve ever received.”

You made a squeaking noise around his cock, your fingers that were buried into his shirt gripping tighter as he suddenly lets go of your head.

“One.”

Resisting the urge to pull off him completely was a near-losing battle.

“Two.”

Your body shook with intensity, the scorching need to properly breathe slamming down on you.

“Three… four…”

Shouto’s hands began to pet your head, soothing the worried lines on your face, brushing away your tears.

“Five… six… fuck, you’re so gorgeous, baby girl.”

You whimper around his cock, and Shouto moans liquid gold in return. He smiles deviously, fingers brushing down your throat.

“Seven… eight…” you choke loudly when his fingers press against your throat, tightening your already spasming throat around his cock, furthering the burning sensation all throughout your body. “Nine…”

You look at him with pleading eyes, wordlessly begging for mercy, for something as he pauses for more than a second between nine and ten. His hips lazily jerk into your mouth, his free hand combing his hair back, messily styling it as he smirks. Your saliva was dripping uncontrollably now, pooling at the back of your throat, on your tongue, past your lips. Shouto sighs, his eyes bright with power, with the knowledge that you were so obedient.

“Ten.”

Immediately, you collapse from his cock. Saliva and pre-cum connecting your coughing mouth to his hard dick still. Your lungs ache, and your breathing is frantic as you try to regain a sense of composure. Your tears meaning nothing so long as the inferno between your thighs is tamed. 

“You did so well, baby girl,” Shouto praises, and despite the pain in your lungs, you puff up at the praise. “You did exactly what daddy asked for you, so daddy believes you deserve a reward. Do you agree?”

Unable to speak, your belly tight and warm, and your throat aching slightly, you nod eagerly.

“Use your words, angel,” Shouto coos; he steps out of his pants before squatting before you, his fingers grazing your chin. “Daddy loves it when he hears you speaking.”

“I would love a r-reward, daddy,” you whimper softly. 

Your eyes swim with want, with inexplicable needs and desires. Shouto softens when he notices you nosing into his palms; he brushes a strand of hair out of your face.

“Look at how politely you asked that,” Shouto praises, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth. “Daddy’s so proud of you, sweetheart.”

You keen some more, your wet eyelashes batting in your excitement and undying love for him.

“Now, daddy wants you to go to your room and take off all the clothes you want. Once you’re ready, I want you to call me in, and then daddy will take excellent care of you, okay?” Shouto commands you, his lips pressing softly onto your cheeks, eyelids, and finally softly onto your lips.

You gasp loudly at the touch, your eyes wide but looking incredibly drunk at the touch.

“Okay!” you giggle, pressing forward and taking his lips into another kiss.

He hums before assisting you to your feet, and you breathlessly laugh as you turn around and skip away towards your room. 

Your room is neat, as is required of Shouto. Your bed is neatly organized; there’s nothing on the floor or on your chair. Everything is put away correctly and cleanly. Grinning, you take off your shirt followed by your bra, shimming off your shorts, you toss away your clothes into your hamper, leaving only your socks on.

Hopping onto your bed, you grab a stuffed animal before turning to face the door and sing.

“Daddy, I’m ready!!!”

You squeal after saying that, excitedly staring at the closed door, eagerly anticipating the way Shouto would walk in. Your eyelashes flutter when you see the doorknob twist and in comes Shouto, who, unlike you, is completely naked.

Now you knew he was fit, even with your mind beginning to sink into your little space, you knew that Shouto was a handsome, fine man. He was built, muscular, and toned. He was tall, his head nearly hitting the top of the door if it wasn’t for the fact he was leaning against the doorframe. There is a slight smile on his face that screams of his pride, his joy of seeing you like this. And his eyes rake like hot coals against your body.

You shudder.

“Aren’t you cute,” Shouto murmurs, pride evident in his tone. He walks towards you, tongue slipping between his lips as he reaches the foot of the bed. “Such a beautiful princess, but now… what does princess need?”

“I need my daddy to take care of me,” you whisper, eyes hooded and mouth turning dry as he begins leaning onto the bed. “I want my daddy.”

“Such a dirty girl,” Shouto says with a chuckle as you begin to lean back onto your bed, your legs spreading for him. “Such a dirty, gorgeous girl.”

Your breathing stutters as the bed moves under his weight, and you’re practically panting as you watch his body slowly crawl over yours. Shouto looks down at you, his eyes deceivingly bright even with the shadows, and your eyes flutter as he leans down. 

You’re expecting a kiss, craving the feeling of his smooth, plump lips on yours. But you gasp in shock, betrayal, and in lust when his lips press against your earlobe. He trails his kisses everywhere, kissing every inch, every centimeter of your face, but never once your lips.

“Daddy, stop teasing!!” you whine loudly, feet kicking on the mattress and hands burying into his hair.

“I’m not teasing you,” Shouto objects, but the grin on his face says otherwise. “Why do you think I’m teasing you? What do you want?” 

“I want daddy’s kisses! Give me your kisses!” you cry with a pout.

With a burst of cheerful laughter that warms your heart and makes your belly flip, Shouto presses downward, capturing your lips with his. The contact is blissful, everything and more that you need. You eagerly kiss him back, making noises that are both sinful and so blessedly innocent as your arms wrap around his neck.

Shouto kisses you back with matching intensity, one elbow resting by your head, the other resting on your hip as he allows your tongue to press into his mouth. He lets you greedily take what you want, his thumb on your hip drawing nonsensical pictures. But as you shudder against him, completely overwhelmed by this all. Shouto probes his tongue into your mouth, gliding his wet, hot muscle against the roof of your mouth and the back of your teeth until your panting, unable to do anything but absorb him.

“So pretty, so cute when you’re like this. A beautiful doll for her daddy,” Shouto whispers into your mouth, and you can only moan in response. 

“I need daddy,” you speak, your glazed eyes unable to even look at Shouto. “I need daddy so bad.”

“Where does my princess need me?” Shouto speaks, his lips trailing down your slick chin and neck. “Right here?” he asks, sinking his teeth onto your neck and sucking softly.

“A-Aahhh~,” you shudder, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to place hickey after hickey on your neck, your collarbones, and the spot right behind your ear that makes you melt. “Yes, I need you everywhere… I need daddy’s mouth and cummies in me.”

“Your boobs are so cute, baby girl,” Shouto whispers, and you nearly jump out of your skin when you notice that he’s nosing against your breasts. “So pretty, better than anything I could have hoped for.”

You whine loudly, your body arching off the bed as his hot tongue dips out and licks a pebbled nipple. You pant as he licks again, your fingers burying into his hair.

“Such beautiful nipples, you make your daddy so happy,” Shouto praises, and you gasp loudly as his mouth envelopes your nipple. Your cunt throbs with intriguing want, your socked feet traveling up the line of his leg as his teeth graze and move your nipple in his mouth. “You make me the proudest daddy ever.”

His fingers card down your stomach, trailing and lingering around your cunt, and yet never once touching it. It’s tactical, teasing, and mind spinning. Your clit spasms with needed attention, angry with the teasing, desperate for contact — for attention. You make a noise, something not quite human, unable to pull yourself from your growing fuzzy head as Shouto moves from one nipple to the next.

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Don’t tease me, daddy,” you whisper, hips circling, thrusting into the air where you wish his fingers were.

“Okay,” he promises, and as if he could read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your untouched yet demanding nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest once again feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, warm tongue, and spit sinking into your nerves. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name. And when you thought the teasing couldn’t get worse, his fingers finally land where you want it most.

On your clit.

“You’re perfect, angel; I love you so much.”

It happens then, like a warm blanket being placed over you — comforting, warm, making the pain in your body hum with only pleasure, and your body trembles with peaking need.

“I wanna… I wanna do more,” you coo, eyes heavy and feigning intoxication as you look up at your daddy. “I wanna please my daddy!”

Your daddy blinks at you, head tilting before a knowing look flashes across his eyes, and he smiles softly, fingers abandoning their spots to press gently against your cheeks. You don’t even mind, so excited and happy that he’s holding you.

“What do you want, sunshine?”

“Can I please suck daddy’s nipples?” you ask with a hopeful face, “He made me feel so good, and I — I wanna make my daddy feel good too!”

“You wanna suck daddy’s nipples? Okay.”

You giggle loudly as the world spins, and you gasp when you’re suddenly sitting straight up, your wet cunt pressing against his hip bone. You laugh lightly, a bell-like giggle, and your hands press to his chest. “That was so fun!”

“Was it—?”

Your daddy can’t finish his sentence because you caught sight of his dusty brown nipples and launched forward, capturing the soft tissue in your mouth. 

It tastes like your daddy, the salt and unique taste he has. And your tongue lashes at it, your cheeks hollowing as you suck at it some more. It hardens in your mouth, a sensation that has you breaking away from him with a beautiful gasp.

“Am I doing a good job?!” you ask, looking at the pretty pink flush on your daddy’s face as he heaves slightly, flustered and a bit out of breath. “My nipples do that when you do a job, daddy!”

“You’re doing so well,” your daddy informs you, and you laugh excitedly. “Do you want… do you want daddy’s cock now?” 

“Daddy’s cock?” you question, heat rushing to your face at the naughty word. “W-What does that mean?”

“Daddy’s cock is how I can make you feel good,” daddy explains, his fingers trailing up and down your thighs, playing with the hem of your socks. 

You giggle as he snaps at it playfully.

“You’ve been doing such a good job, sunshine, and daddy’s cock hurts and wants to be in you.”

“In me?”

“Mmhm, and when it’s in you, you can get daddy’s cummies,” daddy smiles softly. “You want daddy’s cummies, remember?”

You think about it, unsure if you had wanted it, but then you remember that you had said it.

“Will daddy’s cummies help me? My stomach feels funny, a-and I feel wet.”

Daddy nods fast, his body shifting so that he’s in a sitting position and your wet chest presses against him. It’s a sensation you’re unfamiliar with, and you make an embarrassing squeaking noise at the feeling.

“I promise it’ll make you feel better, sunshine.”

You think about it some more, your arms wrapping around his neck as you think. But soon enough, you find yourself giggling and nodding, “I trust my daddy!”

“I’m so glad you do. Daddy’s so glad his baby girl trusts him.”

And the next thing you know, you’re back on your back, and your daddy looms over you, spreading your legs wide apart. You look down at gasp at the sight of daddy’s cock.

“It’s so big!” you shriek, “Where is that going, daddy?!”

“This is going right… there,” daddy emphasizes, pressing two fingers into a part of your body that has you speechless. It’s an intrusion you’re almost unfamiliar with, and yet it makes your head spin and your body hot with need and action from him. “I promise it’ll feel so good; I’ll make you feel so good.”

“O-Okay,” you whimper, watching your daddy pull something against the length of his cock before pressing the swollen head to the entrance that made you feel funny in a good way. “I’m ready, daddy.”

“I’m so glad,” your daddy smiles, and with a gentle kiss to your temple, he presses his cock into you.

“DADDY!” you shriek as his cock pressed into you, filling you out and stretching you out completely. The sensation is overwhelming, piercing pleasure slamming through your body as your arms and legs wrap around him in a vice-like grip. 

Daddy’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in close as his hips begin rutting in and out of you. The sensation, the rhythm, is constant and is intoxicating. The creak of the mattress and the loud, grateful cries of your mouth into the crook of his neck fills the room. And then he shifts you just a bit, his hips able to thrust further, more profound, into you, and a wanton, nearly voluptuous noise escapes your mouth. 

“Kiss me, daddy!” you cry, head thrusting back into the mattress, pleasure saturating so deep in your brain you can’t think anymore. “Kiss me, please! Kiss me, kiss me, kissmekissmekiss—”

His mouth is over yours, hot pants and wrecked breathing is passed between open parted lips. Your tongue pushes against his teeth, unable to find his tongue as your hips swirl and thrust up into his thrust cock. Every thrust sends daddy’s cock deeper into your pulling, demanding cunt, stretching you out, sending you further out in an unimaginable way. Your walls spasm uncontrollably, clenching and tightening without a single input. 

But soon, daddy’s shifting up onto his knees, and you can only wildly cry out for him when his arms shift from keeping you close to pressing behind your knees and shoving your knees into the mattress by your shoulders. The most primal, deranged moan rips from your mouth as the stretch sends his cock to a place in your cunt you never could imagine existing. You shake like a child against him, fingers scraping at his back, tearing his skin as your heels dig into his back. The head of his cock buries and brushes against your cervix, making you cry and see colors you’ve never seen before in your life. Your praises for your daddy are endless, and his powerful pounding sends the headboard of your bed crashing against the wall harder and harder.

“How are you feeling, bunny?” Daddy grunts, his face contorted with pleasure and the need to look at you. “Do you feel my cock in you? Can you feel daddy’s cock hitting your cervix?”

“D-Daddy, I-I — ohhh my god!” you sob, your hips pathetically rutting up and down against his cock, stupidly furthering how deep his cock can go, your cervix melting with pleasure, making you oh so dizzy. You can only blabber. “Daddy’s cock is so big, it’s so good! It’s making my stomach feel so funny! I’m so scared!”

“Don’t be scared,” your daddy pleads against your neck, though his speed and strength doesn’t lessen. “Your stomach feeling funny is a good thing; it’s supposed to happen! I promise you, this is how it's supposed to happen. Okay?”

“Okay, daddy, okay, okay, okay,” your voice lessened to a senseless babble. Your sentences blurring together, and your cheek pressed into the mattress, and drool pooled from your lips. 

His pace is completely irreplicable now; every maddening powerful thrust of his hips sends the headboard into the wall. The wet slapping echoing throughout the room when he pierces into you almost drowned out both of your senseless cries. 

It almost scared you, the sensation foreign, but his gentle reminder that this was normal, that you would be okay, kept you from spiraling. Slick erupts in your cunt, an overwhelming heat that throbs right in your core, coating your thighs and your stomach, and with every slam of his hips, it grows only more. 

Intensifying. 

Exhilarating. 

The temperature of your body sizzles off you in immense heat. His lips press against yours, a maddening escape of lust and need exchanging between your parted lips. Your saliva is everywhere, covering both of your faces — connecting them even when you part. But that didn’t stop him; it only fueled him to kiss you entirely, wordlessly praising you, engulfing you with his mouth, daring you with his tongue.

You were barely keeping up with his snapping hips, your mouth begging for more when he suckled on your tongue.

“It’s feeling so funny!” you suddenly cry as your daddy’s fingers pinch and rub against something between your legs that sends electric waves throughout every nerve in your body. “I feel like Imma pee, daddy! I can’t stop it! I can’t stop!”

“It’s okay, let it happen,” your daddy grunts into your ear, and with that, the calming steady of his voice, you let the heat, the tightness in your stomach you feel like is piss, slam through you. 

A tingling, white noise power sensation slams through your entire body. You arch into your daddy, your scream dying on your tongue as your body thumps with a full-body heartbeat. It sends your toes curling, your fingernails scarring his back, and a pathetic, pleasure-derived sob released into your daddy’s sweaty neck. 

His thrusting keeps up for a bit, letting your clenching and relaxing cunt finish him until his thrusts border sloppy, and with a final thrust that has your fingers trembling, he stops, collapsing onto you.

You don’t know what happens next, only that for one moment too long, it’s silent with only heaving breathing and incredibly warm body heat. Your eyes close, and you’re out before you even know it.

.

.

.

You open your eyes to a dark room.

Shouto is next to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he holds a wet, warm cloth to your body, gently cleaning you up.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, your voice scratchy and nearly blown. “Did I drop and pass out after cumming?”

Shouto jumped at your voice, looking up at your face with a tired but satisfied grin, “You did.”

You laugh softly, not quite humorlessly, not entirely because you were amused. You sit up, groaning at how your lower body screams in pain; well, it seemed that your drop really did hide any pain.

“That was fun,” you grin, eyes closing as Shouto presses the cloth to your neck, cleaning the sweat and saliva there. “Glad I decided to speak up on that — ow!”

You pouted as Shouto retreated his pinching fingers from your ribcage.

“You didn’t speak up; you acted out and then spoke up,” Shouto chuckled, sighing as he leaned backward, allowing for you to stretch your tired limbs.

“I still managed to say my truth,” you grin, taking the wet cloth from his hands and focusing on his body. Shouto sat there, still and silent, as you gingerly cleaned… everything off him.

“Well, if we’re saying our truths, can I ask something?” Shouto murmurs, so unlike his typical confident demur. You pause for a moment before nodding, continuing to clean the broken skin on his body. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? I-I know this is cheesy and all, but I feel like I want you outside of our arrangement, outside of the dynamic.”

You can’t help but laugh, making Shouto look panicked, even if for a bit.

“I thought I was the only one.”

.

.

.

“Sero, psst, Sero!” Mina whispers loudly, hitting her friend in the back of the head with an eraser.

“Shit, what?” Sero hisses, a slight annoyance in his face from being hit.

“Look!”

Sero follows Mina’s pointed finger over where you and Shouto sat, in the middle of your own world despite it being smack in the middle of the lecture. He scanned your bodies more intensely and froze at the sight of purple and red bruises on both your necks.

“Is that—?!”

“YES!!!”

“HOLY SHIT! WE CALLED IT!”

“Sero!” boomed the voice of Aizawa, their scariest professor ever. “Is there something you would like to share with the class?”

Sero freezes, an awkward smile blooming on his face as he shrugs, “I’m just noticing some hickies today, that’s all!”

There could have been no casualties in this admittance; after all, Aizawa didn’t give two shits about hickies on university students. But the loud, panicked “shit!” coming from you was undoubtedly damning. 

Shouto snickered, his fingers tugging at the collar of your shirt as his fingers brushed against the collection of bruises, “I think they look nice.”

[bibliosophist]

You may take this as a prompt request if you want to or just me thirsting to you (again)

Picture this:

MC is sitting next to one of the brothers on their bed wearing a top and some shorts, watching a movie together when MC leans into the brother's side and whispers into his ear: "I only want to let you know that I'm not wearing panties right now."

(AND THEN THEY FUCKED)

Sorry it took me a while to get to, I haven't had time to get on tumblr lately. Bc I made you wait I'll do all the brothers. Heads up I’m writing these while I’m pretty tipsy so I hope they all make sense lol

Movie Night + “I’m not wearing any panties” ft. GN MC (NSFW/18+)

Lucifer

You’re watching a documentary that he had imported from the human world. It’s drier than dust- something about politics that would make even The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire seem riveting.

Doesn’t visibly react at all.

Demands you remove your shorts, not taking his eyes off the television.

Once your lower half is bared, orders you to sit in his lap so that your back is against his chest and you have a leg on either side of his body.

Continues to watch the documentary as he fucks you with one hand, the other pressed against your abdomen, keeping your body close to his.

“Be quiet. You don’t want me to have to rewind this, do you?”

Moves his hand from your abdomen to your throat when you continue to moan.

Doesn’t stop until you’ve cum so hard your legs are shaking.

You’re nearing tears from overstimulation by the time the documentary is over. “Have you had enough?” he asks. You can only whimper in response.

“Too bad,” he chuckles as he lowers you on to your back. “You wanted my attention, and now you’ve got it.”

Mammon

Poor boy nearly has a heart attack.

“O-oi! You can’t just go around sayin’ stuff like that!”

You ask him what the problem is with the most innocent look you can muster.

“Waddaya mean what’s the problem?! I have a hard enough time controllin’ myself around ya as it is!”

Once you’ve assured him that you do not, in fact, want him to control himself, it’s like you’re a casino and it’s payday. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to do first. His mouth is on yours but his hands are everywhere.

He just can’t get enough of you and is perfectly content to do everything in his power to give you pleasure- his own is an afterthought.

When you finally manage to get a hand down his pants, you think his head may actually explode.

Once you start begging for his cock he drags you to the edge of the bed, slinging your ankles over his shoulders as he fucks you. He loves watching the faces you make.

Leviathan

You’re laying side by side in his tub watching a movie when you tell him.

He may have momentarily died. You aren’t quite sure.

Is he breathing?

“Levi? Levi!”

“W-why are you telling me that?!”

He absolutely, unequivocally does not believe that you could possibly have any interest in him.

You’re just teasing him, aren’t you? Who would want an icky ot-

Oh my God, what are you doing?

“Levi,” you say as you wrap him up in a hug. “It’s okay. Nothing has to happen unless you want it to.”

He stammers something into your hair. When you lift your head to ask him what he says, he catches your lips with his.

At first it’s a bit sloppy, but the longer you kiss the more confident he becomes.

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. You shiver when you feel his erection pressed against your stomach.

You can actually feel his hands shaking as he holds you against him, so you decide to give him a little encouragement.

“Can I show you how much I want you?” you ask, reaching for the ties of his pants.

He’s an actual human tomato, but he nods vigorously, lifting his hips so you can slide his pants and underwear down his thighs.

He bites on his hand to quiet the sounds he makes as you suck him off.

He slips his fingers in the leg of your shorts and soon you’re the one moaning.

You don’t fuck tonight, but if Levi’s reaction is anything to go by, you’ll have many opportunities in the future.

Satan

In the glow of the TV you can make out the smirk on his face.

Pauses the movie- an adaptation of one of his favourite books- pulling you into his lap before crushing his lips against yours.

Satan has beautiful hands, and he knows how to use them. He quickly has you undressed and begging for him.

He obliges, letting you unzip his trousers and pull his cock free.

One of the best things about Satan? He has a spell for everything. He speaks a few words and instant lubrication.

You shudder as he slides into you, the stretch is mind numbing. He guides you as you bounce on him, moving faster as that sweet fire begins to build.

Digs his fingers into your hips and slams you down the moment he feels you begin to clench around him. Holds you still with his cock deep inside you.

“Satan” you whine, trying desperately to move against him.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he unpauses the movie. “Do you not like being interrupted?”

Makes you warm his cock while he finishes watching. Every time you move, he backs the film up, adding to the length of your punishment.

When it’s over, though? Oh boy. You won’t be walking tomorrow, that’s for sure.

Asmodeus

“Neither am I!”

The movie is promptly forgotten.

He wastes absolutely no time in getting the both of you naked.

Asmo is nothing if not a tease. He spends an eternity kissing, licking, and sucking bruises into every inch of your skin. He’s got you begging by the time he makes it back up to your lips.

But as much as Asmo loves to tease, he loves to be worshipped even more. You aren’t getting anything until he feels properly appreciated.

You tell him how beautiful he is over and over again as you roll your thumb over the head of his cock, spreading precum over his flushed skin.

“Ah, one more time. Say it one more time,” he whines as you suck gently at each of his balls in turn.

It isn’t until you’ve got him biting his lip, a flush spreading up his chest, that he pulls away from you, pushing you onto your back in the middle of the bed.

“I’m so glad you’re here with me,” he whispers as he kneels between your thighs.

You’d better not expect to get any sleep tonight, because the Avatar of Lust wants to make you feel just as beautiful and loved as you make him.

Beelzebub

Beel has a thing for human world cooking competitions, and you brought home a whole collection of them.

Honestly, you’re not sure how much more Chopped you can watch. Food is not at the forefront of your mind when you’ve got Beel in your bed.

When you lean into him and whisper that you aren’t wearing any panties, the focused demon takes a whole thirty seconds to react.

“Wh-what, (Y/N)? I thought you said...” he trails off, turning scarlet.

You look up at him through your lashes, nodding.

Sweet baby stares down at his hands clutched in his lap.

“Can... Would it be okay if I kissed you... there?”

There’s no sidestepping what this boy wants, even if it takes all his courage to ask for it.

Like you’d say no?

Lets you sit on his face while he demonstrates exactly what gluttony means.

Doesn’t stop, even when you nearly pull his hair out as a second orgasm crashes over you. He might be enjoying this just as much as you are.

You grip the headboard with one hand, reaching behind you with the other, wanting to feel his cock, to give him an ounce of the pleasure he’s giving you. You fumble- a lot- but eventually you do manage to get his fly open.

You spit into your hand before pumping it up and down the length of his shaft. He rocks his hips as you move, and even though together the motion is erratic it seems to work just fine for him, because before you know it he’s shuddering under you as he cums all over his chest and your bare ass.

Belphegor

“So?”

Glances over at you with a single raised eyebrow before returning his attention to the movie you’ve been watching.

You know he’s going to make you work for his attention, and you’ve come prepared.

“I just thought I’d let you know,” you say as you recline on your pillows.

He maintains a solid poker face, even as you begin stroking yourself through your shorts.

You catch him sneaking peeks at you out of the corner of his eye.

But you know you have his full attention when you bring lubricant and a vibrator out of your bedside table.

This demon is an absolute slut for toys. Lots of pleasure with very little work? Now you’re speaking his language.

Is happy to sit back and enjoy the show-- until he isn’t.

“That’s enough of that,” he says, snatching the vibrator out of your hand and tossing it out of your reach. “If you’re so desperate to cum, I’ve got something to get you off.”

Now it’s his turn to lay on the pillows as you fuck yourself on his cock.

Waits until you’re mid-orgasm to take over, grabbing handfuls of your ass and bouncing you up and down until you’re seeing stars.

You’ll definitely have bruises tomorrow, but it’s totally worth it.

[a03bkdk]

fantasy bkdk fic rec list

a certain kind of magic by eatdirt

((4590-1/1))

“Forgive me, kind witch! I—I do not wish to disturb you, but I’m afraid it's urgent!"

Katsuki will later blame his bewilderment that anyone—let alone a human boy in filthy rags—would drag themselves all the way out to his home on the outskirts of civilization, for why he stalks down the stairs and cracks open the door.

“Are you a fucking idiot?” he growls.

Or, the one where Katsuki is a witch in a weed-infested swamp and Deku won’t stop coming around.

the shrinekeeper and the harvest god by bkdkwritingsdump

((smut-30148-18/18))

Izuku keeps the shrine of the harvest god, a minor god mostly worshiped by farmers and ignored by everyone else until the yearly harvest festival. During a spring thunderstorm one year, a mysterious man named Katsuki shows up at his shrine seeking shelter from the rain, but ends up over staying his welcome by a few months. In that time, Izuku not only begins to become suspicious of his identity, but finds himself longing for something more between them.

cupid, draw back your bow by almasaga

((i dont remember if there is smut-16496-2/2))

Cupid remembers the oath he took, remembers the broken arrow, remembers the wrath of his mother and goddess, remembers his roots, remembers that he is a god.

But when he hears him he forgets it all.

“Are you there still?” Asks a voice, clear and never wrong. The only voice he wishes to hear.

“Always,” he says and it blows through his beloved.

solar by kindaopps

((smut-7037-1/1))

Here he is, a god, wanting a mortal.

deku by mirachadoodles

((smut-20852-9/9))

Neither seemed willing to look away in the tense silence that fell, drawn to one another as if by a thick and brilliant thread.

The boy viewed him thoughtfully, as though he recognized him from another life, as though he knew him.

It was odd—he felt the same way.

---

Or, shortly after Katsuki's dragon went missing, a naked man attempted to break into his family barn. Izuku had no memory of his past life, and apparently had no idea how to be human, either. He was just acting on instinct.

a cat named deku by  silentsongbird

((6662-1/1))

Bakugou begrudgingly takes in a stray cat that has been hanging around his home. He says he's motivated by the weather turning colder, but he just can't resist the little fur ball. One night, Deku decides to let him in on a little secret.

if the stars align, then for us they were meant by runawaydeviant

((smut-17485-6/6))

Katsuki and Eijirou crash land in a forest to the south of their homeland. Injured and stranded, they befriend a local nature spirit, who is much more than he first appears to be.

soulmates in steel and (p 2)mine is yours by lalazee

((3000-1/1)) (p 2(smut-2509-1/1))

Midoriya Izuku returns to a tribe long lost and forgotten to claim his rightful throne. At least, that's what King Katsuki assumes of him.

(p 2) One large, calloused hand spread sparks down Izuku’s chest, ribs, rested at his lightly bruised hip. Izuku knew fingerprints still remained from last time, and the last, and the time after that. He felt more like a dappled deer now, all those spots smattered across his thighs, ass, hips, wrists. King Katsuki was certainly a man who marked his territory.

but the entrails are the best part! by supercrunch

((15278-1/1))

The boy straightens up. He’s about half a head shorter than Katsuki, face soft and youthful and sweet. He turns to look at him properly. His dark hair shines in the dying light, basket of blooms looped over one arm and mouth quirked into a tiny half-smile. The sun hits his face and makes his eyes a bright greeny-gold, just like emeralds.

Katsuki likes emeralds.

“Pretty,” he says, reaching out and picking the stranger up around the middle. He’s surprisingly heavy, although Katsuki doesn’t mind. “I like you. Come see my nest.”

The boy hits him.

He’s stronger than he looks, turns out. Katsuki drops him and falls onto his back, pain blooming across his face. Birds sing. The sky’s a lovely shade of orange, clouds floating lazily by. The boy scarpers. He leaves his basket of flowers behind, footsteps thumping on the ground and fading away as he escapes.

The sun sets. Katsuki, lying flat on his back with a bloody nose, decides he’s just fallen in love.

happenstance by merrywetherweather

((78566-22/22))

When Katsuki was just a child, his mother, the King of Lucia, took him to enact diplomacy with the Midoriya's, the royal family of the neighboring country of Tayloria. After that day, his fate was sealed, his marriage arranged to the Midoriya's elusive omegan child.

At the age of twenty, he leaves for Tayloria again, this time, to finally wed his fiance and cement the allyship of the two kingdoms indefinitely. Only, his fiance turns out to be the child he had met on his very first visit, a naive, idealistic young prince who wants nothing to do with marrying the prince of Lucia.

Good thing he just assumed Katsuki was only part of his fiance's entourage.

An arranged marriage between two princes aob au where Katsuki tries to abide by Izuku's desire for a natural romance to develop without letting Izuku know his true identity.

plums by Ivillpunchyouinthethroat

((14116-3/3))

There’s a boy stealing plums from the garden below the balcony Katsuki’s lounging at for the night.

Correction.

There’s a boy stealing plums, very badly, from the garden below the balcony Katsuki’s lounging at for the night.

mermaid AU breathe In by contrarybee

((series-smut-3 works-45236 in all))

Midoryia Izuku was born in captivity. He's never known the ocean.

His human carer Yagi-san tells him they're getting a new merman in the aquarium, one that they hope Izuku might like. Having been alone since his mother's death, Izuku is beyond excited to have a new mer around, but Bakugo Katsuki might prove to be too much. Or maybe he's just right.

fishy by warschach

((smut-19417-1/1))

Izuku’s convinced his hot co-worker/neighbor, Katsuki, is a mermaid-or merman- you gotta consider genders even with mythical creatures- and plans to prove it.

(or this is kinda like the show ‘Monster Quest’, except Izuku actually finds said monster, falls in love, and have sexy times.)

home is where the waves crash. by tiredwrites

((4105-1/1))

Izuku thrashes in his cage, the fins that line his large tail flare with a dangerous purpose. The claws his fingers taper into slice through the water and catch the light that filters into the clear water of the aquarium tank he's in.

His gills flare in irritation as he flips around, muscled tail ramming into the three-inch glass barrier with a thundering BAM!

Bioluminescent sacs under clear scales flare and glow, flashing a brilliant toxic green. The team that had brought the merman into the tank watch the mer flail and roar, flexing the powerful jaws that can often unhinge, like a snake.

only the roses know by katyastark

((13193-5/5))

Izuku didn’t want to marry a foreigner. The person he wanted was here… somewhere. He didn’t have a face or a name to ascribe to his admirer. Only roses. For every name day and holiday since he was thirteen, he had received a perfect orange rose. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. The roses never failed to make him feel doted upon. It was their secret, and Izuku cherished it more than anything else in the world. He didn’t want to give that up for some stranger, for an alliance through a loveless marriage.

torn fur, blunt teeth by scribespirare

((smut-43013-17/17))

After eight months of being collared, Izuku is finally free. But a dark, stormy city is no place for a lonely shapeshifter on the run.

ignorance leads to bliss by nikawithspice

((smut-3941-1/1))

A brave wandering adventurer swoops in and saves a beautiful prince from danger, gets dragged to a celebratory bonfire and has a night that he could only have dreamed of!

Or, the one in which Midoriya Izuku accidentally gets married to a Dragon Prince but wouldn't have it any other way.

[lavendermin]

constellation 1 | xiao

pairing | xiao/reader

part of | if all stars fell at once

word count | 1.5k

genre | soft, domestic fluff

It dawned on you as you were out on your usual business— tomorrow was Xiao’s birthday. And as you arrived home that day, the adeptus in question appeared before you.

“It’s just another passing day. There’s no greater significance,” he had casually dismissed it when you brought it up.

You couldn’t help but pout a bit. “But… it would only be us. I know you aren’t one for large gatherings, so— I just thought we could…”

Though you knew he wouldn’t be too keen on the idea, part of you hoped he would still give it a chance. His expression was unreadable, remaining neutral with a slight crease of his brows as he intently watched your shifts in demeanor. Eyes averted towards the ground, fingers anxiously fiddling with the tassel on your amulet, lips drawn into a small pout— you were a little disheartened by his refusal, that much he could tell.

Xiao sighed quietly, loud enough for your eyes to perk up with a newfound glimmer of hope. Gods, he was so weak for you it was almost embarrassing how easily he caved.

“Fine. Just— keep it simple. I only wish to spend it with you,” he relented, arms crossed in feigned admonishment.

The way your face immediately lit up with uncontainable elation had his heart skipping a beat.

“Simple, got it,” you beamed. “Usually for birthdays the gifts you get are surprises but… how about you choose what gift you’d like?”

“A gift I would like…” he repeated quietly to himself, almost as if processing the foreign idea.

Rare was the time he would flat out ask you for something but since you seemed so enthralled by having him partake in this mortal celebration with him, Xiao would indulge you.

You peered at him with hopeful eyes, a small smile patiently waiting for him. If he was avoiding your gaze purposefully, you didn’t bring it up. The teasing could wait, as you found Xiao was sometimes easily embarrassed. Pointing out how cute it was only made him hide his quickly reddening face even quicker, sometimes disappearing into shadowy mist altogether— much to your amusement.

You poked his arm lightly, gaining his attention. “So…?”

“I’ll think about it.”

It was left at that. As the sun finished hiding behind the mountains surrounding Qingce Village, the yaksha also announced his departure. He descended into the busy night ahead of him, working against malevolent forces well past the first hours of his birthday.

He would come back eventually, you hoped. His word was his bond, after all. The moon rose into the sky, dusted by scattered clouds that framed its pale blue glow. It peered at you curiously from your window as you awaited sleep, and kept you wondering what Xiao’s answer would be. Anticipation filled your dreams with sweet nothings that you came to forget in the morning.

Though part of you wasn’t surprised, you were a little disheartened to awake to an empty room. There were a few select mornings where you peered one eye open to find Xiao resting next to you, partially curled up into your form. This wasn’t one of those mornings, though you silently held onto the possibility when the mourning doves began their morning melodies.

In fact, Xiao was nowhere to be seen all afternoon as well. Defending all of Liyue was no easy feat, and so you pushed yourself to continue your day as usual to squash the tiny seed of worry that weighed on your heart. You trusted him to be okay. Though you could call out to him, it somehow sat wrong with you to bother him today of all days.

Perhaps it was the anticipation that increased your worry over the prolonged absence of the adeptus today, despite the fact that he has seen longer periods of not showing up for his own personal reasons. Evening settled into the sky with orange and pink hues, his absence still clear as the sky.

Time inched by rather quickly as you busied yourself with colorful threads and a bit of evening reading to some of the village children as they waited for their parents to return from work at the harbor. You ran a bath to keep you occupied once settled back in the comforts of home, indulging in the calming aroma of the flowers and bath essences you always neglected to use. The cool of night was subtly falling into place as you let the warmth of the healing waters wash away the week’s lingering stresses.

Still, as you soaked surrounded by therapeutic aromas and warm vapors, the quiet patter of droplets cascading off the hand that gathered delicate petals did little to comfort you. Their melodic ripples breaking the surface echoed off the walls of the bathroom in a comfortless song. It became increasingly hard to ignore the absence of the reserved adeptus.

Your person.

It was only an hour until midnight. The gentle feeling of a foreign object placed in your hair subtly startled you as you entered your room.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Xiao apologized, a small smile softening his usual serious expression. “Something kept me busy.”

You were quick to melt into mirthful laughter, fingertips brushing the familiar object that now decorated your hair.

“Crystalflies?”

There was a light pink that dusted his cheekbones, but he continued adorning your hair with the subtly glowing cores. It was unexpectedly romantic of him and had your chest tight with overbearing fondness.

His voice was laced with uncertainty— a tone he took on when he was unsure if he was conveying his affection properly. “I thought they would look nice on you.”

The breathy laugh you let out as he placed a small pile of extra cores into your hand reassured him that the feelings got across.

“Is that what kept you busy?” you asked teasingly, voice melodic and light with endearment. “Crystalfly catching?”

He fell silent, momentarily flustered as he turned his gaze elsewhere.

“...Yes.”

Not a lie, but not the truth in its entirety. However, the adeptus chose to not tell you that he had just spent the better half of the day building up the courage to approach you about the gift he decided upon. Even now his heart was still hammering harshly in his chest. No, he would take that knowledge to his grave.

“I decided on the gift already. The one you told me to choose,” Xiao added, his amber eyes shifting back to you.

You hummed, sitting on the edge of your bed after tucking the precious cores away in a desk drawer. “Mhm, so what did you choose?”

Instead of answering you right away, he leaned down to rest his head on your shoulder, his arms on either side of you supporting most of his weight. Confused, you rubbed your hand soothingly on his back.

“Everything alright?” you asked tentatively when you were met with no response.

There was a muffled reply you couldn’t understand. You ran your fingers through his hair, coaxing him to lift his face to meet your eyes. And slowly but surely, he did. The heat was high on his cheekbones, his golden irises glowing subtly under the warm light of your lamp.

“...Kiss.”

“Kiss?”

He nodded, and you couldn’t help the wide grin on your face as your heart burst with newfound endearment. You were more than happy to oblige, cupping his face in both hands to press tender kisses to his forehead, his nose, and both his rose-dusted cheeks.

But he wasn’t satisfied.

Xiao‘s face was warm with impatience and the overwhelming emotions that drummed in his chest. He let out a quick exasperated huff, “No—This.”

The way his lips were fervently on yours without a moment’s hesitation left you winded, unable to ask anything further as his actions resonated clearly. This was needy, insistent— like an insatiable hunger to have you melted against him. Your taste, the feeling of your soft, plush lips against his, the cute little whines that he was quick to swallow— it all had Xiao’s mind in a dizzied state.

He pulled away, mind in a haze as you both were left panting during the brief pause, a thin string of saliva connecting you both briefly. There was a bright red that dusted your cheeks and he drank in your appearance. Your lips were a little swollen from his relentless nibbling and tugging, chest rising and falling as you caught your breath, eyes a little stunned yet shining with a love-drunk glimmer— he wanted to burn it into his memory.

“Again.”

You half-laughed in disbelief, “Again?”

With a quick nod, he wasted no time in finding comfort back on your lips. It was a little slower-paced now, the yaksha regaining some control over himself to timidly explore and prod within your mouth. He drank in all your quiet moans and silent gasps, gloved hand moving to tangle into your hair.

Over and over again he worshipped you with kisses peppered all over your face, your neck, your shoulders. This went on well past midnight, Xiao’s golden eyes glowing with adoration. And when he looked at you the way he did, with such ardent devotion, you just couldn’t help but indulge him.

Who were you to refuse?

[wri0thesley]

hi nat!! i noticed requests were open and remembered “randomlyncrying during/after sex” angst being mentioned and i just👀😳🙏

ive had personal experience with that (mostly bc being vulnerable and intimate is scary yet cathartic for me, its not even necessarily sad crying or happy crying its just Strong Emotions) and i was wondering if u could do some like smut to hurt/comfort kinda with that specific scenario please🤭 maybe with risotto or abba bc i just want to be fucked AND comforted by a big strong goth man!!😩🙏

overwhelming - risotto x reader (2k)

warnings: crying during sex. afab reader. neutral pronouns. 

Everything about Risotto is overwhelming. The way he looks at you; the colours of his eyes. The low, gravel voice – the way he speaks only when he thinks he has something worth hearing. The touch of his hot, large hands on your skin – his width, his height, the knowledge of what he could do to you--

It’s even more overwhelming when you are beneath him in bed.

His body caging yours; the scarred, muscled chest and how it seems to heave in and out as he breathes. The scent of him – leather and iron and smoke – wrapping all around you, until he is everywhere. In your nose, in your mouth, his face flashing across your head as you pull him down into another kiss and he worries at your bottom lip, insistent and hot and needy.

Big hands run all over your form; taking his time to enjoy the way you feel, the curves and divots of your figure, the softness of you beneath his own calloused, work-weary hands. You feel like you fit into his grip perfectly – like you were made for him. You inhale sharply as his hands spread your legs apart, exposing the heated, slick valley of your sex to the warm air of the bedroom.

It always seems to be warm when Risotto is around. He kicks out heat merely by existing; and you cling to him in bed for it, grateful to be reminded of his presence.

“You’re so beautiful,” he dips his head to murmur, his voice deep and dark. Whenever he speaks, you feel a rush of desire go through you to pool at the apex of your thighs; there is something about the sonorous bass of his voice that makes your toes curl and that echoes through you, making you feel as though you are the only person in the world. “Look at yourself, tesoro.”

You do not see what he sees – but you do see the worship in his eyes. The hunger as he presses your legs further apart and leans into you, as you feel his hard cock press against your thigh insistently.

He is a careful man, despite his profession, and he knows that what he has between his thighs is too much for many people. He never sheaths himself inside of you straight away; even now, when you are fair pooling slick on his already messy sheets, one of his big hands is cupping your mound.

Calloused thumb rubbing over your clit, coaxing heat and sighs and little rocks of your hips. One large, lone finger – sliding inside of you, rubbing against your walls with the practise of a man who knows your body as intimately as he knows his own. Your head rolls back and you display your neck for him; vulnerable, and needy, and utterly his. He does not leave your neck unmarked – his lips are on you in moments, sucking love-bites, nipping bruises, his finger still pumping in and out of you.

Two fingers. You tangle your own grip into his silvery pale hair and pull his mouth to yours so that you may kiss him – he tastes like iron, always. You do not find it unpleasant; blood is a taste that you have grown to appreciate, because it reminds you of him. Three fingers, and you hear the wet squelch of your arousal, feel it dripping out of you with every rock of his hand. His thumb has stopped teasing your clit, but the rough heel of his hand is now continuing the onslaught of pleasure. With every thrust, it rubs against the swollen bud, and you feel your stomach begin to tie itself in knots.

He pulls them out of you with a slick gush, the hand formerly buried inside of you coming to lift your leg so he can slot his hips in between you. His fingers are dripping wet, but he has eyes for nothing but you beneath him. Rose-red irises meet your own, as if to ask you; ‘is this alright? Do you need me to stop?’

For an assassin – for a man feared around Italy, though they do not know his name – Risotto is never anything but gentlemanly with you. He asks your permission, holds you afterwards, kisses you and soothes you and murmurs your name filled with affection even when you are around the other members of your team.

“Special treatment,” some of them huff, rolling their eyes – but they shoot you sly smirks. They do not begrudge their capo his happiness – not in such a business as theirs.

“Risotto,” you breathe, looking up at him. “Please—”

The please is enough. Your other leg is lifted gently, hitched up so he can press your knees to your chest. You’ve had to experiment with positions plenty, in order to find things that are comfortable with Risotto’s height and his size and your own limitations – but this one always makes him seem to hit you deeper, further. His cock head pushes against the tight ring of your entrance, catching on you--

And his eyes meet yours as he begins to press himself inside of you. There is so much tenderness contained within them that you are almost lost for words. You would not think that eyes like that could make you feel so utterly adored – when you had first met Risotto, they had filled you with fear. Now, though, you look at them and you see all of the things that Risotto is too afraid to say out loud, contained within their multitudes.

He’s slow as he hilts himself, letting you feel the stretch of your walls around him. He’s always slow with you – like he’s afraid you will break. People who see him out and about, you know, never imagine how careful or tender he is.

Your head tips back again, into the pillow, as you see stars. He always fills you up. It’s indescribable, how right that he feels inside of you. You feel like he was made to slot inside of you – every time this happens, you don’t feel quite right until his heavy balls slap against your sex and he has bottomed out, filled you up, and the two of you are as connected as it is possible for two human beings to be.

Your breath catches as he pulls out, as he seeks to find a rhythm that works for both of you. In this position, you cannot quite get purchase on his shoulders – but Risotto sees to that himself, his big hands entangling and entwining with your fingers to press your held hands either side of your head.

The position is intimate, his eyes staying glued to yours even as he slips into a rhythm. His face is softer than you usually see it as he looks down at you; his sculpted lips tilted at the corners in a way that makes your breath feel like it doesn’t fit properly in your lungs.

You adore him so much.

Everything about him makes you feel like you are free-falling through a summer sky. You are, you’re sure, not supposed to be so deliriously happy with anybody, when you’re in a career such as your own. You should not be allowed to love him so freely and deeply – but the world has said you are. The world has dropped Risotto Nero into your lap in all of his occasionally awkward, stoic, handsome glory.

His hips flex in and out. He slides easily, through the slick glide of your sex – stoking up hunger and need, the tight little ball of tension inside of you that signifies your release. You hear the sound of him fucking you, the slap of him bottoming out, and you lose yourself entirely in the sensation of Risotto filling you up.

The world seems to fade into nothing but the place where the two of you are joined; nothing else important, aside from Risotto inside of and above you, his breath unsteady in his chest. The heat that’s gathering low in your belly, as he chases your release along with his own--

After his earlier ministrations, it’s no wonder that yours creeps up on you faster. Your ball of tension is the first one to take too much pressure, to be unable to do anything but explode into pieces – and it does so in a great rush that has you wailing, your mouth opening, as your mind seems to blank out into nothingness at the same time as every feeling in the entire world seems to hit you all in one go.

You’re crying?

You’re sobbing.

Your shoulders are shaking, your lip wobbling, your throat so dry that you can barely gasp air as it feels as though every emotion that you have ever experienced seems to come around to visit you again, the feeling entirely overwhelming. You can’t think. You can’t breathe--

Risotto’s eyes are wide and full of concern, blood and ink gone to uneasiness that this is all his fault. Your eyes are blurry with tears, but you see him open his mouth to speak nonetheless.

“Hey, hey--” his voice is quiet, through the haze of your tears, his hips stilling inside of you. “Tesoro, amore, cara mia--”

The pet names just make your bubbling sob get worse; your breath short. You don’t know what it is! You’re not upset, you’re not angry, you’re not even so happy that you can’t help yourself.

You’re just feeling so, so, so much.

“Risotto,” you breathe out, hiccuping, and your legs are gently dropped from your chest. “Risotto, I’m--”

“Please tell me if something’s wrong,” he murmurs, low and dark. “I’ll stop, I’ll do anything--”

“N-no,” you shake your head, aware that he is still buried inside of you – that your tears are stopping him reaching his full completion. “I-it’s not that—”

He pulls out, carefully, and you miss the feel of him inside of you like a physical ache, even though he is still on top of you. He reaches down and kisses your cheeks, chasing the tears away. A half-laugh bubbles up through the heaving of your chest and the tears clogging up your throat.

“Please tell me,” he repeats, again, all concern. His hands are still entangled with yours, as he leans down and puts his face very close to yours. If you stretched forward, just a little, you could rub your noses together, and the thought makes you smile despite yourself and despite the tear-tracks still drying on your face. “Amore, I promise I won’t be angry at you--”

“It’s just-- s-so much--” You say, eventually – lost for words, because how does one explain quite why they started crying with no real reason to? It had simply felt like everything had washed over you in one go, and your heart had not been able to handle it. Something about your orgasm had pushed forth all of your feelings, whether good or bad, and they had scrambled inside of your chest until all you could do was let tears roll down your face.

“I’m here,” he says, soft and slow. He lets go of your hands. Large arms wrap around you, pulling you up so you’re pressed against the broad expanse of your chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He’s so warm. Your cheek rests against him; hard muscle and scar tissue. You can hear the beating of his heart, and in the end it’s that – steady, constant, true – that makes the tears finally stop leaking down your face. Your breath calms.

A big hand comes up to stroke through your hair, reassuring.

“I’m always here for you,” he says. “Forever. Through anything.”

“I love you,” you say, all in a rush. You two avoid it; it’s hard to deal with constants when you’re in a business like Passione. ‘I love you’ is not in the vernacular of an assassin – but neither is ‘forever’, and Risotto had said it to you as casually as breathing--

“I love you too,” Risotto says. His voice does not quaver. He is certain and sure; as strong as the arms around you, the chest you’re pressed to, as strong as his convictions always are. He means it.

And you are so, so very glad that he does.

[neovisioned]

♡ꜜ profane﹫jaehyun jung

profane - ashe vernon

pairing : jaehyun x reader (f)

genre : smut with little plot, fallen angel!jaehyun, best friends to lovers. 

warnings : actual filth, dry humping, passionate eating out, penetration (unprotected, be safe), body worship, slight begging and corruption, overstimulation, jaehyun’s wings are sensitive, creampie. 

word count : 3k exactly.

synopsis : fallen angel Jaehyun confesses to the one who saved him the night he fell from heaven five years ago, he shows you exactly how much he meant his words when he called you holy or : “ God, if you’re out there, if you’re listening, he fucks like a seraphim,”

“The first time he calls you holy, you laugh it back so hard your sides hurt.”

Jaehyun never even tried to hide his awe for your beauty, since the day of his fall. From the night you found him in the middle of the street, right after a rainy summer day, he never did. You were in your last year of high school, a teenager finding a bloodied, half clothed man on the hard concrete. You thought you were hallucinating, victim of one big, elaborated prank. You remember observing him for minutes, until he turned his scared face towards the noise of your boots cracking a dead branch. Oh, his face. Even in pain, even crying from the damnation he just faced, he looked ethereal. Correction, he was ethereal. A fallen angel, lost in this cruel, cruel world. Bloodied wings, sculpted body draped with a white sheet, trembling chestnut eyes. Big, white wings wrapped around himself in an attempt to protect his remaining dignity. Your heart dropped when he planted his eyes in yours. Jaehyun wondered if you were an angel of death here to finish the job, he never knew they were this pretty. Jaehyun remembers asking himself if he felt right to another kind of heaven he didn’t know about when you walked carefully towards him, pale moonlight enlightening your worried features. The first human face he’d see and yet, he'd bet you were crafted in his late home.

“You’re divine.”, was the first thing the fallen angel had told you. Ah, how he managed to get you even more intrigued with three words. You recall him not backing away from you when you kneeled in front of the man, offering a hand. He looked the same age, a deer caught in the bright lights of a truck. You’d hate yourself for leaving him here.

The red tint on his soft feathers stay imprinted in your mind, even after five years.

You never thought you’d be one to take an angel under your wing. But here you were, helping the fallen learn about life on the blue planet, one he never thought he’d live on himself. After all, the brunette never even formed the idea before, being dropped out of heaven was never on option for God’s old favorite. Years, and Jaehyun never stopped being dazed by your features. You even wondered where he’d get his compliments, always sounding like an old poet gushing over his best muse. Lovely, charming, delightful, ravishing, gorgeous, heavenly, stunning, artistic, magnificent. The list goes on. You quickly wondered if he wasn’t going too far, if he wasn’t too attached after you saved him, mind twisted by an illusion he created for himself. He saw what you couldn’t see in you. Words you never heard any man call another woman before, they all have the same effect on you. The feeling of heat pooling to your cheeks gets too familiar when you’re with Jaehyun. It’s to a point where his name only manages to burn your skin. However, the day the now almost normal man calls you “holy”, you don’t know how to react. His head rests on your stomach, strong arms wrapped around your body. You remember how frail they looked the night you met him. No matter the time flying by, the people he met, the number throwing themselves at him, Jaehyun never stopped looking at you like you held stars in your irises. Puppy dog eyes for what you then think is just equal, a puppy love.   “You’re holy.”, he had breathed against your skin, a small smile blooming on his face at your reaction. The weight of his head on you makes it heard to laugh and hard to breath properly, your sides hurt as you giggle in an attempt to brush it off. Thankfully, Jaehyun’s used to your off reactions to his words. He might even like it a bit too much. Even, it takes years for you to understand that Jaehyun’s isn’t just victim of a dumb infatuation. He means every word he says, he knows more than anyone else the meaning behind them all. It’s quite ironic. You think Jaehyun’s the one who needs to open his eyes but, when you do, you understand something bigger. Jaehyun isn’t as innocent as you thought he was. The ability to hide his wings and your presence guiding him had him walking on his Earth like any other human being, slowly becoming like every other young man of his age.

“The second time, you moan gospel around his fingers between your teeth. He has always surprised you into surprising yourself.”

The second time he calls you “holy”, your reaction is much, much different from any other. The slight salty taste of his fingertips lingers on your tongue, pink muscle lazily lapping against his skin. The fallen angel has two digits resting there, thumb lovingly stroking the skin of your check. Coating them with saliva, the muscle drags between ever so slowly. Hungry eyes catch every one of your reactions, drinking in the smallest of sighs and broken bat of the eyelashes for memories to cherish. It seems every important turn in your relationship with the fallen angel happens in summer, he even told you about how it was his favorite out of the four seasons. An anniversary of your meeting with the brunette turns confession of shared feelings between an improvised meal. He grew. He grew so much all thanks to you and yet, there he is. Body towering over you, using his power against you, the dynamic shifted long ago. His hips fits perfectly between your thighs, the blue jeans he’s wearing aren’t doing anything to hide his hardening member, longing to be touched. You wonder where he learned all of this, when he learned all of this. His hips roll against your clothed core in the most heavily way, it’s slow and hard, intentions clear. “You’re holy, doll.”, Jaehyun breathes again, watching your cheek heat up, your eyes roll back. You never heard this voice before, it dips lower, stained by years of want. “Crafted by the highest.” You moan around his fingers, teeth grazing over the tender skin. Jaehyun was never afraid to push you out of your comfort zone, there he was doing it again. You never thought you’d let your beloved angel sin with your help.

“Because he’s an angel hiding his halo behind his back and nothing has ever felt so filthy as plucking the wings from his shoulders - undressing his softness one feather at a time.”

Oh, how well he hides his halo. There’s no light in his eyes, no light in his voice when he asks you to undress. You wonder if he still has some powers with how easily you bend to his order, underwear adoring your skin. His jeans follow close behind. He got bigger with years, stronger, confident. One thing he doesn’t get rid of, his wings. He could, he could hide them like he does every day now, but he know how much they affect you. You’ve told him many times, never ran more than a light and careful hands on the majestic wings. Pure, white feathers create the perfect cocoon between your tangled bodies like he wants you to himself and him only. You don’t think he ever lost one single feather, never losing their pristine with time.

His hips never stop rolling against yours, now fully hard cock rubbing against your damp underwear. His grey boxers aren’t doing anything to hide his member anymore, one that makes your mouth water, eyes blow in need. One hand travels from his arm to the soft feather of his wing, bold fingers softly gazing over the small spaces between his plumes.

The surprised moan that tumbles from his lips takes your breath away, such a simple gesture that makes him keen under your touch. “Fuck.”, how can a curse sound so pure ? His finger leave your mouth to grip the pillow right next to your head. “Do that again.”

“God, if you’re out there, if you’re listening, he fucks like a seraphim, and there’s no part of scripture that ever prepared you for his hands. Hand that map a communion in the cradle of your hips.”

“Shit, Jaehyun.” Nothing would have prepared you for the way his hips start moving to a faster pace. He has you moaning a bouquet of curses against his lips, hips bucking up against his. You know Jaehyun learns quickly, you see it when you tell him just how you like it and he obliges happily, hips rolling harder, and harder. The dark spot on his boxers’ a dead giveaway of your arousal building up, and up. His hands start wondering up your body, shamelessly sneaking under your bra. He maps your curves, learns by heart about the holy temple of your envelope. “Feels good ?” Another hand tightly grips your hip, fingers digging at your flesh, sure to leave small bruises there. He pushes your pelvis down against his mattress, until you aren’t able to create friction from your own. The fallen angel brings you to the border in minutes, he builds your orgasm up until you’re breathing against his bruised lips. He makes you jump with him and makes sure he has you all along, he holds you close when you ruin your underwear. Your orgasm blinds you for milliseconds, you probably moan too loudly for your neighbors but, right here and right now, it’s him. Jaehyun might come the very moment his name rolls out of your tongue, the prettiest prayer he ever had the chance to hear and, it was for him, him only.

“Hands that kiss hymns up your sides. He confesses how long he’s looked for a place to worship and, oh,”

“’ve been waiting for so long.”, the brunette confesses against the skin of your stomach. He places soft kisses there, like he wants you to see how much he worships your body. “Thought you’d never let me have a taste.”. There is the slightest bit of amusement in his voice when he kisses along the line of your ruined panties, a single digit teasingly running up and down your lips. He makes you shiver, sigh his name out and say his name in vain. You’d almost beg him to do it already, taste you already.

“Jaehyun, I-.”, you’d almost beg him, and oh.

Pink tongue boldly dips in your core, through the wet fabric. He hums at the slight taste of your arousal, like he cannot believe he’s finally there. His red lips form an -o where he knows your bud of never is, lightly sucking there. Where the fuck did he learn all of this. Oh, the sweet angel will be the death of you if you aren’t his.

“you put him on his knees. When he sinks to the floor and moans like he can’t help himself, you wonder if the other angels feel so sweet.”

Long gone are the years of blindness, years of pushing feelings away out of fear. A hand rests on his shoulder and you push him to his knees, he obliges easily under your touch. Knees to the floor, his knees hit the cold wood of his bedroom. Digits finally wrap around the fabric of your panties and finally. Finally, you reveal yourself to the fallen angel. Transparent fluid stick to your lips and the ruined piece of clothing, Jaehyun moans to himself like he’s been touched by grace.

Glittering eyes look up to you for reassurance and, when he has it, he doesn’t hesitate. Pushing your thighs apart, his eyes stay on your core like the finest of paintings, placing your legs on his strong shoulders. He waited and wanted too long to make the teasing last longer and, much like he did through the piece of fabric, his pink tongue drags up your slit. He collects every drop your give him in the dip of his muscle, he hums at the taste and goes for more. The tip digs between your lips and laps like he’s drinking the rarest of wines, like he’s drinking from the grail itself.

“Taste so fucking good.”, he hums to himself, lips shining with your own arousal. “Can’t get enough.”

You wonder if all angels are so good with their tongues, or maybe it’s the added effect Jaehyun has on you. He brings you to the clouds in what you feel like is seconds.

“He says his prayers between your thighs and you dig your heels into the base of his spine until he blushes the color of your filthy tongue. You will ruin him and he will thank you; he will say please.”

The words he mumbles against your core are foreign to you, your dazed, blurred mind doesn’t quite catch the meaning behind his sounds. However, his deep voice vibrates against your lips. It’s so much, too much. You’re almost too sensitive already from the first orgasm he got out of you. Your body reacts by itself when he lets his muscle explore between your lips a little more, a sigh tumbling from your lips. Your thighs close around his head until your heels dig between his wings, it makes the man moan and break away from your core. Your hand can only anchor itself between his brown locks, slightly tugging at his hair.

He’s breathless, a deep pink dust on his cheeks and chest alongside a thin sheet of sweat. Jaehyun looks so innocent and yet, so filthy, corrupted. When his lips methodically wraps around your button of nerves, you know you’re done for. “Jaehyun, Jae-. ‘m so close, gonna come.”, you warn, words turning incoherent at some point. Ah, Jaehyun loves the way your voice breaks for him, direct result of his actions. It fills his chest with pride and makes his wings bat the slightest bit around him.

“Please.”, he begs, and you have to look down at him to register the word. “Please Y/N, come on my tongue.”, he says again, fingers wrapping around your thighs. How can you say no to such plea ? Jaehyun might be the happiest fallen angel when he feels your thighs shaking around him, tightening around his head as you come for the second time that night. You might black out, the ringing in your ears doesn’t stop you from hearing the brunette’s greedy tongue lapping at your core, small kisses on your thighs. “Thank you.”

“No damnation ever looked as cozy as this, but you fit over his hips like they were made for you. You fit, you fit, you fit. On top of him, you are an ancient god that only he remembers and he offers up his skin. And you take it. Who knew sacrifice was so profane ?”

Fucked out, yet there’s no way you’re going to let Jaehyun like this. Your legs threaten to give out under your body when you sit on the fallen angel’s lap. Your abused core tightens around the head of his length, the slight pain of the stretch adds to the stained moan you let out against Jaehyun’s neck. He fits and he’s no one moaning about how you were made for him. Long gone are the pleas to make you come when he groans and growls about your tight cunt.

You take him, you take him entirely with a whine and fully sit on his thighs. You don’t think you ever felt so full in your entire life, you don’t think you ever felt this way before. His wings wrap around your bodies again, it seems like an old habit. He creates a world for you to rule in, he lets you take control and set the pace.

His moans are for your ears only when you finally start moving up, and down. Up, and down. Jaehyun’s arms wrap tightly around your waist, bringing your body impossibly close to his. His chest crashes against your own, lips bruising yours for the nth time that night. You fit, he won’t let you go. He fits, you grip around him. Jaehyun might just think you look like a goddess at this very moment, skin glowing under the light, wrapped around him, wrapped in him. He wonders if you aren’t just that, a goddess erased from the books, a goddess too powerful and threatening. Jaehyun might just think you’re Lilith. His head rolls back against the headboard of his bed, he unknowingly presents the skin of his pale neck and you take it. You take him, you mark him as yours. Red and purple petals bloom on his chest, marks he'd proudly parade.

“And once you’ve taught him how to hold your throat in one hand and your heart in the other, you will have forgotten every other word, except his name.”

The way his pupils grow wider the moment you bring his hand to your throat is almost comical. You teach him how to use his fingers and press on your neck, cut your breathing just the right way. Just enough to have you desperately clenching around his cock.

“I love you.”, you finally confess to him that night, words he thought he’d never hear at some point. There, the fallen angel has you in the palm of his hand, heartbeat pumping against his fingertips. There, Jaehyun gets his revenge on heaven. When he starts fucking up, sending your body crashing against his own, limp, he might fuck you even harder then. There, in the dead of the night, years after meeting him on the dot, his name is the only thing tumbling from his lips. Oh, what a pleasure to bring a goddess to this state, fucked out and babbling, shamelessly letting herself being used and filled. The fallen angel never thought he’d feed off someone’s tears but, when he hears you cry out for the third time that night, tear rolling down his neck, he comes.

© NEOVISIONED l NO REPOSTING OR TRANSLATIONS ALLOWED.