#fic: lighting makes no sound (until it strikes)

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Golden Walkway

Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader (Reader is a teacher in Jackson, has long hair.) Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: It’s your birthday, Joel takes you out to the Tipsy Bison, kisses (and does more to) you in the rain, and takes you home to give you a gift (it's sex, the gift is sex). Also, the thought of Joel spitting whiskey in someone's mouth happened and I had to write it out. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Warnings: smut, drinking, consent first, degradation second, followed by so much praise, hair pulling, spitting, Joel calls you a slut, fingering against a brick wall, F receiving oral, I watched that doggy style Narcos gif (for research) a lot, unprotected p in v, apocalypse birth control (pulling out), Joel’s canon age, Reader’s in her 30’s. Words: 4,300 A/N: Hi! Welcome to my first published fic. I'm currently working on a grander scale fic with these two, I hope to have the first chapter out within the next couple of weeks. I just really wanted to get this out there! Thanks for reading and a big thank you to @ohheypedrito for all of her help and also to our phones for not overheating when I send 40 texts at once with ideas for fics. Hope you enjoy, can't even blame the feralness of this on the full moon.

Edit: I posted the Masterlist for Elks, my work these two are included in.

***

“Was turning 21 as fun as they’d show in movies back then?” You’re cuddled in next to Joel on his couch sketching in your notebook while Joel reads a book about Native Americans that you found him. You always do this, a random question or thought to break the comfortable silence.   

“Not for me, bought a 12 pack of Bud Light and split it on my porch with Tommy. Sarah was only a toddler then and I had work in the morning. Didn’t have the money or the time to go to a bar. ‘Course I don’t think a lotta people did anything the way they’d show in the movies.”

“I always wanted to have my 21st birthday at a bar, ya’ know? Wait until the clock strikes midnight and order a weird named shot.”

“Well, I reckon we could do that at the Bison tomorrow night. Might not be your 21st but I’ll get you whatever you want to drink, and the best part is you can drink before midnight.” Joel pulls you in closer and kisses your forehead, “What do you say, let me take you out for your birthday sweetheart.”

“Yes, please,” you sigh into his shoulder, “sounds amazing.”

“Wear that little blue dress I know you have hanging in your closet.”

The drinks flowing through you making you downright giddy, alcohol making you bolder, your body and your inhibitions becoming looser, your hands becoming addicted to touching Joel, first his leg, then his thigh, now his lower stomach, right at his waistband. You haven’t been this tipsy in a long time, your face feeling flushed and red more from your desire than any drink you’ve had tonight.

“You better knock that off before I take you outside in the rain and fuck you against the building, darling,” Joel huffs into your ear. His fiery warning massaging your neck causing your heart rate cooled by your inebriation to pick up. 

“Sooo, keep going?” You slur back. 

“If that’s what you really want,” Joel puts a forceful squeeze on your upper thigh, a layer of your dress laying between his skin and your skin. If you weren’t both sitting at the bar, and maybe in one of the more darker corners of the saloon you’d surely hike your skirt up and let him learn just how bad you want him.

It feels so good to let go with him, to giggle openly at his jokes, stare at his profile as he talks with a friend or two who stop by to say hello, or place your hand on his broad back just because you want to touch his soft blue denim shirt. 

You watch as his tongue darts out and licks the leftover whiskey off his top lip, Joel’s movements becoming a little slower thanks to the amber liquid he’s been drinking all night. Some droplets glisten on his mustache, you fight every urge inside yourself to not lean over and lick them up. 

“It’s what I want,” you respond as you move your hand back and forth across his waistband.

“Jesus Christ, I’m about ready to throw you over my shoulder and run home,” Joel says as he takes your hand into his and pulls it away.

“Not so fast. You told me you’d fuck me in the rain, that’s what I want for my birthday,” you whisper into his ear with a breathy giggle.

“Can’t fuck you out here in public. Small town ‘n all, but I’ll make you feel good,” Joel takes a last swig of his drink, puts the glass down and knocks his fist on the bar to let the bartender know you two are leaving. He leans forward and drawls into your ear, “Now finish your drink if you want me to show you just how happy of a birthday I can give you.” 

You nod and gulp your drink down. You’re so wet, you don’t know if you’ve ever been this turned on before. Joel grabs your arm with the perfect amount of pressure, you’ve never been so happy to get outside into the pouring rain. 

——

It’s absolutely storming outside, your footsteps sloshing in the puddles on the ground. The rain pelting your’s and Joel’s bodies as you walk through late night Jackson. It feels like you’re the only two people in the whole town as you make your way farther away from the bar. The bulbs of the string lights reflecting off the water gathering on the sidewalks making your path towards Joel’s house golden. You don’t rush, the two of you not scared away by the downpour, the drops cooling your burning skin. Joel turns down the street before his, pulling you behind one of the storage buildings, it’s darker back here, practically pitch black thanks to the rain clouds blocking the moon and the nearest light source being three buildings down. You’re pushed up against the brick, Joel’s hand gently cradling your head to block it from hitting the wall, he’s such a gentleman. 

“Happy birthday baby, I need you to tell me you want this, ‘n you’re okay with this, I have plans for you and I need you to tell me you want it.” Joel instructs you, all you can see is his eyes and the faint lines of his facial hair, the rest of him camouflaged by the darkness surrounding the two of you. 

“I want it, more than anything. Please,” your voice straining as you beg. 

“Tell me you want me to have my way with you,” Joel speaks into your slack mouth as he rubs his arched nose against yours. 

“I want you to have your way with me,” you moan against his wet shirt, “so bad.”

“Good girl, now, m’not gonna fuck you here, because I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop and I need to have you in my bed tonight.” Joel starts to move his hand down your body lifting the hem of your dress. “But, you are going to cum for me right here.” Joel captures your mouth with his. His hand starts to trace the outline of your panties, you mew out a cry as his fingers slip through and begin to pet you right where you ache the most. His hands are so big, his fingers so long and thick, always putting the right amount of pressure, moving the way you need him to move. Joel Miller is a capable man, everyone knows that, but nobody, except for you, knows just how capable he is. 

Joel sticks a finger in you, though his finger is thick and feels so good, you need more to fill you. 

“Another,” you instruct in between fevered kisses. Your pussy clenches as Joel pushes another finger in you. “Yessss,” you moan out against his lips.

“That’s my good girl, gotta get you stretched out f’me.” Joel begins to kiss his way down your chin and neck stopping at your chest, your hard nipples jutting through your wet dress. Joel takes one into his mouth, sucking the fabric and your tit deeper into his mouth. The sloppy wet sounds of Joel’s suctions making you want him more.

“Another finger,” you shudder out. “Three? You really want it tonight, don’t you?” Joel mumbles against your chest as he sticks a third finger in. It burns, it burns in the best way. You’re ready for him, it’s what you’ve been waiting for all night. You bite down on your lip as your legs begin to shake, Joel can tell you’re right on the edge and twists his fingers inside of you as he finger fucks you harder. 

Your orgasm bursts forward your whole body going stiff as you try not to wail out into the night.

“That’s iiiiiit baby,” Joel pulls his fingers out of you and softly pets your pussy from hole to clit.

He removes his hand from between your legs bringing it up between the two of you resting his finger tips against your lips, you open your mouth and begin to lick. His tongue meeting yours as you both clean his thick digits covered in you. He takes his hand away leaving just your mouths to taste each other. His kiss turns tender, your kiss turns desperate.

Joel pulls away resting his forehead against yours. “My beautiful birthday girl. Let’s get you home, my gift’s not done.”

——

Your body practically chills with the promise of what is left to come. Joel grabs your hand and you take it depending on him to lead you to his home. Every step you take you feel your wet core heavy with lust, you’re soaked from the rain and from Joel, if you could drown like this, you would go down with the sinking ship. His house comes into view, your body tingling in anticipation at the site as the both of you speed your footsteps up in perfect agreement. 

He throws open the gate, you’re following so close you almost trip on his heels making your way up the walkway and steps. He fumbles for his keys and unlocks the doors, you take the opportunity to run your hands all over his back and sides, rubbing the wet cloth of his shirt as it molds to his body. The door swings open and you both shuffle into his living room gasps escaping your mouths, both out of breath from your dash home and your mutual want for each other. You step out of your wet shoes and shake your hair out. 

“Take your dress off, right now.” Joel huffs out as he tosses his keys on the console table and begins to kick his boots off. 

You strip yourself of your baby blue frock as fast as you can. You’ve never had a reason to wear such a revealing piece of clothing. You don’t know why you held onto it, let alone grabbing it from the communal clothing rack, never thinking anything, or anyone, would be worthy enough for you to dress up for. Joel’s worthy, so worthy. 

“Feel like I’m a little underdressed here…” your words grab Joel’s attention as he moves his hands up to his chest to begin to unbutton his denim shirt. He gets one button taken care of before he rips it open. Shame, it’s your favorite shirt, you'll have to fix it for him later. You watch as a button rolls underneath a table, before you can note where it lands, your attention turns back to Joel to find him stepping out of his jeans and underwear leaving him completely naked. 

What a sight, what a fucking sight. There’s only a lamp on in the room, Joel’s body being cast in amber color and shadow, one side of him on full display glowing in the light, the other more difficult to discern. He moves forward stalking you. “Now I’m the underdressed one here. Take them off for me,” he says as he moves to pick up a bottle of whiskey from his shelf. 

You follow his instructions shucking your underwear down your legs and leaving them pooled at your feet. 

“Good girl,” Joel says as he begins to walk towards you unscrewing the lid off the bottle. He stands in front of you and takes a drink. “Open your mouth,” he orders as he grabs your hair and tips your head back. He takes another pull from the bottle, this time he raises his mouth over your mouth and begins to dribble drips of whiskey down from his mouth into yours. A moan raises from your throat, causing Joel to tighten his hold on your hair and arch your head back even more. He spits the rest of the whiskey straight into your mouth, you happily swallow his spit and liquor down. He unwinds his hands from your hair, takes another drink and kisses you, the whiskey and his tongue spilling into your mouth. Joel pulls back and takes his last swig before resting the bottle on the table. “Get upstairs.”

You don’t think you’ve ever run so fast in your life, tripping over your feet as you rush your way up, Joel’s naked form hunting you like prey up each step.

The sight of Joel’s bed brings a new wave of goosebumps to your skin. 

“Bend over on the bed darlin,” Joel turns on a lamp in the corner and pulls it closer. “Need to lick and fuck you with my tongue.” 

You move over to Joel’s side of the bed and bend forward, your ass sitting high in the air and your face in the sheets, you inhale the smell of Joel on his sheets. You swing your hips in giddy anticipation of what’s about to happen. 

You feel his body lean over yours, his erection laying over your lumbar. “Okay baby, once again, need you to tell me you’re good with me having my way with your body,” he tempts into your ear. 

“Fuck, y—yes, fuck, of course I am good. So good.”

“That’s my girl,” Joel’s heavy body lifting off of yours as he kneels between your legs. You feel his hot breaths on you where you’re aching for him the most, you widen your stance egging him on to touch you. “Look at you,” Joel licks your thigh, “so fuckin’ wet you’ve spilled out into your thighs.” 

You scream a pleasured yell as Joel’s teeth bite down into the flesh of your thigh and sucks your skin into his mouth. The pain is perfect. He loosens his bite, kissing and licking the spot, the sensation making your body quiver. 

“Okay baby?”

“Y-y-yessss,” you answer.

“Whaddo you need sweetheart?” 

“Lick me,” you beg out, “please.”

“‘Course. Where do you want me to lick you?” Joel questions as he nuzzles his head against your ass cheek, giving it a small bite.

“My pussy. Pleeeaaase,” you’d say you sound pathetic but you couldn’t care less, your lust overshadowing any type of pride.

“Mm, you sound so needy baby, you sound like you really need my tongue on you, huh?” His teasing drawl drives you crazy, your body won’t stop moving, absolutely radiating tensity from your want.

“Please,” you implore, sobbing out. 

“Alright baby,” his hands grab your cheeks and spreads them, widening his view of you. “Prettiest thing I ever seen, love your pussy.”

This act feels so depraved, everything on display for him, legs and cheeks spread wide, your pussy exhibited for him like it’s an art piece.

You literally scream into the bed, biting down on Joel’s comforter as his tongue finally meets your core. This, thiiiiiiis is what you’ve been wanting all night. Joel moans against you, not being able to hold himself back as he tastes you, his fevered licks exploring your cunt, his large tongue mapping every inch of you. He’s absolutely conquering you, the noises of his lips and tongue smacking against your wetness soundtracking his journey. 

He can feel you getting close your hips beginning to cant as your orgasm begins to crest. You knew it wouldn’t take long, between the alcohol buzz and Joel’s tongue lapping up your wetness and cum from earlier, you knew you’d be a goner. 

“Mmf, cum for me,” Joel speaks against you, his mouth full of you, too busy to pull away to clearly speak. You don’t think he can get any closer to you, his tongue working your orgasm up in intensity with each swirl and dash against your clit. You feel it, it’s here. Your legs instantly collapse, thankful that the rest of your body is resting on the bed. Your eyes tightly squeeze shut and then begin to rapidly blink as your orgasm shatters through you. Joel flattens his tongue against your clit as it pulses. You’re too turned on to make a noise, Joel stepping in for you and groaning as your juices seep out of you. 

“Did so good baby,” Joel says leaving one last kiss on your clit before standing up behind you. You want to flip over to look at him, you haven’t seen his face since you laid down on the bed. You have no energy, you’re just a shell of a woman, the only sensations you can feel is the pool of wetness in between your legs and your light inebriation.

Your attention gets pulled to the sound of Joel spitting in his hand, followed by a hiss coming out of his mouth. When you realize exactly what he’s doing, you summon the strength needed to turn over. You flip over, your back thudding on the mattress your legs still spread wide, feet resting on the floor. And there…. there…. THERE he is, standing in the middle of his room, one large hand wrapped around his hard cock softly stroking as he watches you with hooded eyes. You know you just came, but the sight makes your pussy clench with desire. 

Joel jerks himself off as his eyes roam your exhausted form. “Been thinking ‘bout this all day. You all laid out in front of me heaving for air after cummin’ all over my tongue,” slow strokes matching his lazing words. “Just about canceled our night out when you opened your door in that little blue dress, looked like you were wearing the sky, baby.” 

You bite your lip as all of your senses are so overtly overwhelmed by lust. The sight of Joel’s handsome face watching you, the hazel flecks in his eyes twinkling in the golden light of the lamp. The smell of the rain on your skin mixed with the heady scent of your arousal and Joel’s sheets. The taste of Joel’s whiskey tongue still in your mouth. The sound of Joel’s fist pumping along his hard cock. The feel of the aftershocks of your orgasm still quaking your body. It’s so fucking much, you need Joel inside you. The thought of feeling him stretch you causes a whimper.

“Yeah baby? Havin’ a hard time over there?” Joel stops stroking his hard length, his hand pauses on his shaft. “You want me to fuck you now?” 

“Pleeeease,” you keen out. 

“Alright sweetheart.” Joel confidently strides over to you, dick still in hand. He stops right at the edge of your feet. “Turn back around ’n get on all fours in the middle of the bed f’me.” 

You follow his instructions eager to please. The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can feel Joel enter you. 

“Good girl,” he praises as the mattress dips lower with his weight behind you.

Your heart is pounding so loud, your whole body thrumming, you gulp down a breath of air trying to calm your need. You feel Joel’s cock brush against your ass cheek, he’s so close to fucking you.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck you real good and hard now. Happy birthday baby.”

And just like that, Joel buries his cock inside of you, you’re absolutely stretched around him. Your clit already worked over by Joel’s tongue, now your hole deliciously stinging while it flutters around his cock. He begins thrusting, tender and slow full strokes. Entering and exiting, swirling the head of his cock right at the entrance before plunging back in because he knows you love the feeling. Joel’s groans and your cries join in song as he begins to pound faster, the sound of your bodies slapping together match the rhythm. 

“Feel so fucking good, always so perfect for me. S’a good girl, always take it so good,” Joel grits out. 

He grabs your hair and wraps it around his fist as he pounds into you. “No one knows how fucking slutty you get for me behind these walls. They think you’re one of those innocent little teachers.” Joel pulls your hair harder causing a scream of ecstasy from you. “You love this, don’t you?”

You do. It’s so rough, so different from how gentle he always is with you. It feels like a luxury to be treated this way by him. 

“Y-y-y-yes, God I love it,” you whimper.

“That’s right. That’s what I like to hear. So pretty so smart. So much smarter than me, now I’m makin’ you stupid with my cock, right baby?” 

Everybody knows Joel Miller as the strong, silent type, a man of few words, somebody who doesn’t do chit chat. But with you in his bed naked and wailing as he slams into you, Joel Miller won’t shut up.

“Doin’ so good for me. So pretty, so perfect f’me. So wet for me.”   

“You made me so wet earlier, I was afraid I was going to leave a mark on the barstool.” Your words coming out as tortured weeps, so lost in your ecstasy you struggle with every word spoken. 

“Fuuuuuck.” That got him good. He pounds you even harder, the bed frame shaking violently against his wall, your body and cunt acting as if it’s the only barrier between Joel knocking a hole in the plaster. “Had I fuckin’ known I would have made you stick your face on that chair and made you lick yourself up as I fuck you against it.”

That’s it, that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. Joel’s deep timbered accent grunting those deviant words as he grabs you and begins to roll his hips into your cunt. Your body is strung so tight and rigid in all places besides your hips and core, pumping and rolling along with Joel’s as he fucks you. You’re close again, your panting breaths letting Joel know. 

“Baby, if you gotta cum, cum,” his grip on your hips pressure into you. 

“Going … going.. going to,” the only words you can say as your third orgasm radiates out of your body, your pussy is the epicenter, tingles firing through your veins, your hands fisting the blankets at your detonation. Slack jawed and fucked senseless you rally the strength to not disintegrate and fall into Joel’s bed. Your world has been shattered by Joel, but your body survives for him, your legs and arms shaking under gravity and your weight as they deal with the fallout. 

“C’mere baby, lemme help you.” Of course he can tell you’re struggling. He reaches his hands around, clutching your stomach and pulling you up against him. Your back up against his chest, his hand seeking out your breast, the other wrapping around your torso and clutching you to him. He holds you as he fucks into you, his nose brushing against your ear as he puffs and grunts against your neck. “Fucking. Love. You. So. Much.” Each word matching a thrust into you. Your hands find his and grip them, you’ve never felt more loved and protected. Joel Miller has got you.

You feel the familiar shudder in Joel’s movements as he edges close to his climax. His labored breaths getting louder and more fevered against your neck. You’re absolutely wrecked, but the angle of Joel’s cock inside of you mixed with the feeling of the shudder in his movements as he edges himself brings forth another orgasm. Words are gone, just sounds, whatever your throat can muster up and out of your mouth. 

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it,” Joel repeats. His hands squeezing yours so tightly, his chest heaving against your back, his strong thighs straddling yours, his nose pressing into your ear. You feel his body tense as he pulls out. His release coating your pussy as his whole body surrounds you. Hot breaths huffing against the side of your face in between featherlight kisses. “Love you,” a whisper in your ear so delicate and sweet as he lets go of your hands. Your body falling forward without his support, your arms catching you before crashing down on the bed. Joel gets up with a groan as you lay yourself down on your stomach, taking the opportunity to stretch your legs out before rolling over on your side to watch Joel. He stands arms akimbo in the middle of the room. He’d look like a Greek statue if his shoulders weren’t rising and falling rapidly as he catches his breath. He’s gorgeous and he looks just as wrecked as you feel. 

“Probably shouldn’t have gotten up as quick as I did,” he chuckles. “Damn well feel like I’m standing in the middle of a earthquake.” You love the casual banter he puts forth seconds after being deep inside you, his cum still covering your core. This is love. 

You smile at him, your cheek resting on your hand as a makeshift pillow. You’re exhausted… the whole night and your four orgasms catching up with you. Eyes feeling heavy, matching your limbs you begin to drift off. 

A wet sensation in between your legs jerks you awake. “Sorry baby, just want to clean you up,” a whisper just as light as Joel’s tender attention as he washes you lulls you back to sleep. 

——

“Baby,” Joel’s low voice gently wakes you up along with a soft kiss to your forehead.

You groan as you stretch your sore muscles under the sheet, opening your eyes to find Joel gazing down lovingly at you. He’s backlit by the filtered morning sunlight shining in through his bedroom windows. What a way to wake up. “Happy birthday sweetheart, I’d let you sleep all day but I need to give you my present.” His face is so bright and cheerful, a boost in your confidence provided by just how happy he looks when he’s with you. 

“Thought you gave me your present already last night,” you yawn. 

“Sweet girl, that was a present for both of us. Now come on, get up.” You grab his offered hand and reluctantly get out of bed. Joel wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, his hands splayed across your back as you nuzzle your face in his warm chest. “Happy birthday.”

A/N: THANK YOU for reading my first ever fic. My inbox is always open. :)

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #elks #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal

[after-witch]

Eight Deadly Mistakes [Yandere Alastor x Reader]

Title: Eight Deadly Mistakes [Yandere Alastor x Reader]

Synopsis: You've made a lot of mistakes in Hell, but this one has to be the worst.

Birthday fic for @absolute-flaming-trash who is absolutely awesome!

word count: 1899ish

notes: yandere, abuse, obsessive behavior, humiliation, I'm joining the 'alastor yanks reader by a chain' club

Hell was full of mistakes, and you figured that yours amounted to a sizable chunk--particularly since meeting Alastor. Of the countless mistakes within that particular bucket, there were at least seven distinct mistakes that led you to this very moment. 

One. It was a mistake to thank Alastor for holding the door open for you, the day you entered some run-down market in search of a book. Your voice had been surprised and sweet and ever-so-thankful.

Two. It was a mistake to let him strike up a conversation with you a few minutes later, and not pay attention to the horrified looks that even the most hardened patrons in the shop gave you.

Three. It was a mistake, later on, to think he was your friend; to believe that the shared meals, the late night discussions about music and books and little topics you’d forgotten you enjoyed, were a sign of pleasant companionship. 

Four. It was a mistake to sell your soul to Alastor, after his honeyed offers of protection from the seedier elements of Hell, his casual assurance that your friendship would go unaltered. 

Five. It was a mistake to move into the Hotel when Alastor asked, and not think there was some ulterior motive behind it all. 

Six. It was a mistake to think Alastor was actually kind, just because he was helping Charlie with her hotel, and seemingly protected those within it. 

Seven. It was a mistake to, on this day, ask Alastor if he would give your soul back, now that you’d decided to aim for heaven. Because you were friends, and he cared about you, and therefore, he should want what’s best for you--which is to get (you pardon yourself the phrase) the hell out of Hell. 

Every one of these seven mistakes--the last, you must admit, being the most significant--led you to here. 

To you, trembling on the floor, the tangy copper of blood in your mouth from where your teeth rattled against the end of your tongue when Alastor’s palpable anger made your knees literally buckle. 

“I… I don’t understand,” you spit out, voice trembling as much as your body. “I thought--I thought you…” The words don’t need to be spoken for Alastor to know them.

I thought you liked me, I thought you were my friend, I thought you would be happy to do it.

“You thought what, exactly, my dear?” 

A low electric current buzzed in the air, making the lights flicker once, twice, and again before he continued.

“That I would simply let you go?” He laughed, but there was nothing pleasant about the sound. It was full of mockery and something else, something metal and cold. 

Your stomach squirmed awfully. It was not a feeling you’d ever experienced around Alastor, despite some other’s trepidation around him. He’d never given you a reason to feel that way.

Until today.

Until you asked Alastor to let your soul go, and the room seemed to fizz with electrical interference that left the lights sparking and 

Your eyes went wide. And your brain, stupid thing that it was, pieced things together that you had been all too naively eager to ignore until now. 

The stories of Alastor’s past that you’d heard in snatches and dismissed as jealous fantasy, probably all deriving from Vox and his ilk. The way people who knew Alastor from before his sabbatical tended to steer as clear of him as possible. 

Or how Alastor always insisted you try the things he liked--clothes he left in your room (even before you told him where you lived, before the Hotel); music he insisted you’d admire more than your current collection of alt-rock CDs; foods that were tastier, he said, than your favorites. 

“I didn’t think--” The words stuck to your mouth until you forced them out. “I didn’t think you’d be mad that I wanted to get better, repent and--and get out of here.”

Alastor, despite his smile, did not look impressed.

You didn’t have time to flinch as he swung his microphone down and out, pressing it against your throat.

“Don’t act surprised now. After all,” The microphone dug into the flesh of your neck, lifting your chin until you were looking at him through blurs of oncoming tears. He continued, voice softer, missing most of its usual radio sound. “You made me like this.” 

You wanted to shake your head, but the microphone kept you only capable of looking up and straight at him. His smile made you sick. 

“I didn’t do anything,” you said, voice light, but not quite naive anymore; you didn’t fully believe the words now, and your voice wavered. 

Even if you didn’t mean to do anything to draw the attention of the radio demon, that didn’t mean Alastor wasn’t clearly--wasn’t clearly… affected by you. In some way that you didn’t understand; moreover, you didn’t want to understand it. 

What you thought had been a surprising friendship made in the bowels of hell was something else entirely, and you hated the newfound knowledge. 

Whatever it was that Alastor actually felt for you, it was dark and awful, like sprinkles of mold you find underneath the bathroom sink. Damp and rotting and unwanted. 

“You,” he said, pressing the microphone harder into your throat for emphasis, “have been quite the busy bee when it comes to me, my dear.” He sighed in a way you’d heard him do a hundred times before. But now it feels wrong; sticky, oozing. “I’d never given much thought to… certain endeavors before you. And now I find myself distracted.”

His neck turned again, cracking, and a song began to play from somewhere. 

“Distracted?” You asked, feeling sicker and sicker. 

“Oh, yes,” he answered, dragging out the word. “Quite unlike me, if I must admit it. And yet there’s something about you that’s been making me…”

He didn’t finish. The song got louder, mingling in with the ambience of the room. It was almost soft and wistful, except for the lyrics that made your skin feel cold, repeating on a loop.

And you’re mine… mine… mine…

“And you thought…” His voice continued, each word punctuated by an awful radio crackle that made goosebumps blossom up your arms. “That you would get to simply leave me after all I’ve put into you?”

All he’s put into you.

The dresses, the food, the guidance on what to listen to and how to dance; who to talk to and who to avoid. Advice from a friend, you thought. Advice from someone stronger and maybe smarter.

“Well,” he said, almost cheery now, pulling the microphone away from your sore and probably bruising throat. “I trust you’ve learned your lesson and we can avoid this…” A crackle, short and low. “Unpleasantness in the future.”

You should have said that yes, you learned your lesson; yes, you won’t ask again. But you didn’t. Instead you swallowed hard, feeling the ache from where his microphone pressed in, and added an eighth mistake to your list.

“We can avoid it if you release me from my contract--if you give me back my soul.” 

“Well,” he repeated. And this time, his voice was muffled by a brief, shrieking radio frequency. “Perhaps a reminder is in order.”

The reminder came with cold metal choking your throat; a vivid green chain led straight from your imprisoned neck to Alastor’s hand. 

One trembling hand came up to feel the collar. It was real. It was there. And the chain, too, was solid and unbreakable. 

It was a shocking sight. 

You’d seen the chains of other owned souls before. Angel’s, in particular, when you’d accidentally witnessed an argument between him and Valentino. But there had never been a singular thought given to the fact that you, too, must have had chains. Alastor never showed them to you and until now, had never seen fit to remind you about your lack of freedom.

Until today.

Your surprise and fear made you stupid, and you tried to yank yourself away from him; he held fast to the chain and began to wind it around his hand, forcing you to look upwards, speaking all the while.

“You are never to ask me to release your contract again. And you are certainly never to even entertain the silly notion of leaving me, now or in the future. Do you understand?”

An awful, slimy feeling overtook your gut. He owned you, and he had owned you for some time. You just had been closing your eyes to that reality.

A reality that was now choking you.

“Well?”

You nodded. You didn’t think you could speak, not now. Not to him. 

But it wasn’t good enough. He yanked on the chain, choking you. 

“I don’t believe I heard you, dear.”

“Yes.” The word was spoken through gritted teeth. It tasted like tears. 

“Yes what?”  The grin on his smile widened deceptively as he yanked against the chain, jerking your head upward. It hurt inside and out. 

It was so unfair, that your heart could hurt like this, even after you were dead. 

“Yes, sir.”

That should have been the end of it. He should have let go of the chain and let you slink off in fear and shame, off to sob in your bedroom over the sudden turn of events. 

Instead, he leaned down, and for a moment, his eyes glowed in a painful flash. 

“You can do better than that, my dear, can’t you, to the person that owns your very soul?” 

His hand wrapped around the chain, shortening it even further as he leaned in so close you could smell the rot around him. But it didn’t matter that you wanted to pull away from it, because he held you--literally, held the chains that kept you bound to him. Forever. 

Yes, he owned your soul. He owned you.

“Yes, boss?” you murmured, copying what Husker sometimes said; you were unable to look at him anymore as humiliated, hot tears spilled down your cheeks. 

In an instant, the chain was gone, and you fell to the ground with a clumsy thud. Your chin hit the hard floor before you could brace yourself with your hands. 

“Wonderful,” he said, praising, almost cooing. His neck cracked to the side and you imagined his bones shifting in impossible ways to achieve it. “I suppose I should remind you who you belong to when you get out of sorts like this, my dear.” His smile widened. “A healthy reminder now and then is good for the soul!” 

He laughed. Whether he thought it was a joke or not was unclear. 

“Although, I hope I won’t have to remind you too soon. I do so enjoy your company more when you’re not being…” He waved his hand in the air, glancing up at the ceiling for effect. “Stubborn.” His eyes darted to you, accompanied by the faint sound of a radio hum. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” you breathed out without hesitation, unable to stop shaking from your position on the floor.

“Good girl,” he said, patting the air above your head. You watched his footsteps until he paused at the threshold of the door. You heard his neck snap as he turned it back around--you didn’t dare look up to see. 

“Don’t forget to tidy up before dinner.  I’ve left a dress in your bedroom that I’m sure will look lovely on you.”

#yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere #alastor x reader #afterwitch writes #/

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [COME UNBOUND HERE] ❞ — NSFW ; MDNI!

pairing: hotch x fem!bau!reader. summary: “completely self-reliant, you really don’t need me at all, do you?” in which hotch gets completely pussy whipped after seeing you taking down an unsub. content warnings: making out, foul language, sex, unprotected p in v with no mentions of birth control (no breeding kink just lazy writing), sub!hotch if you squint, switch!reader, nipple play, scratching, lip biting, THEY FUCK ALRIGHT. MDNI, this is a 18+ fic. word count: 1.7k a/n: requested by @mischiefmoons and her godsent filthy mind. i donnnt prooof read shiiiit.

aaron wasn’t one to admit to having a type, sure, he knows it’s human nature to look for similar traits when choosing partners throughout life, but he was a romantic at heart  (and a sweet talker at that!), he secretly enjoyed keeping the magic of just love alive, and more than that, he simply adored the way you would roll your eyes and laugh cruelly at him, your palm hitting his arm in a light slap each time he told you his type is you. 

truthfully though, most of that was all talk from his sweet soft spot for you, everyone knew exactly his type. 

he couldn’t help but fall for confidence, every time someone confident and beautiful laughed at his terrible dry jokes he would feel his lungs tighten up, that was definitely one of the first things that made him so drawn to you, the fact you were so funny and incredibly gorgeous resulting in his everlasting love and downright depraved lust for you. 

today though, aaron found out another trait of his ideal type: could easily overpower an unsub before himself could even get to his ankle holster for his gun, before he could even try to protect you. 

your competence was never a question, an ssa like the rest of the team, twice a year having no problem at all in your evaluations. but you were a liaison, you stayed put unless extremely necessary to have the whole team out, your experience level wasn’t the same. 

he did all he could to have your back, even before you started sharing hotel room beds, but hearing the man in front of him whine in pain after you twisted his arm, the sound of at least one of fingers cracking at your strength as you pushed him to the floor… you definitely didn’t need him to have your back, you did it yourself pretty well. 

he’s surely proud, but what floods his mind really, what is now burnt to his brain, what has probably changed his whole body chemistry at his point is the way your body moved to do it, your pants clinging more to your thighs, your breasts moving with your fast heart rate, your open cleavage blouse doing nothing to help his train of thought, nor did the hint of a grin in your lips as the unsub succumbed to your grip, complaining about the pain you were so easily causing. 

focus on the job, focus on the case, he tried hard to while he passed his handcuffs to you, but fuck, how could he when you looked so unbelievebly sexy doing something he has seen so many people do before?

how many times has he licked his lips in the past 20 minutes? he has lost count, but is the only way he has to ignore the way his mouth is drying at how aroused he was about to be if he didn’t control himself. if he didn’t focus on anything else. 

a few meditating breaths and unpleasant thoughts did the work for him, getting his priority back on track: the case was still going as far as he was concerned. it wasn’t done until the bau got back to the hotel. 

his avoidance to you at the precinct, not even catching him glancing as you worked didn’t strike you as odd, you were used to him needing his space and completely unaware of his conscious effort not to think of you. 

it’s a happy surprise when you hear his well known knock on your door not even half an hour after arriving at the hotel, his lips gluing to yours immediately, his hands strong in their hold of your face as he kicks the door closed.

you grin into the kiss, not at all opposed to how famished he seems for you, even though you don’t understand where it came from you more than willingly follow his lead, reaching for his waist under his clothing. the cold of your fingers causes him to whine and you can’t help but take advantage of that to sink your teeth to his lower lip just the way you knew he liked it. 

aaron guides you to the bed, but unlike many times before where he would lay you down, his weight deliciously on top of you, he sits on the edge, the back of his knees touching the mattress, shoes kicked off just before. he pulls you to straddle him, his lips only leaving yours to touch the skin you had exposed: your neck, your cleavage. his hands making sure to sink you harsher on this lap anytime you stopped moving against him even if for a second, his fingers sinking on the flash of your hips. 

you have to ask, you have to know what’s gotten into him (so you might do it more in the future) and he stops his actions to stare at you, eyes dazed with lust, lips swollen from the way your mouth worked his, cheeks flushed pink like it always got when he was hot.

“do you not have any idea of how… alluring you looked today doing all that?” he’s breathless as he speaks, his tongue is back to your neck before you can reply or tease his choice of words. your head falls lightly behind as you try to contain at least some of your whimpers. hotch does no such effort, lucky his mouth is busy as you wet both of your pants with arousal, the feeling of his cock swelling up under you as addictive as ever. 

you pull him closer by his tie, your mouth brushing against his ear before you spoke just so you could feel the way your warm breath made him shiver. 

“all that what?” he doesn’t respond, busy taking your blouse along with your bra off, his sheer force able to break off the clasp without much effort. you force your body onto him, half for the so needed friction your nipples begged for, but mostly to get him to lay down on the bed. “all that what?” you repeat yourself, needing to hear him say it. your hands strongly keeping his on your waist and not an inch up. the sight of your bare tits alone enough to make him try to get more friction from you, unconsciously rutting up. 

“confidently taking a man down with your bare hands, maybe?” aaron’s reply pleases you and you let go of his hands, helping him take his dress shirt, his tie and the annoying white tank top keeping you away from scratching his stomach, “completely self-reliant, you really don’t need me at all, do you?” he says teasingly just as you gasp to the touch of his calloused fingers to your nipples, working both at the same time. 

you could honestly come just from that (and you have before, noticing how sensitive your nipples are has been a gift to him that kept on giving), but you wanted more. you palm him through his slacks, wet from his precum and your own fluids. “wouldn’t say that, i do need you to help me with these,” you point to the bothersome remnants of clothes in the way and he has the audacity to chuckle, as if he wasn’t as desperate as you. “because as soon as we are free of them, i can ride you the way you’re just begging me to.” aaron can’t keep his groans contained, your crude words going straight to his dick in a way only you were able to. it was a mess of fingers unbuttoning, unzipping and hands quickly working to get rid of the slacks and underwear restricting you both. 

he helps lining his cock to your entrance, but not before teasing pressing his tip to your clit, causing you both to moan, you’re as wet as you always are for him, sinking him into you all at once and the whimper leaving aaron’s mouth is just sinful, completely at your mercy. 

you set the pace and he lets you, one hand on your thigh, the other gripping one of your tits in a way he would leave not just marks, but a whole handprint. you loved it, your nails giving his chest crescent moon shaped marks and scratches all around his torso. 

“aaron–ple–put your fingers to work.” you skip the begging, the please, knowing that’s not what he wants today, you’re busy moaning his name as your pace goes to a faster rhythm to say much else, but he obeys, deliciously using one of his thumbs to draw circles over your clit, following your lead, moaning as you clenched around his dick, your wetness loud against his finger and his pelvis. 

you were about to come, the imminence of your orgasm making your toes curl, “fuck me, aaron, hard… and fast.” you manage to say, not wanting to slow down and knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep up. 

it’s like he’s been waiting for it, for your orders, and he turns you around, his weight over you as he follows your words. hard and fast. his own pleasure building up as you helped him prop on your legs up on his shoulder, you felt like you were melting under him, going between grabbing the sheets and his flesh as you squirmed for him. 

the noises are relentless at this point, and if the walls of the hotel are cheap everyone will be able to hear his name leaving your lips like a prayer, his whimpers getting stuck in his throat and the skin to skin slapping as aaron brought you both to orgasm, his cum going inside of you without a question, his forehead touching yours as he drops your leg and fucks deep and slow into you a few more times so you both enjoy the climax as long as possible. 

“fuck, i definitely need you for these as well.” your tone is full of tease, referring to the orgasms he gave you seemingly effortlessly. 

aaron hums, his eyes already closed the minute his body reaches the bed, pulling you to his chest. “then, i shall pretend you like me for more than my body and sleep here tonight.” he’s joking and would sleep cuddling you either way, so you don’t bother replying. 

but god, you love him. you love him. 

#lari writes sometimes #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut

[its-pip-art]

Chokehold

Astarion x Tav (f)

Warnings: NSFW 18+, minors DNI, smut, blood, p in v sex, fingering, blood drinking, slight praise kink, slight pain/injury kink, porn with no plot

Summary: Astarion gets a little bit TOO into Abdirak's demonstration of torture on Tav in the Shattered Sanctum. Has to immediately steal her away and sort himself out

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes: I was going to write a whole fic about Astarion and my Tav, Antillia and this was one of the plot points, but I woke up this morning and wanted to write it. So if I ever get around to writing the fic I'll re-write this scene and add more delicious, angsty, lovey stuff into it - this is just bare-bones shit. Plus lack of character description in this makes me shake because I wanted to keep it as vague as possible so it's easier to project yourself/Tav into it.

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Astarion throbbed against the leather of his trousers, the once gentle want for her now burgeoning desperation. It was becoming painful. Each strike committed against her made him pulse with desire. His eyes followed the pretty rivulets of blood that escaped her broken skin. “Keep going.” He urged, doing everything he could not to moan her name.

Tav braced against the final strike and she could do nothing but yelp and tremble in the wake of it. She drew in ragged breaths in an attempt to calm herself. 

“You have earned her love, sweet thing. Loviatar is so very impressed.”

Astarion watched Tav dangerously as she composed herself and thanked the man with an earnest smile (oddly misplaced, he thought, given the circumstances). The first moment after they stepped out of the room Astarion seized Tav’s wrist and dragged her off to the side. “We have to go.” He hissed.

Tav stared at him bewildered and with growing worry that her odd encounter with Abdirak had inadvertently caused trouble somewhere else in the sanctum, “is something wrong?” She could feel him shaking against her. She held his gaze, the brilliant red giving way to black, his pupils were so dilated…

Astarion held her arms, mostly to steady himself but it was all undone when the cool wet of her blood finally deigned to touch him. His eyes flickered shut from the exquisite sensation, and when they opened they were dark. The light started to disappear between the two of them as the distance closed. His body tipped towards her. “I’m going to fuck you.” 

Tav lit red with the abruptness of proximity and his command. “Right now?” She asked in a hoarse whisper, but a wry smile broke through at the vulgar thrill of it. “The torture stuff got you going, didn’t it?” She felt fervour lighting within her when Astarion smiled at her, that dazzling smile.

“Immensely so.” Astarion whispered. He felt a little bit of comfort from the way she flushed, knowing that he was soon to get what he craved. He shot a glance over his shoulder, both Karlach and Shadowheart hadn’t gone with them into the priest's room, and for that, he was eternally thankful. He straightened up, clutched Tav’s wrist and began the search for a secluded room - a secret place for him to indulge wholly in his biting desire. He led Tav quietly and quickly through meandering passageways, leaving behind the thrum of the main hall until the sound became just a hum, and then, nothing. 

Tav gazed around the silent room that was lit only by a few candles and she leaned against one of the sarcophagus’s, which eased the strain on her back greatly but did nothing to aid her mounting hunger. She watched Astarion pull various crates and large objects in front of the door to block it. “Is that necessary?” She was joking, and only a little concerned. But before she could utter another word he was between her legs grasping her throat, and the wind was well and truly knocked out of her. 

Astarion’s expert fingers began to release the leather straps and laces that kept him from her deliciously soft skin. He eased the thick shirt off and his eyes danced over the crest of her shoulders, where he could see the beginnings of her wounds. “Show me.”

Tav’s skin stung with goosebumps at the demand and she turned her back on Astarion, her stomach twisting with pleasure at the gasp that came from him. She flinched at the coolness of his touch, one hand resting on her waist and the other carefully tracing the fresh lines in her back. “Ah-!” She gasped when the hot flat of his tongue dragged along her upper back. She felt a thump between her legs immediately and she braced herself against the hard stone tomb. 

Astarion sighed with the instant gratification of her blood flooding his tastebuds - the most beguiling and richest of wines, and as always, utterly dizzying. He nudged his hips against her and his determined cock pressured his leathers once more. He tightened his grip on Tav’s waist, eliciting a strangled whine. Silently he guided her to face him, beguiled by the way she gazed at him…breathlessly wanton. “Darling…” he said so softly as his raptured gaze devoured her heaving chest, his fingers carefully tracing down her clavicle where old marks healed from their last tryst covered her supple breasts. He bent to kiss them, admiring how pillowy they were and how they juxtaposed his hardness so wonderfully. 

Tav watched Astarion kiss and kneed at her, her brows knitted in a deep but pleasured frown as his teeth plucked at her stiff nipple. She raked her fingers through his wicked curls and guided his lips to hers, finally tasting him. The advance quickly deepened and she could feel his teeth teasing at her bottom lip, the weight and heat of his body pressed against her. A rough hand pulled her flush against him she could finally feel his tortured cock press against her stomach. As if he heard her plea she was lifted and perched atop the sarcophagus and his rigidness lined up perfectly with her wetness. She reached quickly into his trousers and gripped him, laughing into his kiss at the reaction. “Astarion…” She pressed her forehead against his as she began to work her hand up and down his shaft.

Astarion managed to steal a glance at her as she sighed out his name, the dim candlelight danced in her eyes and her skin was pricked with sweat already. He pulled quickly at her trousers and threw them behind him and he pushed her forcefully onto her back and he fucked his fingers into her, devouring her expression as she convulsed beneath him. “You are soaking, love.” He nipped mischievously at her jawline and slapped away her searching hand. “Not yet.” He warned.

Tav threw her head back and her back involuntarily arched as Astarion continued to viciously pump his fingers into her. She wanted to take control somehow. She considered her next move carefully, which was extremely difficult to do in her current situation, she could quite easily carry on as she was - he was excellent with his hands. But she wanted to be filled. 

Once again she lulled Astarion’s lips to hers and held him in a kiss as she reached across herself to drench her fingers in her blood. She broke the kiss and slipped her fingers into his mouth and he groaned, clamping his lips around them and sucking. Tav felt her legs begin to shake from the sensation of her quickly building orgasm but she disrupted his rhythm and it receded. She took the chance to untangle herself and spin beneath him so that her bare arse pressed against his pulsating cock, she pushed back further and grinned when he moaned - an aching moan. “You said you wanted to fuck me,” she glowered over her shoulder at him, “so fuck me.”

Astarion could have finished there and then at the sight of her eclipsed by shadow - his shadow. His hunger for her grew, but not only that, the pleasure in denying light any access to her - he was greedy for all of the spaces it had touched in the past. He wanted the sun to envy him, to resent his sinful kisses, his decadent touches and his maddening caresses. 

He pushed his fingers back inside of Tav briefly and used the wetness to lubricate himself with a few languid pumps. His rapacious hands rocked her onto him, setting a brutal pace. His scarlet eyes burned into her back at the redness of her skin, he felt no shame for the ecstasy her pain had brought him. For a moment the only sound other than their laboured breathing was the slapping of his hips against the meat of her arse, and if he wasn’t so offended by her silence he would have enjoyed watching her ripple in the wake of his thrusts. But Tav had a habit of being a nearly silent lover, mostly due to fear of being overheard - which did not line up with Astarion's depraved need to hear her scream his name. He took a fistful of her hair, wrapped his other hand beneath her torso and pulled her up so his lips could meet her ear. “We have a rare opportunity, love, you can howl and you won’t be heard.” He wasn’t entirely sure that was the case, but he wanted her to sing, needed her to sing. 

Tav shuddered against him as his nimble fingers closed around her throat. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and as Astarion had confirmed before, he was able to hear it. The first rumbles of vocal pleasure began to thrill out of her, slightly performative to begin with, but even those made Astarion rut harder against her, prompting a genuine and searing wail of pleasure. She was released back onto resting on her elbows, allowing her to drive some of the motion against him - the response of which made her keen loudly. 

“That’s it,” Astarion growled in praise as he marauded every depth of her. “Good girl.” He sharply inhaled as Tav pounded back at him. He hunched over her, desperate to be as close to her as possible. He pushed his fingers into her mouth and when they were sufficiently sodden he took them to her folds and began to circle her throbbing clit. The reaction to which was a delicious buck of her hips that all but destroyed her grasp on control - he now had it back. 

Tav grasped desperately for anything to hold onto to centre herself as Astarion mercilessly fucked her. Her skin was white hot and her vision was clouding. “A-Astarion-…” She managed shakily.

“Yes, love?” 

Tav could feel the spread of heat in her stomach, the rope pulled taught. “I’m going to…” She couldn’t manage the last part, her lungs needed air and she was becoming delirious. 

“What, darling? You’re going to what?” Astarion relished the way she writhed and reared against him, his fingers worked more ferociously now - agitating her further. 

“Cum.” Tav choked out, “I’m going to cum.” She was burning up, searing. She could feel Astarion's hot breath on the back of her neck, his teeth seeking a spot to sink into her.  And instantly it all fell apart, the rope snapped the moment he bit into her. “Gods, Astarion!” She cried and mumbled and mewled as her body succumbed to rhapsody. 

Astarion drank from her blissfully, her clenching and undulating coupled with the exquisiteness of her blood tipped him over the edge and he emptied himself into her, his pace eventually slowing to a tired stop. He kissed the tip of her ear and nipped the lobe. “You’re a dream.” He sighed into her hair. 

Tav laughed. “So are you.” 

#astarion smut #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #astarion romance #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader

[turtletaubwrites]

A Good Catch ~ Part 1

✨600 Followers Fic Celebration!✨

I am so grateful for all of you! This has been such a wonderful time, and having all of you around to nerd out with, and to share my writing with is the best! Shanks won the poll for the next x Reader fic, and I hope you enjoy it!

Pairings: Shanks x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4367

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (End)

Ao3 Link

Summary: You are an unlucky fisherwoman having a bad day, until a red haired pirate captain offers to help you out. You're pretty sure he only makes it worse.

Rating/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, Flirting, I feel like there's some romance tropes I could tag, but I usually just write smut, so please let me know what silly tropes I have in here 😅

A/N: I am having so much fun with this one! I'm doing my best to keep it to 3 parts, so wish me luck 😅 Please enjoy this fluffy first chapter!

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

“Now I’m gonna get murdered by pirates,” you grumbled to yourself as the ship crept ever closer. “Just fucking perfect.”

The windless sea was no challenge for the massive pirate ship. All you could do was sit with your pile of fish, jealous of the huge oars guiding the threat to you. 

Dread loomed as that jolly roger closed the distance, like an animal baring its fangs before it strikes. Crossed blades, and a sinister skull with red stripes over its left eye socket. 

You didn’t pay enough attention to the gossip and wanted posters to remember who was headed your way. 

Not that it matters. They’re pirates. 

It was too much to hope that they’d pass you by. 

A few voices carried over from the deck, until a tall man leaned over the side. His bright, red hair hung still against this stupidly windless sky. 

“Hey, friend,” he called, the sun at your back giving you a glimpse of his wide smile, even from so high above you. 

“We’re not friends,” you countered, crossing your arms to keep him from noticing your shaky hands. 

“I suppose not. You seem like you’re in a spot of trouble though, and we’re happy to help.”

His deep voice sounded so friendly. Genuine. Charming. 

He’s just trying to lure me into his trap. Who knows what they’d do to me on that ship…

“The sun’s getting pretty low for a small boat to be all the way out here,” he judged, trying to block the glare as he looked down at you. “I don’t think we’ll be getting much more wind today.”

“Thank you, I’ll be fine.”

His pause made your skin itch, wishing he would stop looking at you. 

“We can bring your boat with us. I’m assuming you’re from that village a ways to the west?”

It must have been a trick of your eyes, it couldn’t happen so quickly. But you swore the day inched closer to night faster with every second. You watched the light grow golden as it lit up the red haired man, and his pirate ship.

Fuck.

“I refuse to be rescued,” you choked out, nails digging into your arms. 

“Okay,” he said in an annoyingly teasing tone, “if you insi–”

“I’ll pay you for the service! I had a great haul before…”

“Sounds good to me,” he laughed, deep and hearty. As if he were truly happy. 

You had thought pirates would seem scarier. Maybe this is worse.

You barely heard his shouts  as men started to lower ropes down, prepping to save you. 

“You should know I’m armed,” you yelled up at the back of his head, continuing when he faced you again. “Anyone touches me, and they’ll lose a hand.”

“I’ll be on my guard then. I’ve been running out of those.”

You didn’t understand, or appreciate his teasing while you waited. 

~

“Welcome aboard!”

Pirates echoed the red haired man’s welcome, and you assumed he was the captain as the rest busied themselves about. He sat on deck, calm as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Now that you were so close, you couldn’t help but notice the rippled muscles of his chest and stomach between his mostly open shirt. 

Besides the cloak over his shoulders, he didn’t seem to wear anything that could mark him as captain. Unless his red hair, and three scars over his left eye… 

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he asked, moving to stand beside you. 

“The jolly roger,” you pointed to the menacing skull. “You must be the captain.”

“Good eye,” he leaned in with a smile. 

His smile should have a completely different word. The sight from your boat was nothing compared to seeing the way this man's lips curled slowly, the left side starting first as it grew, as if he was enjoying the act of smiling itself. And his eyes…

His eyes were way too close to you. 

“Are you alright?”

Concern broke that smile, and he called for someone to bring water. 

Your face flushed, hot to the tips of your ears. You realized that you hadn’t heard what the pirate had said because you were too busy swooning over his pretty eyes. 

The water was welcome, and you gulped half of it down, suddenly embarrassed about how fucking fishy you must smell with your day’s catch beside you. 

“Is there anything else you need, miss…”

Trying to catch your eyes, the pirate leaned toward you. He reached for your shoulder, and you jumped back, spilling water down your chest.

“I’m so sorry, love. I forgot about your warning.”

His soothing voice felt real as he went to a knee in front of you. 

“I do hope you will spare me my fate, I swear that no one on this boat will forget it again.”

He’s really too charming. He’s either the sweetest person in the world, or some sort of demon with powers of seduction. 

You nodded. It wasn’t like you could truly defend yourself anyway. The fear of being at their mercy kept you hyper aware of all the moving bodies around you.

“How long until we’re at the village?”

The sun was almost gone from the sky now, and you just wanted to be home. To scrub this stupid day away, and pass out. 

“It should be about three days from now.”

“Three,” you choked out, dropping the now empty mug of water, which he caught without taking his eyes off of yours.

“We’ve got some business on the other side of the island. We'll be stopping by the village to restock supplies before we head out.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” you snapped, voice louder than you meant it.

He just smirked, tilting his head.

“Sorry, love. Would you like us to toss you overboard? I don’t think you had many rescuers lined up.”

For some reason, you couldn’t get your mouth to remember that these men could kill you as you growled back at him.

“You didn’t rescue me. I paid you for a trip back to the village.”

His lips quirked as if he was fighting not to smile again. He looked down at your haul, fish still flapping in the net. 

“That is a really nice haul, miss. Afraid it’s not enough for a direct trip, though.”

Pirates came to take your fish away, and it broke the spell his irritating eyes had on you.

“Please, save this one! You can have it, just… Make sure you cook it well.”

The two men with the net followed your gesture to that fish, assuring you they would obey before taking it away.

“Why’s that one special?”

The weight of this long ass day hit you, a heavy sigh leaving your lips before you looked back at that pretty captain. 

“It was a good catch.”

He huffed a laugh, the clear amusement he got from your words making you simultaneously annoyed, and pleased. You were mentally smacking yourself for that. 

Don’t be attracted to pirates, dumbass. 

“I’m Shanks. I don’t know if you heard me before, but…”

Your skin flushed again, and he seemed to notice, a warm, evil smile slowly forming on his lips.

“What’s your name?”

“You don’t need to know it.”

He gave a real laugh then, loud, and infectious. You had to remind yourself that he was laughing at you.

“What would you like us to call you then, huh? “Fish Girl?” Maybe “Fail Boat?” Or how about “Damsel in Distress?” I think I like that–”

You ripped your hand back as soon as you’d realized what you’d done.

But it was too late.

Your idiotic, suicidal hand had shot out and smacked him, hard, right in the center of that gorgeous chest of his.

The deck roared with laughter while you shook with horror. Shanks had looked down at his chest, and when he lifted his face to yours he looked stunned. If you hadn’t just signed your own death warrant, you might have thought his face comical, brows raised high, with his mouth and eyes wide. 

“Go easy on the girl, captain,” teased a tall man with gray hair, shaking his head at Shanks.

“Yeah, come on, captain! What kinda hospitality are you giving, insulting our guest like that?”

A whole group of pirates crowded around him, reprimanding him, and giving him a few gentle punches and shoves. 

Your mouth hung open. The sight of these pirates being so playfully disrespectful toward their captain didn’t fit in your brain. None of this made sense with what pirates were supposed to be like. 

“Fine. Fine! I’m sorry, miss…”

He’d broken away from his men, leaning toward you with that question. 

“Y/N.”

He hit you with a new grin to outshine all the others, making your breath hitch.

“What a beautiful name for a damsel in distress.”

You didn’t need to hit him this time, as pirates did the job for you, even throwing things at him from across the deck. 

Maybe it was the overwhelm, the fatigue. Maybe you’d gone insane.

But laughter built in your stomach, growing through your body, until you were shaking with it. You had your hands on your knees as it took you over, and the pirates around you joined in. 

How can pirates be laughing and smiling like this with me? How can it be genuine? 

Amidst the continued roars of his men, Shanks shook his head, gesturing for you to follow him. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’ll show you.”

Frowning at the back of his head, you followed through the wooden halls until he opened a large door, gesturing for you to go inside.

He rolled his eyes when you hesitated, before going in first. 

The large room was tiled, with lockers and showers, and there he stood in the center, grinning like a creep.

“I’ll pass,” you deadpanned, backing out the door.

“Come on, fish girl,” he taunted, “you stink, and I think you’ll be easier to clean than the blankets you’ll sleep in tonight.”

Blood rushing to your face again, your mouth opened and closed as anger and embarrassment fought to take over.

Shanks laughed again, but tried to stifle it. 

“Sorry, you’re just,” he motioned to his lips, mimicking your movements. “You’re a fish girl.”

“Shut up,” you seethed, leaning toward him. “I’m not taking a shower on a pirate ship when anyone can–”

“I’ll guard the door for you, okay,” he assured, finally seeming to take something seriously. “I’ll make sure no one comes in.”

Now his stupid smile was soft, small, and sweet. You hated it.

“Oh right,” you scoffed, “like I'd trust a pirate captain. Who’s gonna stop you from coming in?”

“What makes you think this pirate captain would even want to come in here, huh?”

“Fuck you,” you breathed, turning to leave.

He was so fast. You jumped back as he blocked the door. He saw your wide eyes, and moved out of the doorway so he wouldn’t block your exit, but he still leaned close.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Really, okay? I promise I will sit right outside this door, and not let a single person come inside until you’re done. There’s fresh clothes for you over there too. Whatever you need.”

A very fine trembling worked its way around your body as you studied him. It seemed like such a bad idea to trust him. 

But you were exhausted. 

“You’ll sit in front of the door?”

He straightened up, a look of relief brightening that serious face.

“I will.”

“Will you wear a blindfold?”

“If that’s what it takes,” he agreed with a smirk.

“And let me tie your hands behind your back?”

Shanks sucked his teeth as he leaned back. You had a second of fear as he started taking his clothes off.

But all he removed was his heavy cloak, revealing that he was missing his left arm. 

Guilt hit you, apologies about to pour out, but he held his palm out. 

“Afraid I can’t do that, but I promise I’ll do the rest. Is that alright, Y/N?”

~

This is really nice soap.

Still on edge, your body started to relax a bit with the delicious smelling soap on your skin. 

But every time you felt a moment of relaxation, you’d remember the pirate on the other side of the door. 

“You’ve gotta make it tighter, sweetie. Otherwise it won’t work.”

That fucking sentence kept tearing through your brain. The way he’d run his fingers across yours while you adjusted the cloth to blindfold him. The way his hair and skin had felt and smelled as you moved it into place. The way he’d rasped those words while he grabbed your wrist to guide you, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting his fingers trail down your skin. 

The way you had let him touch you without arguing. His fingers had taken advantage of the moment, but it had felt almost electric to let him.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah. Thank you.”

How did he hear that over the shower?

~

“What the hell is this?”

“Sorry, love, I'm afraid I can't see what you– ow, hold on!”

You definitely had a few red hairs between your fingers after ripping his blindfold off. 

The pirate captain got to his feet to meet your eyes, and fucking snorted.

“What is wrong with you,” you fumed, tossing the blindfold at his face.

The fact that he caught it before it hit him only pissed you off more.

“There has to be something else I can wear,” you demanded, pulling at the frilly lavender dress he stuck you with. You looked like some creepy porcelain doll.

His face was going as red as his hair as he tried not to laugh.

“I’m sorry, no one’s– we don’t have anyone your size,” he choked out, clearing his throat before continuing. “We have a few more dresses like this, though. They were supposed to be a gift for a princess, so you should feel honored!”

“Fuck you.”

His lips were fucking quivering as he fought his laughter. His eyes flicked down to your clenched fists, and he relented.

“Right, sorry, okay! You can have some of my clothes, you’ll just have to roll them up, alright?”

Very judgmentally looking him up and down, you raised your brows at him.

“Do you have any shirts that actually button up all the way? Or do you expect me to let my tits hang out like yours.”

Shanks cackled then, catching himself on the wall, his eyes even tearing up a little. 

You kicked yourself for saying something so sexual in front of a fucking pirate.

“You’re a funny one, fish girl,” he teased between hiccupped laughs, “but you definitely look like a damsel in that dress.”

You kicked the pirate for being such a dick. 

“Fuck, sorry,” he huffed, wincing as he rubbed his shin where you’d kicked it. 

“Follow me. I definitely wanna get you outta that dress– I mean into different clothes,” he almost yelled, warding off a slap with his arm. “So you stop hurting me!”

Practically boiling with a mix of anger, embarrassment, and fear, you let yourself be guided along. The lantern lit halls were roomier than you would have expected, and you could hear the distant voices of the crew. 

“Here we go,” he said gently, opening another large door. He went in first again, and you entered what had to be his quarters.

Of course. We’re getting his clothes. 

It was full of rich, dark woods, red blankets, a desk that seemed to have more bottles of alcohol than anything work related on it, and a delightful, almost spicy scent filling the air. 

The room was a bit messy, and you felt out of place standing there in that frilly dress while he dug through his wardrobe, tossing clothes to the ground as he searched.

“Here, love, how about these?”

“Do you have a belt?”

~

Managing to roll, buckle, and tuck at his clothes, you were mostly satisfied as you checked the mirror.

Even with all the buttons done up, you still had to tie his shirt to keep your chest from popping out like his does. 

“You almost finished? The party’s star…”

Those pretty eyes brightened when you opened the door. His little smirk made you frown, and he held his hand up.

“You were right, Y/N. This definitely suits you better.”

He offered that hand to you, and even in the warm glow of the lanterns, you could see scars, callouses, and thick veins that made your breath hitch for a moment. 

Your hand had almost reached his when he pulled away.

“Almost forgot,” he teased, his voice somehow lower than normal as he stepped out of the doorway for you. “I’ll lose my only hand if I touch you, right?”

“I…”

“Well, I definitely won’t risk that.”

He stepped further back, letting you follow him into the hallway. 

Your brain seemed to stutter, unable to join the moment as it flew through conflicting emotions. 

Like why it upset you that he wouldn’t risk it. 

Shanks moved in close, his spicy scent filling your lungs as you looked up at him. 

“Just let me know if that ever changes.”

He turned away after a subtle wink that made your brain short circuit. 

“You comin’? I’m hungry.”

Still barefoot without your fishy shoes, you chased that red hair down the hallway.

He really is some sort of seduction demon.

~

“Hey, girly. Is this jackass treating you alright?”

“This is how you talk about your captain?”

The older man with long, gray hair ignored Shanks’ protests as he looked you over.

“You should be more worried about him,” you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at the captain.

“Ha, I’m sure you’re right.”

He grinned down at you, before motioning toward the fire. 

“Come on, the food’s almost done.”

The crew had found a remote beach, and set up camp. Their camp supplies seemed to be mostly alcohol. 

Shanks had said they had business here, and that they’d go to the village in about three days.

What kind of business are pirates getting up to on my island?

The thought was pushed aside as Shanks called for you. Most of the pirates were holding their plates, or using boulders or crates while they ate. Captain Shanks had a dingy little table by the fire, and was waving you over. 

“Come on, love. Let’s eat, and find out why that fish of yours is so special.”

The day's events hit you again, but you joined him in a mismatched chair, and grabbed a fork. 

It smelled good.

“Here,” Shanks demanded, shoving a mug of some kind of alcohol into your hand, before standing and lifting his own to address the crew. “Here’s to our luck! We found an unlucky fisherwoman, and now we’ve got good eats. To Y/N!”

The sheer volume of their enthusiasm made your eyes go wide as you faked a sip.

“So tell me, fish girl,” he leaned toward you, the small table not leaving much space between you. “Why is this fish so special?”

Ignoring him, you focused on your plate. The way it looked and smelled was perfect, but you had to know.

He watched your movements, following along as you pierced into the flesh, bringing the first bite to your lips. 

It was perfect. Whoever had cooked it had treated it right. The tender meat and the subtle flavor were given just the amount of spice to balance it out.

It would have sold well. After all it took to get it, you were grateful that it didn’t go to waste, and tasting it yourself was wonderful.

Even if you were sharing it with a pirate.

“This is incredible, Y/N. You really are a fish girl.”

Letting out a sigh, you dug in, trying to enjoy the meal that had put you in this situation. The night was filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and endless calls for cheers, the clanging of metal mugs like the shifting heartbeat of this joyful crew.

“So, I had someone take a look at your boat, in case we could help fix it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my boat,” you spat out, wishing you could have enjoyed your meal in peace. Without this too fucking handsome and annoying pirate captain.

Shanks tapped his fingers on the table, a smirk playing at his lips. 

“That was the report,” he said softly, the teasing tone building slowly in his voice. “They did say that one of the oars is missing.”

“Thanks for the report,” you grumbled, watching the fire now.

“Come on, just tell me what happened. How’d you get stranded out there?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Your face felt hot, the fire not close enough for the burning in your skin. 

“Consider it payment then. For my clothes, and for my company,” he taunted, his voice dipping low. 

“I could do without the latter.”

“You wound me, sweet damsel.”

He put his hand to his heart, chuckling at your frown before chugging whatever was in his mug.

“It was a really good catch,” you mumbled, giving in. He scooted even closer to you, excitement in those lovely eyes, mixing with the light of the fire.

Shanks kept that beautiful mouth shut, just tilting his head toward yours as he waited.

“My grandma used to talk about her best catch. That was it,” you said flatly, gesturing to your empty plate. “She made me promise that if I ever caught a fish like that, I had to eat it myself, eat it with friends.”

“Don’t waste a fish like that on berry, sugar. It’s a gift.”

He raised his mug as you mimicked your grandma’s voice, and you brought yours up with a sigh, still just pretending to drink.

“I’m honored, then. Your grandma was right, that fish was amazing.”

Memories of her seemed to join you at the table, bittersweet, and heavier than you’d like. 

“Sorry, Y/N. You, uh… You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” you coughed, a hint of anger back in your voice as you fought against the prickling in your eyes.

“Well,” he drawled out, extending the word for way too long, “you still didn’t tell me how you got stranded out there with nothing but the perfect fish.”

Groaning, you put your forehead on the dingy table and blurted it out, as if you could make it not true if you said it fast enough. 

“I caught the fish. I saw what it was. It started to slip through my hands. I knew it’d sell well, so I didn’t want to lose it. I ended up tripping over one of the oars. I should have let it go, I could have grabbed the oar if I’d seen it slipping. But I was greedy. I wanted to sell that stupid fish instead of eating it, and now grandma’s probably cussing at me from the afterlife.”

Shanks at least had the decency to shove his knuckles between his teeth before he started laughing. 

“Oh, fuck you,” you huffed, standing to leave the captain’s dingy table.

“Wait, please,” he called, catching your fingers in his, and pulling you back toward him. Only to drop your hand as if he’d been burned when you met his eyes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean–”

Whatever you might have said was lost in a wave of too many things at once. Humiliation over the whole thing, fear that these pirates could still hurt you, especially if you fell asleep, and the burning in your stupid cheeks because this gorgeous asshole held your hand. 

What the fuck is wrong with me today?

The moon was mostly full, so there was plenty of light on the sand as you walked away from the camp. They were so fucking noisy, but the ocean beckoned for you to sit, gentle waves like your grandmother’s sweet voice. 

When she wasn’t giving me shit, you thought with a laugh, digging your toes in the sand. 

“The ocean makes me feel better too.”

His deep voice annoyed you more than it startled you. 

Shanks sat beside you, but not too close.

Ignoring him did not make him go away. 

“What do you want?”

“I wanna make your shitty day better. How can I do that?”

“Take me home.”

“Three days on that one, love. Anything more immediate?”

Your plan to stay up all night was already failing, exhaustion dragging you down.

His eyes were so soft under the moon, the hint of a smile brightening his face.

“I don’t want to sleep out in the open with everyone. Is there somewhere… safe where I can sleep?”

Shanks nodded, looking down as he cleared his throat. 

“Of course, let me take you now.”

The ship itself seemed to be sleeping, so quiet with only a handful of crew watching it as the rest camped on the island. 

Red hair under lantern light guided you through those wood paneled halls again, until he led you to the guest quarters. 

“Here’s the key, and you’re welcome to shove this chair under the door knob as well. Breakfast will be at the beach in the morning,” he laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “It’ll probably be the afternoon depending on the hangovers, but you– Are you alright?”

He knelt at your feet, looking you over as you slumped onto the bed.

“How long were you out there today? Have you been drinking water? Are you…”

This charming pirate stopped himself from touching your forehead, and some insane, fatigued part of you reached out, grabbing his hand with both of yours. 

“I lied,” you confessed, voice quiet and close, his pretty eyes on your lips. “I can’t cut your hand off. I’m not armed.”

The slow smile he gave you now was your favorite, somehow making the light in his eyes shine brighter. Your hands reluctantly let go of him as he shifted, but instead of moving away, Shanks touched his calloused fingers to your cheek. 

“Your secret’s safe with me, sweetheart.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I am obsessed with these two now. What the heck. I need Shanks to make fun of me like that 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02

Part 2

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

#shanks x reader #red haired shanks #x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #one piece x reader #one piece fics #turtletaub fics #follower celebration #fic requests #mine #fluff #one piece fluff #shanks fluff #shanks fics

[disasterofastory]

Brahms's playtime (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

Brahms's playtime // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 1/14 Warnings: somnophilia, non-c, stalking Summary: Brahms comes out of his hiding place while you are asleep.

A/N: Here is our first Brahms fic for kinktober. Hope you will enjoy it!

The music is muffled by the raging storm outside. The doll still sits in front of the old gramophone, motionless. The wild rocking of the trees in front of the window reflects in his dark, lifeless eyes. He is all alone while you are in the living room, asleep. You took a shower not even an hour ago after freezing your toes off because of those damn rat traps. You needed your shampoo, soap, and all your lotions to get rid of the smell of the dead and wet animals. Disgusting.

You are lying on the couch, still in your robe, eyes closed. Your chest moves up and down with every calm breath you take. The heavy drum of the rain on the rooftop is far from your relaxed mind. You don't care about the bright strikes that light up the room every few seconds or the loud rumble of the sky that follows them. And you don't care about the man watching you through the hole in the wall either.

Brahms stands still with his hands flat on the rough surface of the inside of the wall. It shakes under his touch, fighting against the wrathful weather outside. The man can feel every lighting and every thunder, but the world could fall apart, and he wouldn't move an inch. His eyes are on you, barely blinking. He doesn't even remember the times he didn't spend his days watching you. You became a part of his life quickly and easily, even if you know nothing about it. Yet.

His movements are quick and quiet as he comes out of his hiding place. His huge form barely fits through the secret passage of the wall. His gaze stays on you the whole time, afraid you wake up and ruin his playtime. He doesn't want that. He doesn't want you scared and panicked. He doesn't want you to leave him.

No.

You won't leave him. He will make sure of it. He will be good. So good.

He towers over your sleeping form, watching the way your lashes flutter every now and again. His gaze falls on the slope of your nose and the curve of your open lips. His fingertips tingle with the need to touch you. His breathing gets heavy as he goes lower. The robe you wear is much more open than it was when you decided to take a quick nap after your shower. Saliva gathers in his mouth at the sight of your nipple. The hard peak matches the shade of your lips. His hand trembles as he reaches out. His thumb grazes over the pebble, flicking it briefly before snapping his hand away from you. His eyes jump back to your face, but you are still asleep. The small movement of your chest as you breathe is still the same.

Okay, he thinks, that's good.

His index finger tugs on the opening of your robe until the belt around your waist gives up, and you are bare in front of his hungry gaze. He doesn't even know where to look first. Brahms is mesmerized by the soft globes of your breasts, the curve of your waist, and the pretty triangle between your legs. His hard cock twitches in his pants. Pre-cum leaks from the aching tip, forming a dark patch on the soft fabric of his underwear.

He reaches out again. His large palm lands on your side, and his thumb slides over the underside of your breast. His lips fall open with a silent whine. He can feel the sweat running down his temple. His hold slides down to your hips. You fit perfectly in his hold.

Your legs spread further, and his breath hitches in his throat. So pretty. You are so pretty.

The storm is still wild and powerful outside, mixing with the sound of the music from the other room. Thick fog floats around the house, hiding you and him in another world where you are willing and open to him.

With his other hand, he pushes down on his pants until his cock and heavy balls are free between his thick thighs. His long fingers curl around his shaft, squeezing and tugging.

His hold on you is steady and gentle, still afraid of you waking up and ruining his fun. No. It would be too soon. You need time. He needs more time, too. His hand smooths down to your thigh, gently groping your flesh there for a second. So soft. So perfect. Another whine stretches in his throat. His chest feels too tight for everything he feels right now. His index finger runs over your slit. His touch is curious and inexperienced. He doesn't know exactly what he should do; he just feels the throbbing need to do something. Anything.

After a few minutes of his aimless caressing, you start to get wet. Brahms notices it with a surprised gasp. His fingers move more easily until he slips deeper, opening up your folds to his determined glare.

He feels the familiar pull on his balls. His hand tightens and quickens. His bottom lip trembles as he moans. The voice is strange and high. It's happening. The familiar pull in his lower stomach tugs on his insides. He will cum.

His finger goes even deeper inside you, finding your tight hole and sinking into its warmth. And then you moan. Your voice is much prettier than his, but your eyes are still closed. There is a small frown between your brows, though, as you start to move your hips. You almost fuck yourself on his finger as you whimper and moan some more.

"Y/N," Brahms moans as he reaches his orgasm. Soon, both of his hands are soaked with yours and his juices. His creamy white seed gathers in the middle of his large palm as he shoots and shoots. His hips rock back and forth, watching his index finger disappear in your pussy as you grind down on him.

In the background, the music stops, and for a second, you freeze too. Brahms's heart stops beating for a second.

Not now. Not yet.

Pulling out his finger from your tight hole, he reaches out between your thighs with his other hand. He smears his seed on your pussy hurriedly, letting the thick drops paint your skin and mark you as his.

#brahms heelsire x reader #the boy x reader #the boy imagine #brahms heelshire imagine #brahms heelshire smut #kinktober 2023 #slasher fucker

[peachdues]

Hi Peach!

I’ve been obsessing over Rengoku again recently after re-reading Tell Me To Stop and Red Dress at least four times recently. You’re definitely my favourite kny author, I love your style of writing and how human you make your stories feel, also I was curious if you had any other nsfw headcanons for Rengoku that might not has been in your fics already?

Absolutely I do! Also THANK YOU?? YOU’RE SO KIND??

Kyojuro Rengoku — NSFW headcanons

MDNI. Read blow the cut!

(1) Kyojuro hates teasing — now, don’t get me wrong, he will edge and tease you until you’re crying, begging for him to fuck you or let you come, and he will do it with a smile. But Kyojuro can’t take as well as he gives, so if you tease him, you do so at your own peril. “Accidentally” brush up against him, let a teasing touch linger for too long, and you can bet he’s grabbing you by your arm and dragging you to the nearest secluded corner and making you regret it (and you love it every time).

(2) the first time you blow this man, he’s cumming within thirty seconds max, and spends the next half hour apologizing profusely.

(3) Even if Kyojuro had previous experience, he’s the type of person to feel sex more intensely (and climax harder) when he’s doing it with the person he loves. nothing compares to being wrapped up in the body of the love of his life, moaning and whimpering without restraint as he whispers reverent “I love yous” over and over until his voice chokes off as he spills inside of you.

(4) he’s pretty adventurous! As long as you’re into it, so is he (with some absolute no-nos — namely, anything that involves striking you harder than a light slap to the ass/chest/groin). But otherwise, he’s very open! I can see him getting into bondage/shibari, overstimulation (a given), role play, the works!

(5) He might have been shy about public sex earlier in your relationship, but that was until you convinced him to let you sit on his lap while wearing a skirt and somehow he found his way inside of you — all while struggling not to make a sound (and Kyojuro is uh…vocal). But he ultimately found the thrill of the risk as intoxicating as you did, so it won’t take much to convince him to do it again.

(6) He loves when you say his first name in bed, but when you’re in charge (read: domming him), he wants you to call him Rengoku — and to say it in a slightly demeaning/bratty tone.

(7) Kyojuro has taste and he’s therefore a tit man. He’s big into sucking on your tiddies, at any time, for any reason. Sometimes, when he wakes up before you, he’ll roll over and just tug one of your soft mounds into his mouth and happily suck away until you wake up with a moan, and roll over on top of him. These mornings, he wants you to ride him so he can admire the way your breasts bounce while you fuck yourself on him.

#demon slayer #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #kny smut #hashira smut #demon slayer smut #rengoku smut #demon slayer hcs #kny hcs #hashira hcs #kny fanfic

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

seeing stars. ~ azriel x reader (smut)

Summary: You knew better than taking his hand and sneaking away with him from the ball - but you didn't care.

Warning: smut, also this is my 1st acotar fic (is that a warning lol?)

Words: about 500, didn't count, sorry

Pairing: Azriel x human!reader

***

It's an unexpected sight - Azriel before you, eager, wanting, pleading.

It's a sight you could get used to.

When lightning strikes above Velaris, your room lights up for a split second and the hunger in his eyes sends shivers down your spine. Thunder rumbles and your lips meet again.

You know that you shouldn't have come here, shouldn't have taken his hand when he offered it to you. The Spymaster of the Night Court is nothing if not dangerous and you knew better - but you didn't care.

"Stop thinking," he murmurs and your mouth is not capable of replying, so you let your hips speak instead. They roll forwards, drawing the most delicious moan from his lips. Another shiver down your spine as you drink up the sight of him, seeing his eyes flutter, his breath hitch, his muscles tense. Fuck. Whatever the consequences will be for sneaking away from the ball with him - it's all worth it.

"Princess," he whispers and now it's you who whimpers by the sound of your title rolling off his tongue. "Didn't I tell you to stop thinking?"

You smirk. Azriel might be Fae and you're only human but in the end, he is still only a male. "Make me," you reply and with that, he flips you over. You breath in sharply as your head lands on the soft pillow and then there is a sound and suddenly his wings unfurl, blocking out any light that's left in this room.

"Cocky for a human," he mumbles and you want to reply, want to tell him what else this human is, but then he begins to move.

The laughter that wanted to escape your lips, turns into a moan. He catches it, his mouth moving hungrily against your own as he thrusts into you. Everything arounds you begins to blur until there is only the feeling of his fingers on your skin and him inside of you left. A knot begins to tighten in your body. It tightens and tightens and with each teasing comment, with each grunt and moan, it doesn't take long for you to see stars in front of your eyes. You come, back arching, his name on your lips and he follows shortly after and fuck, this image of him will never leave your mind.

In fact, you are certain that he now completely ruined you for any possible human suitor you're parents will choose for you.

He's still breathing heavily when he rests his forehead against yours.

"Velaris, City of Starlight, huh?"

He raises an eyebrow at your statement. You grin and let your fingers run through his hair. "Well, you sure as hell made me see stars tonight."

Azriel snorts. He snorts. "You're trying to prove the statement that mortals were never known for their sense of poetry, Princess?"

You almost miss it, in the darkness. But lightning strikes again in the perfect moment and there it is - the corners of his lips curling up. The softest of smiles.

Another unexpected sight. Another sight you could get used to.

"Want me to make you see even more stars?"

***

send me an ask and i'll write you a blurp

#Azriel x reader #Acotar x reader #Acotar #Azriel x you #acotar fanfiction

[onceuponastory]

first footing - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: Bucky thought he was going to spend New Year's alone, just how he likes it... until Y/N showed up. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: A few mentions of alcohol and being drunk. There's also some light mentions of Bucky's past as TWS. But as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: Happy New Year my lovelies! In Scotland (where I'm from if you didn't already know) we have a tradition called first footing, where the first person to enter your house in the New Year brings luck with them (and usually alcohol, hahaha). I realised I wanted to write something with Bucky and this tradition (because lord knows he needs the luck) so here we are! Consider this fic me first footing you all ❤️

Also, incase you're wondering, a dram is a small measure of whisky. Not beta'd (I wrote this quickly bc the idea hit me like an hour ago), so any mistakes are my own.

“Happy New Year!” The TV host announces, cheering with the crowd behind her, and Bucky rolls his eyes, switching it off. He hates this time of year. He knows that the old him, the Sergeant, would be out there wooing girls, with a promise to kiss each of them as soon as the clock struck twelve. He misses those days. Back when the worst thing he had to worry about was looking good for his dates, and not… everything that’s happened to him in the last seventy years. And although New Year’s exemplifies change and bettering yourself, Bucky still hates it. Sure, everyone can make a change. He’s living proof of that.

But New Year’s is just so… loud now, and there’s so much pressure to better yourself, to change something about yourself. It symbolises everything he hates. God, he really is an old man.

Or maybe he hates it because he’s spending it alone, like usual. Or that despite the amount of personal growth he’s done over the year, each new year always seems to be a horrible reminder of everything he once was, and everything he’s lost.  

Now that’s not to say Bucky hasn’t been invited to things tonight. He’d just… rather do everything but. All he wants is to go to bed and pretend tonight never happened, like the old man he is.

Suddenly, a knock on the door cuts through the air, causing Bucky to frown. He’s not expecting someone tonight. He can tell who it’ll probably be though - Steve or Sam, telling him to stop being boring and to get over to Tony’s party with the others. The knock sounds again, the person clearly impatient. “Alright, alright!” Bucky groans, making his way to the door and opening it. “Steve, I told you I’m not- Y/N?”

“Took you long enough.” She teases. Bucky’s mouth drops open, and his mind goes blank. He’s speechless. All he can do is look at her. The snow caught in her hair seems to sparkle in the light, and the way she looks at him, her trademark bright smile on her face, makes his heartbeat increase and his stomach flutter. 

God, she’s so beautiful.

“Happy New Year, Buck.” She smiles, holding up a bottle of whisky. 

“What…what are you doing here?” Bucky gasps in confusion, yet he still can’t stop a relieved smile from gracing his lips. He doesn’t have to spend his New Year alone with his thoughts. This time, he gets to spend it with his favourite person. But another thought, one that makes his heart skip a beat, hits him. Y/N chose him. Out of all the options she had, including a fancy Stark party with the others, who are most definitely more fun than he is… she still chose to spend time with him. And that makes Bucky Barnes feel like the most important person in the world.

“Well, I was going to first foot you.…” She chuckles. “But I can’t do that if you don’t let me in.” Still frowning, Bucky steps aside and helps Y/N take her coat off. 

“You’re going to what?” Y/N laughs, another burst of laughter that Bucky swears is improving his mood by the second.

“First footing. It’s a tradition where the first person to enter your house after the clock strikes twelve brings good luck with them.” She grins. “So…here I am.” 

“Y/N, you don’t have to be here. I know spending tonight with an old man like me isn’t very fun. Go party.”

“No way!” Y/N shakes her head, heading to his kitchen. “There’s no place I’d rather be than here, with my favourite person.” She calls. Bucky’s heart almost goes into overdrive.

“Thank you.” He smiles, watching her go. “It means a lot.” More than she’ll ever know.

~ * ~

“Here we go.” Y/N grins, passing Bucky his dram of whisky. “Cheers Bucky.” 

“Cheers, doll.” He chuckles, clinking his glass against hers. Together, they down their drink. Despite the minimal amount of alcohol, and the fact the serum means he can’t get drunk, Bucky still feels the familiar warm feeling pooling in his gut, and the heat spreading across his cheeks. And especially how all he wants to do is smile.

But that could just be the beautiful woman sitting opposite him, the candlelight casting a soft glow over her features. The one who chose him over everyone else. The one he’s so deeply and irrevocably in love with. He swears he could just kiss her right there and then. He just can’t bring himself to do it, or even tell her how he feels. Despite how much he loves Y/N, Bucky swears that the pain of losing her and her friendship would be enough to finish him off right there and then. So, he stays quiet and lets the pain of not telling her, and the thought she could be with someone else eat him up inside.

“Any other traditions for me tonight?” Bucky raises a brow. 

“Other than finishing this whiskey? Nope.” Y/N chuckles as Bucky pours them both some more.

“Thanks again for tonight, Y/N.” Bucky smiles. “I mean, I wasn’t going to spend it alone. I wanted to go to the party, but-” He lies, trying desperately not to sound so lonely and pathetic. But a gentle, reassuring touch on his forearm stops him. Despite the gentleness of her touch, Bucky’s skin burns under it.

“It’s alright.” Y/N smiles. “I know.” What did he ever do to deserve someone like Y/N in his life? Perhaps he was a saint in a previous life. But even that wouldn’t be enough, make him anywhere close to worthy of having Y/N as a best friend. She looks at him intently, staring into his eyes. Bucky feels the heat on his cheeks deepening. “You know….” She chuckles.

“Mhm?”

“I know you think resolutions suck, but I have one this year. And there’s no better time than half twelve in the morning on January 1st to do it, huh?”  

“I don’t think they suck, they’re just not my thing.” Bucky corrects her, but he can’t stop his brow from quirking up. “What’s your resolution?” Y/N leans in, so close Bucky can feel her breath against his skin. It’s enough to drive him crazy.

“To not let anything pass me by, to take each opportunity as it comes.” She grins.

“That’s a good resolution.” Bucky nods, regretting his words almost immediately. Why the hell would he say that, of all things?

“So. Here it goes.” Y/N takes a breath. “This may be the whisky talking, but… I refuse to go another year without telling you this. I am in love with you, Bucky Barnes.” Bucky almost keels over. He almost asks her to repeat what she just said, or even to pinch him. But then she continues. “I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way… well, it would hurt a lot, but I just have to tell you because I couldn’t bear another day without you knowing.”

Bucky chuckles, cupping her chin. “I’ve been wanting to tell you that for so long.” He smiles, and Y/N’s grin grows just as wide. “You know….” He whispers. “There’s another New Year’s tradition I can think of.” Leaning in, he softly presses his lips to hers.

Something tells him this year is going to be pretty damn incredible.

~ * ~

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fanfiction #marvel oneshot #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel cinematic universe #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

[wonjns]

alright i have a kinda (maybeeee a little) whoreknee thot🤭🤭

so like maybe a fic of seventeen and their 14th member go to a hot springs to relax. the reader (bottom male reader of course) and whatever member you choose for the story end up fucking in the hot springs but try to be sneaky with it because the other members are also still in the hot springs too 🤭👀

also can i be ♾️ anon? have a great day lovelyyyy

ok so i actually had this req before my mingyu one and im surprised at all the sudden hot springs/sauna thots but i’m open cuz it’s hot asf hdjsjsheh — and ofc you can be ♾️ anon!! <33

so for this one i’m actually thinking hoshi or dino 🫣 for obvious bias reasons imma elaborate on hoshi because one,, have you seen those abs …… mouth watering. imagine having him all dripping wet and sweaty and shirtless,, all to yourself. the video below sends my mind reeling everytime i see it!€\£{€

hoshi totally strikes me as someone who would bring his boyfriend to his favorite hot springs, especially if you were the 14th member, with the sole intent on having sexy time. he would purposefully convince you to go on a day that they aren’t too occupied, or simply use his connections (his fat wallet) to get you a private area.

things would start off wholesome enough, you guys soaking in the relaxing warm water just like you did during the full group outings after a long productive day of rehearsal. but something about it being only the two of you filled the tiger’s tummy up with a heat that rivaled the steam rising from the springs.

having the freedom to just take in your shirtless body and soaked skin, watching small sweat beads form along your hairline while you softly moaned sinking deeper into the warm water had him straining his swim shorts in record time. screw this man and his ridiculously high sex drive.

you’d be no better, never being one to hide your ogling over hoshi even out in broad daylight. something about him and the way he moved always had you under his spell, consistently growing more and more desperate for him throughout the days after you finally started hooking up.

your eyes would snap open at the sound of water being tread, only to find hoshi offering you one of those signature smirks while situating himself between your legs. he’d wrap those biceps around your waist and pul you closer onto him, causing your light giggle to turn into a bold moan when you felt his hard-on.

one thing lead to another and to no one’s surprise you and hoshi would be having a steamy making out session right there in the middle of the body of water, swallowing each others moans and stroking each others cocks fervently.

imagine hoshi eventually reached his limit with the foreplay and just pulled you onto his lap against the rocks, sloppily sucking all kinds of marks onto your adams apple while stripping you of your swim trunks.

the bountiful waterfall from the hot springs would do very little to mask the sounds of your gutter al moans resonating through the chambers while an enthusiastic hoshi held you down onto his thick cock while rutting up into your needy ass, your salty tears of pleasure mixing in with the sweat and spring water all around you.

it’d be messy, chaotic, and loud - just how hoshi likes it. his mind would haze over watching how your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure while you felt all along his chiseled forearms and biceps. imagine your nails digging into his toned back when his tongue teasingly taunted your exposed nipples, blooming them into full hardness before sucking on them like a starved calf.

i just know his dancer hips would prove his skill time and time again, his cock kissing that perfect little spot inside of you while he stroked your pulsing dick under the water — all until you were climaxing all over him and those ridiculously sexy abs.

oh god, hoshi would be so lost in the moment that as soon as he rode his high out, he’d pull you off his dick and plant you right on the ramp, eager to clean up the mess he made by licking and sucking both of your cum dry off your dampened skin. you’d be sensitive, and that would only make him love it more, egging on his talented tongue.

the dazed and fucked out look in your eyes as you glanced down at his actions while mindlessly carding your hands through his dripping wet locs would prompt him to make a mental note for himself to bring you to the springs 1 on 1 much more often.

#😈flwr;thots #♾️; anon #hoshi x male reader #seventeen x male reader #kpop x male reader #seventeen smut #seventeen hard thoughts #kpop smut #kpop hard thoughts #hoshi smut #seventeen x reader #svt hard hours #male reader smut

[diazsdimples]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

I'm getting to everyone's snippets tonight, I promise! I'm a few days behind cause lectures have just started up again 😬 tagged for Tuesday by @thewolvesof1998 and @elvensorceress thank you friends 🫶. Also I'm updating my taglist for the first time ever so please interact with this post if you want to be on it!

Figured I should probably get cracking on my 7x06 spec fic before the episode comes out so please enjoy a bit of Buck getting roasted by his best friend and boyfriend.

Eddie frowns, looking a little confused. “I thought you guys were all good?” “We are,” Buck replies, his eyes never leaving his parents as he watches them greet guests, both looking the brightest and bubbliest he’s seen them in years. From afar he’s sure they look like a regular, happy older couple enjoying their daughter’s wedding, but Buck can’t hide the way seeing them still makes his gut twist uncomfortably. Tommy snorts beside him, bringing him back to reality. “Except Evan decided it was a good idea not to mention me until today” Eddie does a little double take, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “Wait, you haven’t told them yet?” “I’m gonna go find Denny,” Christopher announces, bored of listening to the adults. “Is that okay, Dad?” “Yeah, of course bud. See you in a bit,” Eddie says, ruffling Christopher’s hair. The three of them watch as he shoots off, making his way towards Hen, Karen and Denny as fast as his legs can carry him. When he’s safely out of earshot, Eddie rounds on Buck again, fixing him with an incredulous look. “Seriously, Buck, in what world did you think springing this on them today was a good idea?” “That’s what I said!” Tommy says, flicking Buck a smirk as he squeezes his side. “Hey, you’re meant to be on my side!” Buck protests, elbowing Tommy in the ribs, but it’s all forgiven when Tommy brushes a light kiss against Buck’s temple.  “And I didn’t want to tell them in person, I thought doing it like this would be… easier,” Buck finishes lamely, aware of how delusional he’s sounding. “Uh huh, cause telling your parents big, life changing things has always been easy in person hasn’t it,” Eddie deadpans, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrow at Buck in a way that screams you’re an idiot and you know it. “Listen, I wasn’t exactly thinking -” “Clearly,” Tommy and Eddie say in unison, turning to one another with shit-eating grins as Buck gives them both a flat look, before continuing.  “- but, I didn’t want them to gripe at me and say they would have rather heard it face to face than from behind a phone.” “I think they probably would have had a go at you either way, honestly,” Eddie says with a sympathetic shrug, and he reaches over to squeeze Buck’s shoulder. Buck sighs and burrows closer into Tommy’s side, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Tommy runs his hand down Buck’s spine, rubbing at each spinous process as he encourages Buck to relax. Buck softens a little, biting back a whine as Tommy nuzzles his nose against Buck’s hairline.  “You’re probably right,” he admits with a sigh. He’d really wanted nothing more than to heal his relationship with his parents but turns out it takes more than a little lightning strike and some shitty therapy sessions to mend years of trauma.

No pressure tagging @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @bidisasterevankinard @neverevan

@babybibuck @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks @aroeddiediaz @daffi-990

@jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @bibuckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon

@cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @evanbegins @nmcggg

@alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @weewootruck @rainbow-nerdss @kitteneddiediaz @epicbuddieficrecs

@smilingbuckley @actuallyitsellie @spagheddiediaz @loserdiaz @thekristen999

@loveyouanyway (Remember to interact with this post if you want to be on my taglist and lmk if you want to be removed)

#james writes #7x06 spec fic #bucktommy wedding fic #bucktommy #bucktommy wip #tevan #kinkley #tuck #911 abc #evan buckley #buddie #eddie diaz #911 buddie #911 fanfic #911

[residenthughes]

once bitten, twice shy

pairing: leon kennedy x gender neutral reader

word count: 3.8k (yippee!)

tags/warnings: college/university au, fluff, mentions of vomit/sick and alcohol

summary: house parties can be a strange place. they can be even stranger when you're about to throw up and have to argue to use the bathroom with a certain blue eyed, blonde haired boy too.

notes: my baby! so glad to have finished this! <3 i started writing this pretty much after my last fic (which received so much love, thank you so so much 💗) and finally came together after i went out myself, hehe. have deadlines/exams coming up soon so i'm not particularly sure how much i'll be posting on here until mid june, so mayhaps consider this a gift for not posting then? 🥹 haha, love u all and hope u enjoy!

You enjoyed a good night out once in a while. Your friends and yourself dressed to the nines as you dance the night away with liquor tainted lips and all the freedom in the palm of your hand. It was a great escape from the pressures of endless coursework and constant group meetings. You enjoyed a good house party, too. However, you hadn’t had much luck with those ones. Despite the smaller crowd it drew, the handful of new faces had you anxiously gulping away at your alcohol, ultimately leading to cringe-worthy videos your friends would show you the next day. Based on this, you should have known better - should have politely declined when your friends suggested attending her classmates’ house party and spent the night maybe regretting it. In spite of the myriad of reasons, the past week had been dreadful beyond words and it was an opportunity to wear your latest going out outfit. It was near impossible to say no.

So, here you are. Having the time of your life with friends, dancing under blue flickering lights and letting the night take you away. Well - that’s what you were doing. What you are doing now is desperately trying to find the toilet - your stomach was already uneasy due to the nerves of meeting new people at the party, so you’re sure the sugary drinks added to the alcohol in your system didn’t help either. You felt queasy and an urgent need to relieve yourself, still to no avail. The downstairs bathroom was occupied, so with the sickly feeling travelling up your system, you barge through the mob of people littering the hallways, hand over your mouth in a futile attempt to keep whatever was coming up down.

At the end of the upstairs hallway, your friend’s classmate explained there was an additional bathroom. You’ve never been more relieved to see anything more in your life. Without knowing it, you’re making a mad dash for it, bumping shoulders and mumbling a thousand sorrys. You’re a sight for sore eyes, you know you are, but with the pressing urge to not have witnesses to your untimely projectile vomiting, you really couldn’t give a damn.

You’re so happy to have found the bathroom, even if it may have also been occupied that your eyes miss another figure aiming for the room too. It’s only when your hand reaches for the doorknob that it’s shielded by another hand. Large and comforting. Your eyes search for the source.

Amidst the darkness that permeates the hallways, the blue mood lights provide glimpses into the mystery of the shadowy figure with gentle hands. His face, ivory in colour, is all slopes, features sharp and striking. His cerulean blue eyes framed by the length of his long eyelashes and dirty blond hair makes your heart stutter messily in your chest. For a split second, there is nothing you can do but stare in awe, the tall tales of infatuation spinning your head dizzy.

“Shit, did you wanna go first?” His voice sounds like a siren, sweet and melodic all at once.

With the countless thoughts zooming through your brain, you’re certain any words that would filter through your lips would be nothing except incoherent mumbles. You settle for a nod.

“Uh, hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I needa go too.” His hand is still over yours and if not for the terrible rumble in your stomach, it would have been swept off your feet, along with the sickeningly sweet pet name he gives you.

“Maybe try downstairs? I’m sure it’ll be free soon.” This is the first time you’ve spoken during your brief conversation. The quick raise of the handsome stranger’s eyebrows encourages sheepishness to gnaw at your skin, the pink hues of your cheeks deepening.

“Ocupado, ‘m afraid.” he grins with a sliver of teeth, facial expression moulding into the awkwardness that starts to circle itself around the two of you.

Your hand turns the doorknob faintly and you catch the desperation that flashes in his eyes at your actions. If you weren’t about to soil your new top with stomach acid, you would’ve let him go first, bashful as ever as you hoped you would find him later on in the night whilst hoping he’d spare you another glance. Nevertheless, that was not the case.

“I’m sorry but,” you gulp, trying to keep whatever was coming up back down. “I really, really, really need to go, so…”

He’s stubborn. Stubborn as an ass apparently, because his hand still remains on yours. “Of course, but equally, I need to go as well. Surely, there’s like a sink or something I can go in. I’m really desperate.”

You can’t help as you wrinkle your nose, your patience wearing thin. You literally have to be sick. Why is this not being addressed? “Can’t you just pee outside? Guys do that all the time, don’t they?”

“I’m not an animal, you know.” the handsome stranger argues, and your eye twitches.

How did you end up arguing with a good-looking guy outside a bathroom at a house party?

“I’m not being funny, but if you don’t move, I will throw up all over you.”

“I’ve been meaning to go for an hour now. Can’t we make some sort of compromise?”

You were at your wits end. “As if, you fucking masochist! I’m going first!”

And you do, barging into the blindingly white room with all your might and making a beeline for the toilet. A heavy sigh sounds behind you as you heave into the toilet, bracing yourself for the ugly sight that’ll swim before you.

You hear a zip being undone and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Surely, you’re not…?”

“I told you I needed to go.” the voice comes from the shower beside you. The world spins. House parties fucking suck.

You opt to fully exit your bitter discussion, focusing on ugly turns in your stomach. Your hair circles your face and you curse yourself for not having tied it up beforehand because obviously, it was going to–

It flows out of you. Swiftly and without much difficulty. You lunge forwards into the toilet bowl as the vomit empties out of you whilst the shower runs briefly, followed by the sink.

You just wanna go home.

“Hey,” the call for your attention is docile, the boy’s voice more sympathetic now. “You got a hair tie on ya?”

At this point, you’re on your knees, throwing up your early dinner in front of a boy you bad mouthed because you both wanted to use the bathroom at the same time. There’s no point in being shy now. You want all the help you can get.

You manage to shimmy the hair tie off your wrist and hand it towards his vague direction. For how unacquainted you two are, you move in great harmony as the boy grabs the hair tie and captures all your hair with ease whilst you busy yourself with other pressing issues.

When he’s finished, hair away from your face and in a low ponytail, the warmth of his hand settles against your back. The tears brimming in your eyes fall into the toilet bowl, body still before slow caresses have you melting into the palm of his hand.

“I…I know one of the guys that lives here,” he volunteers, tone unsure. “I’m sure he won’t mind you using one of his spare toothbrushes underneath the sink.”

You only manage back a groan, the icky feeling of humiliation creeping up on you as you continue to exhale into the toilet bowl.

“I’ll be back.”

And the man who peed in the shower leaves. Ok, that was rude of you, he did just help you when you were vomiting in spite of not knowing you. You should have more compassion for him, instead of lashing out at him out of embarrassment. When he gets back, you should thank him for all his help and hope to never see him again. You didn’t think you could live comfortably with yourself if you ever saw him again.

The faint thumps of typical party hits hammer beyond the bathroom, pouring in briefly when the man comes back into the room. By this point, your stomach has settled and you’ve flushed the toilet, yet your head still remains somewhat in the toilet because you couldn’t bear to come face-to-face with the guilt wrapped up in the form of a handsome, kind stranger.

“He said it’s cool, just open the new pack in the grey caddy.” You hear joints crack besides you before there’s a pat on your back. The comfort it brings is enough for you to swallow your pride. “Also, there’s some water next to you. Figured you wouldn’t want to go looking for it.”

Regardless of the ever growing shame that wants to drown you into a sad shell of yourself, your heart swells. The unprompted kindness offered from the stranger is refreshing, you wish you could tell him how grateful you are for him without your shame keeping your head in the toilet bowl.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, wincing at the cringing sensations that course through your body. “Sorry for calling you a masochist earlier.”

He huffs out a bout of laughter and your heart feels lighter. “In all fairness, I was pretty crazy for holding it for that long, so I don’t blame you.”

You hated how you’d have to avoid this man after you two left this room. He was sweet, polite and made you laugh. Why did you have to meet under such ugly conditions?

“Thank you,” you exhale, feeling your heart bloom with the warmth he radiates. “Really.”

“No prob,” he lifts his hand off your back and suddenly, you’re cold again. “I’ll leave you to it. If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen. If not, probably fucking it up on the dancefloor.”

You mumble another thank you after the laughter that leaves your lips, the blue-eyed stranger exiting and leaving you to clean yourself up as ponder on his kindness for a little longer than necessary.

-

You manage to sneak past the kitchen without bumping into the kind stranger. If you weren’t embarrassed before, the embarrassment catches up with you now. Outside, where the cool October wind blows, you’re perched on a step of the back porch, curled into yourself as you breathe in and breathe out. Things could have been a lot worse. You could have thrown up all yourself, delirious and none the wiser as nasty spirited individuals videoed the spectacle, not intervening even once. You could have been in a worse state in front of the stranger, vomit embedded in your hair as you wailed to call your friends or to go home. It could have been so much worse, yet here you are, rocking away as you will yourself not to cry.

You blame it on the emotional turmoil that’s plagued your week. Your academic and interpersonal affairs bore a burden like never before, pushing you beyond your means countless times this week and eventually, as you self soothe in solitude, you succumb to their will. Your friends are worried sick, searching every inch of the unfathomably large house to find you. You shoot them a text, notifying them of your safety and the privacy you seek. With dozens of texts that express reassurance, you let out a sigh before the music playing inside is too good for you to ignore.

Call it foolish, but it’s the nostalgic sounds of 00s’ dance that help you pick up the pieces. Assist in the carefree attitude you adopt that leads you right back inside, finding your friends and changing the course of the night.

If only you knew your carefree attitude would have you right where you once were. Face to face with the handsome stranger, the ends of an empty beer bottle pointed towards you two as bystanders ooh and ahh.

“Get in there, Leon!” a friend - you assume - hollers, slurring his words as he lazily drapes against Leon’s rigid frame.

You two exchange a look, eyes seeking any kind of communication that would hint at what the future held.

Your hand is given a squeeze and suddenly one of your friend’s whispers into your ear. “He’s cute, go for it.”

You crimson. At her words and at the fact that your next encounter with Leon has come so soon. Relentless is the sensation of dread and cringe as it sinks into your bones and buries you into the ground. All eyes are on you and you want nothing more but cringe? Disappear? Run away? There’s so much going on in your head right now.

A hand is outreached. It’s as if a lifeforce beyond yours comes down to save you, extending their hand to sail you away to safety. Alias, it is nothing but a figment of your imagination as you peer up, eyes sparkling as Leon’s tall figure towers over yours. For a second, you can’t read his facial expression, can’t comprehend the logistics of your predicament. However, when the edge of his lips curl upwards, pleasant and mellow in nature, there’s a sense of relief that starts to wash over you.

“Ready if you are.”

He has a way with words. He must have. Otherwise you wouldn’t have felt so comforted on that bathroom floor, otherwise you wouldn’t be in some confined closet, little to no light with the same person you threw up in front of.

“Well,” he starts off after a minute or two of silence. “This is…”

“Awkward.”

A cough is followed by silence. Then laughter.

Out of all the people at this party, the universe had to fabricate yet another meeting with Leon. The guy who you basically cussed out in order to use the bathroom. The same man that after washing his hands, held your hair up for you and soothed your sickness with a gentle back rub. There is nothing more you want to do right now than crawl out of your skin.

“You feeling a bit better now?” Leon’s voice is hushed when he talks to you, gentle and filled with unexpected care.

Despite the awkwardness of your situation, you can’t help disregarding such lame state of feeling as you lean into his kindness. “Yeah, I had a bit more water and was outside for a bit, so I’m pretty much sober now.”

Your fingernails dig into the flesh of your palm. A nervous tic. “Thank you. And, sorry.”

Leon appears to relax into the flow of conversation, moving his body to lean against the wall of the compact closet you find yourselves in. As he shuffles, notes of smoky vanilla waft in the air, Leon’s cologne finding its way to you. The smile you hide behind a closed fist is all kinds of bashful, body drawn to the intoxicating nature of the fragrance.

“I wasn’t terribly nice to you either, so think of it as making amends,” his hand extends forwards, bridging the gap between the two of you. “Truce?”

Amusement tugs at the ends of your lips, humoured by the hints of unseriousness that seems to be a recurring theme in your story. Going from badmouthing one another to being shoved into a tiny closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven and forced to call truce. It’s the kind of bizarre story that hangs in the air after a night out, disgustingly hungover in bed as your friends jam into someone’s room and recall the night’s events.

“Truce.”

You shake on it, pulling away when the flutter of your heart tickles your chest.

Through the dim sliver of marmalade orange light that peeks through the bottom gap of the door, you catch glimpses of Leon. The sharp slants of his jaw, the heavy flutter of his eyelashes, the sheepishness of his smile - all lopsided and accompanied the hues of strawberry jam red. He’s trying his best and it’s endearing. As is he. Charming and caring, a little silly yet undeniably sweet. Perhaps your perspective on him is a bit skewed due to the remnants of alcohol that float in your system, but if you happened across the same dirty blond, blue eyed boy on campus, you know your heart would still beat the same.

“Three minutes!” Someone yells beyond the door, prompting an uptake in your breath.

Never too forward, Leon draws closer to you, hands to himself as he suggests, “We could just head back out, if you’d like. I’m sure they’re not gonna be too up their asses about it.”

You don’t miss a beat. “I don’t want to.”

You’re both caught off guard. Your eyes widened and Leon’s eyebrow raised. It’s as if you’ve been exposed, barenaked for all the world to see your secrets. In itself, your response isn’t the strangest. Anyone would assume after calling truce, your allocated time meant to be spent together could foster the beginnings of a friendship, a friendly conversation. Even so, Leon and yourself were getting ahead of yourselves - reading in between the lines, sifting for something that was there.

“I mean,” the wardrobe is suddenly indescribably small, the surface of your cheeks warming as your eyes dart all over the place. What is going on here? “We could always just talk or…”

“Or what?”

Leon’s being mean. He knows he is. But, he can’t help himself. Jumping the gun, clawing at any and every opportunity to be close to you. Leon spotted your figure earlier during the course of the night, eyes capturing the shimmer in your eyes and bounce of your hair as you happily twirled your friends around on the dancefloor. You were simply magnetic, doused in dazzle and delight as your glittery makeup highlighted your timeless beauty. Leon would’ve approached you, winning you over with his charm and foolish dance moves - but he needed a drink. A drink which became two, two which became three and ultimately he broke the seal, landing him on a collision course with you outside the bathroom.

This isn’t how he imagined meeting you.

Nevertheless, you were together and despite the not-so-great circumstances presented, Leon made the best of it. Helping you and being the gentleman he is. And even if you never saw each other again, he would still remember you for all the shimmer in your eyes and just how infectious your smile was.

Now, under more favourable conditions, he doesn’t want his time with you to end. You’re just as captivating up close, if not more. Timid yet so sweet. Leon gets lost in you - lost in the details of your hair, your voice, your eyes. He wonders if the longer he prolongs your conversation, the sooner you’ll see his attraction towards you. Hopes you’ll reciprocate, hopes you’ll see it too.

“I don’t know.” You settle for, casting your eyes away from Leon as you twiddle your thumbs.

You want to be close with Leon, maybe kiss him if you could. But, you just don’t know. He’s seen you at your worst, sick in the toilet without a thought behind your eyes. You’re still embarrassed - even if Leon makes good work of fending that off. And perhaps because of that, along with other complexities, you want to be close with him.

If only he’d let you.

There’s a huff of frustration before something knocks your shoe. You look, examining Leon’s tired Converse shoe that nestles against your own pair of shoes. Your heart stills.

“I saw you earlier,” he starts, standing tall as he inches closer towards you. His pools of blue know only the sight of your lips, pink in hue and supple with lipgloss. He briefly looks away for his own good. “You looked really good on the dance floor.”

The gravity of your current reality settles in quick. Leon’s with you. Initiating everything and bringing this whole charade to a close. Your instinct is to wrestle with the reasons why, question his intentions and ultimately, take a step back. But, you’re exhausted. You’ve done enough mental gymnastics to last you a lifetime. You know you want this, so why can’t you have it? The answer is clear now. You take the plunge, hands grasping onto his backarm as you test the waters. “You think so?”

You’re gazing into each other’s eyes now, nowhere to run or hide. Leon hums in response yet still searches for something in your eyes - a glimmer of hope, confirmation to proceed and gets it in the form of you leaning into him with the bat of your eyelashes. His arms circle your waist, hesitant at first but solid in their place on the small of your back. You’re already seeing stars.

“Leon?” your voice is barely above a whisper, forehead pressed against Leon’s as you grow impatient.

He hums in reply. “Can we? Can we-”

“Can we kiss?” he says this, lips brushing up against yours. You grip his broad shoulder extra hard incase you buckle at the knees.

“Please,” you only manage to get out before your lips connect.

Leon shows you just how much he wants this, how much he wants you in his kisses. Gentle yet firm in his desire, his lips envelope yours in a way that sets your heart ablaze. Your brain short circuits, the sparks soaring between the two of you insatiable as you melt into each other. Your hand falls to brace yourself against Leon’s chest, the accelerated patter of his heart vibrating against your palm. You can’t help the smile that blends into your kiss, opening an invitation for Leon’s tongue that glides against the flesh of your bottom lip.

“Time’s up!”

His teeth plunge into your bottom lip lightly. You separate with a whine.

There’s a moment before the door opens, time where your eyes scan over Leon to gather all your thoughts and take him in. His pupils are full blown, his arctic blue irises submerged in the dilation of his pupils, lips plump with need and breath laboured. He looks far away, as if he is immersed in a dream that’s too good to be true and judging by the smile that graces his face, you’re sure you look the same.

“Need a mint?” Leon’s all jokes, smile giddy and besotted.

You roll your eyes in response, playfully jabbing his hard bicep with a closed fist. “Says the one who stuck his tongue down my throat.”

“Guilty as charged,” he holds his hands up in surrender, eyes giving you their undivided attention. “Wouldn’t mind doing that again though.”

He punctuates his point with circling his arm around your waist, drawing you in close before placing a delicate kiss against the flushed skin of your cheeks. It’s shameful how much you like this guy already.

“You’re disgusting.”

The door opens and you leave the closet happier than you ever were before.

#resident evil 4 remake #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 fanfic #resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy imagine #re4r #re2 remake #re2 leon #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil fluff #leon s kennedy imagine #my fics

[flightfoot]

Miraculous Enemies AU fanfic recs

So I was just thinking about one of my favorite Miraculous tropes, enemies au. Whether it's Marinette getting the wrong idea about Adrien from the beginning of school, or Chat being cajoled into working for his father, I adore most fics with these tropes, and I'm betting that a lot of other people do as well, so here's a list of some good ones for people to peruse!

Note: I am only listing fics that are currently completed, so you don't have to fear any of these being abandoned. They are in no particular order (or rather, they're in the order in which I was able to track them down in for this list).

cruel youth by @anyxnka

Two teenagers are chosen to wield miraculouses. Only one becomes a superhero. Weeks later, Ladybug’s lucky charm won’t stop spitting out cats.

---

i have found someone (like a nomad finds a home) by @hanaasbananas

After Stoneheart, Gabriel figured out who Chat Noir was, and forced him to work for him, rather than with Ladybug. Years later, Adrien is miserable until one night, he meets Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

---

Unstuck by @ominousunflower

Chat Noir, notorious supervillain of Paris, experiences a wardrobe malfunction in the best and worst possible place: Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s balcony. Heart pounding, Chat pins Marinette’s wrists to the balcony. She stares up at him, her blue eyes kaleidoscopic from the lights hanging overhead, her features twisted into a scowl. “Why are you trying to take my Miraculous?” Chat hisses. “Because—you—I—” Marinette splutters, her eyes dipping down below Chat’s face. “Why is your suit unzipped?” “I—well…” Chat sighs. “My zipper got stuck.”

---

one does not love breathing by @wackus-bonkus-maximus

All of Paris watched as Hawkmoth murdered Chat Noir, taking the Black Cat Miraculous for himself. Ladybug swears revenge, but her enemy—and every Miraculous in his possession—disappear without a trace. Six years later, a new team of villains launches an attack: Volpina, armed with new powers; Queen Bee, with questionable loyalty; Argos, the new holder of the Peacock Miraculous; and Cat Walker, who Ladybug hates the most. Takes place after S4 - Strike Back.

---

with this ring by @thelibraryloser

She thought “you and me against the world” had sounded like lopsided odds before, when she hadn’t even dreamed “you against me” was a possibility. Or maybe she had dreamed it, but at least in those dreams he’d had cold blue eyes and a stark white mask. The villain she’d fought today had looked at her through her partner’s own bright green eyes. It wasn’t meant to be this way.

---

Nothing Else Matters by LiquefiedStars

Marinette couldn’t figure out Chat Noir. He was supposed to be her partner, but instead ended up working for Hawk Moth. Still, her heart betrayed her and when a strong connection forms between them, Ladybug goes to Chat looking for answers, finding out more than she bargained for.

---

home is where the fight is by @rosie-b

Nadja Chamack’s voice greeted Adrien as he sat up straight, wiping his clammy hands on his pants and ignoring the black kwami floating by his shoulder. “—shocked to see our heroine fall in battle today, taking a direct hit from the akuma just as she detransformed. Parisians are torn between blaming Hawk Moth and Cat Walker for their roles in this tragedy, which ultimately revealed the civilian identity of Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Adrien turned off the TV and lowered his head as his vision blurred. Written for Ladrien June Day 7: Injured

---

The Great War by icebelle24

'And maybe it’s the past that’s talking, screaming from a crypt Telling me to punish you for things you never did So I justified it' The unthinkable happens, and suddenly, Chat Noir’s allegiances change. Now Ladybug stands on the opposite side of the battlefield from the boy who was once her partner, left alone to make sense of an impossible situation. At least she still has Adrien to give her hope. Or maybe this war is not entirely what it seems.

---

Miss Dial by @mysticraven20

Adrien Agreste has always considered Marinette Dupain-Cheng entertaining. Whether it was the endless back and forth of their banter, the clumsiness he found so cute or the fact her anger levels could go from 1-100 in a mere millisecond; he always found there was something about her... if only he could get to know her better. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has always considered Adrien Agreste a pompous, arrogant asshole. From his constant teasing of her, to the obnoxious laugh at her discomfort and the way he could anger her quicker than any other human being; she knew she hated Adrien Agreste with all she was worth. But what happens when Adrien accidentally sends the wrong text to the wrong person and a new friendship blossoms - a friendship deeper than either have ever known? Will Marinette choose to stay faithful to the budding relationship with the boy on the other side of the phone? Or will a new job with an old foe fill the loneliness in her heart?

---

call it even by @anna-scribbles and @sha-nwa

After a year of dating, there is one thing Marinette knows for certain: it's her and Adrien against the world. Through it all, Adrien is kind, patient, and endlessly understanding—even as she tries her best to keep her secret superhero identity hidden from him along with the rest of the world. Nothing could ruin it, not even the supervillains of Paris: Hawkmoth and Chat Noir. (adrinette dating // ladynoir enemies au)

---

oh, look, there you go with hope again by @ladyofthenoodle

After the defeat of Hawkmoth and his accomplice, Chat Noir, Marinette is ready to return to her normal life, but she can't escape Adrien Agreste, who was sentenced to a fate many consider worse than prison: public school. Specifically, her public school. Still, that doesn't mean she has to interact with him, does it? Except, if she doesn't... who will?

---

Redemption by JamieHasCatEyes

Papillon has been defeated and imprisoned, but his accomplice, Chat Noir, was given a second chance. Marinette's time as Ladybug may be over, but she still has work to do if she wants to help Adrien reintegrate back into society.

---

The Son Of My Enemy by Saccha

Cat Noir never wanted to be a villain, but he doesn't have a choice. Ladybug wishes she could save him. A reverse love square, villain!Cat Noir AU.

---

metamorphosis by @peachcitt

“I was thinking about that time you hated me.” “Why?” "I don’t know." “I didn’t.” “I know.” or three years after hawkmoth's defeat, marinette is still trying to figure out her version of normal. there's also sleepovers.

---

Stealing Freedom by @rosie-b

Adrien Agreste was a good person. Marinette knew this to be true, of course; she wouldn’t be marrying him if he were some irredeemable villain. No, her fiancé was practically the opposite of evil. He cooed over babies and kittens, literally stopped to smell the roses, and always brought large bouquets of them to dates. He had trouble killing spiders and bugs, begging his partner to take on the task whenever she was around to save him. Adrien was the sweetest person Marinette knew, the most kindhearted, the most forgiving; he was almost too perfect for her sometimes. But now, Marinette knew that the same Adrien who still blushed when his fiancée kissed him was also the well-known terror of Paris, Cat Walker.

#ml fanfic rec #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #enemies au #ml enemies au #lovesquare #ml lovesquare

[itadore-you]

just for me

pairing: katsuki bakugo x gn!reader w/c: ~ 1k c/w + context: comfort fic. big ass panic attack. if this may trigger you, pls steer clear of this one!

════════════════════════════════════

The violet void of the night has claimed you as a victim once again. It has invisible toothpicks for nails that pry open your eyelids for inspection, declaring you blind. 

"Are you scared yet?" It rasps.

You tremble, because you already know what it'll say next.

Nothing. It won't say a word.

Its silence prompts your subconscious to speak for itself, letting the undead scream. Once they're woken, there's no shutting them up. The voices don't come alone. Like a pretty Russian doll, there's always more. Hordes of images; so much that you have seen. They blot across your vision, so viscerally colourful against the dark of night. You're certain that you will die.

All of a sudden, the dark grows hands that hold onto yours - they're smooth, they're warm, and they … aren't to be trusted when you get like this. 

Your first instinct is to slap them away. Nothing is safe in the minefield of your mind.

"It's me," murmurs a low voice from beside you. "I'm right here."

"Kats- Katsuki?" 

You sound broken. It makes him grit his teeth, knowing what's happening to you. It doesn't happen often, but it happens often enough that he knows the signs. He knows how to help, but not how to fix, and it pains him. Quickly he illuminates the room with a light spark from one of his palms, the crackle emphasizing his presence.

"Yes," he continues to slowly reassure you. "Me. Katsuki. I'm right here."

He wishes he could promise it. He wishes that he could fight alongside you. Blow it all up, leaving those nocturnal demons charred and in pieces. He knows, that even by being here right now, it's not going to stop it on its own. He's reached a limit that he can't force himself through. 

He takes in a deep breath as he holds your hands a little tighter, and he continues. 

"Squeeze my hands back."

It takes several moments for you to manage the movement. These "attacks" often leave you fucking paralysed after all. But once you grip Katsuki's hands, you keep squeezing, tighter and tighter. 

He smiles a little at that, knowing that it's somewhat broken the trance. 

"Good. You can keep going." 

He doesn't mind it, no matter how hard it hurts, because he won't let you keep feeling so hurt, all alone. He still remembers seeing your first episode, the uselessness that weighed down his heart as he watched the person he loved whilst he did nothing, he couldn’t do anything. Never again. 

Never.

You hold onto him tighter over the next couple of minutes. Slowly he offers his arms, and eventually, you accept his embrace - he knows to not constrict you fully in his arms, but instead help you feel grounded. 

It takes time before the tempo of your breathing matches his, no longer shallow and rapid. Even in the dark, you can now find the fierce red of his eyes meeting yours. He knows to hold your gaze like this, to silently reassure you that you’re going to be OK. 

He whispers a couple of words, asking if you feel like you can stand. He doesn't let go of your hand as he gets you on your feet, motivating you to move with him as he ambles over to the side of your shared bedroom. 

It's nice, not to remain curled up beneath a duvet until you sweat buckets, and you can’t tell the difference between perspiration and tears. 

Katsuki notices the vacant look in your expression as you motionlessly stand next to him. He's got to be careful now, because that break of clarity is not always the ‘calm after the storm’. Sometimes it comes right back, striking fast like a viper. 

The click of your kettle sounds and an impending crescendo ensues as the water boils. The sound is like a pleasant white noise that fills the empty air, static that your brain can't be louder than. You could swear that you kept the kettle in the kitchen, not in here. Katsuki must have brought it, as well as the cup he grabs from seemingly nowhere, and the faint aroma of chamomile starts to arise in the room. 

Another click from the kettle, alerting you both that the water has finished boiling. As Katsuki pours the stream of water into the cup, the smell of chamomile grows stronger. You notice that your lungs seem to expand double the size from before, breathing in the calming scent. 

Bakugo lifts the steaming cup to you, watching as you take deep breaths. He knows you like the smell and taste of the tea. It's something so basic, so seemingly trivial, but it works. 

Out of all your five senses, he's the one that makes the most sense. Bakugo stands before you, untainted and real - more real than what was happening inside of your mind.

He stays with you like that for a while, waiting for the tea to cool down so you can drink it. In the meantime, he talks about a couple of things. He brings up some stupid banter from the conference room yesterday; still finding it stupid, but knowing that you'd find it funny. He mentions, on the side, that he wants to buy some poppy seeds for your garden. It sounds random, but each one of Katsuki's words is chosen with care to distract you from your thoughts.

All the while, he can see a spark start to come back in your eyes. They’re no longer as dull and dead as they were before. 

He's glad.

He’s not going to ask if you feel better.

He already knows.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsuki x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #mha fanfic #high five if you read this you get me #tw panic attack #cw panic attack #tw anxiety

[demonvibez]

Impulsive

Characters: Lord Diavolo x GN! Reader Rating: Teen Tags: comfort, fluff, gn reader, MC uses magic, kissing Word Count: 4.3k+ A/N: Happy (Belated) Birthday to My Sweet Prince, Lord Diavolo ♡ I'd give him all three realms if I could, but for now, I'll settle for sharing this silly little fluff fic. This may be my favorite thing I've written so far, so I hope you all enjoy it as well!

Late was the hour at the House of Lamentation, when you find yourself tossing and turning in your slumber, your mind currently pulled into the depths of a rather vivid nightmare. It was one of those nightmares that just feels so real, filling your senses and sending you running from the unknown terror, your heart pounding as you run deeper into what looks like the House but feels like a maze. Surely there aren't this many hallways when you're awake?! And so many doors! You run to the end of the hall, ripping open the large double doors and running into the next...which seems eerily identical to the last. Except when you get to the end of the hall this time, you run into a dead end. Panic now striking your heart you turn to the window, only for it to vanish as you touch it. A crimson ooze begins to drip down the walls, and you can feel the shadow entity getting closer, your breathing becoming more erratic as your back presses into the corner. You're trapped. Something reaches out towards you from the abyss, it's sharp claws coming into view the closer it gets.

Just before it can grab you by the neck, you fully awaken from your night terror, pushing yourself to sit up in bed so that you may try to catch your breath. You hyperventilate for a moment, grabbing your chest with one hand as the other maintains a tight grip on the bed sheets as your eyes quickly dart around the room. You're awake, and you're okay. You snap your fingers to magically turn the lights up, so that you may inspect the room closer. Nothing on the walls - and you let out a relieved sigh. You sit with yourself for a moment, in an effort to allow your breathing to return to normal, before flinging your legs over the side of the bed and standing up. You cross the room and make your way over to the window near your desk. Reaching out to touch the window, a slight hesitation makes your hand tremble. As your fingertips touch the cool pane of the glass, you breathe out an even bigger sigh of relief. The window didn't disappear this time - you are definitely safe and back in your own reality.

So, why can't you shake this eerie feeling? That same looming anxiety that filled your mind as you were being chased by the shadow creature. You shake your head, trying to just will it away, as you pick up your jacket from the back of a chair and pull it on. You cross your arms to hug yourself as you walk back over to your bedside table. Eyeing your DDD on the charger, you reach down to pick it up, unlocking it and opening the contacts in one fluid motion. Before you can even process what you are doing, you are already dialing a number, the phone pressed to your ear as you sit down at the edge of the bed. It's not until you hear his voice at the other end of the line do you really register just what you're doing. The Future King of the Devildom murmurs your name, a slight hint of concern lacing his voice - he's surprised to hear from you at this time of night. 

"Is something wrong? Are you alright," he asks you. He has no idea that the sound of his voice alone is so soothing to you. You let out a shaky breath that you had no idea you were holding, scooting back on the bed so that you can lean against the wall.

"Y-yeah...I'm okay...I-" you cut yourself off, your eyes briefly widening. Are you really bothering Lord Diavolo with your foolish little problems? It was just a nightmare, and you're awake now. You're sure the Prince has way more important things to worry about than the silly night terrors of a human. "I'm so sorry for bothering you, I know you must be busy wi-" he cuts you off by saying your name once again, this time with a slightly firmer tone.

"I've told you time and time again that you may come to me for anything, at any time," he reminds you. Softening his tone, he exhales before continuing, "Please. Tell me, what's wrong?" He truly meant it when he said you can come to him for anything. It warms his heart to think about you coming to him for help, especially when you have so many demons around you that are also willing to give you the world.

"It's...I just...it's gonna sound really stupid..." you trail off, as you fidget with the hem of one of your blankets.

"I assure you, nothing you could possibly say to me is ever going to be 'stupid.'" As you let out another exhausted sigh, you can hear the squeaking of his desk chair as he leans back against it. Lord Diavolo has always been very sweet to you, doing his best to accommodate all of your needs since you've dropped down into his realm. He always seems to have the answer to your problems, especially the more massive ones - what will it hurt to vent to him now?

"I...had a rather vivid nightmare. It felt so real to me..." You begin to describe your nightmare in great detail, not holding back any of the emotions that came along with it. Retelling this graphic tale almost makes you feel as though you are reliving it, and the crack in your voice pierces Diavolo's heart as you try to hold back tears while you finish your story. "And then I woke up," you say with a sniffle, "I guess I was quite shaken by it all, and I called you because...well, it was kind of an impulse to be honest, but I think I just really wanted to hear your voice," you admit, a rosy blush painting your cheeks. You were a bit glad Lord Diavolo couldn't see you right now - you aren't sure, but you probably look like a bit of a mess. Something else you are unaware of, is exactly how much your admission has effected the Young Prince. The idea that you instinctively sought him out for comfort is enough to get his heart racing, and now it is time for him to act on impulse - which is something he is rather good at.

"I'll be by the House of Lamentation to pick you up soon," he declares, the sound of his chair scuffing the floor ringing out across the phone line. Your eyes widen, and you jump up to stand on your bed in surprise.

"Uhhh...excuse me, WHAT?!?" There's no way he's serious. You hear his signature laugh, and now you know he's not joking.

"I'm coming to pick you up! A change of scenery is always a good idea after a nightmare - especially when the nightmare occurs where you're trying to sleep. I'll just leave a note for Lucifer, and bring you back to the Castle. This is going to be so much fun," he says excitedly. An impromptu sleepover with the Future King of the Devildom does sound like a fun idea - but doesn't he have more important things to do than to entertain you?

"Lord Dia-"

"AH! What did I say about using my titles when it's just us?" You can't help but to let out a tiny giggle, and it sends his heart over the Devildom moon.

"Okay, you're right. I'm sorry. I just don't want to be a burden on you. It's late, and I'm sure you have more important things to-"

"Nonsense," he cuts you off again. How can you possibly think you could ever be a burden to him? "I had just finished my work for the night when you called, and Barbatos hasn't even started the tea yet. We are just going to quickly portal over to you, and bring you back. It will be no trouble for us at all. Please, let me help you." Please, just let him take care of you. If you could see the look in his eyes right now, you'd see how much he yearns to pamper you with all of his affections. You spend so much time time and energy taking care of all of your demons, he wants so badly to be the one doing the same for you. Let him show you that he can be there for you, that he is capable of being your protector - even if it's from terrors created by your own mind.

"Okay...if you're really sure, then I'm game. Can you just give me like...five minutes?" He honestly doesn't have to ask you twice to hang out, you'll take any excuse to see Diavolo. You don't want to inconvenience him, but he's insisting, so why not take the gorgeous golden-eyed demon up on his offer? And even if you won't be able to fall back asleep, at least you'll have his company; his perfect smile, his soothing voice, the warm embrace of his hugs...

Before the Prince can even answer, he hears the sound of you jumping off of your bed and running around in your room. He can't help but to let out a small chuckle at how cute he thinks you are. He would tell you that there's no need to bother yourself, that you may come as you are - but as he finds himself in front of his own mirror, straightening his tie and hand-combing his hair, he relates to wanting to look impressionable for the person you're so deeply in love with. He's unsure if you return his feelings, but the idea of you scrambling around your room just to look cute for him for a surprise date has heat rising to his cheeks - which is ironic, seeing as you're doing exactly that.

"Of course! I'll send you a text just before we head over," he replies. Just after saying your goodbyes and hanging up, you race to your bathroom to freshen up your face. You had already tore off your jacket and discarded half of whatever other comfortable clothes you had worn to bed that night. Is this really about to happen?! Talk about a plot twist! One moment you're thrashing around in bed consumed with your nightmares, and the next your about to be picked up by the Future King to go hang out with him at the Demon Lord's Castle - your life can be such a rollercoaster at times.

You quickly wash your face at the sink, splashing the water in your face once more and staring into your owns eyes in the mirror, making sure this isn't also a dream. You've experienced nested dreaming a few times in your life, and it would sure as hell be disappointing if you weren't really about to see Diavolo. You shake your head, brushing off the thought, before turning off the water and exiting the bathroom.

You walk back across your room, and freeze in the doorway of your closet. The back of your closet is so dark - no matter how long you let your eyes adjust, the shadows casted in the back corners of the room still have this eerily ominous feeling. Your hand shakily reaches out towards the light switch, the hair on your arm standing up as anxiety courses through your veins. Just as you're about to flip the light switch on, a loud ding comes from your DDD, and you can't help but to jump. Your heart pounds in your chest for a few seconds before you remember why your phone had dinged - they must be on their way. Damn it! You're nowhere near ready! You flip the light on and start scrambling through your clothes, pulling out a pair of cute pajamas and putting them on. 

Just as you are pulling the bottoms up to your hips, you hear a slight cracking sound coming from the hallway, followed by a low humming noise. Barbatos' portal - they must be standing outside. Just as you arrive at the door, you hear a light knock, and you open it to find the Prince standing there in his RAD uniform, fist still raised to knock a second time. Behind him you can see Barbatos still in Diavolo's room, on the other side of the portal, his back turned to you as he sets a tray of sweets down on the glass coffee table by the bed. You look up at the gorgeous demon in front of you, and you can't help but to smile as your eyes connect with his. And the way he smiles back down at you, with a radiance brighter than any Celestial sun, is enough to make a small flurry of butterflies dance around in your stomach.

"Hey there! Ready to go?"

"Yeah, one second. Just need to grab my jacket real quick-" you go to turn around and pick up your jacket that you had previously thrown onto the floor, but Diavolo's voice interrupts you once again.

"There's no need," he says in his usually jovial tone, "I can have Barbatos light the fireplace if you'd like." Just then, you see the Butler turn around and nod at you, before speaking to you through the portal.

"Yes, and I have just started steeping a fresh pot of Hellfire Rose Tea. We have plenty of warm blankets, fresh from the dryer. You will not go cold in our care," says Barbatos, his lips curving upward in a knowing smile. For half a moment you wonder to yourself if he already knows what the course of tonight's events will be, but you don't really have too much time to wonder about that right now. 

"And of course, if all else fails, there is this." Looking down at his own chest, he starts unbuttoning his red RAD jacket. A blush creeps across your face as he unbuckles the golden belt and pulls the coat off of his large frame, holding it out for you to slide into. Your heart feels as though it is going to jump into your throat as you slide in your arms, the scent of Diavolo's cologne filling your senses as you pull the jacket tighter to your chest. The coat is rather baggy and long on you, but you feel so cozy that you don't even care. 

"Thank you so much for all of this, Dia," you say with a light blush still on your cheeks as you look up at him bashfully. Hearing the little nickname you've given him, the Young Prince can't help but to blush as well. No one has ever been so informal with him; he hopes you'll use it more, the sound of it coming from your lips like music to his ears. You move to try to take a step forward, but your feet accidentally step on the bottom of the coat, causing you to stumble forward a little.

"Oops, I suppose I didn't take that into account. Here, let me help you with that." And before you can even ask, Diavolo bends down and scoops you up in his arms. You let out a small yip as you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, your little human hands struggling to grip him through the oversized coat sleeves as he adjusts you in his hold. He turns around with you to walk back towards the portal, and you tap his shoulder to stop him for a moment.

"Wait! One sec..." With your right arm hooked around him, you raise your left, shaking it a bit so the sleeve falls down your arm. Your reach your hand out behind him, focusing all of your energy towards the DDD that you dropped on your bed earlier. You close your eyes, visualizing in your mind the phone rising up off the bed and floating into your hand. The more you focus on it, the stronger your intent becomes, and a surge of magical energy within you causes you to open your eyes back up just as the phone glides itself across the room and into your grasp. At the feeling of the phone's plastic case hitting your hand, your eyes widen in surprise as you let out a joyful laugh. "I can't believe it finally worked..." You show Diavolo the phone you just grabbed telekinetically, pride filling your chest and spreading to the smirk on your face.

"Nicely done! Seems as though your sorcery lessons are paying off." That same pride fills the Prince's chest, for you find new ways to surprise and impress him every day.

"Thanks, I've been working quite hard on that particular skill." You slide the phone into one of the coat's pockets before wrapping your arm back around him. He walks the two of you through the portal, and over towards the grey-striped couch next to his bed. The cracking noise of the portal closing rings out once again, the subsequent hum it produced now falling silent. The only sound currently filling the room is that of Barbatos arranging a tea set on the glass top of the coffee table, along with the slight squeak of the couch cushions as Diavolo sits down with you, setting you in his lap as he leans back into the corner of the couch. You unwrap your arms from around his neck, making yourself comfortable and leaning back against him, your cheek resting against his collar bone as you drape an arm across his torso. Diavolo wraps his arms around you, pulling you just a little bit closer, and your eyes flutter closed at the warm embrace. That is, until, you remember...

"Oh, fuck," you exclaim, your eyes snapping back open, "did we ever leave a note for Lucifer?" Sure, the Young Prince is best friends with the Avatar of Pride, but it's still usually better for you to ask for permission from Lucifer rather than forgiveness. The Morningstar is no stranger to handing down punishments - even to his favorite human. Diavolo looks down at you, and the look on your face must have been priceless, for you can feel the laughter building up and shaking his chest before ringing out into the open air.

"Yes, in fact, I sent him a text message before making my way over to you. The last thing we want is a concerned Lucifer tearing apart the realm looking for you." And the last thing Diavolo wants is an intrusion by the Eldest Demon Brother. Lucifer always prides himself on how well he looks after you, always stepping up to the plate when he is needed the most. And while he admires all of the traits that afford Lucifer's status as the Avatar of Pride and Right Hand of the Future King, Diavolo sometimes feels as though it hinders his ability to get closer to you. He does his best to mask his jealousy, but you don't miss the way he pulls you just a little bit tighter to his chest. You can feel a faint tingle coming from the location of Leviathan's pact mark, causing your eyebrows to slightly furrow. Was Lord Diavolo really feeling envious towards Lucifer? Over you? Your eyes quickly dart over to Barbatos, who is currently walking out of the bedroom door, most likely to fetch the pot of tea. As the sin continues to stimulate the sigil on your skin, you can only deduce that it must be Diavolo. 

"Indeed, the last thing we want is for our time together to be cut short," you say, looking up into those gorgeous honey eyes of his, "At this point, I'm kinda glad I had that stupid nightmare..." The way he gazes down at you, so loving and full of affection, causes your heart to start beating at a rapid pace. You aren't sure if you're reading the situation correctly, but the moment just feels so...right. Impulse has led you both to this exact moment, and into the arms of the demon you've been pining over for so long. Perhaps your instincts will be right again this time.

Your hand floats up to cup his cheek, and immediately you can feel him lean into your touch. You hear him murmur your name, spoken in a tone laced with a longing you hadn't heard from him before. You both lean into each other, your lips meeting in a kiss that you both felt like you had waited an eternity for - like you both had been trekking across a barren desert, and you finally found an oasis in each other. Your hands glide up so they lace through his hair, as he pulls you so you're facing him, his hands resting on your hips. You lightly nibble his bottom lip, at which you can feel his large hands give your hips a little squeeze, and he obliges you by deepening the kiss that you're both so entranced by. 

You're both so lost each in other's tender embrace, wanting so badly for the moment to continue on endlessly, that you don't even hear Barbatos re-enter the room. The Butler was really doing his best not to interrupt the two of you - he was happy to finally see the Young Master making progress with you, in regards to his admiration. Neither of you had heard the sounds of the door opening and closing shut, so he was a little surprised that the sound of the teaspoon clinking on the glass tabletop is what grabbed your attention. You jump a little bit, your nose bumping into his slightly, before looking over your shoulder to see Barbatos with an amused look on his face - you erupt into laughter, with the other two following soon after. 

"My apologies, I did not mean to interrupt the two of you. However, the tea is ready, along with a few snacks that I have prepared that I know you are both fond of." You give Diavolo a little peck on the cheek, causing him to have the goofiest grin in all three realms, before sliding off of his lap and sitting next to him. Your hands have a slight tremble from all of the excitement, and the last thing you want to do is spill scorching hot Hellfire Rose Tea all over Diavolo and yourself. You reach for the cup of tea Barbatos prepared for you, about to take a sip as the Butler hands a plate of sweets to the Prince.

"Would you like for me to enchant the tea? To ensure that your nightmares will cease," he asks, as he crosses the room to put some music on the record player, turning the volume down so that it may play in the background. 

"No," you say with a slight blush, your eyes darting to Diavolo from behind your teacup, "I have Dia now, so I think I'm good." You smirk as you take a sip, maintaining eye contact with Diavolo as he takes a bite into his Hellfire Mushroom Rolled Cigar Cookie, the blush spreading across his tan face as your words sink in.

The two of you spend quite a bit of time together that night, just sitting in each other's arms and talking about everything and nothing. It started off just chatting in more detail about the contents of your nightmare, but quickly digressed into talking of your fears, your dreams, your ambitions, your aspirations. Diavolo has never connected with another being like this before, and he's all the more glad he gets to grow such a connection with you. And while he listens to your voice, he comes to the realization that there's no one else he'd rather bare his infernal soul to in all three realms. His visions of the future always have you in it, and he couldn't be happier to hear that you feel the same way. You both continue to exchange stories of your fondest memories, making plans to create new memories together in the future. 

Just as Diavolo gets halfway though his story - one of the many tales of him causing chaos to then sneak out of the Castle - he feels the weight of your cheek fall against his shoulder. Your breathing steady and one of your hands gripping his shirt as you accidentally fall asleep in his lap. Between his soothing voice, the soft lull of the music, and feeling completely safe in his arms, you couldn't help but to drift off to dreamland. And he can't help but to just sit and watch you for a moment; you look so beautifully at peace in your slumber, he wants to etch it into his mind permanently. He eventually picks you up as gently as possible - you only stir once or twice. The first time at the motion of him picking you up; the second when he sets you down on his bed and you subconsciously miss the feeling of his warm embrace as he goes to quickly change his clothes. 

He slides into bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to him, your back pressing up against his chest. As your feel his warmth envelop you, you turn over to face him, one of your arms wrapping around him as well while you're only half awake. He lays on his back, pulling you on top of him, and you lightly nuzzle his chest and mumble an 'I love you' before you fall back fully asleep again. Diavolo's heart feels so full - he never knew three simple words could mean so much to him. He presses a kiss into the top of your head before laying back and shutting his eyes, happier than he's ever been in his life. And while he doesn't want you having anymore nightmares, he'd give anything to spend the rest of his nights like this with you.

· demonvibez ♡ 2023 · do not copy, repost or modify · · likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

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[weaper-reaper]

@sprout-fics is HOLDING it together with new König content (pls go check work out! The little-mouse series has got me foaming). But I figured since there’s such a lack of content for our boy- and even less M!reader content, I figured I’d treat :) Enjoy! Also thanks to @snail-eggs for convincing me NOT to use the phrase “boy-button”

Good Boy

König x M!reader

2nd Person, Pure Smut, Minors DNI

Reader is a service bottom and just wants to make König feel good after a hard week.

CW: Established relationship, Smut, blowjobs, facefucking, throat bulge, rimming, fingering, doggy style, mating press, creampie (duh) WC ~2.1k

You didn’t notice it was cold until the shiver in your body fizzed out, a broad chest coaxed the chill ache from the center of your shoulder blades, and an arm snug and tight over your waist. The far away sound of thunder and rain slapping heavy on the stone outside drew you back to reality first. How long had you been asleep? Time passed so quickly lately, but the warm breath fanning over your collarbones grounded you to the moment.

Your eyes slit open, just enough to watch blearily as the candlelight’s flame flickered shadows over the room. The mass of the man to your side shifted, and pulled you closer at the next strike of lightning. Was it your heart that skipped a beat?

“Welcome back.” You whispered. Mainly to yourself, König seemed to fall seamlessly back into his normal cuddly role- as if he’d never left.

He grumbled something non-committal into your neck, the prick of his unshaven chin scratching sensitive spots behind your ear. Your body twitched, and he responded by loosening his grip on you enough so that you could worm around to face him.

There was no way the lighting had been bright enough for you to see all of him, but that look was still there. Lazy hooded eyes, messy hair covering the edges of his face, and a twisted half-smile that pulled his scarred skin taut. Your fingers danced up to trace each one, an act you’d don’t countless times before. His eyes closed and a broken sigh weaped from his crooked nose.

“I’m assuming your meeting didn’t go very well?” You more stated, than asked.

“No.” He shook his head, “These men are… stupid.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that burst from your lungs, and slightly embarrassed as you wiped and sniffled at your nose until the giggle died down.

“Not all men though, surely?”

His smile settled as he looked over your scrunched face, bringing two fingers to hold your chin straight.

“No.” He said again, with a glint in his eye. “Not this one, at least.”

Your heart fluttered as he partially rolled over you, his massive frame didn’t need to hover above to tower you completely. His hand trailed down your naked chest, carefully dipping over the quickly growing tent in your boxers, then over a bone in your hip.

His eyes never left yours. “Is this okay?”

A moan of anticipation seeped through your silky lips as his graced just over yours, “More than okay,” You whispered. “I’d die another week without you.”

Königs eyes crinkled, and his mouth graced yours in a slow and soft, but desperate kiss. His tongue flicked at your bottom lip, and his nose dug deep into your inner cheek. The closeness of him- and the hand massaging your dick- made your head go all fuzzy. His sly fingers slipped down under the band of your underwear and cupped your entire length in one palm. Your hips twitched and he paused his minstrations to mumble low praises in your ear.

“Well that wouldn’t do, did you miss me that much, Liebling?” He egged, teeth nipping at the shell of your ear and then at the skin below your jaw as he slouched his way down your body.

Your bottom lip sucked into your teeth, “I could show you,” you hesitated, hand trailing down the cloth of his tee and settled just over where his happy trail started. “Just how much I’ve missed you, I mean.”

Königs movements stuttered, in awe of your boldness. Then a cheeky grin pulled over his face and he fell onto his side, scrunching up his shirt under his chin with one hand- presenting himself to you. “I am yours, then.”

With an invigorated look, and an equally wild glint in his eyes you twisted on your side and slid down the bed until you were face-level with the dark bulge in his sweats. The candlelight flickered once more, as if it could sense the anticipation, and illuminated Königs pale skin in a deep amber glow. A light sheen of sweat glistened over the tight muscles of his abdomen, and the sight made your mouth begin to water.

You pressed a kiss of adoration over the dip in each of his hips, and his free hand ran smoothly through your bedhead. He ran a thumb over your cheekbone, and then his fingers settled tight over the underside of your jaw.

“You’re so pretty.” He mumbled, and it sounded instead like he was just thinking out loud.

With a new heat pulsing over your face, you tucked your chin down and pulled at his boxers until they were stretched over his massive thighs. His cock sprung upwards immediately, and the sticky pre beading across the middle of his head almost made you drool. It twitched the longer you stared, and pointed directly up; tip reaching just over his belly button.

You nuzzled in closer, and brought a hot tongue from the base to that very tip, his salty essence pooling thick inside of your mouth as you encircled it. König groaned, and his fingers ticked at your jaw, inching himself further into your mouth until he felt resistance halfway down. You gagged over him, and slowed your breathing enough to allow another inch or so further into the opening of your throat.

“Scheisse..” he choked, “you’re so good at that.” And encouraged you to take him down again with a couple cants of his hips.

You did so, greedily. Swallowing as much of him down as you could before you needed to bring yourself back up to breathe. König was shaking by the fifth plunge, and small whimpers escaped his lips far too often. Embarrassed with how easily you ruined him, he raised an arm over his mouth- biting into the corded and veiny muscle to silence himself.

A part of you creened his noises, so in retaliation you dipped the tip of your tongue over his slit on the next pass, eliciting an arch and groan from the massive man. You pulled off him with a pop, and heaved the thick air between the two of you. Your own erection strained against your underwear, until you kicked it off, and it rubbed raw against the sheets.

König recollected his breath, and pulled you back down over him rather roughly. You grunted when he shoved his cock back into your tiny mouth. “Come, Liebling.” He egged.

“Show me what a good boy you can be.”

Normally the phrase would’ve made you laugh, but the intensity in his stare and the thickness of his shaft down your throat only made you harder. You couldn’t help but groan around him- one he echoed once the noise vibrated through him. You took in all of him again- he made you. With jagged thrusts and a hand at the base of your neck he pumped himself deep inside your throat. So much that you swore you could feel the outside bulge.

It wasn’t until your eyes were so watery that you couldn’t see him anymore, and your lips were raw that he decided to pull out of you. A trail of saliva and pre briged across from the corner of your mouth to his tip- swollen and bright.

“That’s it.” He cooed and pulled you up onto your stomach flat across the bed with strong practiced ease. The movement made your body twitch with want. He twisted and settled behind you, nudging you up onto your knees in front of him.

A hot mouth settled directly over your spread and exposed parts, tongue wasting no time- delving as deep as it could get inside of you. His burning breath brushed through the crack in your cheeks, and cascaded down your back. Your body shook immediately, and you flew a hand around to curl into his hair.

“Oh my god,” you groaned into the sheets, digging your face into the beige covers. “Fuck.. fuck! König, don't make me wait.” You begged, wanting only the feel of him as close as you could get him.

His hand came up to palm you at your base, and you almost exploded from the contact. His fingers wrapped tightly around your length and he pumped in time with his tongue. You groaned out again, needy.

“Königg..”

He slipped his tongue out, only to replace it with two fingers curled perfectly downwards enough so that it brushed over the sensitive bump deep inside of you. Your hips twitched involuntarily, and your hand flew to the base of your cock to prevent it from cumming. You twisted tight fingers around the base as it pulsed and jumped hot. Your own pre no doubt soaking the sheets below.

You panted when you spoke again, his fingers stretching you open completely. “It’s enough, please. I need you inside of me.”

König groaned out again behind you, shocked by how needy you sounded. And rose so that his chest covered your entire back. Cock head sliding against your entrance. He lubed you up with his own slick, then deftly pressed the head rough enough so that it popped just inside of you. The both of you moaned in unison, and he had to hold himself back from shoving the entire thing through you with one go.

“Ahh..” he hissed, lurching forward enough to plant another few inches inside. A hand settled over your hip, the other keeping him propped upright. You pulled from him, just to arch your back enough so two more inches slid through.

His spongy head brushed just against the button of your prostate and that knot twisted at the base of your stomach, another thrust and your balls pulled up taut so that you couldn’t help but cum right then, even with your hand attempting to cut off all circulation.

You pulsed and buzzed as each wave crashed through you. Sticky liquid ruining the clean sheets below. König muffled his moans into the crevice of your shoulder blades as you clenched and pulled him deeper and deeper inside. He jerked forward and seated the rest of himself completely within your warm center. His breath- hot and heavy over your ear as the both of you panted.

“So tight,” he muttered, accent thick and every inch of him present. Your body loosened and weakly aware of the way his pressed perfectly into you.

He took a beat before withdrawing enough to leave you aching, and then re-filling you to the brink. You whined with hypersensitivity. “Fuck, I-I just came-“

“Then it’s my turn, right?” He teased with a fry laugh, peeling his sweaty body from yours to palm both hips in a possessive grip. Pulling your body back into him like he was playing with you, a toy to get him off and make him feel good.

Your eyes teared up and every inch of your body screamed from over exhaustion. Still not quite used to the stretch of him, your body trembled beneath his massive frame.

“Almost, almost.” His voice hushed and encouraging, he massaged at your sore hips. “Mmm, so good for me.”

He lowered his lips to your clammy skin. Leaving dark red kisses with each incredible thrust. Your dick swelled again as he thumbed the swollen head, spreading your cum down and around your shaft. A handful of thrusts later you were ready to burst again, and König sensed it- pausing for only moment enough to flip you around so that he could smother you with wet kisses.

His hands hooked under your knees, and pressed them up towards your chest so that you were folded and open underneath him.

“Oh! Shit.” You cursed, eyes rolling back into your head. “König,” you cried, nearing your brink too quickly.

“That’s it, Liebling.” He coaxed, slamming his hips as far into your skin as he could dig them. “Again, cum for me again.”

He pumped you in time with him, and his release hit just before your second. The warmth flooded through you too quickly that it seeped down before you came again. Hot and fast and rough between your bodies.

Even as he softened he kept himself lodged deep within you, finally collapsing and pulling you into his side. Kissing over the crown of your head. There were many deep breaths and sighs before he rolled over to pluck tissues from the bedside table, pulling out and wiping the two of you down. He tucked you tight into his arms again as the rain began to pick up again.

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