#they’re both hot why are we pitting them against each other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

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split

— Shouto becomes victim of a quirk accident. In that he become two people who get along as well as fire and ice do. They clash at every moment, and only seem to agree on one thing: their love for you. Or in which Shouto gets split into two by a quirk that spilts chimeras and in order for peace to be found you find yourself in a threesome with two halves that make the one you love most.

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pairing: split!todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, threesome, split!shouto, anal, double penetration, blowjob, rimming, cunnilingus, cursing, degradation, praise

word count: 8,930

a/n: LMAOOOOOO this waas actually fun to write the names I gave them were super easy because I am uncreative. I used an anons rec for shoutos hero name: reisho so that’s what that is. and thank you to my lovely canasian for finding the original drabble I wrote. pls enjoy!

kinktober day 6 main kink: threesome

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“What’s going on?”

It was a series of words that often came out of your mouth because, as a Pro Hero, there were many times where you had no idea what was going on. It usually ranged from asking why Kaminari and Kirishima were giggling and avoiding your gaze when you walked into a room to coming onto an active battle where Bakugou and Midoriya were bloodied and crazed. There was nothing off-limits to those words, as they were, after all, said in complete confusion.

“Where is he?!” you tried again, watching as nineteen different eyes look everywhere but at you.

However, it was without given when you watched your twenty -- wait, was that twenty-one? -- former classmates both stumble into one another as they turn to face you.

“Y/l/n-chan!” Mina squeaked, stepping up from the crowd, trying to cover up the two people in there that you couldn’t quite recognize as your classmates. “How was patrol? I heard that Todoroki-kun left you midway!”

You wished that last comment didn’t make your cheeks burn as intensely as it did.

Today had been one of the rare days that you had gone off on your route with your boyfriend, Todoroki Shouto. Both of you watched the busy streets and whispering between yourself as you avoided the masses, not wanting to get caught up with fan interactions that were rather unneeded. But there had been a large altercation that required Shouto’s expertise. Specifically, the voice at headquarters commanded that you stay on patrol while Shouto would leave. So you had watched as Shouto placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb softly petting your cheek, his smile warm.

“I’ll be back,” he had promised before taking off in a mist of ice and fire.

You continued the rest of your patrol with a rather childish pout on your face, you hadn’t enjoyed being sidelined like this, but you calmly assessed the situation. It probably wasn’t a fight you would be much aid in, and there was never a reason to send more than enough heroes onto a single area. But your route was coming to an end, and Shouto had still yet to reappear. Trying not to overthink it, you frowned while passing a store with TVs out in front.

Staring at the bright, flashing screen, you suddenly felt a sense of panic at the headliner: Chimera Quirk-Wielding Villain Apprehended by Pro Heroes Froppy, Pinky, and Reisho. (slight injuries on the hero team.)

With concern pitting up horribly in your stomach for your friends and boyfriend, you finished your assignment as calmly as you could, before finally getting to rush back to your agency. You had taken to the rooftops to get there as quickly as you could.

Through all that, you found yourself right where you had been in the beginning, staring at Mina, who despite the few scrapes of dirt and soot on your costume, looked normal. Your eyes glanced over at Tsuyu, who, like Mina, was unharmed -- which left Shouto.

“Something strange happened during that battle,” Momo spoke up, her face set with concern, her eyes, although not horrified, was definitely a bit at a loss for an explanation.

“Wha--?”

“The person we fought against could make chimera’s out of people, but the limits of their quirk meant that once they made a chimera, they couldn’t add more to the creation,” Mina explained, her head nodding as she looked from Momo to you. Her fingers were tugging at her pink curls, and you tilted your head.

“Is Shouto still smashed together with someone or something?” you asked, a bit hesitant to see what potentially horrific creation your boyfriend could have turned into. “I’ve seen Shouto show up home after the poop-villain fiasco, I swear I won’t cry if he’s ugly!”

“Well, no, kero,” Tsuyu frowned, her finger pressing to her lower lip as she tilted her head. “Mina-chan and I were a chimera for a bit, and the quirk has a limit when they make a chimera.”

You didn’t like how that was worded.

“Just fucking show her the idiots who threw the match!” Bakugou snapped, his eyebrows furrowed as he shoved the crowd away in the middle, parting them like Moses did the red sea.

Idiots? You thought, your confused expression growing as you looked from Bakugou’s frowning face onto what they had been hiding from you.

And you instantly understood why when you were greeted with two heads. One entirely redheaded, the other entirely white-haired, each with identical faces who looked at you with the same tone to their eyes.

“You see, their quirk can also separate chimera’s, and well… I — we, guess that Todoroki-san is one,” Momo informed you as you stared at opposite replicates of your loving boyfriend. “The villain said they’ve never split a natural-born human chimera before, it had been their first time, so the lasting effects of the quirk are unknown.”

The redheaded Shouto still sported a scar on his face, but he felt completely different. His face was cold, stare distant, and burning with a suppressed, denied fury that you couldn’t recognize on him outside of a battlefield. But even with the cold look encompassing his body and stature like a thick sheet of ice, when he looked at you with his set of two burning turquoise eyes, you knew his feelings for you were still the same.

The white-haired Shouto had no scar, and he looked much closer to the man you knew currently, except maybe a bit more open? His face quipped into a smile, his eyes swimming with mirth, joy, and content with finally seeing you here, all good emotions but emotions you weren’t used to him exposing to the public like this. But even with the warm, loving look burning softly around him, his set of grey eyes shone with feelings you knew were true.

“My boyfriend is split into two?!”

There was something wrong with that sentence, something that carried heat because the moment you said those words, both Shouto’s seemed to freeze next to each other. Icy and fiery glares meeting in an electric firestorm as Deku promptly dragged you out of the room with Momo and Mina. You struggled against Deku’s iron grip, only seeing white-haired Shouto’s jaw drop in the beginnings of a speech while redheaded Shouto glowered at him with all the intensity he could muster.

“Y/l/n-san, we need you to never, ever mention that they’re the same person,” Deku immediately spoke as soon as the door between the hallway and the room where the Shouto’s were closed. “He’s — they’re — not handling that information very well, and are acting rather… immature about who the real ‘Todoroki-kun’ is.”

“They’re not connected by the same mind?!” you spluttered, your own mind feeling like it was split down the middle at the hypothesis that your boyfriend was both of these men, but none of them. “So, it’s like a split personality manifesting completely?”

“We’re a bit sure on how to compare it to something such as dissociative disorder,” Momo spoke calmly, undoubtedly her mind working a mile a millisecond to make sense of the strange predicament you all were in. “He’s been in here for some time now. And from what we’ve managed to question from him, both parts of Todoroki-san remember everything. It seems they differ in just how they felt about it on an emotional basis.”

You blinked once, twice.

“Do you mind giving me an example?”

Goddamn idiot you were.

“Well, I guess the bigger emotional differences were during our high school years,” Midoriya mumbled, his fingers pinching his lower lip in thought. “A good example would be why he challenged me during the sports festival. Redhead Shouto said he did it because he hated Endeavor so much back then he was willing to prove his strength no matter what. White-haired Shouto says it was an overreaction on his own part and that he’s truly sorry.”

You frowned.

“It almost sounds like if Todoroki-san’s quirk had been only one of his parents, and his two halves are insights to the life he would have led if he had only one,” Momo offered a pursed stare. She didn’t seem too sure of her conclusion, but for you, it was enough.

“Honestly, you were the only one I saw both Todoroki-kun’s act the same toward!” Mina exclaimed, her hands grabbing your shoulders as she leaned in close, a sly grin on her face. “It’s like the two of you are destined lovers, no matter how the world is!”

“Mina!” you whined, feeling utterly embarrassed as she snickered loudly, her eye falling into a wink before straightening up.

“Alright, so just a recap: don’t mention which one is the ‘real’ Todoroki,” Mina warned, already moving back into the room.

“What do we call them then?” you whispered, feeling not at all prepared to stare at two, stupid hot versions of your same boyfriend.

“Ah-ha, well,” Midoriya smiled embarrassed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as you all walked back in. “Only Kacchan brought up a nickname so far.”

“YOU STUPID FUCKING RED HALF!” Bakugou’s voice roared the moment the door opened, and immediately, you were pulled back into the mess of the situation. “I’LL MURDER YOUR ASS!”

“Someone was clearly not raised on manners,” came the snide remark from Shouto’s white half, and you watched on in horror as your old male classmates worked together to hold off all three rambunctious boys to keep from fighting.

“LET GO OF ME, SHITTY HAIR! I’LL GIVE THEM BOTH NEW SCARS IF THEY KEEP ACTING LIKE THIS!”

But you stared at the apathetic face on Shouto’s red half, his eyes somehow empty, dull, and angry as he glared at Bakugou.

Red half.

Red.

You looked at Shouto’s white half that was grinning at the challenge, icy frosting off his body akin to the explosions on Bakugou’s fists as he egged him on.

White.

That would be easy enough.

You snorted, before walking forward, grabbing your boyfriend(s) hands in yours, and they quickly turned to look at you. Their gazes turning warm and full, their demeanor utterly different as the raging Bakugou faded into the background.

“So, I’m sure you both know what’s going on at the moment,” you spoke clearly, just loudly enough to be heard over the popping explosions on Bakugou’s palms. “I also know you’re both confident in who you are, but the truth is you both have the same name, so we’re going to need a new thing to call the both of you. Is that okay?”

“Ah, I see,” white-haired Shouto nodded, his hand tightening around yours, his thumb running along the backside of your palm. “You will continue to call me Shouto, and we will call him, the Imposter.”

Wait, what?!

“I’m not the imposter,” redheaded Shouto rolled his eyes, taking the hand he held up to his lips, pressing a gentle, warm kiss to your knuckles — it contrasted chillingly with the cold, aloof tone he continues to have with his white half. “I am, after all, the one with the facial scar. It is the most recognizable feature of me. Clearly, you’re the imposter.”

You had to ignore the way your stomach fluttered and how your cheeks exploded in heat as both Shouto’s were suddenly kissing your knuckles. They only went further after leaving warm, chilling kisses on your skin. For they pulled you closer by your waist, a physical challenge between the two to claim you. Even though they both were for you.

It was only made worse by the wide-eyed, cheek splitting grins, and spluttering noises made by your old classmates who relished in this rom-com type embarrassment.

“Oh my god, enough!” you squeaked, trying to shove both overpowering men away from you.

“See, you’re being too much,” white-haired Shouto snapped, ripping you from redhead Shouto’s hold.

“Let. Y/n. Go.” redhead Shouto growled, hand exploding with fire, and you wrestled yourself out of white-haired Shouto’s hold to press your palms flat against each of their chests.

“You both better calm down right now, or else I’ll send you off with our friends until you’re back to normal!” you snap, your cheek radiating with explosive heat. With the threat heavy on their minds, redhead Shouto took away his flame, and white-haired Shouto took a less defensive stance. Relieved with their current treaty, you thrust a finger at both halves, looking between your way too amused classmates and your boyfriend(s). “You will be called Red--” you jabbed redheaded Shouto with your finger-- “and you will be White!” you spoke clearly, tapping white-haired Shouto with your other finger.

“Am I understood?”

Silence.

You glared at your boyfriend(s) who were staring down at you with wide eyes and gaping jaws.

“I said, am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” your boyfriend(s) sputtered.

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Highlight of Day One of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

“Where is Red going to sleep?” White asked as you settled into the, thankfully, large bed the two -- now three -- of you shared. “On the floor?”

The bed had been a present from Endeavor when Shouto had moved into your apartment with you. It was much bigger than anything you owned, and while you hadn’t been fond of the length and stretch of the bed, you indeed were grateful for it now.

“Y/n likes to be warm when she sleeps,” Red duly noted, glaring at White the entire time it took him to crawl onto the right side of the bed. He settled right by you, arm wrapped around your waist, chin grazing against your temple. “You sleep on the floor.”

“You need comfort to stay beautiful, and since you’re eliminated from being that because of the scar on your face, you can sleep on the floor!” White countered while reciprocating the same position Red was doing.

Red’s eyebrow twitched at that before his glare soured and became icy cold, “I have the bigger co--”

“Both of you shut up now!” you snap, the palms of your hands shoving their faces away from one another. You were feeling more like a mother to a pair of troublesome twin toddlers than the girlfriend of your boyfriend(s). “I don’t want to hear it!” you groan as both their jaws dropped to attempt to speak their mind. “If you can’t shut up and sleep, I’ll sleep on the floor!”

“No!”

“Then shut up, love me more, and let’s go to bed!”

…

“You don’t have the bigger cock--”

“Oh my god!”

“Please don’t go, my love, White is an idiot.”

Highlight of Day Two of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

“Well, this is certainly an interesting thing to be experiencing,” Rei’s gentle voice filled the room as both Red and White sat at her sides. Neither one of them touching her, but their gazes warm and soft for their mother. Rei touched the cheeks of both her son(s) and sighed softly before returning her attention to you. “Has it been hard? I do hope they’ve been behaving themselves.”

You smiled in hopes it would help to hide the grimace on your features as you laughed.

Just this morning, the two of them nearly burned down the kitchen while trying to outperform one another in making you breakfast in bed. It was of ample notice to realize that just one Todoroki Shouto was not to be trusted in the kitchen, but putting two Todoroki Shouto’s in there had caused them to somehow burn water and melt the stove.

The eggs they managed to pull together were burnt yet undercooked and had eggshells in them.

It wasn’t the worst meal you’ve had fun enough.

“They’re doing just fine,” you lie, your smile warm at the woman you would hope to one day become your mother-in-law. “Just a bit odd to deal with two people when I’m so used to one.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is. In fact, they initially saw Shouto was to be twins, but he absorbed the other one in the womb,” Rei admitted, a small laugh on her tongue as she politely covered her mouth, her eyes closed in her mirth. “A bit funny how it seems like this could have been the outcome of that life.”

You feel a cold sweat drip on the back of your neck as Red straightens, his eyes darkening as he makes contact with Rei’s arm, and fear thrums through every fiber of your being.

“Kaa-san?”

“Yes, Shouto?” Rei asked, her warm grey eyes taking in Red’s gloomy form.

“White called me ugly.”

Highlight of Day Three of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

“My love, I’m not feeling too well,” White groaned on the couch when you first arrived home.

Unfortunately, or fortunately for you, you were still being cleared to work during this time of split Shouto. After a much-needed relatively short time away from home, you had returned after a patrol to a clean apartment living room and Red sitting on the singles armchair, and White sprawled on the couch.

You froze, Shouto hardly ever got sick! His internal temperature was always so in tune to the things around him that no virus, bug, or bacteria ever managed to infect him with sickness. For all five years of knowing him, you had never once seen him sick.

“Oh my god!” you panicked, rushing to remove your coat and shoes as you ran over to the couch to feel his forehead for a temperature.

He was running a bit cold, as he always did on his right side of his body, so you internally freaked about if this was normal or not! Your Shouto always had a specific spot on his forehead that was considered normal, but this was not your normal Shouto.

You were fucked, so wildly fucked.

“Are you okay? What do you need? I can go get you a blanket. I’ll get some soup going! What medicine do you think you need?!”

“There’s…” White trailed off in his exhaustion, his hands rubbing his face in probably his sick delirium. “There’s only one thing that will help…”

“What is it?” you asked, leaning in closer to him so that his flushed lips were centimeters from your ear.

“I need... “ he trailed off, and you leaned in closer, only to be suddenly trapped in his arms and pulled on top of him. “Some one-on-one time with my beautiful girlfriend!”

The scent of burning leather filled the room.

“WHITE PUT IT OUT! PUT OUT THE FIRE!”

“Princess, I’m not feeling good.”

Good fucking grief.

Highlight of Day Four of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

“Hot soba.”

“Cold soba.”

“Hot soba.”

“Cold soba.”

“Hot.”

“Cold.”

“Hot!”

“Cold.”

“The store has both!” you sobbed, your boyfriend(s) adopting their possessive hugging on your body while out in public as you had attempted to get them out of the house because you thought that maybe, just maybe, they were feeling stir-crazy.

“But we always share our soba noodles, y/n,” Red looked down at you, tilting your chin so that you could look at him clearly. “I know you love cold soba more.”

“We get it, Ice Princess, daddy hurt your feelings, and now you still hate everything hot! Get over it; y/n always buys hot soba when you’re not around.”

“G-Guys,” you whimper, suddenly feeling drowned out with the clashing of ice and fire personalities around you as the crowd watched on in bemusement. “Please stop.”

They suddenly both turned on you, their eyes narrowed, faces fierce as they both exclaimed at the same time: “Which soba do you like better?!”

You’re too exhausted of them to even scold them like you had used to anymore.

In the end, they tried to settle it via arm wrestling, which resulted in a horrible tie. They had both tried to use their quirks to win, somehow forgetting in the heat of their battle that their quirks not only canceled each other, but their strength was painfully equivalent.

Highlight of Day Five of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

To be frank, you missed kissing Shouto.

With them being the way they were and how horribly chaotic they acted, you knew if you kissed one, it would lead to them both impregnating you and slipping an engagement ring on your pretty ring finger well before you were ready for either one of those things. So instead, you stared at both of their equally perfect lips.

Full, slightly pouty pink lips that were somewhat chapped as they always were due to his quirk elements. Full, soft lips that you had felt pressed to your hands and cheeks for the past five days, and yet you craved it to be pressed against your lips, but that was undoubtedly dangerous.

But you continued to stare at Red’s lips, at White’s lips.

You liked seeing how their teeth exposed themselves when they smiled, or how he had barely formed dimples on his cheeks, the smile lines that had finally formed on his previously smooth face. You liked seeing the way he bit on his lower lip when he held his tongue, or how his tongue seductively swiped his lips when he caught you staring.

Wait—?!

You snapped out of your daze, staring at the suggestive, all too pleased look on White’s face as he leaned in close to you while Red was busy performing his daily workout routine.

“You want to fuck while Not-the-real-Shouto’s busy? He won’t know, I promise.”

You flush.

“No!”

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It was day six of split Shouto when you woke up.

Your eyes stinging with exhaustion as you stared up at the ceiling as bodies of ice and fire sandwiched you between them. They snored softly, breathes deep and full in perfect harmony as they slumbered. You hated Shouto. You hated him so much.

This could have been a fantastic experience in your fantasies. Cloning quirks were a thing, and often you would hear about the sexual endeavors many partook in while in the company of someone with such quirk. It seemed like so much fun. Someone existing solely to be fucked, replicated from someone you already trusted.

It seemed perfect.

But here you were. Living the life of many porn fantasies, but the clones — not clones — hated one another. You couldn’t even so much as breathe next to one of them for too long before the other came to rip you away, annoyed, and ready to reclaim you. They were behaving as if you didn’t already belong to them.

Maybe you could have handled the lack of horny, lusting out of your mind sex if they had simply allowed you to kiss them without starting a war. But they claimed they would rather die than see you kiss someone that wasn’t them (singular them).

So, you were struggling.

The internal struggle only grew when they woke up at the same time. Growing when they both exposed their scarred, perfectly muscled, and toned body. It grew when they pressed their sinful body against yours, and you could only look up at them with eyes like a full moon, heat wet in your panties. You wanted something to happen because watching them go at it again for the fifty-third time today suddenly made your mind snap.

Since they wouldn’t seem to quit fighting, you might as well be fucked while they fought amongst themselves. You were a big girl, you could handle two cocks around your body.

At the moment, you were in the communal kitchen living room area. You sat at the table, trying to enjoy your cup of tea while they stood a few strides away from you… arguing.

“Would you both put those mouths to better use than fighting with each other?!” you finally snapped, your hands tugging at the roots of your hair after you placed down your cup of tea. They had been fighting for the past hour as to whether or not Shouto’s first costume idea was created because of Red or because of White.

Neither one of them claimed responsibility on that one funny enough.

They fell silent immediately. Both their eyes wide, brows furrowed, and jaws gaping like a fish as they tried to separate their conversation from what you just said.

“Better use?” Red stated, his blink slow.

A curling, devious smirk spread on White’s face, “Oh, did my love finally cave to being fucked?”

“I didn’t think you would be into cucking,” Red admitted, his own smirk growing on his face while White frowned and glared at him. “What? It’s obvious it would be you tied up, White. You can’t expect y/n to trust either one of us to sit there, so she’d tie us up. My fire would easily destroy the bonds.”

Ah yes, how could you forget that they’d adopted only one half of the one quirk Shouto possessed. Now while you definitely wouldn’t mind cucking both sides of Shouto at some point, that wasn’t what you were craving at the moment.

“Y/n loves ice trailing down her body, I can definitely satisfy her better!”

“Like I said a few days ago, I have the bigger cock, so shut up and watch us.”

They were going to drive you insane.

Standing up from the table, the chair screeching against the floor as you did so, their attention fell on you. You felt heat rushing to your cheeks, your heart fluttering in your chest as turquoise and grey eyes that you could read like nothing gorged into your form.

You settled between them, feeling dwarfed between their taller, muscled forms. Red was in a white t-shirt and sweats, White in a black shirt and dark jeans. You were unsure as to why you felt so shaken when you pressed your fingers between the valley of their pecs, your tongue heavy in your mouth. You blamed it on the six-day dry-feast the idiots put you in, and the mere thought of finally getting your way was exhilarating.

“This is what’s going to happen,” you say with no room for arguing, your gaze meeting theirs through your eyelashes. “We are all going to fuck. There’s three of us, and I’m the one who wants to be satisfied, so this will be a threesome. Fuck me any way you want, I don’t care, but whoever starts fighting first gets cucked.”

Red is staring at you with his piercing turquoise eyes, White’s gaze dropped to your tracing finger on his chest. But the consensus was the same.

“Yes, ma’am.”

A warm, fluttery smile breached your face, and you nodded.

“Good… now, fuck me.”

They begin almost immediately. Two initially contradicting forces of fire and ice abandoning their internal surge for power to appease and please you. There’s no stopping the shiver and the moan trapped in your throat when two identical sets of hands you knew and craved the touch of finally made contact with your body. Red’s hands were on your breasts, groping and massaging your mounds of flesh while his mouth pressed tantalizing kisses along the curve of your neck, along the length of your clavicle.

White had dropped down, his mouth pressing hot, kisses against the flesh of your thighs and your ass. His fingers pushing the sleeping shorts you still wore, his calloused fingers brushing against your clit.

You openly moaned, hands pressing against both White and Red for some form of support.

“You’re already so wet,” White groans his observation, his finger slicking itself against your wet folds.

You shake, your head nodding in full understanding as you began to rotate your hips against his finger. Of course, you were so wet, you thought, goosebumps flashing against your entire body when Red pinched your nipples through your light tank.

“You try living with two of me and be denied every physical need,” you gasped, your voice pitching the moment Red’s teeth sank into the sweet spot on your neck the same time White’s finger curled within your walls. “Fuck…”

“It’s so cute when you whisper like that,” Red noted, his hands lifting your breast, tongue smoothing over your irritated skin. “I bet you didn’t mind our quirk accident because you wanted something like this.”

Now that was definitely something you couldn’t disagree about.

But with the way your body was so desperately deprived and how there were two sources of knowledge on you. Knowing the perfect sensations on your sensitive parts of your body, you pushed them away.

Grey and turquoise blazed into your skin, but you huffed, grabbing them by the hands and pulling on them.

“I want the bed,” you affirm, your cheeks feeling warm, your eyes keeping on theirs. “We’re fucking on the bed.”

“Of course, my love,” they responded together. And the heat in your body seemed to multiple when you pushed through into the room.

Guiding them into the bedroom, you didn’t release their hands until they were sitting down onto the bed—Red on your right, white on your left.

Their stares are expectant, already clouded with horny, lustful need when you let go of their hands. Before they could ask what was next, you leaned in, opposite hands pressing to each of their crotches, and they both groaned lightly in their chest. You palmed them through their clothes, your cunt throbbing with the fact that you enjoyed watching their hooded, lusting expressions bore into your figure. Biting down onto your lower lip, you stopped a tethering moan from escaping when both their hands grabbed onto your ass.

They fondled the flesh as you continued to palm them, the cock buried within their clothes growing harder and larger with every quick movement of your hand. They both were so hot and dangerously heavy hidden away in the confines of the pants, and you wanted nothing more than to be choking and stuffed full of them both.

But you don’t get your way just yet.

“On the bed,” Red suddenly commands, and you stop a squeak from embarrassingly ripping from your throat. You stumble on the large bed, and both Red and White shift so that there’s enough room for you to be perched between them. Ass on Whites side, face on Red’s, and you feel your body freeze when everything picks up speed.

White’s lips are on the back of your thigh, kissing and nibbling on the sensitive skin while his fingers take up rubbing your cunt again. Your body trembles under his ministrations, hips shifting, and bucking against him as he once again buries his fingers into your blistering core.

But with the moans singing from your lips, you felt transcended. The way that your eyes rolled to the back of your head with each shift of White’s fingers proving that point, you focused in on Red, who had shoved your breasts over the hem of your shirt. You whimpered loudly when his fingers pinched at both nipples, tugging at the pebbled flesh.

“Such pretty noises,” Red whispered, his nose brushing against yours, and you throbbed with the need to be kissed. “Are you enjoying this?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “Please give me more, more, please.”

Red inhaled sharply, his eyes blazing like blue fire before finally, he crashed his lips against yours, unable to hold back anymore, and you cried in glorious acceptance. You kissed Red back with everything you had. Your lips slick with your joining, mixing saliva while he continued to press bruising, heated kisses to your mouth. Your hands at one point had attached themselves onto his biceps, and you found your fingernails to be digging through his skin, but Red didn’t care.

He continued to play with your hanging, sore tits, his tongue entering the barricade of your mouth as he kissed you again, and again, and again.

His name spilling from your mouth until you froze, your back tightening the second something more was happening behind you.

White’s finger, covered in the slick of your essence, was probing through your ass all while he continued to finger fuck your cunt.

“Aw, you do like it when my finger goes into your ass!” White chirped, his finger pressing further past your tight rim, sending your mind into a flurry of thoughts and feelings at the sensation of being stretched out, while you collapsed onto the mattress. Red abandoned you. “Your ass always looks so fucking hot when it takes in my finger. It’s like it's sucking me back in whenever I try to pull out. So. Fucking. Hot.”

You could do nothing but choke out White’s name the second the finger curled in your ass and the fingers buried in your cunt came together to press between the thin wall separating the two cavities, and you keened at the feeling.

“White!” you yelled, your eyebrows furrowed in your pleasure, your hips bucking back against his hands. “More! I need more!”

It was at that moment his fingers abandoned your holes, but before you could cry at the loss, Red was back in front of you, naked as the day he was born. But his cock was hard, pressed against his stomach, standing tall and erect for you to suck.

“Come on, angel,” Red spoke, tilting your chin up so that he may press another sizzling kiss to your mouth. “Play with my cock.”

Still, on your knees, your back arched, mouth entirely occupied with Red’s mouth, your hand blindly grabbed his cock and began to jerk him off. You kissed him harshly, thoroughly, not wanting to let him go without exploring and feeling every little thing you could offer while you run your hand up and down his length.

You fully moaned into his mouth when his fingers lightly brushed against your neck, showing how sensitive you are. He runs his hand all the way down to your hips and latches onto your ass cheek. You mewl against him, wondering just why he was doing that when something hot and wet pressed against your cunt.

Breaking off the kiss immediately, you turned around to see White’s face buried into your ass, but his tongue was meeting your cunt with every languid lick.

“Shit!” you curse, your hips bucking and moving to better find White’s tongue against your core. But before you could find your spot, his tongue abandons your cunt and presses back against your tight, tight rim.

Trembling, your eyes roll to the back of your head, all while Red reclaims your lips.

Your hand encompassing his cock began to pick up in speed as White seemed to interchange between tongue fucking your ass and cunt. Whimpering needs only resonated from your mouth into Red’s as you jacked him off sloppily, messily at heightened speeds while you begged for more.

It didn’t take long before they both pulled away from you, and you in your heat daze, teared up as you watched both Red and White step onto the floor, their twin, identical cocks out, leaking with precum that called your name. You didn't need to be told what to do at this point as you stumbled out of bed, falling to your knees right between them.

With Red’s cock in your left hand, you pulled him into your mouth, your right hand expertly, yet blindly jerking White off. You pushed your head as far down as it could go along Red’s cock, your eyes trying to keep on his the entire time.

Relishing in the fact that his cock went unchanged, your tongue swirled around Red’s cock, your head bobbing along his length, and Red smirked down at you, pressing the tears in your eyes away. Pulling away with a string of saliva connecting his head to your lip, you alternated onto White’s cock, your left hand continuing to jerk off Red.

White groaned at the sudden heat, immersing against his length, his hips snapping into your mouth as you took him all the way in. You had been dating Shouto for a few years now. You were definitely capable of taking him in your mouth in one go without trouble. But it just felt so different with one of your hands stroking off Red, and White’s hands grabbing your head while he thrust into you.

Before you could settle on White’s cock, you switched back to Red, who decided to command your every little instruction.

It quickly became a game between Red and White on who could make you choke and moan the loudest as they fucked your mouth and throat mercilessly. You, thankfully, were entirely enjoying it, your soaked pussy rubbing against your tight panties, and you rutted against the fabric trying to relive the building, fast pressure in your core.

“Fuck,” White snarled when Red had you completely choked against his cock. His cock was shoved as far down your throat as it could manage, and he kept you there. Painful tears falling from your eyes while your throat struggled to remain relaxed despite the burning lack of oxygen. “Keep her there, Red. Don’t let her move.”

Red, who was only entranced by you for quite some time, looked up with amusement at his other half.

“What, you like this?” Red asked a taunt hidden in his voice but was buried under so much more throbbing lust. “You like seeing y/n choking against a cock?”

You whimpered against Red, your throat muscles fluttering and flaring along his length-- what was he planning?

“Who wouldn’t want to see y/n like this,” White breathed, and you shook at the nonverbal agreement that passed between the two of them.

You whined at the unknown, finally being released from Red’s cock, and you spluttered and coughed, drool and saliva drenching your chin while you turned towards White, ready to do the same. But you shrieked, the wind knocking out of you when they both picked you up from the floor and tossing you onto the mattress. You bounced when you landed.

Both Red and White quickly moved to remove your clothes until you were naked as well, their eyes glimmering with their treaty, a million ideas undoubtedly pouring through their mind.

White is on you first. He joins you onto the mattress, his lips pressing and languidly moving against yours, and you moan against him.

“We’re going to start fucking you now, baby,” White whispers against your mouth, his thumb running up against your still spit slicked chin. With just his finger alone, he moves you so that you’re on your hands and knees before him, waiting like an obedient pet. Your eyes flutter open, just barely opened so that you could meet his stormy grey eyes while his thumb slips over your bottom lip and into your mouth. “I hope you’re ready to be fucked… Red?” he called, his thumb pressing down on your tongue, instinctively flaring your gag reflex.

“Hm?” Red answered back, and you stilled when something hot and heavy smacked against your ass.

Once, twice.

“Fuck her right.”

Silence.

You whimpered against White’s thumb, your eyes watering while you studied his determined, playful face. There's a chuckle from behind you, and you shiver at the fact that you could practically smell the knowing smirk on his face.

“Obviously.”

And then it happens.

Red slams his cock into your awaiting, wet pussy with a pleased groan while you lurched forward onto White at the mighty snap of Red’s hips. Naturally so, you screamed Red's name, your pussy singing in absolute love over the fact that he’s buried entirely within you, undoubtedly claiming you once again.

Before you could sing your praises for Red, White’s shut you up by replacing his thumb with his cock, and you’re forced silent.

When they worked against each other, they were annoying, irritating, and often horrifying, but together? Well, as Red’s cock shoved more profound and deeper into your womb, and White’s cock conquested your throat, you hummed with the pleasure they brought. Together they were powerful, commanding, and unbreakable, and if the sounds of your wet pussy and choking mouth were to prove it, it was more than just a fact.

You struggled to keep up with Red’s slamming hips, the girth of his cock stretching you out in an all too familiar way, and White driving cock that choked you out every time you moved. You felt dizzy with the thumping, tingling pleasure, your hand that held onto White’s hips clutching his skin, while your other one manipulated and circled your clit.

You wanted to cum. You wanted to so badly.

“You sound so hot choking on his cock,” Red laughed, his hand coming down to spank your jiggling ass with a single, powerful thwack. You bristled at the sensation. “Do more, sweetheart, I know you can do more; we’ve experienced you doing more.”

You garbled as White smirked down at you, your eyes just barely open enough to see the knowing look in his eyes.

“Use that little slut mouth of yours better, baby,” White taunted, his hand coming to pat your hollowed cheeks roughly, quickly, in a few stinging slaps.

This is what you liked, you realized as you pulled away from his length, mouth swallowing his balls with heightened eagerness, your hand rubbing his length as you did so. White moaned your name, his head dropping in his pleasure as you did so.

It must have done something for Red, too, because his fingers dug into the skin on your waist, his powerful thrusts becoming quicker, shorter thrusts that moved you against his cock with rattling power and craving lust. You whimpered against White’s balls and cried out in pleasure-filled pain the moment Red spanked you again, and again, and again.

Your cunt was fluttering, squeezing, and beating in time to your heartbeat. The pleasure within you grew from a light warmth to a blazing heat. You cried for more, your knees and thighs shaking for more.

More friction, more fucking, more of Shouto.

“Turn around, you little cockslut,” White grinned, removing you from his balls. “It’s my turn to fuck your pretty little cunt.”

Whining, you did as you were told, your limbs feeling like lead as Red smoothed back the hair falling on to your face.

Before you were ready, not that you minded, their cocks reclaimed your holes.

It was different this time.

They fucked you differently, you realized when White enjoyed pulling nearly all the way out before thrusting back into you. His strokes and powerful thrusts send the coil in your stomach to grow tighter and tighter. But Red, fuck, Red had his fingers in your mouth, choking you with them as he slapped your cheek with his cock, his precum mixed with your slick smearing all over your cheek as he did so.

“I want to make sure that you realize that me putting my cock in your mouth is a blessing,” Red coldly smirked, his eyes blazing with a whole other story. But despite it all, you nodded your head quickly. Altogether agreeing with the claim that you needed to earn his cock in your mouth again.

“I kno thath,” you whine against his fingers, saliva shamelessly dribbling past your lips, your mouth closing to suck on his fingers. “I promith I’ll apprethciate your giff.”

He could try all he wanted, but Red was whipped for you too.

His cock immediately replaced his fingers, slamming to the depths of your throat, all while the wet noises of your throat and choking voices joined the squelching of your cunt. Your eyes rolled in your pleasure, your cunt thrumming with energy as Red’s hands encircled your throat, choking you while he fucked straight down your throat.

“You looked so pretty earlier when you couldn’t breathe,” Red snarled, his cock twitching in your throat the same time White’s cock twitched in your cunt. “I’m just -- fuck do that again -- trying to get you there… faster… Your throat really feels like your fucking pussy at times, shit.”

You whimper at that comparison as you forcefully clench your throat and cunt around both of your boyfriend's cock.

But you vibrate when White’s finger traces your rim, his finger not disappearing into your wrinkled muscle, but stimulating it well past teasing. You pull off Red’s cock with a spluttering cough, your eyes burning, but you find White’s gaze immediately.

“What’s going on, sweetness?” White asked, his eyes glimmering with knowledge of what you want already, but the slick fucker just had to ask.

Too bad you weren’t ashamed of shit around him.

“I want you to fuck my ass,” you moan, your hips slamming back against White’s still shifting cock, your hand clenching one of your asscheeks as you split yourself open for White. “Please fuck my ass.”

“Fuck!” they both seemed to growl, and without so much as a break, White switches from your ass and buries his length slowly into your needy, tight ass.

The pitchy, unstoppable moan from your mouth sends both Red and White into whimpering messes as you collapse onto the mattress, your chest heaving with your heightened stimulus. It was starting to hurt, your lack of orgasm, you just needed a bit more done to cum, and you wanted to.

“Where’s my dick?” White finally growls at you as he bottoms out entirely within you. You tremble at the question, body shaking with every stroke of his cock he makes afterward. “Where is it?”

“I-In my ass!” you wail, your ass clenching around him, trying to make him feel this heated pleasure as strongly as you were. “It’s in m-my ass!”

“Do you love my cock in your ass?” White snarls, his hands gripping your waist and slamming you back onto him, your ass squeezing with the sensation. You can’t speak; your mind is overloaded with feeling and emotion. “Why do I even bother? I know you love my cock in your ass.”

Red comes back into the equation, his hands grabbing your jaw and pressing your mouth against his into a searing kiss. You can hardly kiss him back, your mouth pathetically hanging open as he kisses your teeth, mouth, tongue. So, it shouldn’t shock you that in your near blissful blackout, Red hands your limp arms to White, who holds onto them.

His grasp and hold on your arms elevates you slightly off the bed, your back arched, and breasts exposed as he begins to jackhammer into your ass. You want to scream, you want to shudder and cry your sensations to the world, but Red interrupts once more by pressing his swollen, purpling head into your mouth, silencing you with gags and chokes while they both use you.

They both drive into you with ferocity and power, your body nearly limp and twitching with your ever still denied orgasm that refuses to back down, and the way the lack of oxygen makes you spin as Red’s balls clash against your throat in quick, succinct, patterns.

“Sit down, White,” Red snaps at White, and White, who was ever so entranced at how your ass was swallowing his cock, dumbly nods. “Y/n is about to cum, we need to make sure she cums correctly.”

You whine against Red’s cock, unsure if you heard him correctly when White drops your arms. But instead of falling forward as you thought you would, his relaxed arms wrapped around your waist tightly, bringing you down with him.

Your back was pressed against his chiseled chest. And you moaned at the sensation this angle brought in terms of depth and stretch. Your mouth, freed from Red’s cock, opened in a loud, scratchy moan, undoubtedly raspy from the abuse it went through from the vigorous face fucking.

“R-Red!” you cried, your legs shaking when White hooked his arms under your knees and spreading them out, exposing your wet, slick core to Red, who was merely watching. You shifted pathetically, wanting to have both of them on you, not just one. “Red, please!”

But, White’s hips began to thrust upward, resuming his fucking of your asshole, and you howled in pleasure as he breathed heavily, gasping in your right ear. But as your legs trembled, unsure if White would be able to keep your legs in such position, Red pressed on top of you, his weight keeping your legs spread, and his cock quickly slamming within your cunt.

You had one hand buried in White’s hair, the other slipping behind Red’s back when he pressed onto you. The second their cocks rubbed against each other through the oh so thin wall between your ass and your cunt, you screeched. The hand in White’s hair tugging at his roots harshly, and the hand on Red’s back drawing bloody mountains on his skin.

But this didn’t stop them, the slight pain you gave them doing nothing but making them growl in your ear, making your eyes cross in your oblivion while they continued to fuck you.

Sandwiched between them, your breasts crushed by Red’s chest, and your back buried into White’s chest, White let go of one of your legs that immediately latched around Red’s waist. Your eyes crossed, rolling to the back of your head, your mouth agape, but no noise coming out as every massive, hard thrust sent your soul into a new dimension. White’s hand sneaking between Red’s drilling hips and your cunt to pinch and pull at your clit as you shook like a leaf in a windstorm. You came without realizing it, your walls clenching like a vice against Red’s cock, and your ass clenching around White’s in tandem to your orgasm. Both of them moaning against your salty sweat skin, but neither one of them stopped.

Faster and faster, they thrust into you, gaining such speed and power that you felt akin to a ragdoll as they fucked you. They praised you for taking them both at the same time, senseless names, and wordless praise as you took them without a single wince of pain. You were theirs, they claimed, and they were yours.

The sounds of their cock drilling into the wet caverns of your cunt and ass, the sticking shivering sound of their balls smacking your ass and cunt.

It was so much, growing to be more and more, until your orgasm was once again growing as you attempted to shift your weak, still trembling hips up and down their length, wanton gasps shrill on your tongue. Your body begging for more.

“Gonna cum,” they whispered together, his deep, raspy voice filling both of your ears, and you wailed as your own orgasm tipped once again.

“Cum in me, please cum in me!” you begged with everything you had.

And with your pleading heavy in the air, they came with you. You moaned at the feeling of the hot, sticky thick ropes of cum filling up both your holes, the cocks spasming uncontrollably within you as their hips continued to ride out their orgasms. Your chest heaves as their snapping hips become rolling thrusts until finally, they stop.

All three of you still joined, all three of you sweaty and tired.

When you pass out, you can barely hear them saying goodbye.

…

You wake up, your body sore and bruised around midnight.

You groan, stretching out your neck as you realize that there is no body on top of you or beneath you as that was definitely how you all had fallen asleep a few hours ago. Panic filled you when the bed was empty, and you rushed to your feet, cursing when your knees buckled out from under your weight.

Crashing to the floor, you groaned as you lay there.

“What are you doing on the floor?” an all too familiar voice asked you, and you looked up to see if it was Red or White.

You blinked when instead the once two distinctive heads blurred into one, and you stared at your finally normal boyfriend.

“S-Shouto!” you cried, your body weakly pressing off the floor, your arms stretching to you.

Shouto smiled warmly, softly, the perfect in-between of the facial expressions Red and White would give you.

“I’m back, sorry for scaring you like that,” he whispered as he joined you on the floor, letting your arms wrap him into a firm hug, not wanting to let go as you pathetically began to cry.

The two of you lay naked together on the floor, his soft apologies gathering in your ear as you held him tightly, having missed him entirely.

“Do you remember?” you eventually asked long after Shouto managed to bring you back into the bed. You lay curled into his side, your fingers tracing the marks on his body that you had left on both Red and White. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Yes… and I remember how it all felt too.”

“Ew… perv…”

“Try that again? Ms. ‘I-want-your-cock-in-my-ass’.”

“SHOUTO!”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #bbs kinktober 2020

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duskholland · 4 years ago

Note

this is so completely random and unprompted (sense the sarcasm as the tommy thighs live in my mind rent-free since the first pic of pants-less tom content) but would you please indulge me with a thigh riding blurb with some dom!tom vibes? maybe a bit of praise k*nk in there, too, if that floats your boat? soft!dom!tom...oui. anyways love u + thanks for letting me sin bye <3

his thighs... they’re just something else. i think i was possessed when i wrote this lmao. wc: 2k // 18+ content minors dni!!!!!!

extended warnings ↠ slight dom!tom + praise kink, thigh riding. tom holland’s thighs, because they deserve a warning of their own.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

You’re bored.

Tom’s house out in Atlanta is huge, and when he’s not stowed away in the office doing online press, there’s never normally a dull moment. You usually find some way to entertain yourself, be that pestering your boyfriend for attention or filling your time with work. Just, it’s a Saturday, and you have nothing to do, and Tom’s been away all day.

After spending the morning catching up with friends and refreshing social media until you have the spinning reload sign flashing behind your eyes, you resort to texting Tom. Down in the office—or the press room, as he’s come to call it—his phone is on silent, so you don’t need to worry about interrupting something. He’s been trading selfies with you all day, providing small snapshots of his socks, his hair, his setup whenever he catches a break. The little teases have only made your yearning worse.

Y/N: when do you finish? Y/N: I’m bored and I miss you :(

You lay back on your bed as you wait on a response, chewing your lip slightly as your hands play with the sheets. Your expression darkens as you look to the side, seeing the throw pillows discarded on the floor and remembering intimate times gone by.

You’ve been in a mood all day, the space between your legs warm. Every time you get bored, your mind wanders, and you’ve been very bored today. The front of your panties feels damp, your body tortured by the memories of last night. It’s a never-ending montage of Tom’s hair brushing your neck, his lips on your breasts, his greedy hands grabbing at your waist. You almost moan as you remember how he’d held you down last night and made love to you until you’d cried, your skin slick with sweat and your mind gone too. He never fails to bring you to the heights of pleasure you’d never thought existed.

Tom: on a break just now if you want to come down Tom: think there’s ten minutes before the next one x

It doesn’t take long for you to get to the office, your feet moving of their own accord. When you open the door, Tom glances back, and you feel your breath catch in the back of your throat.

He looks good. Tom is handsome, and you always enjoy looking at him, but with his torso covered in a tight black shirt and blazer and his hair styled in loose waves on the top of his head, he looks incredibly dashing. He flashes you a mischievous smile as he reaches up to pull the AirPods from his ears, his Rolex glinting beneath the bright studio lights that illuminate his setup.

“Afternoon, darling,” he says. He turns in the chair, swinging an arm over the back of it as he watches you enter the room, closing the door behind you. “How are you?”

You bite your lip, shameless eyes skating over his form. Tom stands to greet you, and your eyes widen, falling to his bare legs. “Why are you half-naked?” you ask, the tip of your nose scrunching up as you chuckle. You meet him in the centre of the room, wrapping your arms around his warm torso before pulling him in for a light hug, being mindful of his pressed suit.

“Comfier,” he explains. “Too hot in all of that. Gets fucking boiling in here.” Tom’s hands smooth up to your hair, and he gently coaxes you from his chest, peering down at you with those brown eyes you love so much. “Gimme a kiss, lovie.”

Eager to feel him, you step closer and lean in, finding his lips in an easy kiss. The moment your mouth makes contact with the soft warmth of Tom’s pillowy lips, you feel yourself melt, the heat coming back to your core almost immediately. You reach up and drape your arms around his neck, getting in as close as you can as you part your lips, licking over his lower lip until he takes the bait and easily slips his tongue into your mouth.

Tom grunts when you play with the back of his hair, tugging on his strands as your tongues glide together. His hands are on your waist, and you find yourself moaning into his mouth when he slips his fingers beneath your shirt and lets them roam all over your figure. As he kisses you, his hands shift up your torso, lingering at your breasts and groping them eagerly.

“No bra?” he moans against you. You whimper as he brushes his thumbs over your nipples, making him chuckle. “Fuck, love,” he murmurs, “eager today, aren’t you?”

You pull away from him, panting for breath. “Yeah,” you admit, not even trying to be coy about it. Time is of the essence, and you know exactly what you want. One of Tom’s warm hands skates down your figure, and your abdomen flexes as his fingers trail over your skin, his blunt fingernails lightly tickling your stomach as he travels to your cunt. “Tom,” you say, voice catching. “Please.”

He’s teasing you, eyes on your face as he slides his hand beneath your shorts and teases his fingers over the front of your panties. With a torturously light touch, he rolls his index finger over the front of your slit.

“God,” he murmurs, leaning in to roughly kiss your jaw. “You’re soaked.”

Your eyes threaten to roll back as he rubs you over the cotton, touch light but enough to bring you the smallest amount of pleasure. You grab at his firm bicep, a choked whine travelling up your throat.

“Tom.”

“Mmm? What do you want, darling? You know we don’t have much time.” Tom’s got a dark glint in his eyes, and it only deepens when he finally shifts your panties to the side and lets his fingers envelop your silky folds. You gasp when he dips his index and middle fingers down to your entrance, pushing into the warmth of your arousal before spreading it up to your bud. He’s quick to tease your clit, cooing softly as you struggle to speak. “Use your words, gorgeous girl. I want to give you what you want, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what that is.”

“Fuck me,” you ask, voice catching as he speeds up his circles.

“No time, darling.” Tom frowns when he sees you pout, and with the hand not between your legs, he reaches up to play with your lower lip. After a moment’s contemplation, he slips his fingers into your mouth. You suck them in further, glad for their heavy presence weighing down your tongue and enjoying how their girth muffles your moans. “I have an idea. C’mere.”

Before you have time to complain, Tom has pulled away from you, leaving your aching cunt alone and your mouth empty. He walks to the green sofa in the back of the room and collapses onto it with ease, smirking up at you as he parts his legs. He looks wide and domineering, spread out, awaiting you, with his bare thighs rippling and on display. His muscles are clear and defined, packed tight in firm ridges against his golden skin. Just the sight of him patting one of them with his hand is enough to make you salivate.

“Ride it,” he encourages, beckoning you forth with a smirk. He tilts his watch towards his face, squinting as he stares at the metal. “You have three minutes to cum, or you’ll need to wait. I won’t be finished for another two hours.”

Eyes widening, you move over to him, pausing in front of your boyfriend to push down your shorts and your panties. Tom reaches out for you, his warm palms sinking into the curves of your hips as he helps you into his lap. He sits up against the sofa, reaching down to grab at your shirt as you work on straddling his thigh. You settle over his left leg, a loud moan trembling up your throat as you lower yourself and your slit presses against the firmness of his skin.

“Oh,” you moan, tossing your head back. Tom pulls your shirt over your head, his face dropping down until he’s able to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. You cry out as you slowly grind down against his leg, his skin quickly getting coated in the arousal that covers your slit. Each time he nibbles your nipple, he follows up the action with a warm lap of his tongue, and the noises you elicit rise in pitch.

“Pretty girl,” Tom murmurs, leaving your chest and replacing his mouth with a hand. The other goes to your hip, and he helps you swirl your hips a little faster, his eyes almost black. “Look so fucking hot getting off on my leg, darling. So needy.” His accent is prominent as he watches you, smirking. “You’re my needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You fall forwards, panting into his neck as your forehead rests on his shoulder. Tom’s lips kiss the top of your head, grounding you as the pleasure starts to build. There’s an indescribable warmth spreading across your core, stemming from where your clit rubs up against his muscular thigh. The pleasurable burn of the friction makes you whimper.

“Yeah,” you pant, after taking a few moments to muster your breath. You gasp when Tom tenses his leg, his muscular thigh pressing up against you. “Fuck,” you whimper. “Feels so good, Tom. You’re so strong.”

He’s rolling both hands over your hips now, and one of them slips up to trace across your bare back. He holds you tightly to his chest, even as your breathing becomes irregular, continuing to guide your movements as you grow uneven. You can feel your orgasm twisting in the pit of your stomach, feel the temperature of your blood rising as it builds between your legs. With each grind of your wet cunt against his thigh, the pressure builds, every part of you aching for release.

“My darling girl,” Tom murmurs. “Are you going to make a mess all over my leg?” When you release a clouded moan, he chuckles. “I know you are. It’s okay. I can feel you squirming, baby. I know you can’t wait.” He drops his voice, rasping into your ear as you shake in his lap. “Go on, love. Be a good girl and let go. Get my thigh all wet. There you go.”

Your jaw slackens, and his words push you over the edge. You squirm over Tom’s sturdy thigh, glad for his strong hands on your hips as they guide your movements when you get lost in the pleasure. Your moans intersperse with his name, and you collapse against him as your high rolls across you, flooding you with intense, pulsing pleasure.

“There you go,” he murmurs, kissing over the side of your face until you eventually pry yourself away from him. Tom smiles at you, dragging his lips across your cheek to find your lips. It’s a sweeter kiss, and you pour in your gratitude. “Sweet girl.”

Your lips twitch into a smile as you look up at him, appreciating the lines of his handsome face and the adoration that sparkles in his eyes.

“Thank you,” you say. “I—”

Both of you startle as a ringing sound cuts through the air, and you turn around to see the computer on the desk lighting up with an incoming call.

“Oh, fuck,” Tom mutters. He kisses you, briefly but with intention, then stumbles to his feet. “How do I look?”

You follow him to your feet, quickly pulling on your clothes before walking to him. “Perfect,” you say, once you’ve adjusted the collar of his suit jacket. You press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Good luck, handsome.”

Tom nods, eyes skittering across your form. He shoots you a wink before falling back into the chair, looking over his shoulder at you as you walk towards the door. “Be ready for later,” he calls out. “I’m not done with you yet.”

#suffering #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #smut #myblurbs #tomblurbs #tom.filth

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just-my-fandom · 4 years ago

Note

I like the hc on being for the Ninjas dating another ninjas sister who’s their soulmate, Could do one where reader (Lloyd’s older sister) Has been dating cole for a bit in secret and Lloyd and Garmadon find out and become overprotective ( I am so sorry I just love the overprotective dad and/or brother trope)

Boo (Cole Brookstone x Garmadon! Reader)

A/N; I stuck with the powers the reader has in this headcannon. I’m currently only writing for Ninjago, the Umbrella Academy, and Stranger Things, so send them in.

Summary; When the Ninja join the Tournament of Elements, Cole and the reader are forced to fight one another. Cole risking himself already raises suspicion to Lloyd and Garmadon, but it isn’t until they confront the reader before they find out the truth.

Also side note, Rest In Peace to Kirby Morrow who voiced Cole.

“THIS whole thing is so stupid,” You drop your tray onto the table seated with four men, settling next to your father and sensei, Garmadon,

“Hey, their foods great though,” Kai speaks up from across you, seated between Cole and your younger brother, Lloyd,

“Take it,” You mutter, pushing your tray to the hot head before resting your elbows on the table,

“You can’t be skipping meals, Y/N,” Garmadon states, dragging the tray back in front of you so you glanced and glared at him, “You never know when you’ll have to fight,”

“Hopefully never,” You spit, Garmadon raising his eyebrows at your tone, “Come on, dad. We’ve already had four rounds and none of us had to fight. Face it, Chen just wants us here for his enjoyment. He doesn’t want to lose any of us,”

“Me and you are seeing a completely different story here, Y/N/N,” Jay peers over the booth across from you, eyes squinting, “I want to fight. You just know you’ll loose,”

“Want happened to encouragement on the team?” Lloyd asks, looking up at Jay,

“Ehem!” A sharp cough through the speakers above cause everyone’s gaze to shift, “Ehem! Ladies and gents, it’s time for round five!”

“Oh come on,” Kai pouts at his food, poking at the chicken and dumplings,

“Would the following Masters please make their way to their assigned arena; Speed, Gravity, Nature, Mind-,”

“I told you,” You glare up at Jay.

“And our last two, Earth and Natural Occurances!”

Your eyes snap over to Cole, who nearly dropped his fork at the mention of his element, “Remember!” Chen laughs, “Only one can remain,”

“IM not fighting you, Cole!” You turn to stare at the black ninja, arms out in alarm before they raise to your hair, “Oh, God, what if he knows? What if he set this up on purpose and tells my dad-,”

“No one knows, Y/N,” Cole instantly steps up to put his hands at your wrists, pulling them down from your hair, “We just gotta do what Chen tells us to do, and we’ll both make it out,”

“Only one remains,” You remind, “One of us has to take the fall,”

“Easy,” Cole shrugs, your brows pinching, “You grab the blade as soon as it starts. You continue on,”

“No,” You shake your head, “That’s not how this works. Give yourself up instantly and they’ll know,”

“Well I’m not letting you take that fall, princess,” Cole pulls back, when Garmadon knocks and hastily steps in,

“You two ready?”

“IM not fighting you,” You repeat your earlier statement, hands clenched as you and Cole stood feet apart in the arena, every elemental master watching above.

“We can draw it out until they call it a tie,” Cole reassures, not loud enough to where Chen could hear, “Quick- attack me, but not too hard,”

You clench your jaw, throwing a hand out so a small tornado formed and threw itself at your secret boyfriend, knocking him off his feet and into the stone wall behind him,

You flinch behind your mask, stomping a foot down so the earth cracked, where Cole jumps to the side, tossing a wall of rocks in your direction.

“I’m bored!” You hear Chen whine, “Release the Condrai Crushers!”

Your eyes snap to the side, yelping when three vehicles roll out of the tunnels in the wall, one zooming straight for you.

You feel Coles arm loop around your waist, tugging you to the side before his back presses to yours, watching the vehicles surround you. “I got your back,”

“I got yours,” You murmur, hand grazing his before you lunge forward, throwing your arms up so the earth raised into a ramp, the first vehicle leaping off said ramp and ramming into the stone wall,

Cole dodges the next vechile, lunging towards the third to drop a pile of rocks over top of the driver, causing him, too, to crash into the wall.

You huff out a relieved breath and high five Cole, grasping his hand with a smile beneath your mask,

“Enough!” Chen shrieks, so you released Coles hand and turned to Chen, “I know what you’re trying to do. And if neither of you will win, you will both loose!”

You watch in alarm as the ground began to drop in small holes, your feet moving backwards and into Cole, his hands at your hips in alert,

You jump to the side when the floor gives out beneath you, stumbling as you are left surrounded by darkness, eyes looking up at the blade at the top of the post,

“Chen’s right!” Cole calls, as you look to him, “One of us has to be win!”

“And it’ll be you!” You shout back, finger pointed, “Get the blade, Cole. I’ll be fine!”

Cole rushes up the post as you look down at your wobbling knees, Cole jumping down onto a stone still intact, tossing the blade so it hit flat against your chest, your hands stumbling to catch it.

“Winner!” Chen calls, as your eyes snap up to Cole, shocked, “Loser!”

“Cole-!” You lunge forward onto the next stone, barely catching yourself as the floor gave out beneath Cole, dropping him into the darkness below,

You clench your jaw and glare up at Chen, chucking the blade across the arena so it slid off the stones, into the pit beneath.

“YOU seemed really distressed during that battle,”

Your eyes flick up from your food, your fork jabbed into the noodles you received. Garmadon raises an eyebrow, and you look back down at your plate.

“What, am I not allowed to care about my friend?”

“Not with how touchy Cole had been,�� Lloyd sits down, eyes squinted, “What’s going on between you two? We both know if you had to go up against Kai or Jay you would have been fine with them giving themselves up,”

“Nothing is going on between us, Lloyd,” You snap, gaze hard, “Coles my best friend. We don’t know what happens when we loose, I didn’t want him to get hurt,”

“Y/N, I read you like an open book,” Your fathers tone softens, leaning forward, “Why didn’t you just tell me sooner?”

“Tell you what?” Kai cuts, and you drop your fork, pushing your plate forward,

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You ask, harshly, Garmadon frowning, “Nothing is going on between Cole and I. And if there was I wouldn’t tell you because I know how you both get,” You gaze shifts to Lloyd, before you slide out of the booth, hands clenched to stop the earthquake at the tips of your fingers.

“I got her,” Garmadon states, Lloyd and Kai sharing glances as Garmadon followed his oldest daughter.

YOUR hand wipes away the blue in your eye, hearing your fathers footsteps behind you, “Why are you following me?”

“How long?” Garmadon avoids, your arms crossing as you stopped, turning to face him with your head ducked,

“Almost a year,” You murmur, lifting your gaze to his,

“And why I am just now finding out?”

“Because you know how you are,” You squint, “Every boyfriend I had you scared away, and now that boys know who my brother is? They won’t even talk to me,” You hiss, shoulders dropping, “Cole is the only one who I seem to be able to control my powers around. I’m scared that without him here I’m going to accidentally kill someone with my powers,”

“You’ve trained,” Garmadon responds, your eyes rolling.

“Yeah, but I have your anger from when you were Lord Garmadon,”

You miss Garmadons flinch, but hear his sigh, “I just wished you told me,”

“I told mom,” You shrug, “She seems to enjoy the fact that I keep my relationship to myself. Guess that’s out of the box,”

“I won’t say anything to your teammates if that’s what you’re worried about,” Garmadon reassures, watching your fists release, as your brows,

“Thanks, dad,” You murmur, Garmadon smiling as he nods his head towards the dining area, hands behind his back.

“COLE!”

The Master of Earth turns away from helping Garmadon to his feet, stumbling back upon another figure ramming into him, mind quick to realize it was you,

“Whoa,” Cole laughs, weakly, eyes glancing at Garmadon before his arms wrap at your waist, “Dont worry. I’m fine,”

“You’re such an ass,” You lean back to hit his chest, hands then sliding to hold his face, “Dont do that again,”

“No promises,” Cole murmurs, looking over at Lloyd’s alarmed- “I knew it!”

Your hands drop as Lloyd points an accusing finger, Garmadon chuckling, “I knew something was going on between you two!”

“You’re just now realizing that?” Kai asks, so you spun to look at him, alarmed, “Oh don’t give me that look. You guys suck at keeping quiet at night,”

“Do what?” Garmadons smile drops into a scowl, your eyes widening as you take Coles hand,

“This is our cue to leave. We’ll meet you at the docks, guys,”

Lloyd crosses his arms, eyes squinting to his father, “Did you know about this?”

“Why do you sound like the father here?” Garmadon questions, side glancing his son, “Of course I knew. But go easy of them,”

“What?” Lloyd slacks, “Why?”

“An instinct,” Garmadons hands link behind his back, stepping forward to follow after you, “I have a feeling they’re good for each other,”

#cole brookstone imagine #cole brookstone x reader #cole brookstone #Cole brookstone one shot #lloyd garmadon imagine #ninjago lloyd x reader #lloyd garmadon x reader #lloyd garmadon #lord garmadon #Garmadon #ninjago #ninjago x reader #ninjago imagine #ninjago one shot

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

Text

Princess | JJ Maybank

Warnings; jealousy, mentions of drugs, and use of drugs.

Find my masterlist here

She was rising through the ranks on figure eight, and soon, she would overtake the one, the only, Sarah Cameron. It was infuriating, no one had heard of this prissy girl in a while, and here she was, already beginning to replace the blonde.

“Uh.” Sarah groaned, noticing how even her brother was flocking over you, even Topper had returned to the dark side after his helpful stunt.

“What’s wrong Cameron?” JJ asked her, following her eyeline, and carrying his gaze along it, until he found the centre of her irritable - a group of kooks, her own.

“The princess is back in town.” She groaned, noticing how you walked through your entourage, oblivious to any of the pogues that resided on this side of the island. It was as though you didn’t hold a grudge against their species, but that was her thing, you were just trying to copy her actions.

Hell, for all she knew, you’d hook up with a southsider too, and attend the parties at the boneyard as though you were one of their own.

She knew her attitude towards you was petty, but she just couldn’t help it. You now had everything that she had lost, she was even stared down by her dad and step mother, both of whom were mildly disappointed in the side that she had taken within the whole ordeal.

“I thought that was you.” JJ noticed how her mood had turned sour, and he was aware that it was his duty to cheer her up. If John B returned with their drinks, and saw that his girlfriend was displeased, he would be the one to take the blame as it was his company that was keeping her from boredom.

“That girl.” She pointed you out, JJ’s eyes scanning every dip and curve, each mark and mole, upon your body, memorising every inch of- “is the kook. Used to have the mantle of princess before I did. Don’t dirty your hands with her Maybank, she’s a spoilt brat, and whatever she wants, she gets.”

“A kook? Not my type.” He assured her, the whole form of your beautiful being crumbling in his eyes, all because of what you essentially were. A golden finger, in the dirt of his home.

🏹

The Cameron’s house was large, but you smiled, knowing that you lived in one with a bigger foundation, and more floors. Material items were value on the island, it gave way to status.

“Hi Mr Cameron.” You greeted him, with a pristine smile that would knock him dead. Rafe was beside you, content with your obliviousness to the things that he had done.

His father had told him to find a rich, pretty thing. They were the least suspecting ones, too occupied with spending cash and dolling themselves up. It is what he himself had done, after he had worked his way up to kook status, but the wife he now had, well she was as devious and power hungry as him. They fit perfectly.

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve heard a lot about you, not only from my son but practically the whole island. Is it good to be back?” He shook your hand, noticing the small smile slip onto his son’s face.

“It’s great, nowhere is quite like home.” The hierarchy on Outer Banks was its most predominant feature, no where else quite had an order that lacked most of itself in the same way.

“I need to talk to Rafe here for a moment, would you mind waiting here?” He expectedly asked, and once more, you could only plaster on a false expression, and happily nod.

“Not at all.” Was your reply, and as soon as they had disappeared, you were left awaiting for their return. You plucked at the skin around your nails, and tapped your foot, trying to reduce the enveloping silence that made you feel small and anxious.

Another person entered the room, making you slowly spin to greet them. It was Sarah, and a look of worry crossed over her face, it was quite amusing. The Sarah Cameron, was concerned for you.

“Rafe isn’t a good guy.” She spoke slowly, thinking that you were interested in her older sibling. It made you quirk your eyebrow in surprise, you had never expected her to talk about her family to you, or at all in general. “You can do a lot better.”

“Don’t worry Sarah, I don’t want him, nor do I want to be the so called ‘princess’ of this wealthy establishment. I hate figure eight, it sucks. It’s boring, it’s just parties here, and parties there, but they’re all sophisticated and you have to dress nicely. Sure, the luxury is great, the expectations of washing your hair every day, wearing perfume that literally burns my eyes, and having to dress so- ugh, it’s just gross. You can take the throne back if you want, it’s not too comfortable, it squeezes me in all th wrong places.”

Your paragraph of speech left Sarah in shock, you had been faking it all along. The laughs were all pretend, the smiles were all forced, and she no doubt had one thing left on my mind. “Then why, out of all the kooks, are you hanging it with my brother?”

Nonchantly you shrugged, a sparkle flaring in your eyes. “He thinks he’s gonna get laid, and so until he realises that he isn’t, and he can’t touch this hot bod, then I get free weed.”

“Well played y/l/n, well played.” Nobody had used Rafe and had to give nothing in return, yet you had found the perfect trick.

“He also thinks I’m a virgin, sooooo, my contract is going to last a while, I suppose.” She almost laughed at that, she wondered how you had given him that impression in the first place. Before you had moved, she had seen you makeout and consentually grope countless guys, leading them to dark corners and your empty car.

It wasn’t something that she had ever admit, but for the first time in her life, she thought that you’d make the perfect friend. You sounded just like a pogue, but instead you were living the ‘high life’, and rolling in the cash and smokes that were thrown your way, with no charge.

🏹

JJ on instinct, creased his face up at the sight of Sarah leaving John B and the others at the boneyard, only to walk over to an intruder. She had told him that she didn’t like her, however her stride and smile supposed otherwise.

“Who’s that?” John B leant over his friend’s shoulder, watching his girlfriend interact with a stranger.

“The kook princess.” JJ informed him, spitting the name out of his mouth, glaring at the kook that had the nerve to once again, walk onto his side of his island. And not only that, but to invite herself to the party.

“She got a name?” John B asked, and that was when JJ realised, that he didn’t know it. Before you had moved, you kept to your side of the island, but the times were changing, with relationships and friendships between pogues and kooks beginning. All you wanted was to be accepted, and if they didn’t like the fact that you were born a kook, then that was most definitely their problem.

“Hey, I’m so glad that you could make it.” Sarah greeted you, you shyly smiled, still not familiar with her being so polite to you. You’d notice her cast you the stink eye on more than one occasion, and how she would speak about you at school in the time prior to your move away.

“I still don’t understand why you invited me.” You honestly said, uncertain by her intentions. If she had other motivations, then you could deal with them, she wouldn’t be the first one to try and challenge you for your position. And either way, you didn’t want it, it were only a weight on your shoulders, but some kooks wanted you to remain their royalty, and so by their reputation, you did.

You pulled a blunt from your shorts pocket, and lit it, inhaling slowly and awaiting an answer from the relaxant. It calmed you, and made the thoughts of being the only kook here, excluding Sarah, go away.

“I want you to meet my friends.” She spoke, and you nodded, more entertained by the smoke that rolled out of your mouth than her intentions. Her hand grabbed your own, and she began to drag you through the sea of people, until she reached a small fire pit, where four people were sat.

You already knew of them, John B being the one on your side of the island the most. It of course was because of Sarah, and her successful attempts to seduce him, and sneak him into her room.

“This is y/n.” She told them, and you didn’t notice the way JJ focused on the weed that hung from the clasp of your fingers. He was surprised by the consumption you had of it, and watched intently as you went in for another puff.

You weren’t just a kook, you were a stoner. Perhaps the two of you had something in common after all, maybe you weren’t this spoilt brat entirely.

🏹

“Pass me the goddamn lighter J!” You beckoned at the blonde, who held the red automatic match out of your reach. On instinct, you crossed your arms, and poured, causing the boy to laugh.

“Don’t do that, you look like a spoiled kook.” His words only earnt himself a glare, and so he reached down, plucked your blunt between his fingers, and lit it. He took a puff before placing it between your own lips. “Technically we just kissed.”

“Geez, I really am spoilt.” You rolled your eyes, as the pair of you stood out of the chateau, where it was the two of you alone. Everyone else was inside, watching a movie, and they didn’t want to get high off the fumes, instead they’d rather remember the ‘cinematic details’, as Pope put it.

“It was a joke Princess.” He rubbed your head, messing up your hair, but he knew that you didn’t care. Appearances weren’t your most entailed feature, you only dressed up to the nines to please your parents. But here, with him and the rest of your friends, you could be yourself. You weren’t a kook or a pogue, instead you were just y/n.

“You need to stop going on about kissing me Maybank, otherwise I might think that it’s something you actually want to do.” You smirked, noticing how his cheeks reddened slightly, and the normally confident male gulped.

“Well...” before he could say more, you lightly pushed him, but he soon grabbed you, and the blunt out of your mouth. “Maybe I do.”

“Maybe I want you to as well.” You flirted with him, eyes darting between where he was licking his lips, and the blunt that was gently held in the pads of his fingertips. “Tell you what, if I gift you with a kiss, I get my property back.”

“Princess you gotta stop that, you can’t call me your property, I’m a person too babes.” You groaned at that, he knew full well what you were speaking about, but he had to be a tease in every conversation that the pair of you had.

“Shut your mouth pogue.” Your words weren’t what shut him up, instead you grasped the fabric of his baggy, sleeveless shirt, and pulled his mouth to your own, your tongue instantly prying its way towards his own, breaking through the seal of his lips.

Distracted, he dropped the blunt, and cupped both sides of your face. He was in heaven, finally he had given into the kook, and vice versa. He was glad to have learnt your name, and everything that you had to offer.

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fandom-monium · 4 years ago

Text

For the Holidays

Summary: In which Spencer does not want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

WC: 2.1k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), Morgan trying to be a good big bro (and wingman)

Spencer Reid does not hate Christmas.

“Reid, come on⎼”

“No.”

“Just listen to me.”

“I did, and it’s a stupid idea.”

No, really. Because hating Christmas would imply he didn’t care. Which he does.

Like when Garcia never fails to drag him into decorating the bullpen every year. Obnoxious Christmas music plays in the background as they bomb Hotch’s office, and it’s worth the smile on his face when he walks in the next morning.

It would mean hating Rossi and his extravagant dinner parties. And yeah, he always hosts but these are just as special if not more so. His mansion is decked in fairy lights and streamers, the food are traditional holiday recipes, and the whole place seems a little less massive.

And he doesn’t hate his breaks. He nearly spits out his coffee when Morgan grumbles about how he almost tripped and fell over from the ice. He has to scramble away as the older man bats at him.

Or when Prentiss drops off holiday-themed pastries? Mhm, just thinking of the ribbon-tied box makes him salivate.

Hating the Christmas card is completely out of the question. Henry and Michael make them every year for the entire team, and JJ makes an effort to shake them out carefully for. It has a boyish charm Spencer never had at their age, a mess of glitter and construction paper. He displays it on his desk anyway.

And you. It would mean hating all the various hot chocolate beverages you’ve made since December started.

Apparently, it’s serious business⎼the art of hot chocolate making. You’ve leaned against his desk, hands waving about as you try to articulate to him the relevance, going over anything and everything you can remember of its history and significance. Of course, he knows all of this already, but he likes you too much to stop you. He almost releases a loving sigh. Instead, he settles for nodding and grinning at you, and he doesn’t really get it but he loves it: the hot chocolate, your pensive expression as you await his critique, even though by now he’s sure you know he has no other comments except ‘delicious’.

He loves it all. He loves you⎼all of you guys. Obviously.

So, no. He does not hate Christmas.

But that doesn’t mean he loves it either.

Which is why, when Morgan leans against his desk, he greets him as normal, a smile forming on his lips as he sets his book down. There is no danger here, except Morgan’s guns. And the heinous green and red envelope between his fingers⎼

Where the hell did he get that.

Spencer’s blood froze. His collection of trauma was nothing compared to this.

Now here he is, packing away his things so he can go home to his warm, cozy apartment and order takeout like he does every year. He's not one for change. No need to break tradition.

But Morgan is acting like a child. Wait, no, even children are better behaved than this. Children at least give up faster.

“I’m telling you, it’s a good idea.”

“As a certified genius, I can say with all honesty, it is not.”

“I promise you it’ll be fine,” Morgan reassures him, voice soothing. The letter, colorful and bright and an eye sore, mocks Spencer. He wishes his reflexes were faster, so he can snatch the abhorrent cluster of sparkles and poorly printed holiday cartoons. And shred it.

Maybe if he glares hard enough, it’ll burst into flames.

“Morgan, my class hated me. The whole school hated me,” Spencer shoves another book into his satchel. It's harder than he means to, and he sends a silent apology to Stephen King; he usually handles his books with care. But not right now. Now, he's tired and exasperated and he just wants to curl up on his couch with The Doctor. "I'm sure I won't be missed."

"But you’re the life of the party!"

Spencer looks up.

Morgan winces, "Yeah, even I wouldn't believe me.” Spencer snorts, continuing to stuff his belongings into his satchel. Morgan’s relentless however. “But you deserve to show them up. You’ve got degrees⎼plural⎼and you're a hotshot FBI agent.”

“Are you not aware of the tragedy that is my high school social experience?”

“Oh, I'm very aware, and thank you for being vulnerable with me. But it's because I care that I’m telling you.”

Morgan’s hand falls heavy on his shoulder, making Spencer pause. He meets his gaze, the man’s expression solemn.

“You deserve to rub it in their faces until the only thing they can smell is your success.”

Morgan grins when that draws out a laugh from him.

Spencer huffs, “Shouldn't we be the bigger person here by not going?”

The older man grimaces, retracting his hand as if the idea offends him. “Fuck that. Be a show off! They deserve to be knocked down a peg after what they did to you in high school.”

Spencer bites his lip. Yes, he’s accomplished, and yeah, as Morgan said, he’s a ‘hot shot FBI agent’. But the memories surge in like a broken dam, cruel laughter and harsh words crashing into him as if he’s twelve years old again. He’s an adult now, so he doesn’t topple over from the impact like before, but the pain is a phantom limb, old and familiar, and leaves a pit in his stomach.

He was a child prodigy then. How would going back as he is now be any different?

Morgan's heart clenches when an unspoken pain flits across Spencer’s face, glossing over his eyes. He can't imagine how deep the emotional scars go, but he knows Spencer needs some form of closure from his past. So when he found the invite, he knew they had to seize the chance. If he wants to continue to move forward, Spencer has to learn to let go. And right now, this is his first class ticket. It’s why he’s pushing this so hard.

This is for Spencer.

But the doctor shakes his head, a strained smile tugging his lips. “Morgan, I had no friends. Even if I go, what am I supposed to do once I arrive? It'd be awkward enough as is.”

“True,” The older man contemplates, a light bulb going off as he snaps his fingers. “You know what you should do? Ask (Your Name) to go with you.”

“(Your Name)?” Spencer jolts, fumbling to catch his phone. Despite being a man of science, his eyes dart around, like you’re a demon summoned at the mention of your name. “Wha-what? Why?”

“They could act as your buffer. And you did say you wanted to be closer with them. This is the perfect opportunity,” Morgan shrugs. Like his suggestion is common sense, logical. Maybe it is.

But this is you they’re talking about. You would never. You’re too cool for a silly high school reunion.

At least, that’s what he’s convinced himself as Spencer’s face pinches. He catches his lip with his teeth. “Morgan, I appreciate the… thought, but I could never ask (Your Name).”

“Ask me what?”

… Oh no. You are a demon.

Spencer whirls around in time to see the glass door shut behind you. You stand there in all your poise and beauty, the fluorescent lights softening your expression. You're bundled up in a matching coat and scarf, the knitted beanie snug on your crown and clashing with your outfit (Garcia told you it’s not your Christmas present, but you’ve worn it everyday since). There’s sprinkles of snow all over you.

You’re not a demon, Spencer decides, even as you brush a clump off your shoulder, nose scrunched in annoyance. More like a snow angel.

You tilt your head curiously when Spencer doesn’t answer immediately. There’s a knowing look on his face as Morgan, realizing the poor guy probably won’t respond any time soon, steps up.

“(Your Name), I thought you went home already.”

You cross the bullpen. “I was. Garcia walked me down and I got to the courtyard. Then I realized she had me so distracted that I left my phone charger,” You rummage around your desk and without looking up, you reiterate, “So ask me what?”

Spencer blinks. “What?”

“You had something to ask me, right?”

Right. That. He runs his fingers through his hair awkwardly. “Actually, I don’t⎼oof.”

Morgan jabs his side, “Yes, there is something Reid needs to ask you.” He sends him a meaningful look.

“Shoot.” You nod to them before rifling through your desk drawers. Nope, not there. You card through files and office supplies, oblivious to the conversation Spencer and Morgan have with their eyes, shooting looks and mouthing at each other.

You bend over your desk as Morgan gestures, Ask them!

Spencer shakes his head vigorously, No!

Do it, or I'll do it for you, he mouths.

Spencer squints at him. You wouldn't.

Morgan smirks and Spencer's heart drops to his stomach. Before he can run, shout for help, literally anything, the man slings a buff arm around his shoulders, forcing Spencer to slightly bend down to his level, hugging him to his side.

He's trapped. Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Fuck.

“Reid is going to his high school reunion,” Morgan starts, biting back a grin when the nerd squirms against him. Both men boys watch, one excited and the other petrified as you disappear behind your desk.

“That’s nice.”

"Yeah. But all his classmates are older than him and married…“

“Uh-huh…” You scan the dark floors, half-listening as Spencer frowns at the unnecessary detail. He never told Morgan such a thing. He didn’t even know, so how would Morgan-?

“So, can you guys pretend to be a couple or something?”

Thud.

“What!?”

Luckily, neither of you notice the other’s surprise as Spencer chokes on air at the same time you let out a pained hiss.

Morgan lets him pull away, withholding a snicker. “You good, (Your Name)?”

“I’m okay!” Your head pops up from under your desk as you rub the top of your head. You blink owlishly. “I’m sorry, did you just ask me to pretend to be your partner?”

“Yes! But Reid’s partner,” Morgan emphasizes, slapping the doctor’s back hard enough he nudges forward.

You stand and Spencer straightens up, trying not to fidget as your gaze burns into his. You’ve known each other for quite some time now, and while Spencer likes to think he knows you pretty well, it bothers him when your expression becomes unreadable. He knows it shouldn't but it does. He’s a profiler, yet your thoughts are completely obscured by a mask. It only makes him more nervous than he already is.

His skin feels hot when your eyes trail over him, and he prays his scarf is enough to cover the flush spreading from his neck.

He's about to disintegrate when you finally answer.

"Okay."

His brow shoots up and his heart flips. You move away from your desk as he sputters, "Really? Are⎼are you sure? I don’t want to put you out of your way.”

“I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. Why?” You step closer, and he can’t breathe, not without it hitting your face. You stare him down the bridge of your nose, eyes narrowed. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

“What? No, of course not!”

You raise an eyebrow expectantly. “Then it’s settled? We’ll pretend to be a couple for your reunion thing?"

A beat of silence. Spencer realizes you're waiting for his confirmation. But panic rises like bile in his throat and he hesitates.

Maybe he should back out now, retract the entire conversation and take the embarrassment like a man. Tell you he was never planning to attend the stupid reunion because his classmates were (and probably still are) assholes. Honesty is key to any relationship after all.

Especially between coworkers. Ahem.

A flicker of movement and Spencer glances over your shoulder. Morgan nods frantically at him, teeth flashing as he grins wider than before. He gives him two thumbs up.

Maybe, for once, he should pull a Morgan and just vibe it.

Yeah. Yeah!

Swallowing, he nods to you, giving you his signature white-person smile because he's sure if he speaks he might blurt out something completely inappropriate. Like statistics on workplace relationships (they’re great reading material, okay).

Your lips quirk up. "Cool. Text me the details when you get the chance.”

You brush past him before he manages a reply, your footsteps fading. Morgan waggles his eyebrows at Spencer. Spencer blankly stares after you.

“What just happened?”

“You just got a date to your reunion. A fake date, mind you, but you’re welcome nonetheless,” Morgan smirks at him. “So, you got a plan, Pretty Boy?”

His face falls, and the hearts in his eyes⎼shit, had they always been there?⎼chip slightly.

He does not have a plan.

Deleted scene:

“Did you do it?”

“It went all according to plan, Mama.”

AN: I fucked myself over and wrote 7k+ and still counting. Now it’s an unplanned holiday mini series. This kind of stems from Bonding as this uses Mysterious!Reader. Also, I seem to be into pining (fuck established relationships, suffer in silenceee). Whatever holiday you celebrate, I hope you still enjoy this one shot!!

One of the biggest disappointments of CM: Spencer doesn’t confront his high school bullies. I read several fics of him doing so, but a lot of them have the bullies be just as much of an asshole as they were to him in the past, but he deserves more closure.

This will be my take on it. It’ll be a lot of pining but I hope to focus on the his hardships in a less angsty, dramatic way.

Hope you enjoy it!! There will be at least 3 parts?

Also, spread the usage of the term ‘partner’, which can be used for same-sex and opposite-sex relationships.

#spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #mgg fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg fic #my writing #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds

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noforkingclue · 4 years ago

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Teasing (Zemo x reader)

Summary: You weren’t sure how this game started between the two of you but you knew that yo weren’t about to lose to him.

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary

Warnings: None, just some teasing

Author’s Note: I had way too much fun writing this! I hope everyone enjoys it!

“You don’t trust me.”

You looked at Zemo over the top of your book and raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t say,” you said looking back down, “After tearing my friends apart you really expect me to?”

“And yet you’re here.”

“Only because Sam and Bucky asked me,” you said, “If they hadn’t asked me I wouldn’t be here.”

It was strange being in Zemo’s private jet. A small part of you was excited to fly in one but you had to keep reminding yourself who it belonged to. Sam and Bucky were both fast asleep but you stubbornly refused to even though you were exhausted. Someone needed to stay awake to keep an eye on Zemo.

“You can trust me,” Zemo said, breaking the silence, “You must be tired.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to calm yourself before looking over at the Baron. He was resting his chin on the palm of his hand and looking at you with a soft smile on his face. You shifted nervously under his gaze and didn’t miss the smile that pulled at his lips.

“How can I trust you after everything you’ve done?” you asked

Zemo didn’t reply. Instead he stood up and sat down in the seat opposite you. You pulled your legs up to your chest to avoid touching him and continued to glare at him. Zemo, ignoring your discomfort, reached over and plucked the book form you grasp. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed against yours and for a split second Zemo paused at the contact. However, he swiftly closed your book with a snap causing your to break out of the spell.

“You’ve lost my place.” You said

“It wasn’t a very interesting book,” said Zemo, “Sleep and when we land I will give you something more to your taste.”

He stood up and returned to his original seat taking your book with him. You shot him one last glare, which was received with a smug smile, before turning over and shutting your eyes. You were very tired and it didn’t help that Zemo was right.

It was a very boring book.

It was late but yet again you couldn’t fall asleep. There was something about this place that made it difficult to get to sleep, you didn’t know if it was jet lag or the fact that you had to be so close to Zemo. You didn’t trust him and you were waiting for the moment that he was stab you, Sam and Bucky in the back. Waiting for his inevitable betrayal made it hard to relax around him.

“You’re up late.”

You jumped as a smooth voice broke the silence of the night. You spun around and saw Zemo looking at you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. You just glared at him as you grabbed a mug and tried to look for the tea. A soothing cup of tea always used to help you get to sleep and you hoped that tonight would be no different.

“You’re looking in the wrong place.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, determined not to let Zemo get under your skin. You heard him walk towards you as you continued to ignore him. You got up on top of the counters and kneeling on them you opened the cupboards, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge your unexpected companion.

“It would be easier if I-“

“Be quiet.”

You didn’t mean for your voice to be so harsh. You looked down, embarrassed at how rude you were being, before glaring at Zemo. He was standing next to you and he didn’t seem surprised at your outburst. Instead he just smiled and held out his hand.

“I understand your distrust of me,” he said calmly, “But I wish you no harm.”

You looked at his hand in suspicion but when Zemo just wiggled his fingers you sighed. You reached down and took his hand and to your surprise Zemo helped you down off the counter. It wasn’t as if you couldn’t get down on your own but that little action made your heart flutter. You stumbled slightly and Zemo steadied you by putting a hand on your waist. As you looked up you realised just how close your faces were and you felt the blush creep up your neck.

Zemo remained impassive as he pushed you back slightly. You gave him a panicked look when you back hit the counter and you realised you were trapped. Zemo leant closer towards you and you felt his hot breath fan over your face. You could’ve believe the position you were in, you never imagined that you would find yourself trapped against the man who had done so many horrible things to your friends.

“The tea you were looking for.”

As quickly as it had happened Zemo had moved away. He pushed a container of loose leaf tea into your hands and you looked down at it in bewilderment. You tried not to think of the way Zemo’s hands clasped around your own as he gave it to you or the way they lingered there for just a second. When he finally stepped away you were left flustered as he laughed and called over his shoulder,

“Goodnight. I do hope the tea works.”

You jumped when the door to your room was opened and you looked over at Zemo who was standing in the doorway. The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before Zemo coughed and said,

“Apologises. I wasn’t expecting you to be in here.”

“This is the room Sharon gave me,” you responded dryly, “Who were you expecting to be in here?”

“I was looking for James and Sam.”

“Well they aren’t in here. You can leave now.”

However, instead of leaving Zemo walked closer to you. You looked at him in the mirror as he stopped right behind you. You were wearing a dress that Sharon let you borrow for tonight’s party and you were trying to get the zip done up. Without saying a word Zemo took the zip and pulling it up the last couple of inches you couldn’t get. It was a moment of intimacy that you weren’t expecting from him. His hands grazed your back as he did your dress up and you couldn’t deny the electricity between you.

“You look beautiful.” Zemo said quietly finally breaking the tension and dropping his hands

“Don’t think you’ll win me over by giving me false compliments.”

“I’d never lie to you.”

You froze as Zemo trailed a finger up your arm and you shuddered under his touch. He leant closer and breathed in the scent of your perfume. You shifted awkwardly under his gaze, the familiar sensation that there was a deeper meaning to it settled in your stomach.

“Wait here,” Zemo said at last, “There is something that I think you might want to try.”

Usually you would’ve snapped at him and left the room but something made you stay. You waited for what felt like an eternity until he returned with a woodened box. He opened it and your breath hitched when you saw a beautiful pearl choker. Zemo stood behind you and careful put it on. You heard the soft click of the clasp latching but to your surprise Zemo didn’t move away. He put his hands on your shoulders as the two of you made eye contact in the mirror.

“See,” he said quietly, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, “Doesn’t that look so much better?”

You looked over at him and your noses brushed together. Your eyes flickered down briefly to his lips before snapping back up to his eyes. Zemo smiled at this as one hand moved from your shoulders to the small of your back. Slowly he took a step towards you forcing you to walk back against the mirror. For a moment neither of you breathed, too caught up in each other’s gazes. Then, ever so slowly, Zemo leant forward. His nose brushed against yours and you felt his lips softly graze against yours as he said,

“We should get going. We don’t want Sam or James to come looking for you and see you in this position.”

He took a step back and walked towards the door. When he didn’t hear you follow him he looked over and beckoned you to follow him. You gritted your teeth as you marched towards him and pushed passed him. You don’t know why the bastard was making you so flustered but you weren’t liking the feeling that had settled in the pit of your stomach. The sooner you got away from him the better.

“Hey,” you called as Zemo ran passed the container you were in, “In here. I think that there’s something you’ll want in here.”

You smiled to yourself as you leant against the hood or the car and waited for Zemo to return. You knew that it wouldn’t be long until he found you. You looked up shyly when you heard approaching footsteps and saw Zemo standing at the entrance of the container.

“Well,” he said with a smirk, “Hello there.”

“Hi.”

He stopped directly in front of you and put his hands on the hood of the car, trapping you against it and himself. He looked you up and down before looking back up at your face. You just raised an eyebrow and adjusted the collar of his coat.

“We should get going,” you said innocently, “The others will need our help.”

“They can wait,” Zemo pressed closer towards you, “Right now there’s something more important that requires my immediate attention.”

“What’s more important than saving the lives of my friends.” you brushed an invisible speck of dust off his coat.

Zemo grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss against your knuckles, never taking his eyes off of yours. You had to fight the creeping blush and adjusted your legs so you were sitting in a more comfortable position. Zemo swiftly stepped in between them and moved his free hand up your thigh.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for someone to do this with me?” you asked

“Too long I imagine.” Zemo said quietly

“It’s funny. I’ve worked with people who throw themselves it dangerous situations that could result in their deaths but as soon as you mention something like this,” you gestured towards the car, “They’re suddenly worried about my safety.”

“They shouldn’t,” said Zemo as he brushed along your jawline, “You are more than capable of looking after yourself.”

“And that’s what I like about you.”

Zemo tensed in shock as you continued,

“You don’t treat me like some fragile little doll that might break. You seem to know me, know my limits. You know exactly what, and who, I want.”

“Then tell me what you want.”

“It might be easier if I just show you.”

Zemo’s eyes darkened at your words and a playful smile pulled at your lips. Your hands sunk into the fur lined collar of his coat and you pulled him towards you. Zemo licked his lips as he openly gazed at your slightly parted lips. His hand moved from your jaw to the back of your head and he moved closer. You leant forward and gently brushed your lips against his. You heard a soft moan come from him and felt the hand in your hair tighten as he locked eyes with you once more and-

“Huh?”

The jingle of keys made Zemo pause and pull away from you. You gave him a playful smile and jangled the keys at him. Zemo looked between them and you and for once it seemed you had caught him off guard.

“I always wanted to ride in a sports car,” you said as you slipped out from Zemo’s arms and sat in the passenger seat, “But nobody would take me. Why,” you gave him another innocent look, “What were you expecting?”

“Nothing.”

Zemo’s tone was harsh and clipped and a small part of you registered that you might’ve gone too far. Still, you looked at his annoyed expression, it was worth it for what he had done to you.

“Alright,” you muttered when you heard someone bang on your bedroom door, “Alright I’m coming.”

You had only opened the door a crack when Zemo pushed it open. He glared at you for a second then slammed the door shut and grabbed you. He pinned you against the door and leant in close. For a moment neither of you spoke, you just took in each other, until Zemo said,

“What was that you were doing earlier?”

“Just the same thing you were doing to me.” You spat back

Zemo’s face went eerily blank and for a second you became worried. Then he smiled at you and roughly pressed his lips against yours. You closed your eyes a moaned into the kiss, not caring about the please smirked you could feel against your lips. Your hands moved to wrap around Zemo but before you could touch him he grabbed your hands and pinned them next to your head. Zemo broke the kiss and gave you a teasing smile.

“What’s wrong?” he asked mockingly, “Don’t you like this?”

You tried to free yourself but Zemo held on tightly. He leant closer and whispered,

“Careful. As tempting as it might be I have no intention of bruising you at the moment. I do not expect Sam or James would be too please with either of us if they saw that.”

Zemo leaned forward to claim your lips once again but this time you were quicker. You turned your head to the side and Zemo kissed your cheek. He sighed in annoyance and said,

“Do you really want to play this game?”

“You’re the one who started in.”

In a flash you were pulled away from the door and flung onto the bed. You didn’t have time to move before Zemo was on top of you. He swiftly clasped your wrists in one hands before leaning down and saying,

“I’m not planning on letting you out of this bed for the rest of the night. I think you need to be punished for your actions earlier, don’t you?”

You didn’t have time to respond before Zemo had once again gave you another passionate kiss. You tried to free your hands but Zemo gave a warning squeeze. You were going to spend the rest of the night under him and if you were being completely honest, you weren’t complaining about it.

#fanfiction #mcu #fatws #reader insert #zemo #zemo x reader

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narumi-gens · 4 years ago

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A Last First Kiss

Miya Atsumu x Reader Headcanons

notes: I felt really bad about leaving you guys with so much Atsumu angst in those fake wedding date hcs that I decided to write some proper, fluffy New Girl inspired hcs. warnings: mentions of past infidelity but otherwise happiness guaranteed

💋 It all started when you walked in on your boyfriend of four years cheating on you. With literally nowhere else to go (considering you had moved in with him and it was his name on the lease), you had shown up on Atsumu’s doorstep in a daze, asking if you could stay in his spare room for a few days while you tried to come to terms with your new reality, which is that you were now single and homeless.

💋 You and Atsumu had always been friendly, even if you had never exactly been friends. He was always the guy that you could have a laugh with in a group setting, but you never knew him well enough to actually hang out just the two of you. In fact, the only reason you even ended up at his place was because you had dropped your purse (which contained your phone, wallet, cash, and credit cards) on the living room floor in pure shock when you saw some woman who wasn’t you with her mouth around your boyfriend’s dick, and Atsumu was the only person you knew who lived within walking distance.

💋 A few days ends up turning into six months. This means that Atsumu is there when you cry so much that it feels like the tears will never end. He’s there when you monopolize the living room TV, sitting through the romcom marathons without complaint. He’s there when you fill the freezer with so much ice cream that you have to move everything else in it into the fridge. It also means that he’s there when you decide that it’s time to stop moping and get back into the dating pool -- and it doesn’t go well.

💋 It’s the first date you’ve gone on since the break-up. You spend all day freaking out because this is the first first date you’ve had in over four years. Atsumu looks at you like you’re crazy when you demand he tell you what young people do on first dates these days.

💋 You’re so worried and incapable of doing anything that Atsumu’s the one who has to pick out your outfit, assuring you, “Look, this guy’s the lucky one, not you. He’s the one who needs to impress ya, not the other way ’round, got it? Now go get lucky!” before he sends you off on your date with a cheesy but encouraging thumbs up.

💋 But it all ends up being for naught because four hours later, you trudge through the front door, face buried in your hands, embarrassment so great that you’re trying to will yourself to just disappear into nothingness. Atsumu watches in confusion as you shuffle into the living room, grab the blanket off the back of the couch, wrap it around yourself until you’ve bundled yourself up in a blanket burrito, and collapse next to him pathetically.

💋 “How was yer date?” he asks and you just let out a whine that’s so high-pitched, Atsumu worries it might actually damage his hearing. He tries to console you, assuring you that it was just a first date and there are plenty of other fish in the sea and that the hardest part is over now because at least you’re now back out there. He continues to feed you well-meaning platitude after well-meaning platitude until finally you can’t take it anymore.

💋 You peek your eyes out at him from the end of your blanket burrito just enough to give him a glare that shuts him up. “So, what happened? Was he a jerk? Was he boring? Was he ugly?” You sigh heavily and fully pop your head out of your cocoon, your hair now sticking up at odd angles.

💋 “No, he was great and we had so much fun together,” you tell him, but the tone of your voice says otherwise. Atsumu tosses you a confused, “Then what’s the problem?” that makes your face scrunch up in embarrassment as you let out another whine as you replay how the date ended in your mind.

💋 “He was such a gentleman and he was so nice. We were downstairs in front of the building and I could tell he wanted to kiss me and he started to slowly lean in and I freaked out and screamed then I gave him a punch to the shoulder, bowed, shook his hand, and called him ‘buddy’ before I literally ran inside,” you blurt out, all in one breath. You open an eye to look at Atsumu, who’s staring back at you with pure horror written on his face.

💋 “Why? Why would ya do that?” he finally manages to ask once he’s over his shock and you groan, wiggling in your burrito until you can pull your arms free so that you can hide your face in your hands for the umpteenth time. “If ya don’t want to kiss him, then don’t kiss him!”

💋 “But I thought I did wanna kiss him! I thought I was ready!” you groan. “But when he was leaning in, I just...” you trail off and when Atsumu prompts you to continue, you just sigh wearily before dropping your head back to look up at the ceiling tiredly. “You wouldn’t get it.”

💋 “Try me,” he offers and although you refuse to look at him out of embarrassment, you can hear his sincerity. You let out another, quieter sigh. “I thought I was gonna spend the rest of my life with Shinji. I wanted to it all with him -- get married, have babies, grow old together.” You glance over at Atsumu and see how his expression has softened. “And when I saw Taichi coming closer, all I could think about was how I couldn’t see myself doing any of those things with him.”

💋 He’s quiet as he takes in what you’ve just said, thinking over your words before he gives you a kind smile that puts you at ease. “Don’t ya think yer worrying too much over this? It’s just a first date. If ya wanna kiss him, then just kiss him. Maybe you’ll feel that magic when ya do. Live in the moment a little.”

💋 "Look, promise you won’t think I’m being stupid?” you ask softly and you wait for him to nod before continuing. “I want the next first kiss I have with someone to be the last first kiss I ever have. Even if it’s not actually the case and even if things don’t end up working out. In the moment when it’s happening, I want it to feel like it could be my last first kiss. And I just...didn’t feel that with Taichi. It just felt like any other first kiss.”

💋 You wait for him to laugh or tell you that you’re overthinking things. You wait for him to say that all the romcoms you’ve been watching have distorted your sense of reality. You wait for him to tell you that you just need to get laid. But in the six months that you’ve been living with Atsumu, you’ve learned that he never does what's expected.

💋 “I don’t think that’s stupid,” he says simply after a few moments and now it’s your turn to be shocked. The look he’s giving you is just so kind that it makes your heart flutter happily in your chest, the disastrous end to your date slipping further and further into the recesses of your mind.

💋 “Y’know, we’ve known each other awhile now, but it’s only since ya moved in that I’ve realized how soft ya are.” Soft. He says it thoughtfully. He’s not teasing you or pointing out some sort of perceived flaw. The word sounds almost...fond. “Yer heart’s soft.”

💋 The statement hangs over the living room, but it doesn’t feel heavy or oppressive. It feels warm and comforting. It feels like someone finally understands you. He then drops his hand on top of your head and smooths down your messy hair affectionately. “Don’t feel stupid for wanting to be soft, okay?”

💋 The sudden lump in your throat keeps you from being able to say anything in response, so you beam back at him and nod your head, furiously blinking away the tears that you can feel threatening creeping up on you. He smiles back in return and brushes your hair behind your ear before he stands up. “I gotta get up early tomorrow for practice,” he says. “Ya gonna be alright?”

💋 “Yeah, I will,” you assure him, meaning it wholeheartedly. But then you smile at him sheepishly and hold out your hands. “Can you help me out of this blanket though? I think I’m stuck.” He rolls his eyes dramatically, but makes no other complaint as he takes your hands in his and helps you stand.

💋 He then lets go of one of your hands to grab onto the end of the blanket, using the hand holding yours to slowly twirl you around twice until the blanket comes fully loose and he can drop it onto the couch. Slightly dizzy, you clutch his forearm with your free hand and take a moment to reorient yourself with a soft giggle.

💋 When you look up at him, you see the same softness in his eyes that he seems to see in you and it catches you by surprise. Your heart starts to beat a little more quickly in your chest, but you don’t know why. All of a sudden, you realize how little space there is between the two of you -- only a couple of inches at most.

💋 And then his lips are on yours -- needy, hungry, desperate, soft. The kiss feels like a flash fire. Where only moments ago, you were feeling warm and content and fuzzy, you’re now at the mercy of a white-hot heat that starts in the pit of your stomach and spreads out so rapidly that it’s consumed your entire being in a millisecond.

💋 His arms are wrapped around your waist, pulling you close before one slides up your back and he buries his fingers in your hair, quickly running them through your stands. Then both hands are running down your sides before they’re both on your back once again, his touch warm through the fabric of the dress he picked out. It’s like he’s so eager to feel every inch of you that he can’t keep his hands in one spot -- he needs to feel all of you.

💋 It’s not even that deep of a kiss, his tongue only briefly darts out to run over your bottom lip before it returns back to his mouth. Instead it’s really just his lips moving against yours, hinting at what more might feel like but never going far enough to actually let you have it. And it just makes you more desperate as you return the kiss.

💋 But just like a flash fire, it’s over almost as quickly as it began. He gives you one, two, three more kisses before he’s pulling away, your foreheads resting against each other, his breath hot on your face where it mingles with yours as you both pant for air. Then, he leans in and gives you one final, chaste, soft kiss before he meets your glazed eyes.

💋 “A last first kiss, huh?” he murmurs, his voice rough and low and threatening to ignite the fire all over again. His hands slowly slip from you down to his sides and you miss the warmth of his touch already. You can only dumbly nod in return, your breathing still shaky as you try to catch it. The corners of his lips twitch upwards, something fun and mischievous and affectionate and...happy written plain across his face.

💋 “Goodnight,” he says gently and once again, all you can do is nod, still too dazed to do anything else. He seems to understand your plight because you can see how his eyes are shining with mirth. But his flushed face is a clear giveaway that he’s just as affected as you are.

💋 You’re still frozen in place as you watch him walk away until his broad shoulders disappear from sight and you hear the door to his bedroom close. Slowly, you raise a trembling hand up to your face and brush your fingers against your still-tingling lips, where you can still feel the ghost of Atsumu’s.

💋 Your mind is racing, but there’s only one thought that you’re able to fully grasp onto, desperate not to let it go as a small, soft smile appears on your face. You want more than anything for that to be the last first kiss you ever have.

#miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq hc

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scuttling · 3 years ago

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Promise

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 5,844 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Biting, Hickies, Dom/sub, Daddy Kink, Exhibitionism, Coming In Pants, Dry Humping, Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Voyeurism, Praise Kink, Public Sex, Oral Sex, Oral Fixation, Unprotected Sex, Tie as Restraint, Dirty Talk, Mention of Somnophilia Summary: Two weeks after the events of 'Patient', Spencer is feeling a little bit like a third wheel. Sophie and Aaron come up with a plan to show him how much he means to them. Collection: Part 4 of 5 of Present, Perfect, Patient, Promise, Pretend series Note: This is a previously published work from A03, just moving it over to tumblr. Link to A03 or read below! For the last couple of weeks, Spencer has almost exclusively been staying the night at Aaron and Sophie’s. The three of them arrive at work together every day, go to lunch together every day, leave together every day, and no one has commented on that or found it strange in any way. He’s honestly a little disappointed; he’s happy, in love, and this is arguably the best time of his life, stuff he would most like to share with other people, but they either don’t notice or simply don’t care. It's frustrating.

He wears one of Aaron’s ties to work on a Friday, because he’d been in such a hurry to throw some clothes into his bag during a rare pit stop to his apartment that he didn’t grab enough, and he figured no one would notice, since they haven’t noticed anything else up to this point.

However…

“Hey. Hotch has a tie just like that, doesn’t he?” Garcia asks when he’s down in her cave looking over some age progression renderings she made for him. He looks down, runs his fingers over it, shrugs.

“Does he? I didn’t realize.” She sweeps her gaze over his face, tilts her head like she’s trying to figure him out, but ultimately, she just smiles.

“Maybe not. I see a lot of ties around here, you know? Anyway, see how…”

Later that day, he takes some case files up to Aaron’s office—purely for make out purposes—and they’re kissing pretty hot and heavy when Aaron slips his fingers around the knot of his tie and twists it, so it tightens around the base of his throat. He moans, a little startled, and very turned on, and Aaron hums against his lips.

“So fucking gorgeous when you wear my clothes, Spencer, but especially this. It’s so tempting, draws my attention right to your pretty throat.” His lips move there, brushing tenderly up the side, and he bites down gently, not enough to leave a mark, but enough that he feels it in his dick. “If I had my way, you’d be constantly covered in bruises here. Everyone would look at you and know you belong to someone.” Spencer licks his lips, exhales deeply.

“I wish you could,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers through the hair at the back of Aaron’s head. “Maybe—maybe just one?” He’s lightheaded at the thought, both of having Aaron’s hot mouth tease a bruise there and of being seen for the desperate, needy slut he is. Of the whole team, the whole office, the whole world knowing he is taken, happily, regularly, by not one but two beautiful human beings.

Aaron presses his hand against Spencer’s cock, which is extremely hard, giving away all of his secrets, and he huffs against his throat.

“Yeah. You want me to suck and bite your neck until you’re purple and aching, and then you want to walk right downstairs and show it off, don’t you? No doubts about who gave it to you, about who your daddy is. About who you belong to.” He nods, breathing heavily.

“Yes. I want them to see, I want them to know.” Aaron walks him back so he’s leaning against the edge of the desk, and he runs his hands slowly up and down Spencer’s body, brushing his lips so softly over his throat. It feels good, but it’s not what he wants, and Aaron knows it, the tease.

He shifts his hips, rubs against Aaron for friction, and when he finds his cock he gasps, fists his hand into Aaron’s jacket. He lifts his leg, pressing against Aaron’s thigh, and gets them to line up beside each other, sliding easily due to the fabric of their suit pants.

“Oh, fuck, Spencer,” he groans, hands falling to the desk on either side of his body. “Needy boy.” He tugs down the collar of his shirt a little more, bites down hard at the base of this throat, and Spencer moans, clutches at him, rubbing frantically.

Aaron’s mouth is hard, sucking deeply, and Spencer knows that what he’s doing is actually breaking blood vessels beneath his skin, but it feels like he’s sucking the life out of him, leaving him dizzy and achy and desperate for release. He twists his fingers in Aaron’s hair, tight, and humps his hips up against his hard body, his hard cock, and he comes so powerfully he sees stars, panting and shaking through it until he leans his weight back against the desk, his energy depleted.

Aaron pulls back, looks at him with dark, lustful eyes, and bends for a hot, wet kiss.

“Perfect, beautiful boy,” he rasps when the kiss breaks, and he unclasps his belt, takes out his cock, looks down at Spencer’s mouth; it’s all he needs to do to get Spencer on his knees, and he’s sure he looks filthy—his face is hot, and his collar is still loose, with what must be a huge, dark hickey blooming there—because it only takes a few seconds for Aaron to spill down his throat, his hand under Spencer’s chin while he swallows him down.

He helps him to his feet, and they kiss, work to right each other’s clothes and hair even though Spencer feels like his face is the real problem—his eyes half-lidded, his mouth slack and his tongue peeking out the way it always does when he’s satisfied. Aaron looks at him affectionately, probably at the dopey look he’s so capable of putting on his face, and he kisses him again, softer, then brushes his lips over his nose.

“I love you. Want me to come down and make you a tea?” he asks softly, so sweet, but Spencer just shakes his head, swallows.

“No, that’s okay. I know you’re busy, and I’ve taken up enough of your time.” Aaron sighs, sweeps a hand gently over his cheek.

“My time is your time. You’ve taken nothing I didn’t want to give.” He kisses him fully on the mouth, and Spencer hums happily against his lips. “Is there anything I can do for you before you head back to work? Or, I guess you should probably head to the bathroom first, to get cleaned up,” he amends, and he looks down at Spencer’s crotch like he would prefer to clean it up himself, slowly, with his tongue. Spencer shakes his head.

“No, thank you. I’m really alright. I love you,” he murmurs, kissing his lips, “and I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.” Spencer slips past him, out the door, and when he’s done cleaning up in the bathroom, he looks at himself in the mirror; he thinks he looks wrecked, debauched, but maybe that’s only because he knows that he is. He pulls down his collar, looks at the huge, dark, angry bruise Aaron left, smiles, and covers it back up.

Mostly.

When he takes his seat, Sophie looks up at him, sweeps her eyes over his face, his throat, and he can see her breath pick up. God, she’s so easy to get going, it’s not even fair. She makes eye contact, swallows, looks up at Aaron’s office, and then stands, locks her computer, and heads upstairs.

About ten minutes later, she’s back; he looks up at her, and because he looks at her so much, he notices all the little things that have changed—her hair, previously falling in voluminous waves, looks a little flat, and her chest is red, flushed, and when she logs back into her computer, he notices the edge of a purple bruise on the soft spot between her neck and shoulder, barely concealed by the white v-neck t-shirt she wears. She meets his eyes, sweeps her tongue over her lips, and buries herself in work.

He’s hard, again.

No one notices, again. They take a case in Orlando, a serial killer case like many before it, nothing so out of the ordinary that anyone should be particularly on edge, but Spencer is, and Sophie can’t figure out why. He’s retreated into himself, not as talkative, and snippy, when he does speak, so she doesn’t start the car right away when they climb in, hopes for a little partner/girlfriend heart to heart before they go canvassing for leads.

“Spencer. Hey,” she says softly, pressing her hand to his cheek when he won’t make eye contact. “Baby, what’s going on? You’ve been distant all day. I’m worried about you.” He presses his face against her palm, looks up at her with sad eyes.

“I hate when we’re on a case, and I know that you and Aaron will get to sleep together, and I’m stuck in my room by myself, all alone.” She sighs, because that can’t be all it is, but it makes her heart hurt anyway.

“Is that the only thing bothering you?”

“It’s not just that, it’s the bigger picture. You two are… out, for lack of a better word. People see you, they know you’re together, they know you’re in love. I feel like the third wheel, sometimes. People don’t know that I mean anything to either of you. They don’t know I love you, or that you love me, that we…” He shakes his head, presses his lips together like he wants to cry. “That when the three of us make love, I feel like the man I’m supposed to be. That I feel really seen for the first time in my life.” She puts her other hand on the side of his face, brings him closer for a slow, loving kiss, breathes against his lips.

“I’m sorry, honey. You’re right, none of that is fair to you, and we haven’t been very thoughtful or attentive to your needs around this. I promise things will change. I don’t know how, exactly… It’s complicated, I know you know that. But you deserve to be just as seen as Aaron and I are, so we’ll find a way to make it work.” She rests her nose against his, softly kisses his lips. “I love you so much, Spencer, and so does Aaron. You aren’t a third wheel, we’re all equal.” He nods against her cheek.

“I know, I do, and I love you both so much. I don’t want to make your lives harder, but I want more. I need more.” She pulls back, brushes her fingers through his hair, runs a soothing hand over his arm.

“Of course you do, and we want that too. You’re not asking for anything we shouldn’t have already given you.” She feels guilt like a pit in her stomach at the fact that they didn’t think of this, try to get ahead of it. Poor Spencer. “It will work out, baby, I promise. We’ll find a way. And I’ll sleep in your room tonight,” she adds, knowing it’s a small comfort, but she hopes it makes him feel better until they can make the big things right. “I’ve slept in your room before, when things were hard, it’s not like it’s a big deal.” He closes his eyes, nods tightly.

“Right. No one needs to know.” She frowns, because that’s not what she meant, but he pulls back, buckles up his seatbelt, and she does the same, at a loss for what she can do in the meantime to make him feel seen.

When she’s in Aaron’s room that night, getting ready to duck into Spencer’s, she has an idea, runs it by him. His face abruptly goes serious, dark, and he takes her face in his hands, kisses her roughly.

“Are you sure? Anyone could see—it’s not like we’re in a low-traffic city,” he warns, but she nods. She’s pretty sure, after talking to both of them, that this is something that Spencer would enjoy, that would maybe make him feel a little bit better about it all. She wants to do it.

“Yeah. We’re the only ones on this side of the hall, so I figure that’s as safe as we’ll get, in terms of the team, and… I’m okay, with anyone else. If it will make him happy.” She grips the hair at the back of his head, presses their foreheads together. “You’ll be there for me, right?”

“I promise,” he murmurs, caressing her face, and she sighs against his lips.

“Thank you. I love you.” He says it back, kisses her, and she takes a step back, grabs her stuff, walks to the door. “I’ll text you, let you know when we’re ready.”

“Okay. Remember your words. Use them if you need them.” She nods, leaves the room, knocks lightly on Spencer’s door.

“Hey, honey,” she greets, and he steps aside, takes her bag, closes the door behind them. She pulls him down for a gentle, slow kiss, smooths her hands over his body like she’s trying to commit him to memory. “Hmm. How are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” he says with a soft smile. “I was thinking about earlier, in the car, and I wasn’t fair. It makes sense that people can’t know until we figure things out; I shouldn’t have been so harsh with you.” She thanks the heavens above for the perfect segue, because she’d been struggling with a way to explain her idea without sounding like a babbling, horny idiot.

“It makes sense that the team can’t know,” she corrects, and she leans up for another kiss. “Or people we work with. But other people, people we don’t know, that would be fine, right?” He tilts his head, looks a little confused by her question.

“What do you mean? Like, if we went on a date together? And people saw us?” She nods a little.

“Yeah, something like that. Or even… you know. If people saw you kissing me, or they saw us having sex. That would be okay, wouldn’t it?” Her heart is racing, and his breathing picks up, she can tell; she can tell her words affect him just by the set of his mouth, the way his hands move to her hips and tighten there. It’s so fucking hot.

“Yeah, yeah. That would be okay. Would that be okay with you?” Aaron was right then, when he’d suggested that their boy might be harboring a hidden exhibitionism kink; she smiles, pleased, proud of their man for noticing.

“It would be okay with me,” she murmurs, pressing her lips to his. “There’s a chaise couch thingy on the balcony out there. I thought maybe you and I could put on a show for Aaron; and if someone else is out on their balcony, and they happen to see us, all the better. They’ll see how horny you make me, how hard and loud I come for you. How much I love you, need you, want you.” Her last words are spoken directly into his ear, and he shivers, lifts her up and presses her back against the wall.

“Fuck. Yeah, I want to.” His mouth moves frantically over her throat, his hands on her back, and he makes sure she’s supported before moving to pull her shirt over her head, so he can kiss and lick and squeeze her exposed tits. “Oh, god.”

“Yeah, Spencer. I can’t wait to feel you, to show the world what you mean to me. What you do to me.” He’s panting, and he puts his hands on her again, moves them to the bed, lays her back on it.

“Sophie, so good for me, always giving me so much. Always pleasing me, always.” She tips her head back, moans, and when he drags her pants down her legs, then her panties, she sighs, horny, happy, pleased. A little nervous. But she wants to do this for him more than anything.

“Let me text Aaron real quick,” she says, but she pulls his shirt off first, pushes down his pants and boxers, wants to see him, feel him. He hands her her phone, and her fingers are trembling a little as she types out the text.

Showtime.

Spencer is, of course, as sweet and kind and sexy as ever, when he lays her naked body back on the chaise, which is directly across from Aaron’s balcony. He looks into her eyes, makes sure she’s okay, and she nods, a signal to begin.

They very mindfully keep their eyes on each other, don’t pause to try to seek out Aaron—she knows he’s there, even though it’s dark, because he said he’d be—or to check for anyone else. They both decided it would be better that way.

Both hands cover her breasts, rubbing slow circles, stimulating her nipples, and she moans softly, letting her head fall back, moving her arms up on either side of it. He kisses her mouth tenderly, then trails his lips down her throat, between her breasts, down her stomach; he dips his head low, takes a gentle taste of her slick, throbbing pussy, and then one of his hands leaves her chest to press open her thigh, giving himself more room to work.

“So fucking beautiful. Wet and open—you really want me, don’t you, sweet girl?” His voice is a little louder than it would normally be, and she quickly realizes he wants to make sure it carries over to Aaron, so he can hear them as well. She tries to remember to be really loud, even though it goes against her instincts.

“Oh, yes.” He spreads his fingers where they rest on her tit, then pushes it up, harder, and she moans. “Mmmh, yeah.”

“So perfect for me. Horny, slutty, gorgeous girl for daddy.” She snaps her eyes shut, bites into her bottom lip; she hadn’t counted on him bringing out the daddy tonight, while they’re doing this. It makes her feel dirty, and extremely aroused.

“Yes, daddy. I’m so horny, s-so slutty,” she stumbles when he slides his tongue between her lips, then up over her aching clit. “Oh, god, yes. Yes, daddy.”

He takes his time, goes slowly, slips his tongue through her folds, nibbles them with careful teeth, and she is just a mass of flesh and nerve endings sinking into the sofa, squirming under his hands, whimpering and moaning at his every lick, touch. It feels like everything is moving in slow motion except her heart, her heaving chest, and her brain is already deliciously empty, like static on a broken television—it’s either her mind’s way of protecting her from the anxiety she knows she should be feeling at being this exposed, doing something so, so illegal and filthy and wrong, or it’s just Spencer.

She thinks it might actually be just Spencer.

He looks up at her from between her legs, so gorgeous, flushed, turned on, and he presses two fingers into her open mouth, which only makes her sink deeper into the place that’s all pleasure and need and wanting to please him. He pumps them into her mouth a few times, then pulls them out and sinks them deep into her pussy, making her arch and sigh.

“There you go, baby, that’s it,” he praises, dragging them in and out, in and out, in and out. He leans in to press the point of his tongue against her clit, divine sensation right where she wants it, and she comes around his fingers, moaning and gripping the edge of the cushion in her hands. “That’s a good girl. Good girl.” He shifts up, moves his hand up her body, slips his wet fingers back into her mouth so she’ll suck them clean.

She’s never felt so good in her entire fucking life. Aaron has been trying to resist shoving a hand into his boxers and jerking himself off, but his willpower is wearing thin.

Watching Spencer bring Sophie off with his mouth and his hands was... stimulating to say the least; she dropped into subspace so quickly and completely, he could see it from even a balcony away. Spencer is getting better and better at dominating her every day, better than him, even, because he has a refinement, a subtle nuance, that Aaron hasn’t found on his own quite yet.

It’s when he fucks her, though, that Aaron starts to lose his resolve. Maybe it’s because he’s truly just a spectator for the first time in their relationship, or maybe it’s because he knows—even if they don’t—that they’ve amassed a small audience, but he spreads his legs, rubs his hand over the bulge in his boxers, tries to keep breathing.

The tie thing is a tease, just truly unfair.

Before Spencer pushes into her, he reaches a hand down, pulls out a tie—one of Aaron’s, the one Spencer had worn to the office the day he’d marked him—and wraps it around Sophie’s wrists, knotting it tightly to keep her hands together, and he tucks it into the arm of the chaise so she’ll keep them above her head. She doesn’t make a sound, just stares up at him, subservient and willing, and it makes Aaron’s head spin. He can’t imagine what it does to Spencer.

With a couple of kisses, he’s inside her, up on his knees, his hands on her hips, and she wraps her thighs around his waist, lifts her ass up, and lets him pound inside.

“Oh, daddy. Fuck me,” she moans, and he licks his lips, pulls her against him with each thrust so he’s deep, fully sheathed inside her. “Yeah, just like that. All the way inside me. Tight, but I love it,” she pants, and he squeezes his eyes shut—so he won’t come, Aaron knows.

“Yes you do. Such a good little slut for daddy, taking my big cock even though it's tight. Your pussy’s mine, and I take what I want, don’t I?”

“God, yes. Take it, take it,” she mutters, and Spencer slowly brings his hands up to cover her throat, because she needs grounding and they can both tell. He slides his hands up and down her throat, not choking, just rubbing her there, and she moans, a wrecked and dirty sound. “Will you come inside me, daddy? Fill me up? Can I sleep with it inside me?” Aaron swallows hard, puts his hand in his pants and starts jerking his swollen, leaking cock. Spencer hums.

“Yes, baby, I’ll fill you with come. You can sleep with it. Maybe I’ll wake up in the night, stiff, and pump some more into you while you sleep. Would you like that?” She moans, bucks hard against him, nods.

“Yes, daddy. I’ll take whatever you give me. You do what you want to me. I’m just your pussy, just here for you to use. Use me.” He thrusts into her faster, his hands tight on her hips again, and he comes, snapping his body hard against hers.

Aaron knows he gets quickly spent and tired, but he jackhammers his cock into her a dozen times anyway, determined, and she comes calling Spencer, her hips stuttering against his until they both slow and settle. Aaron comes too, just a quiet grunt followed by a long, satisfied sigh.

Spencer unties her arms, kisses her wrists, and picks her up; it’s easy, because he’s still inside her, and her legs are still around him. A couple of people applaud and whistle from a balcony above, and Sophie tucks her face into Spencer’s neck, wraps her arms around him, and they go inside.

The two of you are incredible, he texts Spencer when he goes inside as well. I love you both so much. So perfect, so beautiful. Take care of each other.

We love you, too. I think tomorrow, you two should let me watch.

Aaron closes his eyes, exhales long, climbs into bed.

The next day, they somehow manage to work together as if nothing happened the night before, as if his two perfect partners didn’t fuck in front of a live audience, as if he didn’t bring himself off in public as a result.

It’s enough to keep him in a state of passive arousal all day, and he hopes and prays it’s not enough to give him an erection, because he doesn’t have time for it.

That night, though, is another story entirely.

Roles are reversed, as requested; Spencer sits on his balcony, in the dark, but they don’t look toward him, just the way he and Sophie didn’t look for Aaron. She said it helped, and he wants to keep her as comfortable as possible, knows this is a lot.

Aaron lays back on the chaise, and he gently palms Sophie’s head as she holds his hips, kisses and licks his dick; he knows she’ll fall hard sucking him off like this, and he liked how submissive she was for Spencer yesterday, would like to get her there himself too.

“Hmm. Good girl, baby,” he hums, brushing back her hair; she’d run her tongue over him all night if he let her, and it would get him off, too, but he wants to make it good for Spencer, so he reaches down and lifts his cock, guides her mouth down onto it.

She moans on him, wraps her hand around the base, presses her lips tight and bobs her head, slow and steady, and he tips his head back, rubs her arms, encouraging the treatment.

“Yes, baby, suck on daddy’s cock. You’re always best with your mouth full, aren’t you, my sweet, slutty girl?” She hums around him, shifts so she can get a hand between her legs, which is his absolute favorite, and moves faster, her hand and her mouth together, wet and hot, enough to make his eyes roll back in his head. He knows he won’t last long if she keeps that up, lets them both enjoy it for a moment before putting his hands on her cheeks and pulling her off gently. “Enough of that; climb up for daddy,” he instructs, and she slinks up his body, presses her mouth to his for a heated, eager kiss.

It lasts a while, because she feels so good, tastes so good, like him, and then they separate, panting against each other. “How do you want me, daddy?” He sits up, runs a hand up her body, and then guides her to sit back on his dick, making them both gasp. “Hmm, yeah. Thank you, daddy,” she murmurs, and she presses her hands against his chest and starts to move atop him.

She’s perfect, as always, fucking quickly, slamming into his thrusts, and one hand falls back to steady herself against his thigh; her chest is flushed and red, nipples hard, and he can’t resist, has to lean in and suck one into his mouth, roll it around on his tongue.

“Oh, fuck, mmm,” she sighs, wrapping her hand around the back of his head and holding him close. “You know my body so well because it’s yours, daddy. Yours to use, to fuck, to come inside.” He releases her breast and stares up at her, her breathing hard, her mouth open in a silent moan. She’s gorgeous, unabashed, riding his cock like she was made for it; he knows Spencer has to be touching himself as he watches her body work, her hips roll against him.

It’s relatively quiet, and he hears someone mutter, same girl, different guy, and he’s forced to really think about this for a moment, what they’re doing, the kind of line they’ve crossed. He wonders if this will be something done once, remembered fondly but out of their systems for good, or something they’ll need, will have to learn to navigate around safely, healthily. He thinks about how different it is for her, as a woman, compared to how it is for them as men.

She either feels none of the same apprehension or simply hides it well, because she only bounces harder against his thighs until she comes whimpering his name. He groans, puts his hands on her ass and squeezes it, urging her to keep going until the sensitivity passes, not to stop or slow. She knows what to do—another voice says riding it like a champ—just tosses her hair over her shoulder, scrapes her nails through the hair on his chest, moans long and loud.

“Mmm, yes, daddy, thank you daddy. Thank you for not letting me stop—I’m just here for you to use, to take your come. I’m your slut.”

“Yes, baby girl, you are a slut for daddy. You live to be fucked hard, destroyed by me. By us.” It’s the only time they’ve acknowledged Spencer, and Aaron can hear a faint groan coming from his direction. “One man is not enough for a needy, desperate slut like you. You need two. Separately, together—you belong to us both.” She runs a hand through her hair, bucks hard against him, reaches down to rub at her clit again; god, if she comes on his cock twice he’s going to fucking lose it.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chants, and he leans up again, bites down on her nipple, and she cries out in pleasure, digs her nails into his chest, and comes again. He puts both hands hard on her hips, forces her down onto his cock a handful of times and then comes as well, pumping into her tight channel with a groan.

She pants, catches his mouth in a bruising kiss, and he gets her into the bedroom, lays her back on the bed, and watches her body move as she works to catch her breath, still shivering with aftershocks, clamping down tight around his cock. She touches his face, his hair, and he only pulls out when he hears a light but insistent knock on the door.

“It’s Spencer, baby, I’ll be right back,” he promises, kissing her, and when he opens the door Spencer flies in, grabs him hard, kisses him, then makes his way to Sophie; he touches her softly, stroking her hair, whispering words of praise until she’s shaking and the only thing that will soothe her is his arms wrapping around her, holding her close.

It’s the first time he actually notices how differently she sees them, as their sub. Aaron is the one who makes rules, gives orders, disciplines and corrects, and Spencer is softer, earning obedience with his actions more than his words. Aaron pushes her, overwhelms her, and Spencer is the one who helps her through when she’s overwhelmed, and it’s why this works, why it works when he’s dominating Spencer, too. There’s no clashing of personalities, it’s all complementary, all necessary. All important.

He has to find a way to make this right. “Strauss was… confused, to say the least,” Aaron explains to them at dinner a few nights later. “And I could tell she thinks I’m just a couple more twenty-somethings away from being a cult leader or something,” he says—only half joking, Sophie can tell, “but she knows, now. All that’s left is to tell the team, and then live with whatever repercussions may come.” She reaches out for both of their hands, squeezes them.

“Well, the team was okay with us when we disclosed, and this is a little more unconventional, but we know them. I don’t think we’ll have a problem. If anyone else has one, that’s beyond our control. It doesn’t say anything about us; people have always found a reason to dislike something different just because it’s different.” She glances at Spencer, who is looking so soft, pleased, that she doesn’t know how they didn’t see the signs before. He’s like a whole new person, now, their person.

"One more thing," Aaron says, and he's looking at the both of them, his face sweet and loving too. He crosses the room, opens a drawer, pulls out two small jewelry boxes and sets one in front of each of them. He crouches between them. "I know it might seem a little soon, but this isn't anything serious, just a reminder, a promise. I don't ever want either of you to feel like we aren't all equal here: equally valued, equally important, equally loved." Sophie opens hers—a delicate gold band with a small diamond in the middle—and Aaron pulls a third out of his pocket, thicker, simple, just gold, identical to the one Spencer opens. "Please don't ever think you can't talk to me when something is bothering you, and don't ever forget that I love you."

She leans over, kisses him, kisses Spencer, and they kiss each other, and the night gets away from them and they have sex in so many different positions and combinations it’s like Twister, but everyone feels fulfilled when they drift off to sleep, and that’s the most important thing.

Telling the team is… interesting, to say the least.

“Okay, thanks for letting us know,” JJ says, nodding, and Aaron, Spencer, and Sophie just look at each other where they stand. Spencer frowns, confused.

“What do you mean, ‘thanks for letting us know’? That’s it?” Morgan crosses his hands behind his head.

“Yeah. We’ve known for a while, but this is like you guys coming out, as bi or pan or whatever you two are,” he says, gesturing to the guys, “and then as like… what’s the word, baby girl?” he asks Garcia, and she waves her feathered pen at the three of them.

“Throuple. It’s like a couple, but, you know, three.” She smiles kindly.

“You knew,” Spencer repeats, and Sophie glances at Aaron, shoots him an indulgent smile. “You knew, all along?”

“Since the day you guys had your ‘partner evaluations,’” Prentiss admits with a teasing tone. “You two are extremely obvious. It’s like you can’t get laid without looking like two blushing, giggling little school girls after. So not sneaky.”

“I literally saw you two making out at Rossi’s party,” JJ says with a laugh. “I was going to tell Hotch I thought you were cheating on him, but Garcia convinced me not to. She was on to your whole thing before any of us.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Spencer asks, looking like he’s about to pull his hair out. Sophie knows he’d been so upset he couldn’t share their relationship with anyone, and they knew for most, if not all of it, so he’s understandably kind of losing it.

“What were we supposed to do? Order a cake and make you a banner that said, ‘Congrats on the threesome!’?” Prentiss jokes, and Garcia leans back in her chair to look at her.

“Throuple.” Prentiss waves her hand, accepts the correction, and Sophie reaches out for Spencer, smooths her hand over his back, presses her nose to his shoulder.

“Okay, well I think this turned out well. Let’s go make a cup of tea, baby,” she murmurs, and Spencer lets himself be led away, muttering about stupid friends that drive me crazy. Aaron follows behind them, presses his hand to her lower back, and Sophie sighs, content.

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Note

Hot damn your dark Jefferson oh yes can you please do a part two for this 🤤💕💦

glad you enjoyed it! I’m not 100% sure what work you’re referring to since I have a couple things for dark jefferson but since rock the boat is my only full oneshot for him I’ll assume you mean that, and yes I can do a little part 2!

this is all soft dark (extra heavy on the soft as well), trigger warnings for pregnancy mention, stockholm syndrome (slightly), dubcon smut, semi-public smut/exhibitionism, and breeding kink

“And that one is the North Star,” he finished his explanation, standing right behind you as he pointed to the night sky.

“I swear I’ve never been able to see so many stars,” you whispered, enraptured by the glittering lights in every direction; it was all you could really see, only dark ocean in every direction and no shores or other ships anywhere in sight.

“Stars are a sailor’s guide, we use them to chart our way through these oceans,” he explained. “They’re beautiful but they’re purposeful as well, we need them to survive.”

He hugged you a little tighter, looking at your face now instead of the sky.

“That’s how I feel about you, you know,” he added quietly.

You felt your face heat up instantly as you shied away from his gaze, feeling his smile press a kiss against your cheek. “Captain...”

“You really don’t have to call me that,” he chuckled softly, holding your hand and raising it to his lips to kiss your fingers. “You should call me ‘husband’ instead.”

All you could do when he said that was stammer over your words, making him laugh even more as he spun you around to face him, leaning you back against the railing of the forecastle deck.

“I’ve been calling you ‘wife’ for some time now but you haven’t returned the favor,” he reminded you. “Do you not care for me?”

“I... I do,” you offered awkwardly, trying to look down but finding his hand guiding your chin up until you looked at him again. “I suppose it’s just all a lot to take in. I miss my home, my family... it’s hard to imagine never seeing anyone I love again.”

“But I’m here,” he reminded you. “You love me.”

Your eyes went wide as you blinked up at him. “Do I?”

A moment of anger flashed across his features before it softened into a laugh. “Darling, of course you do. Every night you’re desperate to get in bed with me, always asking me to hold you while you sleep... do you dream of home, my wife? Or do you dream of me, of our lives together on the ocean?”

You swallowed dryly because both of you knew it was the second.

“And you crave my touch so voraciously,” he grinned, fingers gently trailing down your spine through your nightgown. “Spreading your legs for me whenever I want, like a proper wife...”

“Y-you imprisoned me,” you recalled, “when we met. You never courted or wooed me.”

“I think it’s clear you’ve found more freedom as my prisoner than you ever had given to you before,” he countered, grabbing your waist tightly all of a sudden. “You have a new life now, a new home-- and a new family, as soon as you bear my child.”

You shivered in his embrace as he leaned in to whisper against your ear.

“I think it’ll be any day now, don’t you? I can’t wait to see you swelling with my seed, lovely wife...”

Swallowing down a wine, you felt your thighs clench together and knew he saw it, knew he could sense your need from a mile away (though he hadn’t been more than a few yards from you since he first captured you, since you lived on his ship now).

“Bend over the railing, darling, look out over the ocean,” he instructed in a growl, already manhandling you to turn around. As if his intentions weren’t obvious, he instantly began hiking up your nightgown and running his rough hands over your skin.

“The crew!” you remembered. “What if they come up on deck, a-and see us?”

“Then let them see,” he grinned, nipping at your neck playfully. “Let them see what a good little wife you are for me, how much you love it when I take you.”

As much as the sideways stares of the crew usually made your skin crawl, something about the idea of them seeing this both disturbed and aroused you. The power Captain Jefferson commanded over his men was... certainly interesting, to say the least, and your back arched as you imagined them getting just one more reminder that you were completely his and not to be touched or hardly even looked at by anyone else.

You felt the warmth of him pressing against your thigh and you wanted more already, you wanted him inside you so badly that your channel ached.

He started to slide his length over your soaked folds, making you whine and try to push back against him for more.

“So eager,” he cooed. “I’ll fuck you when you call me your husband.”

Biting down on your lip, you considered the consequences of that. You had been raised all your life with the idea that finding a husband was the true purpose of living, and that once you had a husband, you were loyal to him for the rest of your life no matter the cost. And until now, some small part of you hadn’t given up on escaping and returning to the life he’d taken you from.

But your body’s needs overpowered your mind’s logic, and you found yourself whimpering to him: “Husband, please, I need you.”

He usually took his time with this part, filling you one inch at a time until you cried for more, but not tonight-- he slammed in all at once, groaning as you gripped the wooden banister for dear life. “My beautiful wife,” he breathed, “all mine.”

“Yours,” you moaned, a little too loud and sure to wake the crew below deck.

His pace was unrelenting, perhaps rougher than he’d ever been with you; calling into question, then, why you were already so close to coming around him. “You want to be pregnant, don’t you?” he taunted with a grin. “You want to have my baby.”

“Yes,” you sighed, “please, I-I want it.”

“Your body is begging for it, darling... so wet and tight, desperate to be filled. Look at you, you can’t even keep it together, all you want is to come for me more than anything.”

Just to make sure he proved himself right, he reached around under your body and began stroking your bud, and you barely managed to stop your knees from buckling. Looking down at the waves crashing into the side of the ship, you couldn’t help but feel it was the only way to describe the feeling as pleasure overcame you, making your entire body quiver and quake while your lips spilled broken cries of his name.

But he didn’t stop touching you, or fucking you, if anything he did it all with more purpose than before, keeping you suspended in it until you couldn’t tell if your eyes had fallen shut or if your vision had just gone dark.

He slowed down only as he came inside you with a cry of his own, holding you tightly and finishing each pump of his release with a squeeze on your hips and a whisper of your name.

A long moment was filled only with the sounds of the ocean and you two catching your breath, until he finally pulled out of you and let your gown fall back down to your ankles.

“We should return to bed and get some rest,” he decided, but before you could start to walk away he pulled you into a sudden and passionate kiss, a softness to it as you both were clearly exhausted. “I love you, my wife,” he whispered.

A pit formed in your stomach, but you knew what you had to say in return. “I love you too, my husband.”

#6k party #jefferson ouat x reader #soft!dark jefferson ouat #Anonymous

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ahkaahshi · 4 years ago

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so good to me [akaashi keiji x reader]

pairing: akaashi keiji x fem reader

genre: smut (18+) with a hint of fluff

warning(s): explicit sexual content, quirofilia, breath play, light dumbification, swearing, fingering, dirty talk

word count: 3.2k

overview: baking cupcakes ends up being a bit more challenging than you’d originally anticipated when you keep finding yourself distracted by your handsome boyfriend’s pretty hands.

It’s almost poetic, you think: the way your boyfriend’s fingers dance along his laptop’s keyboard. Even though he’s sending a rather heated email to a coworker who’s fallen short on his work, you can’t help but find yourself mesmerized at the sight of his long, slender digits tapping away rhythmically, only pausing every now and then to find just the right word to use to purvey his displeasure in an appropriate manner. In fact, you’re so entranced by watching the tendons in his hands shift with each movement of his fingers that you don’t even realize you’ve neglected your ingredient measuring duties until his voice interrupts you.

“Sorry, do you need the recipe again?” he asks, drawing your (e/c) gaze to his slate blue one that glows behind the screen’s reflection on his glasses.

Quickly, you shake your head and brush a strand of (h/c) hair away from your face. “We can start when you’re done. It’s okay.” The small smile that graces your features has him leaning down to peck your temple gently.

“I’ll be done in a minute.”

Pleasant tingles travel down your back at feeling his lips brush against your skin as they form the gentle reassurance he speaks. To busy yourself in a productive manner while he finishes up his email, you wander around the kitchen to fetch any bakeware you see missing from the island’s wooden countertop—including a muffin pan. A glance at the time displayed in sharp, blue lines on the stove reminds you just how much earlier in the day you should’ve started baking treats for the small gathering of former Fukuroudani team members you’d offered to host. Akaashi seems to sense your concern, since he hurries to finish his message before opening the tab with the recipe you intend to follow and washing his hands.

As the two of you set to combining and mixing ingredients according to the cupcake recipe on his screen, you find it challenging to keep your daydreams at bay and your attention on your own tasks. Each time his hands dart into your workspace for another utensil, your gaze follows them and your mind floods with thoughts that quickly become less than innocent.

Every glide of his fingers along his laptop’s trackpad makes you wish they were tracing along every inch of your body instead, setting your skin ablaze with his touch. Each time they wrap around the base of the stand mixer he’s using to agitate a bowl of creamy contents, you feel your throat tighten in anticipation as your mind conjures hazy memories of his gentle pressure around your neck. His occasional—and almost curious—grazes of the veins beneath the fair skin on his arms remind you of each time you’d decorated them with small crescents as you clutched onto him while feverishly chanting his name. Watching him work is both delightful and maddening.

And it becomes even more of a challenge to slow your racing heart when you notice his fingers dip into the bowl of frosting he’s whipped up to collect some on his fingertips. Experimentally, he tastes his creation, the thoughtful expression on his features soon easing as he gives it an approving nod. Upon noticing that your full attention is on him, he gestures towards the bowl and offers, “Try some. See if you like it.”

Your heart flutters in your chest as you suggest, “Could you get some for me? My hands are all covered in flour.”

For the record, they’re not, and your observant boyfriend knows this, but entertains you anyway. It’s almost shameful, the way your mouth begins watering when his fingers drag through the fluffy, white topping to gather another dollop on the tips, but you can’t help yourself. Not when you know just how much sweeter the sample will taste when delivered to you by his digits rather than your own. He seems to understand at least a sliver of the thoughts racing through your mind, since he utters a gentle command that brings your thighs together beneath the cover of your apron.

“Open.”

Obediently, you let your jaw slacken so he can move his fingers between your soft lips to spread the sugary frosting across your tastebuds. His unwavering gaze narrows ever so slightly when you move your face closer to his knuckle, taking the entirety of his two fingers into your mouth and dragging your tongue along the smooth expanse of his skin. That quiet groan you can barely hear rumbling in his throat is both a warning and a challenge—letting you know that you’re playing with fire but also questioning just how badly you want to get burned. Solidifying your decision of wanting to play this teasing game with him, you suck on his fingers with enough pressure to create a loud pop when you remove them from your mouth by pulling away.

Judging by the low tone in his voice when he speaks, your intentions have been made crystal clear and he’s not going to let you get away with what you’ve done. “I should’ve known, huh?” You furrow your eyebrows in slight confusion at his words, but he elaborates, “With the way you’ve been watching me since before we even started baking. So simple-minded, sometimes, aren’t you, baby?” A gentle tap against your protruding lower lip brings your attention to the fact that you’re pouting, and you quickly take it between your teeth. “Can’t even do something as easy as following a recipe for cupcake batter because you’re too busy thinking about making a mess all over my fingers. Is that right?”

Your breath hitches in your throat when his palm moves to the side of your neck, just beneath your jawbone. “Keiji,” you whimper softly, feeling unbearably hot under his touch all of a sudden. His cool thumb tracing over your warm skin hardly provides any relief, and only intensifies the temperature of the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach.

“Finish up,” he commands gently, placing his other hand on your hip to guide you back towards the bowl of ingredients you’ve yet to finish mixing. He grabs the hand mixer resting on the counter nearby that you’d taken out earlier before placing the device into the palm of your slightly quivering hand. At your hesitation, he urges, “Go on. I would hate to have to tell everyone that dessert wasn’t ready because my girlfriend was too distracted by wanting me to fuck her stupid on my fingers, of all things.”

Another pitiful whine escapes your mouth, but you turn the mixer on and place it in the bowl in front of you to complete the task you’d originally set yourself to. The sensation of his fingers ghosting along the exposed skin on your neck before making their way down to your hips and holding onto them firmly from where he stands behind you makes your core ache. His warmth against the entire backside of your body has you using every fiber of self-control to prevent yourself from abandoning your job and throwing your arms around him. However, you know that no matter how much you want him, he won’t feed into any of your desires until the contents of the bowl have been poured into the muffin pan and safely tucked away inside the warmth of the oven, so you diligently work on taking things one step at a time—since that’s all you can muster, anyway.

“Good girl,” he praises gently when you finish mixing, his breath falling on the shell of your ear, “You always work better when you’re told what to do, don’t you?” Silently, you nod. Both of you know that your intelligence is much higher than he’s currently giving you credit for, but you love the pleasure you reap from assuming the role of his dumb, little girlfriend in situations like this. Pretending as if you didn’t know better or couldn’t perform without being told what to do always gave you a bit of a thrill—which he knew all too well. He didn’t mind, since he had never been a stranger to assuming control.

“In the oven for twenty minutes. Be careful not to burn yourself, sweetheart.”

His gunmetal gaze follows your figure as you shuffle over to the oven to pull it open so you can slide the tray into its warmth. Once you’ve set it to bake for the appropriate time, you untie your apron and pull it off over your head before grabbing one of his hands and leading him towards the bedroom. However, his refusal to budge takes you by surprise, and you nearly stumble backwards when your movements are stopped.

“Keiji,” you huff, “the rest of our friends are gonna be here soon.”

In an instant that happens too quickly for you to be able to process anything, you’re being pulled towards him moments before you find your back pressed against one of the walls in the kitchen. Your (e/c) eyes are wide with shock but clouded by a thin veil of lust as you stare into his own, which you find are watching you as calmly as ever. “I know,” he states, “So why don’t we take care of things right here, then?” Though his words are phrased as a question, the intonation of his voice along with the way his hand is slowly sliding up your shirt reveal otherwise. He’s not asking.

The intensity of his gaze makes your heart pound erratically against your ribcage and draws you closer to him in spite of his strong presence keeping your back flush against the cool wall. After he brings his face down towards yours to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, it’s hard for you to keep track of everything that happens next. His fingers dancing along the expanse of bare skin from your waist to your lacy bralette beneath your shirt has you melting into his touch, and his passionate kisses are soon taking your breath away. His fingertips skimming over the dainty fabric separating them from your nipples makes you squirm and tighten your grasp around him.

“Come here,” he whispers, placing his arm around your back and guiding you into the center of the kitchen. Grabbing one of the chairs at the other side of the island, he drags it behind him so he can take a seat and beckon you to do the same. When you sit down on his lap facing him, he shakes his head and insists, “Turn around.”

With your back to him this time, you slide back onto the seat, perching between his legs. As his hands work their way up to your breasts, sliding underneath the lace so they can cup your soft, plush skin and roll your nipples between his fingers, you let out a soft moan and focus your gaze on the warm glow of the light inside the oven just a few feet away from where you’re sitting. In the faint reflection on the smooth surface of the glass, yours and Akaashi’s forms are barely visible, and you can’t help but watch as he slides one of his palms along your thighs, pausing to give them a firm squeeze every now and then.

“Please, Keiji,” you breathe, placing your hand over his and guiding it to the waistband of the lounge shorts you’re wearing, “want your fingers inside me.”

He hums, “I know you do, baby,” as he toys with the elastic before pushing it away from your hips and down your legs as far as he can reach. You hear a small chuckle bubble in his throat when you hastily rid yourself of the garment, leaving only one more layer between his long fingers and your aching core. “It’s all you’ve been thinking about. It’s all you can think about.”

You nod in agreement, desperate to do or say anything that’ll get him to move with just a bit more urgency to alleviate your discomfort. Heat spreads across your skin in a powerful wave when his other palm comes to rest on the base of your throat. His fingers slowly making their way up and around your neck, gently pulling you back against his chest while his other digits toy with the edge of your panties makes your pussy throb needily. Before you can beg for him another time, though, he’s dipping beneath the flimsy material to trail his fingertips from your already soaking entrance to your clit.

A loud moan of appreciation echoes from between your lips as Akaashi presses his to your jawline. “Take your panties off for me.” His command has your own fingers skittering down to your hips to shed the material as quickly as possible and you ignore the rush of cold air you feel between your legs at being fully exposed. The reflection in the oven’s window is too unclear for you to tell if he’s watching you the same way you’re watching yourself, but, in the bright lights of the kitchen, you can see your slick shining on his fingertips as he spreads it along your sex.

Your small whimpers and mewls begin steadily increasing in volume as he slides his index finger over your pearl in short, tantalizing strokes that leave you wanting more. And while he enjoys every sound that leaves your mouth, littering your skin with gentle kisses as encouragement, he tightens his grasp around your throat, restricting your airflow in the gentlest manner possible. It’s clear, after your countless experiences with breath play in the bedroom, that he knows exactly how much pressure to use to keep you safe and comfortable, yet make you feel restrained and excited.

As he digs his digits into the tender skin around your neck, your cries of pleasure become more labored and your chest heaves with deeper breaths. He’s careful and understanding of your body, loosening his grip slightly whenever he feels the muscles surrounding your throat straining too excessively, and tightening it again when he hears more of your desperate pleas. Safety and respect for you are always his first priorities, no matter what games you’re playing or kinks you’re experimenting with, and knowing he’ll always take care of you is what makes you melt into his arms and clutch onto him tightly as he pleasures you.

“Keiji!” Another cry of his name rolls off your tongue when he finally plunges his fingers inside of your hot core, which welcomes him with a wet squelch. Each thrust of his digits into you, edging them closer and closer to your most sensitive area has you moaning unabashedly with desire. “Faster, please!” He ignores your request and continues sliding them in and out at a controlled speed. “Please, Keiji, I wanna cum. I want you to make me cum,” you plead with an exasperated exhale.

Without warning, the hand on your neck releases so he can shove his fingers into your half-open mouth, making you squeal with surprise. “It looks like you forgot that you’re only allowed to take orders, not give them, silly girl,” he murmurs, pressing his mouth against the shell of your ear so his voice is the only thing you can hear, “Who’s in charge right now, hmm?”

With his fingers depressing your tongue and quickly filling your mouth with saliva, you slur out his name as best as you can. The proximity of his face to yours makes you hyperaware of each breath and utterance that leaves his lips, as well as the heat they send skittering across your skin.

“That’s right,” he answers, “So, be a good girl and let me make you feel good, okay? Promise I will.”

He takes a soft sigh and lack of complaints from you as a sign of you relinquishing control to him once more and pecks your temple tenderly in response. As he continues pleasuring your needy pussy with his fingers, those he has in your mouth muffle the cries you utter in response to the sensations that you’ve been craving all day. It’s not long before you notice your own saliva start trailing down his wrist, glittering in the lights above as you as it leaves a slick path along the soft ridges of his veins and tendons in its slow-moving wake. His thumb pressing against your sensitive clit as he kneads the spongy region inside of you with his index and middle fingers returns you to the moment once again, and your breathing gradually becomes more labored as you grind your hips against him, desperate for release.

Soon, a rush of euphoria overtakes your body as you finally fall apart at his fingers alone. He lightens the pressure he’s exerting on your tongue just enough for his name to be fully formed when it leaves your mouth in breathy cries, since there’s nothing he loves more than hearing it chanted like it’s the only word in your vocabulary in the heat of your orgasms. He hums with contentment into your neck, nipping gently at the skin there as he lets you use his fingers to ride out your high.

You’re barely allowed a moment of rest following your release before the timer for the oven beeps harshly, bringing you back to reality more abruptly than you would’ve liked. Slowly, you close your legs, and Akaashi keeps his hand nestled in your warmth for what feels to be a long stretch of time before pulling it away from your sensitive core. A lighthearted chuckle echoes from his mouth when he tries to move only to have you slump against him and whine with indignation.

Before he can speak, the sound of the doorbell ringing alerts both of you to the arrival of your guests, and your gaze darts to him, then to your shorts and panties strewn across the tiled floor. “Of course, they decide to be right on time today, of all days,” he growls, placing his hands on your waist to help you stand up so you can make yourself decent.

“Kou’s probably excited about the cupcakes,” you giggle as you slide the discarded clothes back up your legs while Akaashi washes his hands. Once you’re dressed, you approach your boyfriend and give him and affectionate kiss that he returns appreciatively. Another chime of the doorbell forces the two of you to pull away so that he can retrieve the cupcakes from the oven and attend to your impatient guests. “Need help with anything?”

He smiles sweetly but answers, “Not now. You can go ahead and get ready,” before giving you a gentle pat on the rear to send you off down the hall.

“Hey, Keiji?”

“Yes, my love?”

You bite your lip before suggesting, “Once everyone leaves tonight, how about I put on that cute lingerie set you got for me and wait in the bedroom for you on my knees?”

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, “I would love that.” As you prance down the hallway to the bedroom while he approaches the front door, the words you hear him add in a hushed tone make your heart flutter in your chest: “Always so good to me.”

treat me to a coffee! ⭐︎ kinktober masterlist

taglists (see pinned post on my blog for form)

general: @dinablossom, @newfriendjen, @devlovesramen, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin, @kac-chowsballs, @osamusmiya

akaashi: @why-aminot-dead, @lotsoffandomrecs, @atsunakaashi, @heyhinata

#ahkaahshi gets wild #akaashi keiji x reader #ahkaahshi's mini kinktober 2020 #haikyuu smut #akaashi smut #akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #x reader #reader insert #haikyuu fanfiction #tw breath play #tw dumbification #fran writes hq!!

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braindeadbaddie · 4 years ago

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A Study on Love: Relearning What It Means to Be Human

Takemichi doesn’t really remember what it’s like to love. He doesn’t really remember what it’s like to live either.

So he is forced to relearn.

In his first life, he blocked all his emotions out, buried his fiery personality away, and kept his head down always apologizing apologizing apologizing. He never wanted to live through the hell his arrogance cost him ever again.

One mistake was all it took to fuck up his life for good.

And yet one push was all it took to make it right.

Takemichi loves Hinata.

Or he did.

When your life’s peak is in the second year of middle school, where emotions and hormones are always high, and everything is so intense, love is as simple as ice cream on a hot summer day.

His first life was simple. The days bled together, full of sorry sorry sorry. Because he was so sorry sorry sorry. Nothing was good, everything was trash, so of course he loved the only person who ever thought highly of him. Of course, that was the highlight of love.

But here he is, in his second life, with a future he crafted, that he took initiative in, that is so much more colorful than his previous one.

And so less lonely.

He doesn’t remember much, his memories of the current timeline lagging a little to catch up, but he does know that even the him that was left to live his life up to this point, started to feel it too:

The dull gray that comes with thinking that as cute as the idea of middle-school sweethearts to lifetime partners is, maybe it isn’t for him. Maybe he doesn’t love Hina the way he once did.

He loved her so much, and he still does. But not like he did before. Her kisses don’t make him feel strong the way they used to. Her embrace lacks a certain warmth. Her love doesn’t make him feel alive the way it used to.

He doesn’t regret saving her. No. He never could. Because he loves Hinata. And maybe it isn’t the blazing love it once was, but it is still a fire that keeps him warm. It makes him feel so good knowing that he saved her, that she’s alive, she’s safe. She’s happy. But she deserves to be happier. She deserves a love that will fulfill her, a love that Takemichi cannot provide for her.

And so Takemichi comes to his first conclusion about love.

That maybe we can love differently at 26 than we did at 14, but that doesn’t make the love any less real.

Just because something is no longer true, doesn’t mean that it once wasn’t, and that doesn’t make it any less valid. People grow, people learn. People become different people.

And isn’t that the most beautiful thing about human nature?

That we can change. That our lives are in our tiny, helpless but ever-changing hands.

So he breaks up with Hina, tells her as gently as possible, cushioning the blows with “I love you, just not the way I used to” and “it’s not you, it’s me,” and “I’m so sor—“

He doesn’t say it. He doesn’t apologize.

He takes a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you like this…”

Yes. That is true. That he feels.

Hina cries and Takemichi hugs her. He offers to stay at a friend’s until she is ready to leave. She agrees because she is too much of a mess to do otherwise.

As he packs a bag to stay at Akkun’s or Mikey’s or one of the other guys’ place for a week or so, he is certain that they’ll both be okay.

He’s sure of it.

So Takemichi makes his way out, planting a final kiss to Hina’s head, whispering a soft affirmation that love will find her.

And then he’s out the door and out of her life for good.

Oddly enough, his first instinct is to call Mikey…so he does and not even 20 minutes later, a beautiful CB205T is driving up to the convenience store he is at.

Mikey gives him a reassuring smile, still unaware of why he’s been called out here and why Takemichi needs a place to crash for a while. He just heard Takemichi needed him, and he was already on his way.

Takemichi settles onto the bike, wrapping his arms around Mikey and sighs, inhaling Mikey’s fresh cologne and body wash and fabric softener.

And as he rides through the city with his cheek pressed against Mikey’s warm back, he comes to his first hypothesis about love.

That love must be warm, and smells like vanilla, cinnamon, and sweet sweet ocean breeze.

~~~~

Mikey is helpless.

That is Takemichi’s first impression of staying with him in the first week.

No wonder Draken lives with him, he giggles to himself one morning.

But Takemichi is helpless too, and he realizes that maybe he wants to stop being so. Because he did want a second chance at life. The least he could do was learn household chores.

So he cooks with Draken over his shoulder, instructing him on what to do in a surprising calm voice. The drastic improvement between each meal is always shocking.

He helps Draken with dishes, laundry, and even a bit of spring cleaning.

Takemichi thinks that this is what love must be like. Because what better way to love than to take care of someone in every way you know how.

Mikey is helpless but he takes the skills he does learn and applies it to the small room he has put together in dedication of his missing family. Shin’s room made from a garage stays the same, a time capsule of love. In the memorial are the ashes of Shin, Emma, and his grandfather. The room is adorned with memories, and a picture of Baji nestled between his siblings.

He has the bunny Draken gave Emma on her birthday, three tattered kid uniforms with Sano Dojo embroidered on them hanging on the wall, a picture of the abandoned building with the collapsed ceiling in the Philippines. He has pictures of old bikes, childhood photos, a first generation Black Dragons jacket and a copy of the photo of the founders of Toman. There is a photo of Izana towards the back of the room, hidden away in the corner, a Teijiku jacket hung above and a pair of earrings lay in front.

Takemichi goes into the room sometimes, talks in a soft voice and apologizes for all that he couldn’t do to save the people closest to Mikey. But he promises them that he will dedicate himself to make sure life is a bit easier for him, because now he can share Mikey’s burden with him, instead of making him feel like he must do it alone.

Takemichi looks at all the photos, radiating love, of all of Mikey’s loss, and finally realizes why Kisaki was able to manipulate him into going dark in so many future. Why he still lost his way, even without Kisaki.

And so Takemichi, belatedly, comes to his second conclusion on love.

That love is what makes us human.

It is what fills our lives with color. It connects us to one another, makes life worth living. The two are connected, needing one another so that life does not become bleak and gray. Love hurts, but the hurt is only possible because of love.

Love is our first language.

And Takemichi so desperately wants to use his second life to become more human.

So he makes dorayaki on days that Mikey’s eyes look far away. They’re awful at first; Mikey makes a very disgusted face and a dramatic show of spitting them out. But it still doesn’t fail to bring his eyes back to the present. And Takemichi is determined and stubborn, and if he could fix the future, he can make the perfect dorayaki for his best friend.

So he consults with Draken and the internet and slowly but surely, manages to make a dorayaki so perfect that Mikey’s eyes shine and shimmer and look at him with so much emotion he feels paralyzed in place.

Ah, Takemichi thinks helplessly. That is what love must look like.

~~~

Takemichi moves in with Mikey and Draken.

It’s something brought up by Mikey, co-signed by Draken, and so it instantly becomes a course of action, no matter how badly Takemichi wants to protest.

But he doesn’t.

Because Takemichi thinks that home feels a lot more like a traditional Japanese house, right next to a dojo, with a garage time-capsule than a shitty apartment with paper-thin walls and shitty neighbors.

Home is mornings with Draken wrapped up in a blue-gray apron with a small dragon stitched into the corner pocket, made with love by Mitsuya, making a traditional Japanese breakfast, cursing out Mikey for always waking up so late.

Home is Mikey stumbling into the kitchen, looking more like an adorable 12 year old than a full grown man who could kill you with one kick.

Home is running his hair through black locks on the porch that overlooks a small garden, because Mikey is clingy and says Takemichi is so warm and insisting that he must nap in his lap every Sunday afternoon.

Home is growing fresh vegetables with Draken in the garden to make meals filled with love. It’s the perfect balance of a noisy kitchen while making dinner and a cup of calming tea in the dead quiet before bed.

And so Takemichi comes to his third conclusion about love.

That love is what makes a home.

~~~

Chifuyuu runs a pet shop with Kazutora because he still loves Baji.

Hakkai is a model because he spent so much time around Mitsuya because he loves him.

Smiley and Angry run a ramen shop together, balancing one another, because they love each other.

Mitsuya is a fashion designer because he started sewing for his two baby sisters who he loves so much.

Pey-yan is Pah-chin’s assistant because he loves him.

Draken lives with and takes care of Mikey because he loves him.

Mikey made and disbanded Toman because he loves his friends.

And so Takemichi comes to his fourth conclusion on love.

That love is a lot less like fire, and a lot more like water.

That love is not in burning the world for someone, but building a world for them instead. It is nurturing, it is life, and it refreshes. It makes up so much of who we are.

Sometimes it is soft like a drizzling rain. Sometimes it is sweet like a cool, crisp glass of water. Sometimes it is harsh like a thunderstorm. Sometimes it can be damaging like a brutal tsunami.

But it always always always nourishes the Earth. Even if the pits of it are dark and scary, unknown trenches of deep deep ocean.

Love is so integral to our being.

~~~

Takemichi is slowly but surely learning what it means to be human. He is slowly but surely learning to live each day as if it were precious.

He takes morning runs with Draken. He fosters an environment of forgiveness at work between his employees. He eats ramen at the twin’s shop. He gets bi-weekly haircuts from Akkun. He wears his special Mitsuya-made apron as he cooks dinner. He buys the magazines Hakkai is featured in. He hangs out with Chifuyuu every Friday night. He still talks to Hina and Naoto, loving the way that the light in Hina’s eyes shine brighter than they ever did with him.

And every morning, and every night, in a small futon, he kisses Mikey, sweet and lovingly.

He holds Mikey close to his chest, guarding him from drifting far away into a sea of sorrow ever again. He whispers sweet nothings into his ear, calling him Manjirou on days he sees dark clouds rolling in his eyes. He kisses him like he is trying to pour all the love he feels into Mikey’s heart.

He lets Mikey cry out about how hard life has been, and how much he has suffered. He kisses away his tears, shares his burdens, and wraps him in warm warm love.

Because he has come to a fifth conclusion about love.

That love, to him, is a fierce desire to save someone.

And hasn’t his whole second life been dedicated to saving Mikey?

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professionalsimpfor2dboys · 4 years ago

Text

“Lucifer’s Scenting” Obey Me Smut #3

Lucifer x Fem! MC

Beginning with Levi x Fem! MC

Introduction: After both Mammon and Levi scent on MC, Lucifer fully plans on going through with his promise of claiming her as his own, but not without a little punishment for not waiting for him to be her first scenter. Lucifer is a sadist after all and he isn’t going to go easy on his human but neither would she.

Warnings: breeding, bondage, spanking, scenting, rough vaginal sex, master kink (despite popular belief, Lucifer will be calling MC master), at first VERY submissive but then VERY dominant Lucifer, pact usage, degradation, blindfolding, pegging, praising, overall SPICY DEMON TIME, tell me if I missed anything. Who said Luci couldn’t be both a total subby sub and dommy dom?

Forewarning: this is LONG like I was actually CONCERNED because about 85% of it is pure SMUT, so be warned and take my apology ☁️

Both Levi and MC had passed out after their excursions much to the other brothers’ chagrin. While the brothers were pissy, they eventually shuffled back to their rooms when it became evident the both of them weren’t coming out to greet the angry mob. Levi had woken up first and, despite reverting back to his embarrassed nature, took it upon himself to wipe down MC’s body with a towel as she slept. She woke up to the feeling of soft caresses on her face and opened her eyes to see Levi’s orange ones staring at her with a utter adoration in them, but he was quick to blush and try to pull away which she didn’t allow. Hooking her arms behind his neck, she pulled him down so their lips met briefly for a gentle good morning kiss before pulling away just enough so their noses were still touching.

Levi’s cheeks were dusted pink as he soaked in the view of her, leaning towards her as if it was instinct as he encaptured her lips with his yet again for a passionate make out session to say what he couldn’t with words. They both pulled away, breathing heavily, as MC pushed aside the demon’s messy bangs that were slightly curled and stuck to his forehead due to sweat.

“I think we should both take a shower,” MC giggled, the first words spoken between them after yesterday having a humorous tone. Levi blushed and nodded, looking down at their entangled bodies as he pulled away his hand he didn’t even know was rested on her bare waist. They both eventually stood up, but staggered against one another after realizing how shaky their legs were which made MC giggle more.

“I-it seems you, uh, p-plowed me more than I t-thought,” Levi stuttered out, his face red from the neck-up as they held each other for support. MC nodded with a smile before pulling away when they were both steadied. “I-I’ll meet you down for breakfast, alright?” He stated, boldly kissing her once more before scurrying off, butt-naked by the way which was only emphasized when she heard a mixed screech that sounded suspiciously like both Mammon and Levi.

MC took her time freshening up in the bathroom, making sure she was squeaky clean after her activities with both Mammon and Levi. When the hot water from the shower head hit her, she let out a sigh of relief as it relaxed her muscles and soothed her sore body. One thought pressed at her mind, both anticipation and worry tagging along with it. How was she supposed to keep up with getting claimed by all the brothers back to back? She had already dealt with two brothers and it left her aching just imagining five more caused a shiver to run down her spine.

Sighing, she went down the steps and towards the dining room while drying her hair with a towel, promptly plopping into her usual seat as all eyes were on her. Scanning her eyes across each of them, it seemed they were all holding their breaths. Choosing to ignore them, she grabbed her fork and stabbed the pancakes Satan had made that morning, bringing it to her mouth. Slowly, she bit into it and it was right at that moment that all Hell broke loose.

“MCCCC! I wanna be next! Please? Pretty please? I’ll obviously be the best out of all my brothers!” Asmo whined, a pout setting on his face as he clasped his hands together.

“Oi! Who are ya to think you’re the best outta us?” Mammon spoke up, pointing a fork towards his younger brother’s direction. “If it’s gonna be anyone it’s me!” He continued before angrily stuffing a piece of sausage into his mouth.

“Puh-lease. I’m the avatar of lust, sweety, I don’t think I know,” Asmo scoffed, waving his hand to brush Mammon off.

Before the avatar of greed could retaliate, Satan interjected. “I would hope that you’d choose me as your next suitor as I’d be the best choice amongst my barbarian brothers,” he stated before taking a small sip of his drink. “Besides, you reek of Mammon and Levi’s scenting, I quite frankly believe mine would suit you better,” he ended, a smug smirk on his face.

“Oh, get you’re head out your ass, Satan,” Belphie retaliated, picking his head up from the pillow he clutched to his chest as he looked at the avatar of wrath with a groggy but daggered glare nonetheless. “It should be either Beel or myself next, the rest of you guys don’t deserve her time,” he scoffed before pressing his face back into his pillow. Beel hummed in agreement, too busy eating to put in a comment.

“Look who’s talking! At least I didn’t kill-“ Satan began, his wrath beginning to show as he angrily stood up. Belphie was quick to react to his words as he rose from his seat as well, a dark look in his eye.

“Enough.” MC found herself saying. She had said it at a normal volume but the single word seemed to hang in the air long than usual as all the brothers froze at her words. “Sit down.” She commanded, her eyes shadowed as Satan and Belphie were quick to comply. The pact marks on the three of them glowing to show its effect. Finally picking up her head, she met the eyes of each of the brothers one by one as they all shivered at the look their human was giving them. “If I need to remind you, I’m human and humans get tired especially if they’re getting fucked by demons nonstop,” she berated them, some of them surprised at her vulgar way of putting it. “If any of you are going to ‘scent’ me it’s on my own terms or I’ll reject all of you,” she concluded, a fiery look in her eye as she looked at the each of them for any disagreement. All the brothers shivered at the sound of “reject” coming from her lips, an unpleasant taste settling in their mouths. Rejection for demons is much more serious than it is for humans, if a demon is to choose someone as their mate and start courting them but get rejected it will be as if a part of them is being ripped away from them causing immense pain and eventual emptiness which is why choosing your prime mate as a demon is very special, an intimate tether that ties the two together, it being especially important for the seven of them with her as they had a pact along with it.

Silence settled over the room as fear pitted in each of the brothers’ stomachs at her warning, Lucifer being the first to speak. “My brothers surely apologize for letting the fact that you’re a human slip their minds, isn’t that correct?” He questioned. The six of them nodded quickly in reply. “Things will continue on your own terms now, dear. I’ll even arrange for your classes to be online for now so you can rest and prepare,” he soothed.

“Why?” She found herself questioning aloud causing the corner of Lucifer’s lip to lift.

“Why I wouldn’t want any misunderstandings of our relationship with you to the rest of RAD seeing that only Mammon and Levi have scented on you thus far. While it may be enough to deter certain demons with certain motives, I’d hate for them to believe that it is only the two of them that have claimed you when it is really all of us,” he explained, a certain glint to his eye that caused MC’s cheeks to start heating up. “Oh, and while your use of rather vulgar language earlier to explain our linking was entertaining, I’d just like to inform you that what we’ve decided to partake in with you is much more...intimate,”

And, with that, MC was like putty in their hands.

A week had past since she had told off the brothers and everything had returned back to normal, other than the brothers always having a bit of anticipation lurking in their minds waiting for her to tell them it was their turn while she busied herself with online school work. Both Mammon and Levi made sure to rub their necks against hers in order to consistently scent her everyday, which she allowed as they basked in her attention especially happy if their younger brothers happened to be present as they did so.

It was particularly late one night when she finally finished up all her schoolwork and tasks, beginning to get ready for bed as she snuggled up into her sheets. Her shut-eye was short-lived when a muffled knock sounded from her door before Lucifer’s deep voice tickled her ears from behind it.

“MC? I’m coming in. Are you decent?” He questioned, causing her to quickly sit up.

“Yeah, I’m good!” She called out, Lucifer being quick to enter her room after her reply.

“I’m merely here to check on how you’re adjusting to temporary online school,” he informed, taking a seat beside her on the edge of her bed. He took it upon himself to gently smooth her ruffled hair as she thought of an answer.

“It’s going fine. A lot of work, but I’m getting used to it. Not to mention I get to spend more time here so I enjoy it nonetheless,” she grinned, leaning into his hand subconsciously.

“That’s good,” he chuckled warmly, tucking a strand behind her ear. “I trust my brothers have been giving you the rest you deserve?” He continued, eyebrow raising as he awaited any disagreement so he knew who to punish.

“They’ve been behaved. I can still feel that they’re a bit restless about waiting, but they’ve been perfectly patient,” she nodded with a giggle, both of them not noticing the closing distance between them.

“I’m glad,” Lucifer whispered, at this point the both of them were face to face, noses barely touching as they gazed at each other. He awaited for her to take the initiative, which she noted when she closed the distance between them and locked their lips together. The kiss didn’t involve tongue, but it was passionate and warm nonetheless, too enraptured with the feeling of each other to deepen it further. It seemed to last forever yet also too short, as they both pressed their foreheads against each other, breathing heavily. “Could I take you to my room?” he breathed out, meeting eyes with her. She slowly nodded and lightly laughed when Lucifer picked her up bridal style.

As he carried her to his room, taking long strides, a thought came to her mind which made her let out another laugh. “You know...in the human world when a person carries another to their room like this with the same intent we have they usually just got married,” she commented, watching his reaction. A smile lifted Lucifer’s lips as he looked down at her.

“One day. Sooner if you want, love. The sooner I get to claim you, whether it be through demon, angel, or human ways, the better.” He replied, setting her down on his bed as her face heated up at his reply. Noting her embarrassment, he pressed his lips against hers, hovering over her as she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. Pulling away, he began peppering kisses down her jaw to her neck and ending at her collarbone before meeting eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked softly as he scanned all her features for any indication of doubt.

“Yes...I’m sure,” she breathed out followed by a yelp when Lucifer quickly held onto her waist and flipped them so now she was on top of him. He looked up at her with a lopsided grin, eyes strangely playful.

“Then, like you said before, it’ll be on your own terms,” Lucifer stated, hands on both sides of her waist while his thumb slowly hiked up her camisole. “Please have your way with me...master,” he sighed out causing a bolt of pleasure to run through MC’s spine.

She was quick to react at his request, unbuttoning his shirt as record speed as she dipped down to his chest to suckle and nip at his skin. Trailing downward towards his pelvis, she pressed a gentle kiss at where his v-line began before looking up. Meeting eyes with Lucifer, she was surprised to see such a vulnerable gaze on the eldest brother’s face, his cheeks blushed from anticipation. Running at the mound in his pants, she was surprised to feel how rock-hard he was as he let out a choked groan. He was trying to hold back his voice. Oh, she couldn’t let that happen. “What would you like me to do, Luci~?” She cooed, gently rolling her palm against his erection as he scrunched his eyes shut at the feeling.

“U-Use our pact on me, I want to be completely at your mercy...master,” he pleaded, trying to raise his hips to get more friction, which she smirked at.

“Alright then, if that’s what you want,” MC shrugged before quickly pulling down both his pants and boxers in one fluid motion, making Lucifer gasp as his cock sprang free. Pumping the length of it with both hands, Lucifer’s one hand gripped at the sheets underneath him while the other was pressed against his mouth to quiet his mewls. “Ah ah, put your hands down,” she commanded, Lucifer automatically complying as both their pact marks glowed. His eyes rolled back at the feeling of the pact buzzing through him, the feeling of complete powerlessness towards his master. “No holding back your voice, you’re going to be as loud and noisy as possible when I’m pleasuring you,” she continued her commands, stopping her hand movements which made Lucifer cry out loudly and try to buck his hips into her hand, failing when she pulled her hand away altogether. Grinning when she saw her orders were working, she pressed a sloppy kiss on Lucifer’s lips as he tried to chase her when she pulled away. “Seeing all the precum coming out of you, I think you’re prepped enough, am I right?” She questioned while taking off her clothes agonizingly slow as he watched, mouth watering at the sight. He nodded vigorously. “Use your words,”

“Yes! Yes, I’m ready, master!” Lucifer yelled out, throwing his head back when he felt her tease her entrance with the head of his cock.

“I wonder if your younger brothers can hear just how much of a good boy you’re being for me,” MC commented before slamming herself down on him, resulting in them both crying out loudly as pleasure wrecked through both their bodies. “A-Ah, you feel so good, Luci~” she stuttered out, starting to slowly go up and down the length of him as he held on to her hips. “Such a good boy for me,” she praised, lifting both his hands over his head as she interlocked their lips, this one full of tongue and groans. She dipped down to one of his nipples, suckling on them as he let out rapid cries from his lips. He loved the feeling of how exposed he was with his hands over his head, keeping them there even when MC pulled her hands away.

“Yes! F-Faster, h-harder~!” Lucifer whined which she complied to. Picking up the pace, she bounced on top of him, grinding against him every once and a while as the room filled with sounds of slapping skin and noisy cries spilling from both their lips. “I-I’m cumming, master! Can I please spill it inside? Please!” He begged, knowing he couldn’t hold it in much longer.

“Do it! Claim my insides, Lucifer!” MC replied, nearing her peak as well. Lucifer met each of her bounces with a thrust of his own as they both chased their highs, both of them coming undone with she harshly bit into his chest. Ecstasy wrecked through them as Lucifer let out a long and loud moan, his bottom half spasming as he spilled his seed inside as she clamped on top of him. Both their eyes had rolled back, MC continuing to lazily bounce on top of him as they both rode out their highs. She promptly fell against his chest, gently licking where she bit him as the both of them breathed heavily. After a few comfortable minutes of silence had past, MC pushed herself up to be face to face with Lucifer. “Hey, Luci...could I...have my way with your ass too?” She asked boldly, watching as his eyes widened for a second before feeling the way he twitched where he was still inside her.

“I suppose you can...” Lucifer drawled out, feeling himself hardening with every passing second. “I do have some, ahem, equipment in my nightstand,” his eyes flitting to the dark wood beside him as MC’s eyes lit up.

“Ooh, you naughty boy~” she teased, promptly raising herself off him before making her way to the drawer.

“A-Ah, don’t get off so fast like that,” he hissed, now being able to see his hardened length and both of their intermingled essences coating it, which he inevitably found attractive. MC hummed in reply, too busy rummaging through the contents of the drawer, allowing Lucifer to have a full view of her ass which he appreciated immensely. Watching her with amused eyes, his eyes followed her movements when she held up a newly bought realistic strap-on and a bottle of lube. Oh jeez, why did she have to choose something so massive, not to mention something he hadn’t built the courage to use on himself just yet.

“Seeing the array of ‘equipment’, as you call it, I assume pleasuring yourself through the backdoor isn’t new to you?” She giggled, raising an eyebrow as she looked at the way his mouth was agape while watching her put it on.

“Nothing more than the usual buttplug or vibrator,” Lucifer whispered out, watching as she scooted closer. “And definitely nothing as massive as that,” he continued, hissing suddenly at how cold the lube was when she applied it to his hole.

“Now you know how I feel,” MC teased, rubbing soothing motions on his inner thigh as she prepped him with a finger, more following after that as she continued to stretch him out. He covered his eyes with his forearm at the feeling, breathing out slowly as his body relaxed from her gentle touch. “I’ll be gentle,” she assured, pressing gentle kisses over his thighs but tilting her head to the side when she saw the turmoil in his eyes. “Would you rather not?” She asked softly, stopping her touches as she looked at him, awaiting his reply patiently.

“N-no...that’s not it,” he mumbled out, the way he was acting now was in stark contrast of how he usually was, so she was enjoying it. He was just so cute. “What if I don’t want you to be gentle...” he trailed off, averting his gaze and trying his best to ignore the painful need for the feeling of being full as well as release.

MC giggled, pressing a brief kiss on his lips as he made eye contact with her again. “Just direct me how you want it like we did before, okay?” She responded. He nodded, cueing her to start her caresses again. “Okay, I’ll need you to get on your knees,” she directed, him quickly complying as he did so, holding himself up with his elbows as he lifted his ass into the air. Anticipation and excitement surged through Lucifer’s body as MC pulled her fingers away when she felt he was prepped enough. Squeezing a generous amount of lube on her hand, she applied it to the strap-on then positioned herself at his entrance. As MC gently began to push it inside, Lucifer gripped at the pillows underneath him at the mix of pain and pleasure of feeling stretched. Taking a couple seconds to sheathe the whole length of it inside him, she stopped her movements once it was complete and waited for him to adjust as quiet sighs left his mouth.

Lucifer was quick to adapt, beginning to rock himself back against it in desperate need for her to move. “Please...move,” he pleaded, continuing his motions before MC stopped him with her hands on his hips. Before he could protest the lack of movement, she slowly began to thrust deeply into him, making him let out a low groan as his head fell forward. Wanting to see his face, she pulled at his hair to raise his head up resulting in a whine to spill out his mouth at the feeling. She reveled in the sight of his lidded eyes and blushed cheeks, mouth agape from ecstasy as she continued to rut into him. Quickening the speed, more noises spilled from Lucifer’s mouth as MC began visibly sweating, with both Levi and Lucifer she realized this was a lot more work than she realized but she enjoyed the reward of hearing their voices from it. Encasing Lucifer’s cock with her fist, she pumped it in rhythm with her thrusts, noting that he was close when she felt it twitch in her hand. He was reveling in all the stimulation, his arms had long gave out on him resulting in his cheek being pressed against the mattress as he moved in tune with every snap of MC’s hips, the bed creaking underneath them, he was pleasantly surprised that someone as frail as her could claim him so well. MC completely pulled herself out of him, barely allowing him to whine at the loss of fullness, before ramming the full length back in all at once, successfully pounding into his prostate in one fluid motion as well as causing him to come undone. A string of loud mewls, curses, and her name mingled in between, spilled out his mouth along with a bit of drool as he came all over his stomach and the sheets, finishing so hard some of it even ending up on his face.

MC pulled out of him slowly, setting the strap-on aside as she gently laid him down on the bed. She started to wipe him off, cooing words of praise as she did so. He watched her with a glinted gaze, he was so soft when he was with her. Sitting up halfway, he pulled her in for a passionate kiss after she had cleaned it up. Laying on his chest, she looked up at him as he smoothed her hair. “You did very well, master,” he teased with a chuckle as her face heated up. She averted her gaze in an embarrassed manner but Lucifer was quick to pull her face up by her chin as he kissed her forehead. “I love you, MC. Endlessly and irrevocably so,” he stated, his voice deep and warm as he looked at her with such an intimate gaze that she knew she mirrored as well.

“I love you too, Lucifer,” she replied, bringing a hand to his cheek. She could see the endless love in Lucifer’s eyes, but there was something else there as well, a look that indicated he had a plan from the beginning.

“I love you so much that I can’t help but be a little irked that I wasn’t your first scenter, especially since it ended up being Mammon out of all my younger brothers,” he tsked, red eyes boring into hers.

“Hey! Mammon is great,” she defended the second-born which made Lucifer lift an eyebrow.

“Hm? Is my dearest human really defending someone else while we’re currently entangled with one another?” Lucifer questioned. Before she could reply, he had her wrists pinned against the bed as he hovered over her. “While I thoroughly enjoyed what we did prior, I do believe my little one needs a little...punishment,” he whispered into her ear before gently licking the lobe. She shivered at the feeling, already feeling aroused at the contrast from how he was before to now. He continued leaving nips and marks against her skin, swirling his tongue around her breasts before flipping her onto her stomach to trail more kisses down her spine. She was too lost in bliss to notice the handcuffs Lucifer had placed on each of her wrists, only realizing when she heard the multiple clicks of them locking onto the bed frame.

“What are you doing-ah!” MC cried out when Lucifer began leaving soft kisses starting from her ankle and up. He gave a special amount of attention to her inner thighs as she let out quiet pants, but that was quick to turn into a yelp when he bit into the soft skin harshly, leaving a prominent mark of where his teeth once were.

“Merely teaching my darling a lesson,” Lucifer purred, before lacing a satin blindfold around MC’s eyes. “Red, yellow, green, okay?” He reassured, placing a chaste kiss on the nape of her neck as she nodded. He smiled at her warmly before pulling an item from his bedside drawer, running it up her leg and stopping to press it against her sex. It was the irrefutable feeling of cold leather against her heat that made her hiss, reminding her of his gloves he seldom took off except for this moment. “Now, I believe eight hits from the rider’s crop will suffice,” he whispered lowly into her ear as she shivered from anticipation. “One for being too much of a slut to be a good girl and wait for me to be your first scenter, especially since it ended up being the second eldest out of all people,” he stated, quickly followed by the loud smack of leather hitting her ass before he slowly rubbed circles on the blooming red area. “Two for making it so I had to choose to allow Levi, the third eldest, to be your second,” he continued, hitting the other side this time as she jolted, feeling herself getting wetter by the second. “Three, four, five, and six for when my remaining brothers claim you while I have to just sit back and allow them,” the back to back hits causing her to call out his name. “Seven for those oh so innocent touches Simeon gives you that both him and I know isn’t the case,” his voice had turned into a growl as he was reminded of it. “And eight for those bedroom eyes you always seem to give that insufferable sorcerer from across the room,” he finished with a final stinging smack, following it with a hand soothing her red skin paired with kisses. “Is my master still good to continue?” He teased lifting off her blindfold to see her teary-eyed state, licking his lips at the sight.

“Yes...please,” she pleaded, sticking her ass up in the air desperately as he chuckled. He was quick to place both his hands on her hips, positioning his painfully erect tip at her entrance.

“My master is such a good slut for my cock, isn’t that right?” Lucifer mocked, watching as she tried to push herself against him but to no avail.

“Yes, yes, I am. Lucifer, please!” MC begged. Satisfied, the avatar of pride thrust the whole length of his dick inside her as they both groaned at the feeling.

“This angle is...!” He choked out in between quickening thrusts as MC couldn’t get words to leave her mouth, only high-pitched whines. Keeping one hand pressed against her hip, the other groped at her ass and trailed up her spine as watched his shaft disappear inside her, the sight resulting in him to quicken at an impossible pace. The bed creaked and slammed against the bedroom wall as the handcuffs clacked against itself. “Yeah? Are you enjoying being taken by me so roughly, love? You’re mine, got it? No matter who else scents you, you’ll always be mine,” Lucifer growled as he reveled in the way she tightened around him due to his words and just how loud the both of them were being, his brothers could hear him claiming her without a doubt. When he felt her tighten yet again he pounded into her harder to chase his own high that he knew was so near. “Are you going to cum? Okay then do it with me. Come on, master, clamp around my cock while I paint your insides,” he yelled before the tiny thread holding them back snapped and they both came down hard. Lucifer bit into her shoulder to muffle his sounds while she spasmed underneath him before collapsing against the bed.

Pulling out of her, Lucifer was quick to unlock the handcuffs around her wrist and gently rub the slight red marks that appeared before falling down beside her. He scooped her up into his arms and proceeded to rub his neck against hers to fully scent her. “You did so well, darling,” he praised, leaving kisses as he continued his actions. MC hummed in reply, too tired to reply in words as her eyes began to flutter shut. “I love you, MC,” he whispered, fully planning on lovingly watching her sleep as he continued his scenting.

Just as she was about to go to dreamland, she mustered up enough energy to say: “I love you too,” and Lucifer was hers infinitely.

thank you for getting this far into this LONG ASS piece! I’ve been genuinely annoyed and worried about how long this ended up but I also couldn’t get myself to shorten it so here it is! I hope you enjoyed this pure filth! oh & I’m sorry to those that have to scroll through this on their dash haha ☁️

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