#might end up going down a cock warming rabbit hole | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theyungihven · 2 years

Text

Oh honey, I'm addicted!

paring : dom! yunho x gen! neutral reader x sub! mingi

word count : 3k+

genre : smut, fantasy

cw/tw : anal fingering, unprotected sex!, cuddling, anal sex, dom and sub, wet dream, use of sex! toys, cock riding

synopsis : a sweet cuddling session turns chaotic when yunho has a wet dream after Y/n messes with him.

A blissful Saturday passes by as the cool wind flows into your living room through the open window while the smell of chocolate and butter fills the surrounding air, or maybe the whole flat smells the same. Your boyfriends make themselves busy in the kitchen with their beginner grade cooking skills while you are hooked onto finishing this one project file, which is due on the Monday morning.

Eventually, you give up having no more energy to go on and lie down on the couch as you curl your up legs and place a hand underneath your head. You soon find yourself falling down the rabbit hole of dreams until a pair of hands lift you up gently in bridal style. They smelled like strawberries, as if they had poured strawberry milk onto themselves. You are then placed onto a mattress which smells like your bed. You open your eyes to a worried Mingi. He has a pink apron tied onto his waist with printed strawberries, as he stands in front of you.

“We’ve told you before not to sleep on the couch.” he huffs, placing his hands on his waist. “You could have sprained your neck again.” His voice is soft, even when he is scolding you. You rather coo at the sight as he worries more about you.

“Sorry” you mumble between your breaths, as the soft blanket pulls you back into the realm of dreams. He leans forward, dipping in the bed a little to place a warm kiss on your forehead, and then switches off the lights, leaving only the bed lamp on. You watch him disappear from the room as your eyes feel heavy and eventually shut.

The ringing of your phone in the other room wakes you up. It is followed by Mingi speaking a bit harshly with the caller. “They are busy right now. You can tell me whatever you want to, or you can call them later.”

You get worried it might be your boss calling as you had saved her number as ‘senior witch’ and true to worries it is indeed your boss when you see the caller’s name after snatching the phone from Mingi. Pushing him aside, you shush him, whispering ‘it’s my boss’ and he gets more worried as every second passes by with Yunho helping him stand still. Still predicting all possible outcomes, you apologise to your boss about Mingi’s rude behaviour.

Surprisingly, she’s very cool with it and reassures you it’s okay and also asks you to bring him to her office once. Her next sentence leaves you out of breath and stunned. She informs you about your business trip to the states this coming Monday and asks you to enjoy it with your Boyfriend, but you correct her, saying it’s two of them. You could sense her smirk through the phone as she says, “double the fun, I guess, then.” your cheeks heat up at her remark as you hurry to say your regards and end the call.

Turning around, you breathe an air of relief and sit on the couch. Mingi approaches you with Yunho tailing behind as they ask what you both went through on the call, and you give them a sweet smile. The twins share a confused expression and a few glances. You pat at the space beside you, and they sit like little kids with hands still intertwined. Devoting you all of their attention, they look at you with starry eyes, thinking you ended up in trouble cuz of them. “Don’t be scared, my love.” Their expressions lighten at the sentence. “ I wasn’t fired, and I'm scared we might have to pack up later.”

“Why?” both of them ask in unison.

“We’re flying to the states for some business. But we can have a little vacay of 1 week.” they both cheer hugging each other than hugging you, as you fall back on the couch because of their weight.

“Let’s get some rest first.” Yunho suggests. You assume they must have been tired from whatever the pair were doing in the kitchen as you worked. Mingi agrees, picking you up again in his arms, then carries you to the bedroom. The other giant giggles, accusing the shortest of just showing off arm strength, and he ends up getting all red. The giants decide on sandwiching you, and honestly you can’t complain as you are bathed in the heavenly scents of strawberry and chocolate.

You subconsciously move towards Yunho, the chocolate emitting off him inviting you to lick him, and you do end up leaving a trail of wet kisses starting from his jaw to his neck, then his collarbones. Your lips move up, kissing his pretty lips as your hands caress his fluffy cheeks. You halt in your actions upon hearing a whine from the other baby. Mingi looks jealous, his silver hair all over the place (maybe he ruffled them in anger) and a pout crowing his pink fluffy lips.

“Aww, my baby wants to be loved too?” he nods at your words, extending his hands and you gladly curl up in them. Mingi pulls you closer and you leave kisses all over his face, making him feel loved too. A hand wraps Mingi from behind you as Yunho moves closer to both. You could feel his hard touch on your back (maybe it’s the aftermath of you being all over him earlier) as his hot breath flutters against your neck, but you ignore it, closing your eyes and waiting for the mattress underneath to swallow you alive.

Waking up a few hours later, you gently untangle yourself from their arms and head to the living room to complete your pending project. In the midst of your work session, you find yourself hungry, so you head to the kitchen to grab a snack, but the faint growls and whimpers catch your attention. You make a U-turn, heading straight to the bedroom, only to witness Yunho rutting up against poor Mingi’s ass. You wait a while for both of them to come back to their senses and Upon sighting you in front of them, the boys curl up in embarrassment. Being worried to death, you rush towards Mingi cupping the boy’s face as he lay there completely astonished from experiencing something so different that, truth to be told, surprisingly turned him on.

You three have an awkward dinner full of sweet delicacies by the giants. There is Swiss roll, chocolate cake, chocolate strawberries and many desserts placed on the dining table like—who even has dinner this sweet? Yunho speaks first, making you and Mingi turn your heads in his direction.

“I’m sorry Mingi. I made you feel uncomfortable. I didn't mean to- it's just y/n made more than excited while she cuddled me.”

“It’s okay Yunho-ya. I didn't feel uncomfortable, to be honest. It- it was something- I didn't expect me to get turned on by you. I mean, I get butterflies whenever I see you look really pretty, but-this- this—it was different.” Mingi gets embarrassed the moment he finishes and stuffs his mouth with marshmallows to hide his growing blush. You both chuckle at his actions.

“I hope you don't mind, but I have to borrow min for a quick shopping session.” At the mention of his name, the boy looks at you in confusion.

“Let’s get some fresh air. It’ll help you.” That was what y/n told the silver haired giant who is now standing in the middle of a sex toy shop. His eyes glance around, amazed every time he spots something out of the ordinary. He walks around the place until he is dragged to one of the counters by Y/n, who asks for a specific object. When the lady behind the counter opens the box, unveiling its content. His eyes go wide at the sight of the vibrator. He nervously glances at Y/n, who intertwined fingers with him, reassuring the boy.

“Don’t worry Mingi. Yunho always knows what he’s doing. He won't hurt you. Also, this will help you get adjusted to his size first.”

“You sure about that?” he asks, worried about himself getting tore about.

“You have to always trust your partner, sir. Or else you’ll never feel pleased.” the salesperson whom Mingi thinks is also the owner explains calmly, and he repeats their words again in his head.

“And please give us a lot of lube. He's quite new to the scene, so we never know.” Y/n earns a slap on their arm cuz of their words, as an embarrassed Min hides behind them, barely covering himself. “Thank you” they finally say and Mingi sighs in relief, dying to exit the shop. “What’s got you so embarrassed?”

“You, Y/n. YOU!” he pouts, stomping on the snow covered ground underneath him as he covers his red face. He sits on the bench under the roadside trees across the shop they just left. It takes him a lot of sweet words and affirmation to forgive Y/n, then they head home with their hands intertwined in the cold.

Upon reaching their floor, the silver haired stops Y/n in their steps and shares a nervous smile. They get on their tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheeks and pull him in their embrace. “It’ll be okay my love. And I’ll be there for you.” Then they head in, Mingi’s hands sweating from the nervousness as he grabs the door handle, hesitating to open it up but thankfully Yuunho saves the day opening in from the inside. He stands in the door, hands resting on his waist as he stares at them.

“Y'all came back quickly.” he says with a questioning look, tilting his face to the side.

“Can you let us in?” “What were you up to?” Mingi and Y/n yell in unison, and Yunho gets taken aback at that.

“Geez- just come in.” he lets them in and Y/n places the shopping bag in his hands, hanging her coat on the hanger. “What’s this?”

“See it yourself.” Yunho snuggles the contents inside, and he finds a bottle of lube with a black gift box. Taking the gift box out outside, he opens it to find a vibrator. He shares the same reaction Mingi gave when the salesperson showed him the contents of the black box, and Y/n can’t help but giggle.

“You really want me to torture him on his first time getting dicked down?” Yunho shares a confused look. $$

“Please, Yunho, don’t make it sound horrible! He's already scared as fuck.”

“Come here, Mingi, don’t hide in the kitchen.” Yunho orders, his cold voice echoing through the flat. The silver hair makes his way to the living room, sitting beside Y/n, who pats his head. “I know you are excited, but I have a condition.” The pair sitting on the couch share glances. “I want you to film the whole thing.” He points at Y/n, who curses under their breath. Fuck! Why did this 6 foot tall dude have an exhibition kink? They regret even getting up from the bed, and sorry for Mingi for having to go through everything.

Y/n starts looking for their tripod which they bought a while ago and finally finds it in one of the drawers beside their bed. Their hands start to shake just at the thought of filming their boyfriends’ intimate time. It is too much of a burden for them. They just hope to not drop their phone while filming cuz then Yunho would be so angry due to the interruption. He wants things to go his way and everything to be under his control. That did sound kinda toxic—moving on…. Yunho waits for Mingi on the bed. He is in the bathroom right now ‘splashing water on my face to get my shit right’.

The moment Mingi exits the bathroom, his face is full of confidence with a smile spread across his lips, but internally he considered the camera pointed on his face being a bit too much especially at this time when he could faint anytime soon. Yunho gets up from the bed and closer to the silver haired, who barely cups the taller’s face, pulling him into a kiss. It is soft at first, with them pecking each other’s lips as if they’re teenagers having their first kiss. But with time, the room is filled with moans and whimpers as Yunho’s tongue explores the shorter’s mouth, who tugs on his blond streaks.

Everyone in the room is surprised when Mingi latches his lips free from Yunho’s and starts placing wet kisses down the said boy’s neck. The silver hair begins from the blond’s jaw, then his Adam’s apple, followed by his neck and sleeping down to his collarbone as the slightly unbuttoned shirt gives him a lot of access to skin. His fingers slipped under his Hyung’s loose shirt, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself whenever he heard a grunt from his Hyung. His sweet moments of control on the taller are shattered when he pushed on the bed, his back hitting the mattress underneath him. Yunho’s dark gaze lands on him and Mingi is far too scared to even get back on his own feet, so he decides to move back near to the headboard, so he can escape from his Hyung who looks like he could eat him alive.

Mingi aren’t alone any more and find company as Yunho peels off his clothing one by one between their kisses while making sure the silver haired doesn’t panic. In just a few minutes, he is left to be naked and vulnerable under his Hyung, who is fully clothed. His nervousness increases when he spots a quite good amount of lube on his Hyung’s fingers, which made me kinda drool. They were long, a bit longer than his, and they are the first ones he is going to feel in himself. His thighs are beginning to cover with Yunho’s large hands, which eventually move up, feeling the skin underneath them and when his cold fingers touch Mingi’s quivering hole, the boy jumps a bit. The older helps him, running his fingers through his silver strands and lays a bunch of little kisses across his face, which eventually calms him down.

“If you don’t feel good, tell me darling. You have nothing to be scared of.” Yunho plants a kiss on Mingi’s forehead, who melts under his hold. He moves away as his fingers slide down to their earlier spot, Mingi’s tight hole which they have yet to spread open. He circles the opening and the silver haired squirms at the foreign feeling. Satisfied with his reaction, the older’s inserts his index finger, at which Mingi grabs his arm, his nails digging into the flesh underneath them. “We’ll get nowhere if you’re like this, min.” Tears brim up in Mingi’s eyes at Yunho words, as he then lays back down, closing his eyes and letting out the breath he has been holding.

Yunho takes his time to work on Mingi with his index finger for a while then asks the younger if he can add another, to which he answers a faint ‘yes’ through his whimpers and wasting no time, the blonde inserts his middle fingers. In no time, Mingi is taking three of the blondes fingers without any whines or protests, but when the older drags his fingers out, he lets out a pornographic whine that even Y/n starts shaking. Poor cameraman- Unfortunately, the stars weren’t in their favour today as the silver haired lets out another explicit moan when Yunho tries stuffing him up with the vibrator they had got earlier. He whimpers out sobs and moans when Yunho turns it on and the tip brushes against every time the older moves it, fucking his hole with the toy.

Truth to be told, Mingi hasn’t been regretting his decision in the past few minutes because he is sure he’ll be addicted to this way of obtaining pleasure and then comes wayy too early.

He is a trembling mess when he comes all over his stomach as he grips the sheets under his fingers. His breath is taken away when the blond aligns his lubed up cock against his sensitive hole. Yunho thrusts slowly, letting Mingi get used to his size as he pushes himself in and watches the younger break apart little by little. He leans in, pulling the silver haired in a passionate kiss as buttons out inside him.

The overwhelming pleasure surfing throughout Mingi's body is too much for him, especially when Yunho cock brushes against his prostate. How could he go soo deep in him? He is devastated as he drools, fingers tangled in his Hyung’s blond hair, on which he tugs onto in desperate times. His Hyung’s thrust roughen, and he picks up speed, hitting his pleasure spot more than he can handle, but before he is able to come for a second time, Yunho pulls out and averts his gaze towards Y/n who quakes in their boots. They are more than surprised when he asks them to ride the boy underneath him.

“Darling, do I need to break you apart too?” they shake their head as they start trembling under his fiery gaze. Placing the tripod on the window sill, and they move forward, stripping themselves naked then sitting on Mingi’s lap, whose face is wet and cheeks moist with tear stains. They place a little kiss on his forehead and lift themselves a little to align his cock against their entrance. The pair gasps as Y/n dripping walls engulf Mingi in one go, at which they receive a pat on the head from Yunho. He watches the pair, helping each other's to come, but he knew Y/n is too soft to make him cry and let Mingi have his 2nd orgasm. Yunho get an idea. He grabs the camera resting on the windowsill and records the pair. “Such needy little things, aren’t you? So eager to get off using each other.”

201 notes · View notes

carryonmywaywardcaptain · 3 years

Text

Talk Dirty to Me

Summary: You and Dean test pickup lines on each other, taking the sexual tension between you to a new level.

WC: 1,610

Warnings: smut-adjacent? Not exactly explicit, but definitely mature content. Dirty pickup lines and thoughts, sexual tension, smidge of sexy touching, playful banter and fluff

A/N: A submission for #AmandasFlirtyDirty30 (using prompts 5, 42, 46, 55, 58, & 60 I think? I lost count!) I was initially trying to squeeze in as many pickup lines as I could (courtesy of Google), and I kind of love that it got away from me. Credit to New Girl and Nick Miller for the last line. Gif by @dancingalone21

"Nice dress, sweetheart.”

You turned to smile at Dean, surprised at the compliment. “Thanks, Dean—”

“Can I talk you out of it? ‘Cause I bet you’d look even better without your clothes on.”

Narrowing your eyes, you shook your head and scoffed.

The two of you had stayed up late one night, falling down a rabbit hole of looking up cheesy pickup lines that soon grew raunchy. It had started out harmless, as most things do. A playful challenge that had become a game of sorts—each of you striving to find a line that would make the other crack. You’d memorized as many as you could, trying to slip them into conversation without warning so you could boast when the other cracked a smile. The game had taken a turn somewhere along the way, and you were slowly losing your mind from the sexual tension emanating between you and Dean.

But you weren’t about to be the first one to crack.

You tilted your head and sauntered toward him, noticing the way his eyes shamelessly raked over your figure and lingered on the sway of your hips. An impish smirk played on his lips as he waited for you to retaliate.

“That shirt looks great on you. As a matter of fact...” You paused, voice soft and sultry as you skimmed your fingers over his broad chest. “So would I.”

“I bet you would. Y’know, if you’re ever feeling down...I’d be happy to feel you up.”

“Well, Dean, I know you’re busy today, but can you add me to your to-do list?”

“You’re in luck, sweetheart. I don’t feel like doing anything today—except you. I’d do you.”

“I might just have to take you up on that. So, is that a mirror in your pants?” You snaked your arms around his waist, slipping your hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Because I can see myself in them.”

“Were you gonna send me an invitation for the party between your legs in the mail, or are you gonna give it to me in person?”

You tossed your head back, bursting into a sudden fit of laughter. “That one was kind of terrible.”

“Yeah, well—if you could read my mind, you’d need a shower and a cigarette. Sometimes things get a little jumbled when, you know...”

“You’re too busy daydreaming about bending me over every piece of furniture in this place?”

“Exactly. It’s like you can read my mind.” His forest green eyes glided to your lips, lingering briefly before he gazed at you from beneath his long lashes. “Now, what’s a nice girl like you doing in a dirty mind like mine?”

“Maybe I’m not as nice as you think. Life is always a little more fun when you’re a little more...naughty.”

His smug attitude softened as he pulled you closer, playfully squeezing your hips with his large hands. He traced his fingertips along the edge of your jaw, gazing at you thoughtfully as his thumb caressed your chin. Each action was gentle and unhurried, conveying a deep sense of adoration.

“Can I borrow a kiss?” he murmured. “I promise I’ll give it back.”

You swallowed thickly, captivated by his gravelly voice. You could just imagine the obscene noises he’d make if the two of you just...gave in. The sincere praises he’d whisper in your ear with each languid roll of his hips, while the weight of his robust frame pinned you to the mattress. The guttural sounds that would surely spill from his lips if you asked him to fuck you against the wall—rough and animalistic. The strangled moans you might hear if you dropped to your knees and sucked his cock like the good girl you desperately wanted to be for him. Not to mention the tantalizing ways he could call out your name...

Husky. Dripping with so much lust, it could make your toes curl before his calloused hands even grazed your skin.

A breathless plea. Soft and rich with devotion. A longing sigh that tickled your skin.

Firm and authoritative. Something that made you crumple to your knees, eager to obey his every command...

Dean curled a finger under your chin, tilting your face up as he raised an eyebrow. “Bowing out already? ‘Cause I was just getting started.”

“Not a chance.” Wracking your brain for another line, you ghosted your fingertips up and down his bicep, noticing the way he shuddered. “You know, I might not go down in history, but I’ll definitely go down on you.”

“In that case, I’ll kiss you in the rain so you get twice as wet.”

Realizing the bar had been raised a notch, you bit your lip and decided to push the conversation a step further. You carded your fingers through his hair, tugging on his locks and massaging his scalp every so often. His eyes fluttered closed and you continued the ministrations a little longer, feeling a twinge of pride at having the brave and mighty Dean Winchester melt beneath your touch.

“Hey, Dean...” He hummed lazily in response. “I have 206 bones in my body. Want to give me another one?”

His eyes snapped open, making the suggestive smile you wore twitch in amusement. His gaze was slightly unfocused, but it grew darker as he considered the idea.

“Well, are you a doctor? ‘Cause I’ve got a bone for you to examine—a big one I might add. Maybe it’s exactly what you’re looking for.”

“Maybe. I was feeling pretty off today, but you turned me on.”

“I’ve got a dirty mind. And, right now, you’re running through it...naked.”

“Running’s not really my style. Are you a trampoline, though? Because I wanna bounce on you.”

His lips parted as he gazed down at you, undoubtedly imagining the same scenario as you. His breath trembled, erratic puffs tickling your skin as he exhaled. You could feel the warmth of his body, your torso now flush with his, not realizing the two of you had continued gravitating toward each other.

Before you could get too caught up in the moment, Dean let out a low whistle. “I gotta be honest, Y/N—I love the sound of that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he rasped. “So, uh...i-is your name Medusa? Because you’re making me rock hard.”

You shivered involuntarily, deeply affected by the gritty edge in his tone. You clenched at his words and pressed your thighs together, unable to mask how much you enjoyed his dirty line. How much it turned you on, pretending you were the reason he was “rock hard.”

Knowing the two of you were dangerously close to crossing the line you’d been flirting with, you squirmed out of his arms and took a step back.

Dean cleared his throat, glancing at his crotch before briefly meeting your eyes again. “I’m officially uncomfortable now. Thank you.”

“I guess that’s a sign I’m winning.”

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

He focused his attention on a nearby chair, trying to appear nonchalant as he shoved a brazen hand down his pants to adjust himself. When his hand reemerged, you licked your lips upon seeing the large bulge in jeans.

“Are you sure about that?” You inched forward, standing toe-to-toe with him as you slowly dragged your hand down his chest and stomach. “Because it looks you’ve got a situation going on. Maybe you should admit I’m right so you can go take care of it.”

“He may have a mind of his own, but my dick and my willpower are two entirely different things. Besides...you’re the one staring. Maybe you should admit I’m winning so you can help me take care of it.”

Although you had expected a cheeky comeback, his words didn’t match his constrained demeanor. There was an air of submission in his tone—like he was secretly leaving it up to you to end all of this. To make the first move and put you both out of your misery.

He was putty in your hands, and both of you knew it.

You leaned into him, briefly nuzzling his neck as you molded your body against his. While holding his gaze, you traced the outline of his erection with your finger and firmly palmed it through his jeans. His knees buckled and he let out a strangled moan, leaning heavily against the wall behind him for support. His lashes fluttered, struggling to stay open as his carnal eyes swept over your face. You couldn’t help but smirk, relishing the way his tongue wet his lips before he captured the bottom one between his teeth. What you wouldn’t give to have his mouth lavish your skin with any act of passion he saw fit…

Warm, needy open-mouthed kisses that could make you arch against him. Gentle, featherlight kisses that would surely give you chills. Sharp, playful nips with his teeth that made you shiver with anticipation, just thinking about how he could mark you. And his tongue—oh, the ways he’d make you come undone with his tongue alone.

“Hey, Dean...” you whispered, leaning forward to suck his earlobe between your teeth. He groaned softly, chest heaving with each ragged breath he took.

“Yeah?”

“Even though you’re not a dentist...I bet you could give me a filling.”

“Fuck,” he breathed. Dean tipped his head back, a faint thud making him flinch when he bumped the wall.

“Oh!” You automatically reached out to rub his head, and began cackling with guilt. “Crap, Dean, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he panted as he hungrily surveyed you with a grin. “This game isn’t gonna end well for either of us...but the whole middle part is gonna be awesome.”

For the TALK 30 TO ME CELEBRATION: @atc74 @alleiradayne

CarryOnCap Crew (Forevers):

@abswritesfandoms @amanda-teaches @cosicas-cuquis @crist1216 @droidyouseek @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @flawless-disaster @janeyboo @jenn0755 @ksgeekgirl @maresmiley @memyselfandmaddox @notyourtypicalrose @randomparanoid @sandlee44 @scarletsoldierrr @shann-the-artist-moon @sheerioasteroidpanda @shynara51 @someday-when-you-leave-me @tatted-trina6 @thisismysecrethappyplace @torntaltos @waywardbaby @waywardrose13 @weebid @whimsicalrobots @wintersoldierbaby @yesfanficsaremylife

Cap’s SPN Crew:

@adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278 @alexwinchester23 @chevyharvelle @deandreamernp @deangirl7695 @deanwanddamons @dean-winchesters-bacon @fandomoniumflurry @pisces-cutie @supernaturalenchanted @superromijn @teelagurl558 @thoughts-and-funnies @waywardnerd67 @x-waywardaf-x

#AmandasFlirtyDirty30 #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean x fem!reader #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean fanfiction #dean fic #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #dirty pickup lines

389 notes · View notes

thedeathdeelers · 3 years

Note

Okay just because I fucking love your writing unmm something about Julie maybe reflecting on how Luke was brought to her, by the universe or her mom etc, and just fucking soulmate fluff. I loved your religion drabble btw!!

thank you so much!!!🥰

sorry for the delay :$ but i hope you like it!! (ps it turned out to be way longer than i anticipated, so, ya)

pps: you can now find this on my AO3 🤗

——

i think i dreamed you into life

It was a Julie & Luke writing session, just like any other. They were sat, hunched over their shared journal on the faded black couch, too absorbed by the words and notes scribbled on the pages in front of them to pay any attention to anything else.

Julie had just had an epiphany, finally finding the right words to lead them into the chorus following the first verse. With a stiff neck and a cramping hand, Julie stretched her arms over her head, sitting up for a second before collapsing back onto the back cushions of the couch. She heaved a large sigh, looking around and only just registering the low setting sun. They had somehow managed to lose track of time, again, spending well over what she assumed was 4 hours working on this one song. She shook her head, a small smile on her lips as she looked back at her writing partner, still fully focused on the journal in his lap.

They were so alike sometimes, it scared her a little. How could they be so perfect for each other when they were never meant to meet? Cross paths? She often found herself wondering about the way they were brought together, the reasons they were in each others’ lives. But then as soon as her mind wandered towards the mysteries of the universe and its guiding powers, she always ended up spiraling - no matter how she looked at it, Luke and her were somehow meant to be. Fated. Star crossed....whatever.

Her train of thought would always start off innocently enough - she was part of a ghost band. She could see ghosts (well three particular ghosts, at least) - the only lifer who could without Caleb’s help (as far as Willie could tell). She had never really been one to believe in the supernatural, but she was now so intrinsically involved, that she frequently wondered whether everything about her life wasn’t just a dream. Maybe after years & years of practice, she had managed to hone in her daydreaming skills to a point that allowed her to create a world that sounded a little too much like she was the protagonist in a movie or a show. This couldn’t actually be real life, could it? Her life?

The couch shifted, Luke reaching over to grab his guitar, testing out a line before placing his guitar back on the ground, and crossing out a whole section. No, she doesn’t think her mind could have ever managed to dream up Luke.

Don’t get her wrong, there were definitely moments where Julie felt just as normal as she used to. She’d forget that the boys were anything other than her lovable, goofy bandmates. Normal teenage boys, messing around and playing music in her mom’s studio. But then she would look up and see bright hazel eyes staring back at her, and she‘d unexpectedly be hit again by the storm of emotions that washed over her the first time she had accidentally walked through Luke. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. She had felt cold, then warm, and then this peculiar feeling of being....whole. Like she had just come home after a long tiring trip. She couldn’t describe it properly even if she tried, but the only thing that came close to summing it up was home.

Julie closed her eyes, trying to recreate the feeling, bringing it back up to the surface.

Her logical side knew soulmates was just a term used to romanticise romance, she knows that, but whenever she remembers that feeling, just like she is now, she wonders whether she had somehow felt his soul in that kitchen - sneaked a peek before latching onto it. These thoughts made it harder to hold onto logic.

Ugh, she was spiralling again. Julie lifted her hands to her face, rubbing furiously at her eyes, trying to dislodge some of the thoughts clouding her mind. She could feel a headache coming on, and that was the last thing she needed right now. She rolled her head back, resting against the old cushions, and looked at the floating chairs on the ceiling.

Her mother. Didn’t her mother always tell her that there was more to the world than meets the eye? That it wasn’t always wise to think only with one’s mind, but to trust your gut, your heart?

It used to be comments like those that led Julie to believe that her mother was more than just her mother. Could Rose have been an angel in disguise all along? Fate, Love, personified? Julie would be lying to herself if she said she had never thought about her mother being the key instigator behind the boys’ presence in her life. She just somehow knew that Rose had handpicked these boys, and sent them to her. Sent Luke to her. She had known that Julie would need divine intervention to pull herself out of her slump, and who better to do that than the one person, the one soul in the universe that perfectly aligned with hers?

Julie rolled her head to the side once more, staring at Luke’s profile, his brows drawn, deep in thought. If he hadn’t died all those years ago, if he hadn’t eaten that unfortunate hotdog, this never would have been possible - they never would have met. Julie shuddered at the thought, her heart and soul aching in protest.

A connection of heart, mind and soul, her mother had told her. “They really do exist, mija” she‘d say, but Julie would only smile and nod, never truly believing that soulmates were real, that they were part of the universe’s grand design. But now-

Oh. Soulmates.

“Did you say something?”

Startled, Julie blinked herself out of her daze, realising too late that she was thinking out loud.

“N- no, no, nothing. Just uh- just thinking of the next verse, you know,” she chuckled awkwardly, avoiding Luke as she tried not to fidget. “Always working!” She pointed to her temple, immediately regretting the movement, cringing at her awful attempt at a cover up.

She could feel Luke’s unwavering gaze, focused on her as he sat up, pushing the journal onto the seat next to him. He shifted, turning towards her, even as she continued to face forward. Her cheeks were definitely getting warmer. Not good.

“Did you-” she saw him tilt his head to the side from the corner of her eye, “did you just say Soulmates?”

A lie was on the tip of her tongue, ready to burst, but as she reflexively slid her eyes to meet his, the words died out before they could be vocalised.

He was looking at her with a peculiar look in his eyes, a slightly awed expression etched on his face.

“I- I was just thinking...” She stuttered, unable to take her eyes off of Luke’s, even as her fingers fiddled with the loose threads of her jumper.

“About?”

“You know,” she lifted her hands, gesturing at the space around them, trying to be as vague as possible. “Life.”

Eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his orange beanie.

“Life? Really?”

“Yes. Life. Just..you know, how things change. Like the way you grow up thinking one thing but then something happens and it completely changes the way you see the world around you, the way your beliefs...shift.” She shrugged, trying and failing to seem nonchalant.

“Hm, deep thoughts for a Saturday afternoon.” He studied her for a second, before cocking his head to the side. “Any reason this led to the conclusion of Soulmates?”

Julie shifted uncomfortably, trying hard not to look away even as she felt her cheeks somehow growing even warmer.

“I...I was just thinking about my mom. And things she used to talk about and believe in with a certainty that always...confused me I guess. How could she believe in something so easily, when she couldn’t even see it? Feel it?” Julie diverted her gaze, choosing to look at her mom’s piano instead. Her voice took on a quieter tone, almost reflective as she continued with her new train of thought. “What if she wanted me to believe again? What if she had somehow found a way to not only get music back into my life, but to believe in love and fate and-“ Julie stopped short, her eyes darting back to Luke - his face was now frozen, showing her nothing of what he might be feeling.

Julie suddenly felt very silly.

“Never mind,” she laughed awkwardly, trying to play it off as just silly musings. “My mind was just wandering, but now I’m back and maybe we should just get back to that second verse...” Her voice trailed off, Luke’s face still giving nothing away.

Crap. She just made it weird - this is what she gets for letting her mind go down the rabbit hole that is the universe and its misguided mysteries. Way to go, Julie.

Just as she was about to jump up and flee to her bedroom, hoping that maybe her floor would do her the courtesy of swallowing her up, Julie felt the couch dip further down to her right, Luke’s knee pressing up against her thigh. Resisting the urge to look at him, her eyes flickered to her fingers, to their journal and then back to her mom’s piano.

“You know,” Luke spoke up, voice soft, almost a whisper, “I never gave fate much thought back when I was alive. I always figured a person forged their own fate by believing hard enough in what they wanted and then working even harder to get there.” He reached over, grabbing hold of her right hand, ceasing the fidgeting motions of her fingers. “Even when it came to my soul, I only ever considered it when thinking about music and the power it had over me and my life. If music was so important, wouldn’t it mean my soul was constantly connected to it? My instrument, an intrinsic part of who I am?”

He went quiet for a few seconds, prompting Julie to turn her head back towards him, as his calloused thumb started rubbing gently against her knuckles. His gaze, which had been glued to her face the entire time, was now locked on their hands.

“So I always figured I was “fated”, I guess you could say, to follow that connection I had with music, and just see where that took me.” His fingers were now tracing little circles on the back of her hand. “But then we died, and became ghosts, and it changed the way I think about things, but at the same, my core beliefs remained the same. I’m still not sure about fate, and the role it plays in how things are dictated in my life, but I know that music is still such a major part of me. Because, I mean, if that wasn’t the case, how could you have possibly pulled me back from the dead and down to earth by playing our song? How could you, a lifer 25 years after I died, have been the one to pull me back, and make me feel alive again?” He shook his head before he continued. “And every time I ask myself these questions I just come back to the same conclusion,” he stops for a second, lifting his eyes back up to hers. “You embody music to me. You, Julie, have always been what my soul was connected to - not my guitar, not just music in general - but you, my own personal musical goddess.” His lips tilted up at the corners at his last words, his eyes boring into hers.

“So yeah, I know what you mean about not necessarily wanting to believe in something unless you can see it or feel it. But at this stage, how could I not believe in soulmates when you’re right here, somehow a part of my life, 25 years after I’ve died?” He shook his head again, his smile getting a little sad. “We technically never should have met, would have never crossed paths, but fate....fate had other plans for us I guess. Our souls just couldn’t bare being separated, and the universe just....found a way to rectify that.”

Julie could do nothing but stare at the beautiful boy in front of her, her mind trying to process the prose he just recited to her. Almost as if by reflex, Julie slowly lifted her hands up, cupping his face and held onto him like he was the most precious thing in the entire world - because he was.

Luke mirrored her actions, his eyes soft, as his fingers traced her cheeks, wiping away tears she didn’t even know were there.

And just as she was about to let loose the words that had been rattling around in her mind ever since he had stumbled into her life, Luke beat her to it.

“I think we might be soulmates, Jules.”

FIN

#ask #jatp #juke #julie and the phantoms #jatp fics #my fics #ask fics #luke patterson #julie molina #luke x julie #julie x luke #thedeathdeelers fics

109 notes · View notes

cherry-flavoured-thot · 3 years

Text

Run rabbit, run

Fandom: Obey Me!

Pairing: wolf!Lucifer x g/n! reader

Genre: smut

Tags: consensual non-consent, knotting, predator/prey aspects, biting/ marking

A/n: I’m so glad i finished writing this, i don’t want it sitting in my drafts anymore

Your lungs were on fire, legs threatening to give out but continuing to carry you forward in the dark, it was difficult to traverse through the dimly lit forest, the moonlight your only guide. Leaves and branches were crushed under your shoes as you ran, but even with your heart pounding in your ears you could hear more of the snapping from a fair distance behind you, indicating he had not given up the chase.

You’ve tried everything to shake off the stalker that remained on your trail, weaving through trees, snaking your way through small paths, going to darker areas so he would lose sight of you, but he was still so close to you despite feeling like you’d been running from him for centuries now. In the dark you feel your foot get caught by a root that was sticking up from the ground, causing you to fall to the ground with a thud.

Panic sets in when you realise that you don’t have the energy to get up, you quickly scan the shadows of your surroundings spotting a bush nearby, with heavy breaths you crawl behind it trying to mask your presence as much as possible. Placing your hands over your mouth, you attempt to steady your breathing, you hear the wolf moving closer by the minute and it makes your heart race.

“Little rabbit where have you ran to?” Hearing his voice sends cold chills across your body, as his footsteps move closer and closer, your heart races faster and faster until the point where he stops right in front of the bush. “I know you’re here, come out and accept your fate.” You sit incredibly still, waiting in terror to see what he does, there’s silence, the sounds of footsteps moving away and then silence again. You wonder if he had left or at least gone far away enough so you could make a run for it.

You were wrong. A clawed hand reaches through the dark latching onto one of your ankles, effortlessly pulling you out from your hiding spot, the action causes you to shriek. You kick your free leg around wildly, attempting to get out of his grip, aiming for anywhere on his body that might hurt, but it doesn’t seem to hurt him much, as he simply uses he free hand to grip onto your other leg and stop your flailing.

“Nowhere left to run, rabbit.” You stare up at him with panicked eyes, desperately continuing with your efforts to escape his grasp but it’s hopeless, you’re trapped and at the mercy of the crimson eyed wolf that was staring down at you, with both amusement from your futile efforts of escape and evident hunger.

“L-let me go,”

“After all that trouble I went in chasing you? I think not.” There’s a pause, a smirk showing itself of his features, demonstrated the sharp teeth hiding as he continues speaking. “At least not until after I claim my prize.”

“C-claim?” He doesn’t say a word, instead in one quick movement letting go of your ankles only to flip you over onto your stomach. He uses his claws to tear away the clothes protecting your bottom half until your sex was exposed to him, you whimper when you feel a finger trace a line down your genitalia. Attempting to squirm away from his grip, only for him to hold you in place with his body.

“I believe I said you had no where left to run.” You don’t get a chance to speak a word, any words you were going to say completely silenced when you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. Then with a growl he attempts to plunge himself inside, but being unable to go all the way inside due to a bulb in his dick. Not that it seems to bother him, as he continues to thrust hoping he can force himself all the way in, completely ignoring any pleas or cries that escaped you as he did so.

Your fingernails dig into the dirt as you grip into the ground for support, eventually any cries or moans you had were muffled by the ground as he grows frustrated by the resistance of your body against his cock, pushes your head down with one hand and uses the other to angle your hips so he can push himself in your hole all the way, letting out a growl when the large base of the knot finally fits inside.

With every movement of his hips your entire body starts to shake, as his thick knot stretches you, matched with a unrelenting pace that forces you to cry into the dirt as an orgasm is ripped from you. The first of many as he drags himself in and out of you, one clawed hand digging into your waist while the other still keeps your head pushed down, only occasionally letting up so you can take in breath between cries. You aren’t sure how long you’ve been trapped beneath him and you weren’t sure when it would end, but when the snapping of his hips goes from a rhythmic thrust to a desperate rut, you realise it will be soon.

A growl escapes him, he moves so he can press his teeth into your shoulder, sinking his teeth into it, forcing his swelling knot as deep inside of you as possible, before finally cumming. But he continues to rut his hips, despite being unable to move ensuring you milk every drop of seed from him. He removes his hands from you, causing you to lie limp beneath him, you just pull your head up to breathe in some air.

Lucifer leans down, pressing a soft kiss on the spot where he placed a bite mark, causing you to let out a small hiss.

“Are you alright, love?” He asks, genuine worry in his tone.

“I’m fine, just sore.”

“I think a warm bath is in order when we get home,” you didn’t have the energy to reply just weakly nodding, hoping the swell doesn’t take to long to go down.

#lucifer #om! lucifer #lucifer om!#obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #obey me #obey me swd #obey me one master to rule them all #om!#smut #my writing tag #g/n reader

185 notes · View notes

whataboutmyfries · 3 years

Text

Russian roulette

Its here its here its finally heeeeree!!!!! I’ve been so excited for this fic for the longest time and I am so so excited to finally share it with you guys!! It’s been quite a while in the making cause I was nervous about my overall ability to keep up with a multi-chapter thing, but here we are!!!

Before you start reading this, I just want you all to know that this fic comes with a LOT of trigger warning. All of them will be in the tags of course, but I just want you guys to know to proceed with caution.

credits as always go to @lumosinlove Haz I have utterly CORRUPTED your characters in this one, I’m so sorry

enjoy!!

Chapter 1

Logan could still remember the day it had happened, the defiant fury in his friend’s eyes as he’d gone down, guns blazing

Logan still remembered it, blood splattering his arms and face, his mouth curved in a deadly smirk as he shoved Logan out of their way, going down, guns blazing, winking at the brunette as he dived into the fray.

Logan still remembered the primal fear that ripped the scream from his chest, his arm numb from the kickback of the M4. He still remembered the screaming darkness that had taken over his head after. He still remembered him.

It was the memory of that night, a job gone wrong that had him working himself to pieces, returning to the sparring ring day after day, week after week. The mere thought of it pulling him from sleep with the sharp edge of nightmares. The what if’s and if only’s shoving his mind into a rabbit hole of unending misery.

Logan huffed in frustration, shoving down the cool rage that threatened to send him over the edge. He closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose, roughly shoving his hair off his forehead. The sweat dripped off his brow as he leaned against the punching bag, flexing his fingers against fabric wrapping his hands.

Even through the wrappings, he could feel the gentle throbbing of the rage and sorrow that had him back at the punching bag day after day after day. He looked down at his knuckles. Shit. That was going to bruise beautifully tomorrow. He sighed, walking over to the backpack on the far end of the room to get his towel and a drink of water.

Logan hefted his pack onto a shoulder, heading over to the sparring area to clean up, unrolling the fabric from his hands as he did so. He examined his knuckles, his hands a tapestry of bruises. He couldn’t remember the last time they hadn’t been a splotchy purple-blue.

The door slammed open, and Logan instinctively ducked to the floor, his hands going for the gun in his backpack, his posture relaxing a little when he saw who’d walked in.

“What the fuck do you want, Nate? He grumbled, tugging his t-shirt to rights, glaring angrily at the floor as he did so, his cheeks warming at his aggressive reaction.

Nate rolled his eyes at Logan’s attitude, raising an eyebrow at Logan’s reaction to his presence. He leaned against the door, drumming his fingers against his bicep “He’s here, sir, the rookie’s here.”

It took Logan all of ten minutes to shower and get dressed to meet Finn in their office. He shook the water out of his hair as his quick steps echoed in the marble hallway. The palatial mansion was HQ. He lived here, slept here, ate here. They were his family, the lions, they’d taken him in after Wyatt had died and had stood by him through every damn thing he’d been through. Regardless, it was home. It had become Logan’s home after— Logan growled, shoving the intrusive thoughts away.

Finn met him halfway to their door, casually tugging the cuffs of his shirt to rights.

Finn was impeccably dressed as always, looking really damn good in that white button-down, the gold chain on his neck dipping into where he’s left it unbuttoned at the neck. His bespoke trousers did wonders for showing off his legs, the gold belt buckle matching the golden rings glinting in the sun.

Logan swallowed.

“So, the rookie’s coming in today. The only thing we know is the father sent him. Be on your guard.” Finn said, raising an eyebrow at Logan to make sure he understood.

Logan nodded, cracking his knuckles as he accompanied Finn into their office, the redhead making a few calls to get extra security detail around the house. Dons couldn’t take risks, no matter who sent their visitors.

Logan shook out his hands, sucking in a calming breath before collapsing onto his chair.

“You have to meet Dubois at the Excelsior tonight. We got a tip he’s been skimming the funds.” Finn said absent-mindedly, his mind more occupied with reading some file. The Excelsior was one of their biggest casinos, three floors of opulent revelry. And Dubois was the sleazy good-for-nothing who ran it for them.

Logan grumbled, flipping open a file of his own, the name Dubois emblazoned in sharp, black letters on the cover. Being a Mob boss wasn’t all it was made out to be, and Logan never thought he’d get used to it. He could scarcely remember how he and Finn had come to build the Lions, one of the biggest crime syndicates in the world, second only to the snakes; a family of vicious, rabid psychopaths who cared for nothing and nobody, dispatching their targets with gruesome efficiency.

Finn had a suspicion the snakes had been doing recon work at the Excelsior and had told Logan as much. Considering that Logan had to deal with the slimy manager, anyway, he thought he might as well look into the matter. Finn looked at him over the gold rim of his glasses, as though reading his thoughts.

“Take Potter with you, ask him to get two of his best with him,” Finn said, referring to their head of security.

Logan huffed, about to shoot back a retort about how he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself thankyouverymuch when there was a knock on the door. Nate leaned against the wood, a smirk playing on his lips.

“He’s here.”

The rookie as it turns out was no rookie at all, rather son to the most infamous pickpocket and street magician of all time, Wyatt Knut. The man had stolen and pickpocketed thousands of dollars’ worth of goods and cash in his time, there was even a rumour going around that he’d been involved in some of the biggest heists of the era, driving his worth up to millions of dollars.

And this was his son. Sitting in front of him, idly flicking a folded sheet of paper between his fingers, making it disappear and then appear again, his leg bouncing under the table. He looked nervous, his eyes flicking around the room, drinking up the opulent mansion around him. He snapped to attention when Finn cleared his throat, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“The name’s Knut, Leo Knut. Lizard sent me.”

Logan’s eyes widened at the nickname. There were very few people in the world who knew it, and this baby faced blond kid sitting in front of them sure as hell didn’t look like someone who would. The fact that he did calmed Logan’s suspicions. This was real. He wasn’t kidding.

Logan felt more than saw Finn’s interest pique. The redhead leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. The tension in the room was palpable, and it took every inch of self-control in Logan’s body to not stiffen, sit up straighter, show he was on his guard. Let blue eyes make the first move. Logan was in charge here, not him.

Leo’s eyes dipped to the folded note in his hand as he vanished it into his sleeve and brought it back. He sucked in a breath, calming his nerves before raising his eyes to the two men sitting before him.

“Lizard said to come to you if he didn’t return or communicate his….being alive within four days of that mission.” Leo braced for the confusion and chaos that was going to follow his next words.

“He had a plan to take down the snakes.”

Logan’s jaw dropped, his hands going slack from where they were crossed across his chest. Lizard had what?!? Granted, he was one of their best reconnaissance men, but this seemed a stretch, even for him.

Finn, ever the diplomat, had kept a straight face, not a hair out of place. It was only through eight years of being his friend that he noticed the tension and suspicion radiating off him.

The redhead cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? And do you have any proof of this…..plan?”

Leo grinned, the simple expression lighting up the entire room.” I thought you’d never ask”

He raised his slender fingers, pulling a flash drive out of thin air, setting it down on the table before him. “It’s in three parts.” he nodded to the drive. “The drive, a……” He waved his hand in the air, trying to find the right words. “Map? With the targets and the blueprints and an encrypted folder on his laptop.”

Logan barely registered what he’d said. The second Leo has flicked the drive out from between his fingers it was game over for him. Logan was mesmerised. He couldn’t stop staring at those hands, long thin fingers flipping the note in and out of sight with hypnotic movements, drumming on his thigh, gesturing broadly as he spoke.

Finn seemed to have noticed, pressing his thigh against Logan’s under the table. He froze at the contact, Finn’s warmth seeping into him through the fabric of his jeans. Shit. Now was not the time. He shook his head, clearing his throat and focusing on the task at hand.

Finn leaned back in his chair, his finger steepling under his chin. “And you’re just trusting us with this information? It’s been a month, why haven’t you approached us sooner? What’s in it for you?”

Leo’s smile disappeared, shadows dancing behind those blue irises. “Lizard was like a second father to me. I’ve known him since I was a kid, he and my dad were friends.” He let out a shaky breath. “And when he didn’t return from that raid….I wanted to get revenge. I wanted to hurt anyone who dared to so much as lay a hand on him.” Leo met Finn’s eyes. “I was...hurt for a long time after his death, couldn’t figure out how to deal with the loss. It’s the reason why I’m only here now. And as for trusting you with the information…” He trailed off, putting a piece of paper on the table.

Logan realised it was the same folded note that had been weaving in and out of Leo’s fingers as he’d spoken to them. The paper was worn, the edge soft in a way only repeated use could make them. Finn’s eyes flicked to Leo before he picked it up, glancing at Logan as he opened it.

Logan leaned in, reading over Finn’s shoulder. In a familiar, stocky script it said:

‘Sun, I’m going out on business. It’s the usual. Same as always, If I don't communicate in 4 days, ask around for Logan Tremblay and Finn O Hara, Tell them about mission troy. They’ll know who I am, say Lizard sent you -P’

Logan’s hands shook, and he stuffed them into his pockets, still reading the note, scouring it over and over for clues, anything that would tell them that he was still alive— though he knew he wasn’t going to find anything. His eyes caught on the first word. ‘Sun’? Logan wracked his mind, trying to find any reason why Lizard has called him that. Realisation struck and Logan looked over Leo, sizing him up.

Leo ‘the Sun’ Knut had was famous for his brilliant smile, those dimples distracting even the most stubborn of men while he swindled them out of their money. Bright as the sun and just as blinding, they said. Logan allowed himself a smirk at that. Like father, like son.

Leo didn’t back down from his stare, raising a blond eyebrow at the intense look, cocking his head to the side. A shiver of excitement ran through Logan, bigger men had backed away from that look of his, yet this lanky child didn’t so much as falter. Interesting.

Finn rested his elbows on the table, ever the portrait of unruffled grace. “How do we know this is real?” He asked, nodding his head at the drive sitting on the table.

Logan could practically see the effort it took Leo to not roll his eyes. The blond shrugged, crossing his arms on the desk. “Believe me, or don’t. It’s your loss. I have my orders and if you aren’t willing to provide the resources, I’m sure I’ll find other people who are.” His gaze sharpened to a flinty glare, “I’m just trying to do right by a friend. He asked me a favour and I will not let him down” He nudged the drive forward with a long finger, the little black device sitting in the middle of the table. “Help me or not, it’s up to you, but don’t you fucking dare get in my way.”

#russian roulette #whataboutmyfries #my writing #lumosinlove #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #Leo knut #mafia!fic #tw:implied death #tw:bruises #tw:mourning

82 notes · View notes

withoneheadlight · 3 years

Note

life has been a bit crazy for me so I haven’t been around but I’m glad to see that the upside down kiss fic is circulating back around bc it lives rent free in my mind constantly and I am whORE KNEE 😩

nsfw! anon

(I hope you’ve seen well I miss u :((( )

NSFW!ANON I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU I MISS YOUUUUUU!!!!! Holy shit this is the nicest surprise!!!!!! 💖💖💖🌟💖🌟💖🌟💖🌟💖 Wish your life were at least a bit less crazy :(. Mine's been a bit crazy too. Weird and busy. Haven't been letting me much time for fandom and i miss it so, SO FUCKING much.

And <3<3<3, haha yep! i’ve got a soft spot for that fic too bc i had so much fun writing it, and it’s even funnier on my mind idk xD. i’m so happy people likes it. Those gifs are like a harringrove inspiration charm i swear! Maybe you’ve already seen it but @warheadache added this amazing ar to it and 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉.

also!! i know it doesn’t look like it but i’ve got a couple things for you on the works and i’m closer to finish them!! at my snail pace but yk,

a few excerpts bc i want to give them to you so baaaaaadddDDDDDD:

(I'm sure you'll recognize the working titles :P)

| n s f w ahead |

| boots |

And it’s been more than three years. More than three years of holes on his body and holes on his veins and stitches and tubes and pills and pain under every scar and unsteady steps and pulling together a pile of dirty rubble. More than one of Steve, Steve, Steve. Of coming back in busts and flickers. Enough gasoline left to light a spark. Too empty still to start a fire.

Except―

He’s going through his old stuff, one day. Cold outside. Late January. Chill fogging the windows. Daylight pouring to the edges of the sky like red-hot steel on the other side.

Billy’s on the floor. The contents of the two plastic bags collecting dust at the bottom of his closet since he moved in here now scattered all around. Cassettes and crumpled papers and tampered books and stupid memorabilia and. His old tight jeans. His leather jackets. His light-blue denim one, with the blood-red goodbye kiss of somebody whose cheek he remembers touching, whose face he can’t remember anymore.

And Billy doesn’t hear him coming, but one moment he’s not, the next Steve’s crouching by his side, leaning against him, too lightly for it to be in need of balance.

“God, Hargrove” he huffs, picks Billy’s favorite shirt out of the pile “Am I remembering this one right?”

Billy bites in a smile. Swallows down some bitterness.

“You are”

Steve nods, mouth twisting into a grin, a brow rising. Glances down at what Billy’s holding (on to) between his hands.

“And oooh. Those boots”

Still dirty. More dark brownish than black. One of the few things he got back from the hospital. His pendant being the only one he ever put back on.

“Yeah”

“Thinking ‘bout using any of these again?” Steve gives the shirt a light shake, the dark-red fabric dragging on the wooden floor.

Last time Billy wore it, he burned hole in it. A stray ember fell from his joint, right under the left pocket. Tiny enough to pass mostly unseen but―

For a closer look, it was ruined.

Two days later, the Mind-Flyer dragged him into the basement of Brimborn Steel Works.

Billy digs his fingers into the dry leather before they can start shaking.

“I don’t―” Takes in a big gulp of air “―know. Don’t know if they’ll fit anymore” It feels like nothing.

Because, he doesn’t mean only his body. Means it all. Because he’s alivealivealive, like some kind of inevitability. Alive like a form of inertia.

Alive because that’s all he had left. Got’s left. The only thing he could. Can. Do.

But,

But

“Uhmm” Steve exhales. Looks right into his eyes and it feels like he’s looking deeper. And it’s not the first time, not the first time Billy wonders, how much he knows, and how he knows it. Wonders what he might be seeing, what his instinct might be saying for him to―lower down his voice, eat away almost every single one of the scarce millimeters keeping their mouths from touching “Maybe the boots, then” his hair tickling Billy as it falls over his forehead, the feeling of it so intimate it seems illicit “Only, the boots”.

And those words. Those words. Taste like gasoline on Billy’s mouth, make the flame almost catch. Hot. As they feel over the rabbiting pulse of his jugular. Ad there shouldn’t be any empty space left between them when Steve moves even closer, his lips brushing a path of raw tenderness over Billy’s cheek, trailing sideways, air turning flammable and unstable, unbreathable when he says, “You’d look―” Voice hoarse. Shaky. Breath warm down the curve of Billy’s neck. Fingertips burning as a branding mark over his solar plexus “Hot as fuck”

Trading a grenade for Billy’s fast-beating heart.

And then― he’s getting up. Going away. Closing the door behind him. Leaving Billy one pull away from the detonation.

And Billy.

It’s been more than year since he moved. More than a year of SteveSteveSteve. Of coming back in busts and flickers. Enough gasoline left to light a spark. Too empty still to start a fire.

But Billy wants it, this kind of inevitability. Not inertia. No survival. Not that something living doesn’t really feels like. He wants Steve to release that bomb he just dropped inside of his body. Left Billy unmade. Shape him back together with his own two hands.

So he gets up. Wired-up and breathless. Anticipation beading on the surface of his skin. Thinks about of all those times alive felt like something reachable. That almost-touch sensation. Static singing on his fingertips: loving arms closing around his ocean-cold skin. The rumbling of the sea caught up on the shell of his ribcage. Max's crazy laugh like a hammer to his bones. The Camaro cooking the soles of his feet, speed making his head spin through a wormhole and out into the infinite. His knuckles cracking against the skin of another, finding bone. The metallic tang of blood flooding down the back of his tongue.

Love and fire and rage and―

He takes all his clothes off. They don’t feel like they fit, either. Socks. Sweats. Hoodie. T-Shirt. Takes a deep breath when the pendant bumps against the naked skin of his chest.

Puts his boots on.

Does the only thing he’s ever known.

“Steve!” he shouts. Pulse spiking up fast. Trying to beat a way out of his body “Can you come back in here?”

Skyrocketing, when Steve shouts back.

“Going!”

And then is the door clicking open. Billy’s lungs freezing in the middle of a breath. Steve’s eyes looking almost black as they catch the shadows. Sun falling down the reality of the other side.

And in a darkness like that, it’s only them what remains. Them, and the way they are looking at each other.

And Billy feels alive. Like falling. Feet slippin’ on the razor’s edge.

"Billy" breathes out Steve. Shoulder perched on the frame. Fingers tightening around the handle "Fuck, Billy I―"

“Yeah?”

Alive. Like a form of gravity when―

Steve comes forward. To him. Careful. Careful. Footsteps creaking on the wooden floor. Lashes falling down as his eyes drift. Swallows. Comes closer and closer still.

And then.

Their chest are brushing and their hands are almost touching and it's not even an inch but Billy has to look up even with his stupid boots on and,

“You said―”

Steve breathes in. Cuts Billy’s breath off his lungs.

Between them, there’s no room for anything that’s not the way they’re not touching.

“I know what I said”

The air, sparks, sizzles, becomes the memory of a thunderstorm and. The tips of Steve’s fingers make his hairs stand on end. High voltage. Spark over the inside of his wrist. The faded blue of his veins. And Billy shivers. Feels like that second of stasis before the rupture. Static calm and then― the ocean breaks.

And then Steve says,

“I wanna see it. That fire in you” and his fingers tickle across the hidden tenderness on the inside Billy’s elbow. Nails grazing their way up to his shoulder, detouring to contour the crest of his clavicle, slide down the trough, spreading as they follow the shape of Billy’s neck, thumb fitting into the corner of his lips and “C’mon.” smiling, smiling. Eyes creasing at the sides, lashes catching the few last strings of light. Wicked and sweet and devastating “Show me who’s that Billy Hargrove everybody's been telling me so much about”

| stick | tw: object insertion |

It’s thrilling, this secret, depraved game they play. Feels like it's forbidden. Leaves a sweet, honey-thick aftertaste.

And Billy is so. So curious. Can’t stop asking Steve to tell him “How it feels babe. I want to know how good it feels. God you look like it's hitting you just right” and Steve tells him. Steve fucks himself down into whatever thing Billy is holding for him, never touching himself until he’s almost there, wanting to ride that sole sensation right up until the very end. Shivering. Shaking. Breaking a sweat. The words coming ragged out of his open mouth. “Cold” or “Weird” or “Like. Too much–ah. Too much” and “Soft, God, Billy so soft” and–

“Why don’t you try it yourself?”

And Billy its so, so curious.

Billy does.

Rails himself for Steve to watch, slicked up with lube and dripping. With a rolling pin. A cucumber. Almost a whole box of wooden colored pencils, stuffed inside his ass one by one. With “ohgodgodgod” the handle of Steve’s fucking nailed bat. Lets Steve holds whatever thing he chooses for him “C’mon, babe. C’mon. Treat it good. Swallow it as deep as you can. Take it like you would take my cock”

And life in Hawkins gets boring after the first, second, fourth, seventh yearly round. Steve takes that office work. Billy gets a permanent spot in the garage. If he gets real lucky, somebody takes him an interesting car from time to time. But sometimes Steve looks at Billy with dark, liquid eyes. Says “Ok enough”. His voice harsh. Rasped. Losing balance at the edge of what he’s able to restrain himself. Sounding as if he’s jealous of those things jamming the insides if Billy’s ass. Takes out Billy’s been writhing around. Fucks him hard. Fuck him deep. Fucks him so good there are tears in Billy’s eyes by the time he comes. Fallen apart and sobbing.

Steve’s driving. One hand on the wheel. One hand on the shift. The cool air of the night coming in shorts through the rolled-down window. On the radio, Ted Nugent’s making his guitar whine, the strings arching into the touch of his fingertips, asking for more more more, ‘Here I come again now baby. Like a dog in heat’

Steve’s long fingers flex over the knob, winter-cold white under reddened knuckles. He shifts from third to fourth with a smooth press and lets go of the clutch, and the Camaro sighs, settles. Steve makes her calm. Steve tames her. Where Billy makes her growl and kick Steve drives her like a lover, whispers to her with all his body I’m gonna fuck you so slow. We got all night, baby. Steve treats her right. Runs those fingers up and down the metallic rod of the shift and Billy gets hard. One second from zero to sixty.

His cock pulses, pulses. Fills up whole. The sudden rush of heat traveling up, up. Presses against the walls of his throat. Billy wants to feel the head of Steve’s cock against his bell. Wants Steve to make him choke on him.

Steve brakes. Clutches. Reduces. The Camaro moans, needy. Steve soothes her, caresses it with a soft brush of his thumb along the speed patter Shh, baby sshhh. Just hold a little bit longer. I promise I will let you come.

Billy feels himself twitch, spit out precum. The inside of his pants feels damp, appetizing. He lets his hips slide, rock.

The knob is real leather. Silver pattern ingrained over black. Seams carefully sew out on the surface as a touch of style.

Billy replaced it a few months ago, the old one too damaged by use. Worn out.

This one curves slightly forward.

It would hit just right.

Steve's eyes are alight, framed in the light reflected from the rearview mirror, a dramatic take out of an old Noir.

Except the brown shines full color. Alive.

Billy puts his hand over Steve’s on the knob, spreads his fingers around his.

Grips him hard.

“Hey, babe. Have you ever thought about it?”

“Mmm? About what?”

“About riding my car”

Steve huffs. Chuckles.

“I am driving your car”

“Yeah” Billy caresses the side of Steve’s hand with his thumb, a lagged reflection of his gesture. Thinks about how pretty Steve’s lips would look around that leather, mouth open wide “Don’t mean it like that”

Billy has to take a deep, shaky breath, thinking it's a miracle they ever get as far as they plan, that Steve Harrington's mere existence doesn't make him come just by looking at him.

Not all their games get to the finish line. But this, God, Billy wants this one to.

"Ah-ah" he shakes his head, smirks, keeps the stakes high "But if you hop on I'll let you eat my mouth"

“Mmmm. I don’t know”

Steve twists his lips, considering, looks like he’s willing to take his sweet time deciding, staying just like this, idly rocking on his lap, keeping Billy hooked in this scarce feeling, this almost kissing between their cocks.

And Billy––Uff. Billy it’s too revved-up, can’t take it any fucking second more.

Grabs Steve’s asscheeks. Lifts him up.

“Billy what the—ohfuck” It doesn't go in. ‘Course it doesn’t. When Billy lets Steve’s weight drop just a slight bit. It bumps. Slips. Wet and obscene. Rips a breathless thing of a sound out of his throat. But then Steve’s arms wrap around his neck. Bracing himself so Billy can take a hold of it, line himself up. And then yeah yeah. He barely has to rub the head against Steve’s slippery hole and his cock slides in. Eaaasy. All the way. Into Steve’s warmth. Tight. Tight. Tight. And–

“Ohfuck. OhfuckOh”

The air coming in from the window is cool, bristling, but it feels like nothing when Steve lets out a chocked cry. Fucks himself. Fast. Rough. Face buried into the crook of Billy’s neck. Breath blooming hot, hot. Teeth on his pulse.

“Shhhh, baby, shhh” Billy takes his face between his hands, pushes him carefully backwards. Waits ‘till Steve’s eyes slowly find focus on his, still rocking, still― “Hey. You gotta stop. You hear me?” Steve takes a deep breath, exhales long and shaky. It takes all of him to slow down, Billy knows, but he does. Thighs twitching. Cock weeping. Smearing over Billy’s belly where his t-shit has hitched up.

Billy brushes his hair back from his forehead. Tangled and damp and gorgeous.

Kisses him light and sweet.

“We’re close, baby. We’re really, really close. But you gotta stop so I can open you up real good ok?”

Steve nods, eyes glossy, lips bitten and Billy feels overwhelmed, feels like burning under the hard sun. They’re both hanging by the thinnest of threads, Billy can feel it, can see it in the blown-out dark of Steve’s eyes. They’re riding pleasure at point break, time holding its breath for them. This is his favorite part of the game. A little too much, just a little too much. ‘Till one of them loses it. ‘Till one of them melts on the other’s hands. Hard and thick.

And God, Billy has never been one not to push his luck.

He takes two fingers up to Steve’s lips, runs the tips over the tender skin inside. Thinks about how they don’t look bitten enough, swollen enough. About how he’s gonna have to fix that.

“I’m gonna put these two inside. Will you get them ready for me?” Steve’s Smile twitches up, canines showing. It’s a two-men-con. But they play as much against the other as they play together. So Steve swallows both fingers. All the way in one go. Eyes falling shut. Eats them wet and messy. Deepthroats. Rumbles. Ass clenching, pulsing around Billy’s cock. And Billy is only a short breath of self-control away from spending himself inside him like a fucking rookie.

It’s boring, small-town life, really. Except–

“Good boy,” he says, making his fingers pop out of Steve’s mouth, satisfaction tastier than honey at the mean glare it grants him. But it softens, that glare, Steve’s eyelids flutter, open-mouthed and blissed, when Billy brushes the head of his cock with his knuckles, haft teasing, half relieving, keeping Steve in the tightrope with him.

“I’m getting a bit impatient in here, Hargrove” he says, only managing to make his voice sound half annoyed about it. Bit Billy is too, impatient. So drags his fingers down, pads tracing the taut shape of Steve’s cock, his balls, and down. Presses. Softly. Rubs the stretched-out flesh of his hole. Dips just the tips. Press. Press. And–

“AhfuckBilly–Ah.Mmmmh”

It’s tight. Steve’s ass clenches around him, squeezes him in. It’s a heady feeling, having him like this, senses overrunning. He’s intoxicated. High on the painful scratch of Steve’s nails when he grabs his jaw to kiss him open-mouthed and harsh. The helpless way he chokes off a sob when Billy makes his fingers curl, rubs him good and,

“I’m ready, Billy. I’m ready. BillyBillyplease. I can’t take it anymore. Please, baby. I’m ready” he’s gasping, breathless, barely taking in the heated up air they share.

“Hey. C’mon. C’mon. Just a little more, ok?. A little more and I’ll let you swallow it all in. That knob. All the way down your ass. No space left for anything else" he licks the words all along Steve’s neck, his ear. Rubs his lips over the damp roots of his hair. Cock pushing. Fingers working. When Steve sits on the stick. Billy wants him right over the edge “Gonna cum so hard you’re gonna be begging me to let you ride her again”

yup! hope you like them! i really really REALLY want to finish them for you.

Fingers crossed I get to see you again soon my dear nsfw!anon 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

#im sending you THE BIGGEST HUG <3<3<3<3<33<#I MISSSSS YOUUUUUUUUUU #your asks never fail to light up my day #take care #and dont let that bad real life grip you too hard #i'll be around if you need me #and my ask box is always open for you #ns*w!anon💖#harringrove #long post #till i can make a cut sorry #the wip tag game!#xwips #xaskfic

42 notes · View notes

nyxdelanuit · 4 years

Text

We All Fall From Heaven

Hello my little constellations! @mammonrights and I are bringing you a fun little treat! We’re collabing on We All Fall From Heaven, a Yandere House of Lamentation series c: That being said, please be aware of the tags, and enjoy! I also will not be adding my usual tag list to this due to the themes involved, so please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters!

WARNINGS: YANDERE THEMES, DUBCON/NONCON, Abusive/Obsessive Relationships, Branding/Marking, Choking and of course, SMUT ABOUND~ Please be sure to mind the tags <3

You belatedly thought you should have been more nervous being an exchange student in the Devildom, but it was hard to be when everyone was so welcoming. It was a little disorienting, suddenly being thrust into a different place with several big, attractive people waiting for you. But Diavolo welcomed you with open arms.

You weren't even the first, apparently there had been a regular human exchange student before you. She had even come back for a second year before finding her happy ending with an angel. Simeon, they called him, and though you thought you saw anger on the faces of your hosts, it was quickly brushed off as they explained what the next year would look like for you.

You were welcomed into their home warmly by all except Mammon. He had huffed off after Lucifer told him your room arrangements weren't up for negotiation, which you hadn't quite understood. You were in awe of your room, comfy and full of lush vegetation. One of the other brothers- Levi, if you remembered correctly- laughed and said he was still hung up on the normie that was here before you. None of the other brothers seemed too concerned about it, so you let the issue drop and focused on enjoying your time here.

The first few weeks passed quickly, especially with all the brothers eager to spend time with you. Asmo was quick to talk you into weekly at-home spa dates, Beel took you out to all of his favorite restaurants, Mammon eventually warmed up to you and roped you into his schemes- which rarely worked but were too fun to turn down, Levi was quick to drag you down the rabbit holes of Devildom anime and games, Satan offered a quiet space for reading and someone to study with, and Lucifer… while he was more aloof than the other brothers, he still took time out of his schedule to enjoy downtime with you. There was one, though, that was glued to your side from day one.

Belphie. He hung off your arm everywhere you went, and if it was anyone else, you'd be concerned at how easily he convinced you to start taking naps with him. But he was the Avatar of Sloth, and he curled up next to you so sweetly, who wouldn't want to lay next to him after seeing him sleep so peacefully? He always made sure you had pleasant dreams and woke up feeling rested. So you let him hang off you as you walked the halls of RAD and the house, and you weren't even surprised when you awoke to Belphie cuddled up to your side in your bed. He had told you he slept better when he was next to someone anyways.

It was one of the few times that you weren't used to prop Belphie up as you walked home from RAD. He had gone home early to nap, but the other brothers were called to an emergency student council meeting. You were sent home with the instruction to wake Belphie and send him to the meeting, and you were a bit uneasy with the idea of waking Belphie on your own. You had heard the stories…

You found him in the attic, one of the nap spots he had shown you after you had grown close. It was probably the third or fourth place you had checked, and all the stairs paired with the long day had made you a bit tired. Seeing Belphie all curled up on the bed made you want to lay next to him, but Lucifer’s wrath was more pressing.

“Belphie-boo, you gotta get up.” You crawled up next to him and shook his shoulder lightly. He wasn’t even stirring from his sleep, so you took the chance to run your fingers through his hair. He always liked that when he was awake, so maybe he would wake in a better mood this way. His hair was silky under your touch, and you noticed one bleary eye open to you. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Lucifer sent me to tell you there’s a student council meeting you need to get to.” This seemed to wake him up. You weren’t sure why, as you had seen him sleep through the meetings multiple times.

"So, you're saying you came home by yourself?" Belphie sat up and clutched at the hand that was in his hair. You nodded, a bit nervous at the glint in his eyes. Your nerves only worsened as he began chuckling, pushing you down to the plush of the mattress. "You silly human, coming home all alone to wake a demon." He crawled over you as he spoke, caging you in.

"The last one left us for an angel. We used to be angels, too, you know? But we weren't good enough for her to stay. You won't leave us, though, will you?" You froze, uncertain of how to respond. You loved it here, you really did, but you had family to return to.

“I won’t let you anyways. Especially now that I’ve got you alone.” His hand played with the tie of your uniform, slowly pulling it undone. The buttons unhooked under his deft fingers, revealing your bare collarbone to him. “I messed up bad with the last one. I was locked in here for so long, and I didn’t have long enough to convince them to stay. I won’t make the same mistake twice.” His head dipped to your neck, laying a delicate kiss to the sensitive skin.

“Belphie, I-” Your hands tried to push at his chest, but he easily caught them in his hands, transferring the one wrist to the other hand, pinning you to the bed.

"Don't be so coy now, you've let me into your bed so easily up til now. What's going a little bit further?" You could feel his grin on your shoulder as he chuckled. The warmth of his breath on your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you tried to fight the heat collecting in your stomach. "I've seen the way you look at all of us. Just stay with me and Beel, we'll treat you like a princess. Most of the time, at least." His free hand took to your shirt again, unbuttoning faster than you thought the Avatar of Sloth could move. You struggled in earnest when you were exposed to his gaze, dark and wanting. Part of you knew, knew that he was right and that you had no hope of fighting against a demon.

With one hand, Belphie had stripped you of all clothes save for your underwear. His fingers traced the pattern of your bra absentmindedly as he leaned back to look at you. "You look so cute like this, shaking underneath me." Before you could retort, his mouth was on yours. His kiss was lazy, more aligned with the Belphie you knew instead of the demon atop you. You were so comforted by this that you hadn't fought him when his tongue softly traced the seam of your lips, exploring your taste like ambrosia.

While you were distracted by his leisurely kissing, his hands roamed your body, sneaking under the hem of your panties. You couldn’t help the pathetic whine as he carefully ran a finger through your slick. “Who are you fighting, little human? Everyone but you seems to know you want this. Even your body knows. Just give in.” It was hard to refute him when his fingers started plunging into you at an unforgiving pace. His hands seemed to be working at a different wavelength, as his sleepy kisses were still being peppered over your neck and face.

Tears pricked at your eyes, your head unable to reconcile the Belphie you knew with the one currently pistoning his fingers in and out of your heat. You barely even struggled as Belphie ripped your bra from your chest, your panties following soon after. "You know what's funny? We all had pacts with her, and she still left. You won't, though, I won't let you leave. You'll learn to love me. Then we can live together: you, me, and Beel." Energy seemed to course through him as he rushed out of his clothes. The most you could do was rise on shaking arms while he undressed, but the tell-tale sound of Belphie morphing into his demon form told you that you'd never even reach the door.

"You belong to me now." He loomed over your body, bare chest pressed to your back as your shuddering arms threatened to collapse underneath you. A gasp passed through your lips as his dick slid through your dripping slit and pressed in without warning. The breath was pushed from your lungs as he thrust in, your arms finally giving out as you landed face-first in the tangle of blankets. Belphie only pushed you down further, spreading your legs out to allow him to thrust deeper into your heat. You scrambled to get breath into your lungs before he bucked into you again, all the air leaving you with a keening cry.

"You're so cute when you struggle, you know that, right?" He cooed above you, dragging a hand through your hair much too gently for how he ravaged you. His head dropped to the back of your neck as he sped up, and you were vaguely grateful that he at least made sure you were prepped beforehand. Your hands tugged at the blanket, bunching it under your hips and unwillingly propping yourself up to meet his thrusts. With the angle you had inadvertently placed yourself at, Belphie's cock was relentlessly dragging at your sweet spot. He lifted his head to lick a line up the curve of your shoulder. "You sound so sweet, screaming for me, little human. Better than any lullaby. I promise you'll love me. The last human may have gotten my pact, but you're going to be special. You're going to get my mark." His hand drifted from the painful grip on your hips to delicately wrap around your throat. "Should I put it here? My brothers might get jealous if they see it." His manic giggle reverberated through your skin as he pressed his lips to your shoulder. His pace was relentless, desperate as he whined against you. You let out a choked sob at the thought of his brothers seeing his mark on you, which only seemed to rile Belphie up. "No, I want it to be somewhere secret. Just for you and me. And Beel, I can share when I want to." His hand slowly trailed down your body, absentmindedly groping at your breast before following the curve of your hip down.

His fingers dipped to your swelling cunt, swiping over your clit a few times until you started squirming against his hold. "Such a good little human, such a good little pet." He cooed in your ear, the loving tone in his voice a chilling contrast from the snap of his hips against your ass. His hand finally ceased their journey on the top of your thigh. "I'm going to lay my head on your lap every night and know that my mark is right there." The glee in his voice sent a chill through your veins before fire flooded your body. His hand burned against your thigh, a pure red hot agony. You clenched against his length, pulling a lewd moan from him. "Oh, such a good girl, take it. Take my mark, take everything. You're never leaving me now."

You were so thankful that the pain receded that you didn’t fight the crest of pleasure you rode on after. Belphie groaned, his sweaty forehead braced against your back as he flooded your pussy with his essence. His cum stained your insides, dripping down past where you were joined.

Belphie fell back onto the bed, an exhausted sigh filling the air. He pulled you to lay next to him, and you sought the solace of his familiar touch. You hid your face in his shoulder as he spoke soft affirmations in your hair.

"Hush, the worst part is over. You're mine now, and me and Beel will take such good care of you." The kiss on your crown was too soft, too loving, too much like the Belphie you thought you knew. His hands drew shapes against your bare back, and you hated that it calmed you down. You should be running, you should be looking for one of his brothers to help. But Belphie had been your closest friend here… Who's to say their reaction would be any better.

Belphie gently extracted you from his hold before gathering his clothes and slipping back into them without a care in the world. “I have to go to this meeting before Lucifer punishes us both.” Even after all Belphie had done, the threat of Lucifer’s punishment still made you scared. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He moved to hold you to his chest, laying a soft kiss to your lips, like a lover would.

As Belphie’s hand traced the delicate lines of the sigil inked into your thigh, you finally realized. For the first time, you truly understood you were surrounded by demons. You hadn’t known what you were signed up for.

340 notes · View notes

wolfcha1k · 3 years

Text

Fear Has No Sense, a Fanfic

"What if they're not what I expected?" Ratchet asked her, propping his fist on his chin, contemplating the question once again.

Rivet leaned back on her palms before casting him a little look. "Well, was I what you expected?"

Ratchet has some unfinished questions he needs to get off his chest, who better to understand than his other half of the rift?

Author's Note: Important note, only thing I know about this series is Rift Apart, so kept my horizons very small for this story. Just was a little plot bunny that was nagging me, so I spewed it out. I'm hoping its not too sappy or ends too abruptly, stuff like that, as well as the whole "plz sound like you guys are in character" thing. Lemme know what you think, I love feedback.

She found him sitting on top of his ship outside a good distance away, seeming lost in thought. There was a celebration to be had, it wasn't everyday you saved two worlds and many more in what felt like a few short days. It'd been suspicious when Ratchet had wandered off, passed the fan fair and practically evaporated from the scene. She thought him to be a guy who loved a good party.

If you had asked Rivet she would have thought he'd used that Dimensionator to scurry off somewhere.

But thankfully he hadn't, she was rather done with dimension chasing for a while. Now she just wanted to relax and digest the peace she never thought she could have ever lived to see. It'd cost her an arm quite literally but within her bones she knew she would sacrifice it again to know the world was safe.

She put a hand on her hip, hesitant on interrupting what seemed to be a private moment. Music played muffled behind them from the celebration being had, far too peppy for the mood he seemed to be in. He didn't look sad persay, merely deep and lost in his thoughts, whatever they might be they were clearly making him chase his own tail in circles.

Taking a courageous breath, she took the plunge into the metaphorical rip tide. "Hey!"

His orange head turned to look at her, slowly blinking at her once the surprise wore off. "Oh, uh, hey." The moonlight made Rivet's fur burn silver.

"Yeah, uh, hi." Smooth, she told herself with a strained grin, waving a hand as she gestured at the space next to him. "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure, knock yourself out," Ratchet replied, shuffling away to make room. Rivet began to climb up, jumping onto the ship to sit down beside him.

Neither said anything, just exchanged a quick smile before glancing away to look at something else. She sometimes wondered how they could both have seamless and awkward conversations all at once. It wasn't like either of them were shy people, so what was it? They were pretty familiar with each other now too, unlike back at their first face to face introduction at Zurkie’s.

Instead of lingering on the nagging thought and joining Ratchet in his wandering mind, she spoke. "Nice night, huh?"

"Yeah, it's great to look at the stars and not see time and space tearing apart for once," he mused, jokingly as he recalled their adventure.

"Yeah, it's a major bummer when the dimensions collapsing on themselves ruins a good full moon," she joked back, smiling.

"Ugh, tell me about it." He shuffled his weight to get more comfortable, drawing his knee up. "I'm not complaining about retirement again anytime soon. Meeting you and Kit was a nice compensation though."

"Are you saying that because you like my company or because I'm another Lombax?" She copied his casual posture a moment, tipping her head to the side coyly.

"Uh… both?" He scratched the fur at his neck absently, shrugging a shoulder. "I don't know, I think I'd still like you even if you were a three eyed frog."

She gave him a look, amused. "You would make for an odd three eyed frog since we gotta match and all, so good thing you and me are Lombaxes."

"Yeah, yeah," he scoffed, large ears flat as he suppressed a snort. "Either way… it's nice not being, yanno, alone."

"Alone is something I know all too well," she told him with empathy highlighting her face and words. Of course, her loneliness had been different from what she imagined his to be like. He gave her a sympathetic look, the starlight reflecting in his gaze. "I never thought I'd actually meet someone like me… uh you?” She made something of a comical face. “It’s a bit over–”

“It's a bit overwhelming, huh?” Ratchet grinned at her when he realized they’d jinxed each other yet again. He suppressed a chuckle best he could but it was all for naught. “I think I owe you a lot of sodas at this point, sorry.”

“I could use the sugar so I’ll take you up on that offer, it's fine,” she joked, rolling her eyes with a huff. “Anyway, It’s been an adjustment period, yeah,” she replied with a sheepish look, grasping her palms together to distract herself. “My first impression wasn’t the most brilliant.”

“At least you knew how to say hi at all,” he teased her. “I didn’t peg you as the shy type.”

“Hey, neither did you!” She started in a firmer tone before it broke off into a more trickling voice. ”I don’t think I would have been able to break the ice if I didn’t have Clank,” she admitted, lifting her palm to scrub it down the back of her neck, embarrassed.

Ratchet still looked at her with a mixture of amusement and fondness. “Am I really that scary?”

“Depends how you define scary,” Rivet replied, giving him something of a knowing look that suddenly made him uncomfortable. She decided now was as good a moment as any, curious of just why he was out here. “So… uh, I’m not the best at this but…”

He sighed, already knowing what was coming when his smile came back in a more somber fashion. “My head won’t shut up,” Ratchet told her, not bothering to deny anything.

“Well, there is a really smart mouth attached to it.”

“Har, har, har, you’re funny,” he quipped, nudging her with a childish huff and pout. “I know I promised our pit stop but–”

“Is this about the other Lombaxes?” She was never one to beat around the bush, always direct, somethings ruthlessly so. Her words weren’t spoken harshly though, a gentle inflection to the question.

“Ah, sorta?” Rivet arched a brow at him in a telltale manner that made him doubletake his answer, backpedaling. “Okay, maybe a lot sorta.”

“You wanna elaborate?” She encouraged him, cocking her head with a curious blink of her intelligent eyes.

There was a pause, Ratchet taking the moment to figure out what he wanted to say. Rivet was patient, shifting between focusing on the intense frown of his brows to the matching frown on his lips. He eventually took in a breath and faced her.

“What if they’re not what I expected?” He asked her, propping his fist on his chin, contemplating the question once again. His eyes looked at the starry expanse of sky, endlessly stretching farther than the mind could imagine.

She leaned back on the back of her palms before casting him a little look. “Well, was I what you expected?” The words were laced in good humor and she grinned once she saw his startled face.

He wasn’t expecting that, big eyes round as an owl before he gave a grin of his own. Rivet was relieved to see it there, melancholy didn’t do justice to his face. “No, actually, you weren’t.” The words were honest but hardly negative, some warmth tingling them.

“I’ll assume that’s a compliment,” she teased him, her robotic hand making contact with his arm in a playful punch of camaraderie. She was sitting up again, elbows on her knees as she continued to speak. “And before you ask…”

“Ask what?” He rubbed at the spot where she’d socked him, wondering if she had any idea how much strength she really had in that cyborg hand and arm of hers. She must be a champion arm wrestler. “I think you’re pretty solid too. Those other Lombax would be dumb to not see it,” Rivet assured him and this time it was him who bumped shoulders with her.

It was only the pressure against her shoulder she felt from the nerve endings pressed into the machine, she’d lost the ability to feel much else since losing that arm despite his warm arm brushing against her. It was strange but she was used to strange. She almost had a phantom sensation of his touch.

“Thanks,” he chuckled before arching a brow playfully. “Are you reading minds now too?”

“If I’m you and you’re me, it’s a pretty obvious conclusion, right?” She challenged him, ears pricked forward.

“Man, that still makes my head hurt,” he exclaimed, pushing a palm against his forehead with a chuckle.

He wondered if there was more to that besides being shadows of one another, recalling Mags' diary entries of how other Lombaxes had been cast out into different pockets of time and space. To say the least, his mind wasn't ready in the slightest to start going down that rabbit hole just yet. There would be plenty of down time now to do so later, the excitement of peril was done.

They filled the silence that followed with what felt like calm and peace a good friend brought, content in the lull of the conversation; it didn’t feel suffocating or awkward.

Ratchet broke the quiet moment, his voice musing. “Yanno… for someone who’s been a real lone wolf, you sure know how to talk to people.”

“Hey, lone wolf doesn’t equal socially degenerate,” she quipped, shaking her head with a smile at him lifting a hand in mock defense. “Besides, I honestly get how you feel about… the whole scared of the Lombax thing.” She let her face become serious, brows furrowed as she rubbed her hands together. Ratchet could hear the purr in the motors of her robotic arm as it moved. “It wasn’t fair I threw that in your face back at Zurkie’s–”

Automatically he interrupted her, shaking his head and catching her gaze. “No, it’s alright. It wasn’t right of me to call you a coward either when you had your own fears.”

“Yeah but fear does nobody any good when it hurts people,” she told him, lifting her eyes to glance at her arm, seeing her reflection on the golden sleek metal. She turned back to him not long after, somehow feeling a sense of peace wash over her despite some of the jitters. “Guess fear just doesn’t make no sense sometimes, huh?” They shared a look, a somber smile on each other's faces.

“Yeah,” he agreed, sighing with something that almost sounded like a chuckle.

She took a moment to find what she should say next, knowing the conversation wasn’t going to end right there. A good friend did what she could to support each other, not snuff out their insecurities and ignore their needs. Her thoughts absently flew to Kit and Rivet didn’t want to make that mistake again. “Meeting you was honestly one of the most intimidating things I ever did, I can’t imagine adding to it an entire race of who knows how many more of us out there,” she confessed at last. "Fighting Emperor Nefarious was a cakewalk compared to that."

He studied her curiously, a bit surprised. Considering their argument prior to the conclusion of this whole mess, he hadn’t really expected her to have her own qualms about finding their kin. “You worry about what they might think of you too?”

“I mean, maybe a little,” Rivet started, trying to sound casual, being vulnerable wasn’t her strong suit but she was going to try her hardest. Breathing a sigh, she found her words again that were heavy on her tongue, relaxing the tension that had suddenly found itself coiled down her spine. “Well, I don’t anymore, least not like I did before we met,” she replied, meeting his eyes, mischief twinkling like a star. “You like me well enough, right?”

“You seriously need to ask me that?” He rested his elbow on his knee that was curled up close to his chest, the other leg comfortably laying under his relaxed slouch.

“That answers that,” Rivet said, sighing extravagantly in good humor before taking on a more serious tone. “Anyway, if one Lombax thinks I’m good enough, then that must mean others will think of me that way too. If not, well, then I got just the one and your approval is plenty for me.”

He smiled at her. “You think that highly of me? I’m touched.”

“Yeah, I do, and I’m not saying that because you’re the only other Lombax I know,” she told him, returning his smile with one of her own.

Ratchet seemed to consider his words, quiet for only a moment before he said anything. “Hey, Rivet?”

“Yeah, Ratchet?” “Thanks, for tonight, I mean. It helps,” he told her, appreciative as he met her eyes. “Kit and me dished some talk but guess I hadn’t gotten it all out, too much mayhem at the time.”

“It’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right,” Ratchet said, nodding his head.

They fell into a short silence, just looking at each other before Rivet decided to speak. "So… think you're finally ready for that little pit stop soon you promised me?" She arched a brow at him, a challenge he met with a toothy smirk teetering on a grin.

"I've been ready." He reached a hand out to her, bicep raised as Rivet met him halfway, robotic palm pressed into the glove of his as they met in a firm clap.

She squeezed his hand, mindful to not crush it with their arms pressed together from the grip. "That's what I like to hear."

"Good, because you'll be hearing a lot more from where that's coming, Rivet."

#ratchet & clank #ratchet and clank #ratchet and clank rift apart #my writing #my fanfiction

14 notes · View notes

babybatscreationsv2 · 3 years

Text

Worthy

Marvel | Thorki

Loki is traumatized after being sexually assaulted by several guards. Taking his brother to bed won't fix him, but with Thor's gentle hand he might begin to heal.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: r*pe aftermath, hurt/comfort, murder mention

It's dark. Not the room itself, but rather the energy and the fact that he squeezes his eyes shut. He can't acknowledge what's happening- no, what happened. It's over now. It's over. He tries to shove it away. Instead he remembers.

Laughter.

Strange hands slide over his body. Mouths that feel too hot and too wet press against his skin. Thick, rough, fingers force their way in. Into his mouth, his ass. Then... other things. Not fingers. Not that, please.

There's only three of them and they're only common guards. He should be able to fight them. To kill them. So why is he frozen? Why is he a rabbit laying prone while the wolves tear into his belly?

It's disgusting. It's mortifying. It hurts. And then, there's lightening. The air fills with the scent of ozone and burning flesh. Loki's eyes are still squeezed shut, but he can see the light through his eyelids and he hears their screams. He rolls over and vomits and when be begins to fall, thick arms catch him.

"I have you, brother," Thor says gently, with all of the kindness and care that he doesn't deserve.

He remembers Thor carrying him back to his own chambers and laying him in his own bed as if he wouldn't dirty the sheets. He drew him a hot bath and helped him into it, then he sat and looked politely away while Loki scrubbed layers of his skin away until it was irritated and red. When he began to scream and wail, Thor joined him in the bath, fully clothed and held him against his strong chest.

Now today, almost a week later, Loki was just starting to feel in control again. He wasn't sure why, but Thor had allowed him to move, temporarily, into his chambers. He swore everyday that he wouldn’t stay long, that he wouldn’t be an inconvenience, but Thor always waved his hand and assured him he could stay as long as he liked. How he must have pitied him.

Regardless of what Thor must have felt, Loki felt safer with him nearby. Thor was all of the strength that he lacked.

"Brother," he greeted, returning to his chambers after a long day.

"Good evening," Loki answered. Thor came to stand beside him at the window.

"Feel like joining us for dinner this evening?" Thor said. He wasn't his usual self with Loki anymore. He didn't tease or play, but neither did Loki. He was sure Thor merely tolerated him now.

"I can't."

Thor put a hand on his shoulder, sighing. Then he quickly took it away. "You must face your fears, Loki. No one will hurt you now, I swear it. They are dead, their corpses a warning to any who would dare-"

"Just stop it, alright." Loki turned away from his brother. He looked at the bed where he had lain and cried until morning in Thor's arms.

"Stop what?"

"Stop pretending as if it matters. I know what I am."

"What you are is a prince, a god, my brother. You can't stay locked away forever."

"I see." Loki turned his head down to look at his feet. "I shall return to my chambers then."

He started to walk away, but Thor caught his arm. "I don't mean that you should leave. What I want is for you to feel safe. I don't know how to help you, brother."

"Can you make it go away?" It started harsh, but his voice turned to pleading.

"What would it take?"

Loki shook his head, staring off at a far wall. Blurry memories of suffering filled his mind, but most prominent was the feeling. The unwanted touches.

"Something good to wash away the filth," he whispered. He could hardly speak of it out loud. He was covered in filth, inside and out.

"You need a better memory to chase away the shadows," he said, as if he understood. As if knew what it meant to be filthy, to hate oneself. Loki looked at his face, his soft eyes, his hard set jaw, and he could let himself believe it. He stepped up onto his toes and brushed their lips together. It was like kissing lightening. He felt it's warmth and power crackle through him, standing his hair on end. He remembered the light that drove away his assailants. He wanted to consume it.

Strong hands wrapped so softly around his waist and drew him closer. Thor's lips moved against his own so sweetly, as if they were lovers, as if Loki were loved. A tiny sob escaped him and he stepped back. Thor's hands were slow to leave him.

"I'm sorry. You're not obligated to indulge me." He turned away, but again Thor caught his arm. This time he pulled Loki in so that his leaner form was pressed against his bulk.

"It may be my duty to protect you, but if this will help you heal then I want nothing more than to give you everything you desire."

Loki stared into those too big, puppy dog, eyes. "Why?" he asked. He didn't believe him. Why should he want to help him at all?

"I love you, Loki."

There was electricity again and they weren't even kissing. He was warmth and light and power. And he loved Loki. Somehow. He didn't know what to say to him, so instead he kissed him again. Thor pulled him close, but it wasn't enough. He wanted Thor's hands on his skin, washing away the stains, the scars. He didn't know how he could possibly love him, but his love was cleansing to his soul.

He stepped watching, watching Thor's face. He waited to see his disgust as he began stripping away his clothes, but as Thor looked at his naked body, his eyes darkened his cheeks pinked. He wasn't disgusted and he didn't turn away. When Loki returned to his reach he caught him in his arms and quickly pulled him into another kiss.

Loki slipped from his hold. His hand caught Thor's arm. He walked backward to the bed and laid himself down on it.

"If you wish to help," he said. "Then indulge me, brother."

Thor seemed rooted to the spot for a moment, though his eyes traveled down the length of his body. Loki warmed at the idea that he might be wanted. That he might still be beautiful. He watched as he finally began to pull off his clothes. He admired the cut of muscle that had barely been hidden with those clothes still on. Then he crawled onto the bed, hovering over him.

Loki slid his hands up Thor's arms to rest on his biceps. Thor bent his head and kissed him softly. Loki tried to pull him in, to kiss his deeper, more frantically, more forcefully, but Thor refused to follow and he gave up the fight. His tender kisses threatened to bring tears to his eyes once more.

"Is this alright?"

Loki looked up at him, familiar and safe. "More than alright."

Kisses along his neck had him melting into the bed. His fingers traced the lines of muscle on Thor's back. His knees hugged his lover's hips. His was body warm, tingling where they connected. Loki let his hands wander a bit more, finding some control in the touching. Thor was solid all over. Even between his legs where Loki curled his fingers around his hard cock.

Thor gasped, then moaned into his neck. He slowly rocked his hips, letting Loki stroke him. He found his own pleasure in the soft sounds he made.

There was long while of touches and kisses. Thor never moved to take things further nor to speed things up. There was no urgency. Loki loved it and hated and he wanted more.

"I want," he started, whispering for the moment was so tender. "I want you inside me."

"Are you sure?" Thor stopped his sweet kisses to look him in the eye. His face was flushed.

"Course I'm sure."

"We don't have to do anything more than this if you do not want to."

Loki wrinkled his nose. "I don't need condescension."

"I mean it. I can stay like this all night or we can stop right now. I want you to be comfortable."

"You don't have to baby me."

Thor said nothing else. He merely reached over to find something and came back with a vial of lubricant. Fear struck him, but it passed as he looked again at Thor's face and remembered that he was safe. Regardless of why Thor might lay with him, he would not hurt him.

He expected to feel slick fingers or even his cock at his entrance, but when he looked down his body, Thor set the vial aside. He slid down the bed until his chest was to the mattress and his face between his legs. A playful smile appeared on his lips. Then Loki's toes were curling at the hot press of his mouth against the inside of his thighs. Thor's tongue found his hole and it was enough that he could have screamed.

His nails dug into the sheets and his legs spread wide. He laid quietly panting his brother's name like a prayer. A slick finger followed his tongue. Then another. Then he hovered again above him, hand between them to guide his cock inside as he kissed him breathless.

"Are you alright?" he asked again. Loki huffed in frustration. What did he want from him? Why did he go to so much trouble? He could say that he loved him, but how could he?

"Loki?"

Loki bit his lip and turned his head away. Teeth digging into the pillow of his lip, a sob became a pathetic whine. "Why are you... like this?"

He heard Thor huff in that way he did as he smiled. "I love you, Loki." His hand brushed his hair away from his face.

"You are beautiful." He kissed his cheek.

"Clever." He kissed his jaw.

"Powerful." He kissed his neck. Loki gasped, pleasure ringing through him.

"How can you say that?" Tears stung his eyes.

"Because I see you. The only flaw in you is that you do not see what you are."

"I am weak. I couldn't even fight off common guards. Those who should be beneath me. I laid there like a slut and let them abuse me."

"Hush." His fingers ran through his hair. "You were afraid. Everyone is afraid sometimes. It turns the blood to ice. There is nothing wrong with you and everything wrong with those who would harm you."

"I should have killed them. I wish I had."

"I killed them. And I will do the same to anyone that would harm you. You are capable on your own, but if fear again freezes your heart then I will step in and destroy your enemies."

"You can't always be there."

"Let me give you something." Thor moved to sit between Loki's legs. His eyes began to glow white. He raised his hand and lightening flashed. Loki closed his eyes against the light. It faded, but did not leave. When he looked, Thor held a bolt of lightening in his fist. With two hands he compacted it into a smaller form, creating a ring of crackling light.

"Give me your hand."

Speechless, Loki raised his arm. Thor took it and wrapped the lightening around his wrist. It covered his skin from the wrist, almost to his elbow. The lightening hardened into metal and when Thor ran his fingers over it, it glowed with all the light held inside of it.

"If you're ever in trouble, call out to the lightening. It will aid you. I won't be far behind."

Loki looked at the metal. He felt the warmth held inside. Then he reached out for his brother, catching his head in his hands. He pulled him down for a kiss, one as passionate as he pleased. He wrapped his legs around his waist, moaning when Thor pressed himself back inside.

"I love you," Loki whispered, tears in his eyes. "Please love me, too," he sobbed.

"I do, Loki. I love you, always." He held him close, always pressing kisses to his mouth, his face, his neck. He moved slowly within, stealing Loki's breath.

It felt good. Somehow, impossibly, he felt pleasure at being filled. To be made love to. Thor did not use him, did not hurt him. He moved as if he wished to merge their souls into one.

It seemed like an impossible pleasure. Taking Thor's cock was no easy feat, but it filled him just right. Loki let the feeling burn into his memory so that when he closed his eyes he would think of this. Warmth and pleasure. Pleasure that was building under soft caresses and clever thrusts. His face was still wet with tears, but Thor kissed his cheeks.

His orgasm came in the safe cradle of Thor's arms. His brother whispered to him sweet things against his skin, slowly moving inside him until he was done. Then he pulled out before he could grow over sensitive.

"Don't you want to?" Loki whispered against his lips.

"It's okay. This wasn't for me."

Loki felt himself wanting to cry again. He should protest that he be a good lover and get him off, but he didn't want that. He wanted to believe that it truly wasn't about Thor's pleasure. He remembered the feeling of stickiness inside and it made him shudder. Maybe another time.

"Do you want me to clean you up?"

"Just... stay with me." Loki blushed.

Thor laid down beside him, wrapping Loki in his arms. "I love you, Loki," he said again.

"I know you do. It's just difficult to believe." He buried his face against Thor's arm. He could smell that warm scent of lightening on his skin.

"Because you feel dirty?"

Loki nodded. "Less so now, to have lain with you."

"Good. You're anything but dirty." Thor pulled him snug against his chest. "You are beautiful, brilliant, as bright as the stars." He nuzzled his face against Loki's hair.

"Nothing that happened made you unworthy of love."

A small smile touched Loki's lips. He basked in Thor's warmth, safe in his arms. "Tell me again? Until I believe you."

Thor pressed a kiss behind his ear. "As many times as you'd like."

#marvel #thorki #r*pe aftermath #murder mention #hurt/comfort #prompt fill #gentle s*x #aftercare

25 notes · View notes

thevoidscreams · 4 years

Text

The birds and the...bunnies? chapter 2

Keigo takami x reader This takes place a few hours after the first one ends. Rating 18+ Words:1590 Warnings: Smut, mentions of breeding Thank you to my beta reader @kamehamethot i love you (This might become a series but only if ya’ll want more. If it is what the people want. If it is what the people need. I shall provide.)

Waking up again to a room that’s not yours might be cause for concern for most people, but with the warm skin under your cheek and the gentle puffs of air being breathed into your hair you were the farthest thing from concerned.

You’d taken today and the tomorrow off so you could deal with your heat without being disturbed.

That whole plan fell over, burned to ash and sank into the swamp the instant you hit the call button on Hawk’s contact the night prior.

Now you were here, naked in your lover’s arms as he slept. He’d stayed with you all of last night and into this morning. It was late afternoon by the looks of the sunlight as it streamed in through half closed curtains.

He’d asked you to be his and now you were, you belong to the winged hero and he to you. Your heart swelled in excitement and affection for the man you lay intertwined with. Your ears twitched as a puff of his breath brushed against its fur, your ears weren’t only sensitive to sounds but to touch as well.

It was something Hawks had exploited last night, kissing and nibbling them while he touched and caressed every part of you that he could.

Your heat wasn’t finished maybe not till tonight or tomorrow morning depending on how active you and hawks were. The thought made heat rise not only in your cheeks but also in your core.

He was still asleep, so peaceful and warm. His muscles were defined so nicely in this light too, from his pecs to his abs, your eyes feasted on the form below yours. Your thighs began to tremble at the thought of being wrapped around his waist and being held in his arms like he did earlier, your legs shifted, sliding over his waist of their own volition. He’d slept on his back and wings just to make sure you’d be comfortable, he held you close and helped you with your heat. He was being so good to you that it made your eyes water a little, these dang hormones were just the worst but the feeling of love that being his brought was so strong and so real.

You wanted to bury yourself in his embrace and just stay there forever.

Hawks stirred as you sat up to straddle his waist, you plush rump pressed to his member in anticipation. Briefly you wondered if he’d need to head out to work soon you didn’t want him to go.

One radiant golden eye cracked open to peek up at you as you ground on his slowly hardening dick, he smiled warmly at the sight.

“Again Bunbun? You’re really insatiable aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry it’s just that being near you makes me unreasonably horny and my heat is making it worse.”

Hawks’s lips quirked up into a perfect little smirk. “You mean you feel like this even when you aren’t in heat? Oh Bunny you’ve been holding out on me! To think that all this time we’ve been dancing around our feeling when we could have been fucking like-” He leaned up on his elbows and stared into your eyes and you knew what was coming, “rabbits.” The smug satisfaction in his voice at the dumb joke was you guffaw and you grabbed a pillow to whack him. “That was awful, an illegal joke, a crime against bunny rabbits everywhere.”

“A crime!? Bunny no, I would never, I’m a hero we don’t commit crimes.” He put a hand to his puffed chest and said in a voice too serious sounding to match his personality, “We save people and step in when things get hare-y.” You brought the pillow down hard again to smite him for his words. HOw was he able to pun so soon after waking?

God why did you love this man?

His hand snatched the pillow away and he tossed it away into the room where it landed with a soft ‘fwump’.

“That’s not very sweet of you my cinnamon bunbun.” He pecked your lips and ground his hips against yours in retaliation.

You kissed him back, your moans growing steadily louder with each subsequent thrust from his hips. You were drenched and feeling weak in the knees and he hadn’t even penetrated you yet. His hands came up to cup your cheeks, smooshing them. “Goodness I could look at you forever, you know that?” He booped your nose with his so gently, it was a simple act of affection but it was nearly more than you could handle.

“And all jokes aside bunbun,” he kissed you again tenderly, each peck filled with sweet emotions, “I’m so glad it was me you reached out to. Being here, holding you, kissing you, loving you. It’s better than anything I could imagine.” You whined at his words, feeling the sincerity in them as he lifted you hips off his to position his length at your entrance and pressed into you.

Soft hums of satisfaction worked through your body as he bottomed out quickly, this wasn’t going to take long at all. Simply hearing his words could have brought you to the edge.

He runs his thumb and forefinger along one of your ears as they flop down the back of your head.

“God you're so cute you know that?” He brings the floppy ear forward and peppers it with gentle kisses. The ginger kisses forced your body to wiggle lightly in his lap and he enjoyed not only your whines but also the feeling of your walls clenching as you did. “No Birdie don’t! They’re sensitive.”

“Are they now? Kinda like my wings I guess.” His kisses turned to nibbles and you melted entirely. He was being petty and getting revenge but he still enjoyed pressing his lips to your ears.

“Please Hawks stop teasing my ears and fuck me. I need your cum so bad.”

Giving your plea a moment of thought he decided to have mercy and let it go. Instead his hands came to rest on your hips, his fingers sinking slightly into the pliant flesh.

“Okay Bunny. I’ll fuck you, I’ll give you all that you need.” He lowered his face to your collarbone and sucked a tiny patch of skin till the skin was a deep purple, you gasped as his tongue ran over the mark. When his hips finally began a steady rhythm you nearly cried in relief. He felt so good inside you. Keigo found himself simply enjoying watching you get more worked up, your eyes practically rolling into the back of your head when he hit your sweet spots. Dragging his cock over them just so, so he could feel your inner walls tighten and hear you cry his name.

Fuck you were stunning. The true meaning of beauty and when you fell apart on his cock Keigo was fairly certain he was getting to see a preview of what heaven looked like.

“Hawks I-I’m so close.” The words tumbled from your lips but you weren’t even sure you were lucid enough to understand them at that point.

“Cum then Bunny, cum on my cock like a good girl.” His command was all you needed, crying his name as he pushed you over the edge. He laid you down beneath him, the bed creaking with the force of his thrusts. Sex with you was never going to get old, you came so prettily beneath him and it drove him wild. Keigo could feel the tightness in his stomach and groin increasing with each snap of his hips.

“Please Keigo, give me your cum, I need to feel your cock cum inside me more!” Your thighs were vices around his waist keeping him deep inside you as he tipped over the edge.

Thick sticky cum flooded into you, his body quaked as he released rope after rope of the reproductive fluid. Once he was done he collapsed onto you, smooshing you. “Fuck bunny babe your pussy sure milked me good.” “Of course, how else am I going to get you to breed me?” He laughed warmly and kissed your ear. “Damn bunny if it’s breeding you want just name a time and place. I’ll be sure to give your cute little hole as much cum as it wants.”

When you finished getting bathed Hawks informed you that he’d have to leave to patrol for a while. You didn’t want him to leave or to be alone but he had a duty to guard the people of his city and he couldn’t shunt the work off onto his sidekicks forever. He left you with a passionate kiss and a promise to be back before dawn if he could. “If you’d like you can stay a while or for the night again if you want.” You kissed him, your lips soft against his as you laid your arms over his shoulders. “I will but I want to get dinner with Rumi first. She texted me during our sex marathon earlier and I said I would meet up with her for at least coffee and dessert.” Keigo nodded and slowly let his arms leave your body. “I’ll see you later then. Take care, my sinnamon bun.” You giggle and he couldn’t stop himself from kissing your nose just once before his wings carried him off into the darkening sky. “You too birdie.”

#hawks x reader #hawks x you #hawks bnha #bnha #bnha x reader #bunny quirk reader

138 notes · View notes

iloveyou3thousand · 4 years

Photo

open wide

Pairing:

Starker

Rating:

Explicit

Word count:

1988

A/N:

This is for the

@starkerfestivals

summer bingo, with the moodboard filling the prompt ‘Red Riding Hood AU’ and the fic filling my ‘vore’ square.

Summary:

The woods were familiar, the trail still visible with the light of the moon overhead. He’d grown up in that forest, was born and raised right there among those trees, and had always felt safe there.

But what he didn’t know, was that recently a new creature had taken residence there, and silently trailed after Peter as the boy carried his little basket, void of treats now that he’d dropped them off on the other end of the narrow path, humming to keep himself company in the quiet of the woods at night.

If only he’d listened a little more closely.

Read it on AO3 here!

TWs: dead dove do not eat, elements of rape, character death, explicit (sexual) violence, vore, explicit descriptions of blood and gore, permanent injuries, very dark werewolf Tony

—————————————————————————————

The first time a twig snapped behind him, Peter didn’t even flinch.

If only he’d listened a little more closely.

The bushes rustled, and although Peter looked up, he was quick to shrug it off as anything but the wind blowing through the trees. He didn’t think of a large creature with shining red eyes taking in the scent of something young and sweet, and preparing to pounce. He didn’t think of it crawling closer, staying hidden in the dark, but never straying too far.

Another twig snapped, this time much closer, and Peter’s heart gave a little jump. He’d not expected it to be so nearby. Usually when a sound like that emitted, it was from somewhere far away, from a squirrel making haste toward their nest, or a rabbit hopping through the underbrush.

This was something very different though. Very different indeed. But Peter didn’t have the time to contemplate what it was.

Suddenly, a few heavy footsteps, thumping on the dirt, lasting only a second before Peter found himself flying forward with a rough blow to his back. Pain exploded across his spine before he even hit the ground, teeth digging hard into the damp mud as he landed face first. He sputtered, and pushed himself up, but whatever had sent him flying was on his back faster than he could get to his feet.

It panted in his ear, hot and humid and something awful.

Peter tried to scream, but the sound cut off when even taking in a deep pull of air had his spine protesting painfully, leaving him gasping futilely for oxygen. Not to mention there were claws, keeping him down, forcing him to stay right where he was. The pressure on his back alone could have snapped him in half, and while he was grateful that didn’t happen, that weight on his ribs and subsequently his lungs wasn’t just a little bit uncomfortable.

Peter struggled, but couldn’t go far. He let out desperate pants, which was all he really could as the air steadily left his lungs and threatened to render him unconscious.

But then one claw lifted, which eased the pressure. Peter heaved. Only one paw remained, and as it smoothed down his back he could feel its nails, on the verge of sinking sharply into his skin if he moved even a single inch. The claw took his clothes with it, his cape tugging at the string around his neck and constricting it painfully until it finally tore and left Peter coughing once more.

He felt the cold night chill touch his bare back once the creature was done. Despite the urge to try and cover himself up, Peter didn’t even get the chance to. There was that claw again, this time on one of his shoulders, nearly crushing bone beneath its grip.

A wet nose, sniffing, like a dog’s, large and inquisitive, tickling wherever it went. Peter whimpered. This was no dog. He could tell. Dogs weren’t quite this large. Hell, even wolves weren’t this big, and he hadn’t seen them in the area for ages. It dawned on the boy that this had to be something else. And while wolves and rabid dogs could be dangerous, he feared that this was something he needed to be scared of much more than any other canines.

The way it growled low in his ear had Peter shivering, fear tickling up his spine and leaving him crippled in its wake. Not like he could have done anything if he’d wanted to – the beast had well and truly overpowered him.

That chilly, wet nose drifted lower, from the back of his neck down his spine, across more exposed skin. Peter jolted when it pressed right up to the cleft of his ass, but again, there was nowhere for him to go.

Peter soon came to find out that the creature’s tongue was long and broad and rough, like it was meant to be able to lick meat off the very bone of the beast’s prey, when the warm thing pressed wetly against his hole.

“N-hah!” Peter managed to get out, but that was about as far as he could get. His priority right now was saving his breath, as it was still on the verge of rapidly running out if he didn’t keep it under control as carefully as he could.

It was an incredible task. The creature’s tongue pushed into him, and Peter’s eyes watered, but he wouldn’t scream. Save your breath. Save your breath. Save your breath.

It didn’t last long.

What lasted much longer was the torture that followed.

The animal seemed to grow impatient with the lapping very quickly, and moved on to something more exciting. It heaved itself up, effectively pressing Peter down into the mud all the more, before the boy could feel the thing behind him move. Frantically, hips stuttering out of Peter’s view, looking to bury its massive, slowly unsheathing cock into Peter’s unprepared body.

And the wolf did so with little issue. It lined up its barely unsheathed cock against the hole he’d discovered with a few licks of his tongue, and forced its full length out of hiding and into Peter in one, firm thrust.

It knocked a scream out of Peter, which earned him a shove, his shoulder protesting beneath the weight of the creature’s paw. So far, the beast had been considerably gentle with his catch. But the second he started rocking into Peter, the boy knew that whatever caution it had taken before was now completely out the window.

White hot pain swarmed him, exploding somewhere between his spine and his belly button as the creature forced its large, pointed cock into him again and again, completely disregarding the fact that Peter’s insides were intricately put together, and delicate – prone to tearing under immense pressure.

And immense pressure it received.

Peter absently noticed a warmth start to drip across his balls and down his thigh, originating from where the creature’s cock pushed viciously against his inner walls again and again, punching in and out of him and showing no signs of stopping. Not yet, at least. Not until Peter could feel the beginnings of something grow at the base of the animal’s cock, something large and unforgiving, which the monster shoved against Peter’s already overstretched and abused hole.

It growled when it couldn’t get it into the boy, who practically folded in two with the force of the aggressive thrusts now, spine screaming at him.

Peter’s vision swam when the wolf reached its peak, giving one last spine-crushing plunge and not giving in until the enormous swelling breached Peter and had the boy crying out as he felt his skin tear with it, barely contrasting the injury now inflicted upon his back, which gave pathetically under the pressure.

Crippling cramps spread across his lower back, the wolf’s claw digging into the flesh of his shoulder as it lifted its head toward the sky and howled in success while Peter lay there struggling to stay conscious.

Slowly, Peter started losing feeling in his legs. First, they tingled where they half dangled behind himself, spread uselessly across the dirty ground. He couldn’t move them, no matter how hard he tried, not even to pull his thighs together in the hopes of easing some of the torment between his legs. They lay there, and continued to lay there – and would continue to lay there until the wolf was finally done with him

Peter’s face was wet with tears. The creature hadn’t moved yet, but Peter could feel it inside of him, spreading its warmth across his ruined insides. Peter didn’t want to think about where it was going to end up now, or he might have gotten sick.

For a short while, the claw on Peter’s shoulder eased. Not its pressure, but the sharpness in his flesh. When those razor-like nails returned and the creature stopped panting, Peter knew that his short break was over.

And sure enough, it started pulling.

Peter couldn’t dig his toes into the dirt, couldn’t struggle against the pushing and pulling and growling in his ear, so he just lay there, eyes squeezed shut as the creature pulled its still fully inflated knot out of him, effectively pulling his spine straight again – but it didn’t feel any better for it.

The beast wasn’t done with him yet. Before Peter could catch his breath and dig his hands into the ground to try and start pulling himself away, it was on him again. He’d thought that maybe the wolf was tired now, sated, satisfied, and done with him. Maybe it would let him go if he made himself scarce, and he could crawl his way back home, where the village witch might be able to take a look at his back and see if she could fix him.

But god, he didn’t feel like this was something anyone could fix. Not even the witch.

Having lost feeling in his legs, Peter didn’t notice when the wolf bit down on his thigh until it violently yanked him back towards it.

Peter cried out as he went – but the sound was soon muffled. The beast showed a flash of large, enormous teeth, already coated in Peter’s blood as it had started oozing from his leg, maw opening wide, and closing viciously on Peter’s side.

The boy’s cries cut off abruptly at the feeling of sharp fangs tearing into his skin, sinking into the tender flesh of his delicate flank. Peter could feel the wolf’s strength as its jaws clamped down. He should have expected it would be hungry after all of that. He should have seen it coming. He should have crawled quicker.

Peter’s mouth filled with blood and he coughed, hands flailing to try and hit at the large beast’s head. He stared into large, blood-red eyes as he hit with all his might, but it didn’t help.

The sickening crunch of his ribs giving out under the pressure of the monster’s teeth would have made Peter scream out in agony, but his lungs filled quickly with blood, leaving him garbling and gagging on his own fluids.

More blood filled his mouth as his broken ribs tore into more of his organs, and slowly Peter’s arms lowered, the pain too crippling to keep up his fight.

As if the wolf was about to give him a small mercy, it unhinged its jaw, letting go of Peter’s torn up waist and looking at the boy as if it understood exactly what it was doing. As if it wanted to look him in the eye before he killed him, or before Peter succumbed.

It was dark out, but Peter’s vision was impossibly darker. His body shocked in its last efforts to try and keep himself alive, but he was rapidly bleeding out from the gaping wounds all over his body, his stomach torn and pouring his insides onto the dirty ground.

The wolf’s maw was red with Peter’s blood, its dark fur sticking to its chin. If Peter didn’t know any better, he would have thought that it grinned at him, right before it opened up its terrifying maw wide once more…

And with one final attack, the monster set its teeth into Peter’s throat, and abruptly ended Peter’s miserable life when it promptly snapped his neck.

46 notes · View notes

idleheart · 4 years

Text

I Never Liked You

notes: excuse me, i’m new in town and it gets worse!! so have some ren pre-relationship angst-fluff bc this rabbit hole has claimed me. rating: we’re starting out at the very most mature. it’s extremely tame but there are some, ahem, compromising positions. pairing: ren jinguji / reader word count: 2,173

He wants long love letters, but he doesn’t think you love him.

Ren’s mind wanders between the hardwood floor of your apartment and the softness of your chest. Even there, somewhere safe with your weight above him, he isn’t sure. You lean forward, all body and bossy in tone. You take up his wrists, thin but not delicate and you push them against the edge of the carpet.

Skin on his has never felt like this, completely absent of any sort of spark or light. But if you were to release him, he knows he’d stay in the same place. He’d wait for you to hold him down again, numbly aware that to be in your arms is better than the alternative.

It’s real for him, at least. This lacks the day-glo warmth of televised love, loved scraped down and condensed to a few easy words. He’s usually so good with words. But you are so close, hovering above him like an angel.

So close, you’re so close. Just a little closer---

“I win again,” you give a laugh, a sweet-sounding laugh before he’s let go. There’s nowhere further to fall, but Ren feels the ground give out under him all the same. You pop up, your hair falling around your shoulders. Triumph is in your smile. You have no idea how he feels, surely.

He rights his expression before you can get a good look at him. He’s in mourning for a moment, all wrapped up in the arch of your grin and missing your pleasant weight.

“I just wanted to see you smile,” he retorts, “you’re cute when you win.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was for your benefit,” you tease, leaning into the melodramatic lie he easily weaves.

But you don’t lean into him. You give him space, retreating from the familiar press of bodies. You shift, leaning all your weight on your right knee and moving until the heat of your thighs against his are just a memory.

You sit in a heap on the floor next to him, still laughing under your breath.

“Good fight,” you congratulate him. You hold out your hand, offering it the way a gracious victor should always offer peace.

After some hesitation, a question of if he truly wants to damn himself a second time, Ren takes it. It’s the wrong choice, it has to be. There is no spark, just as before, but the rightness of touching you is clear.

Why do anything else, he wonders as he sits up. His hair falls in his eyes and you’re drawn to him almost out of instinct.

“May I?” you ask, gesturing to the side of his beautiful face. He smiles, nods as casually as he can manage and tries not to flinch when your fingers brush his cheek.

You ask near-every time before laying a hand on him. You find ways to make his stomach sink and cheeks burn. But for all his years of experience doing the same, having the direction suddenly changed is odd. The drop of his heart from his ribcage borders on unpleasant.

Ren looks at you, really looks as best he can without alerting that something’s wrong. What do you see when you stare back? Undoubtedly a pretty face, with eyes beautiful enough to fall into. But would you? Have you? Fallen, that is. Once, he thought he could tell for certain. Now, it isn’t so.

“Your hands are cold,” he exclaims, if only so you’ll stop touching somewhere that nearly aches for this kind of unexpected intimacy. Even if it’s difficult, too near to what he’s always wanted, he doesn’t want to upset you by brushing it off.

So he takes your hand back in his, his palm swallowing yours. You give his fingers a gentle squeeze, looking worried all of a sudden.

“Wait, really?” you start. You put your other hand to your cheek, feeling your temperature. “I think I’m a little warm, actually.”

There’s a beat, before you see the smile curling up at the corner of his mouth. With a huff, you tug your hand from Ren’s.

“You’re such a liar, I wasn’t even a little bit cold,” you snap, but there’s no bite in your voice. His smile only grows wider, more than happy to return to playful banter. It’s his area of expertise.

“Today just isn’t your day, you keep letting your guard down,” he replies. There’s a sing-song quality to his voice, he doesn’t want to consider whether it’ll work to mask the fresh lie.

“You just wanted to hold my hand,” you mutter, “even after I won, fair and square.”

“You didn’t win honourably,” he retorts, making your eyes snap to him. The fire Ren sees is so warm, closer to what he’s used to from women and yet still markedly different. Hot passion is one thing, he knows it well.

But the way you look, bubbling on the edge of annoyance and put-out is something else entirely. He’s too afraid to name it love, to hope that you might want this forever. He does, he thinks, as he pictures what will happen when this half-argument half-joke is resolved.

The two of you will sit on your couch, channel surfing and retelling old stories from childhood. You’ll surprise him by laughing at his jokes, or leaning over to ask about how the trip to the mechanic went. You remember these things, the things that are the most precious to him. But still, he is in no rush to call it loving acts.

Love is splendid, but it grows cold too soon.

“I did so!” you exclaim. He tuts, shaking his head.

“You disarmed me with your beauty, that’s hardly fair,” he replies. You clearly dislike his tone, it makes you cock your head to the side.

He fails to notice the way you stiffen up, Ren’s admittedly distracted by your hair falling over your bare neck. You’re even beautiful when annoyed with him. In your own uncomplicated way, you’ve made any sort of reaction to his antics an event.

He’s keen to chase that next exasperated sigh or bright smile. But perhaps he’s underestimated your mood this evening.

You turn to him, twisting just slightly to stare. Sat on the ground, you can look directly at him without the hindrance of any height differences. It’s never unnerving to see you confident, it makes his heart flutter.

“You think you’re really tough, huh?” you ask, reaching out and poking him in the chest. It’s a sharp contrast to the feel of your hand in his hair, but no attention you give could go unappreciated.

“Hey, now, don’t put words in my mouth. I just said—” he starts, a grin creeping onto his face to betray him. He meant what he said, to an extent. Though he’s not ready to admit that more than just your pretty face caught him off-guard.

If it was only that, he might’ve stood a chance.

“If you want to fight again, I’ll fight,” you continue, ignoring his futile attempts to diffuse your ire. It isn’t real, he knows, he’s seen you angry and this is far from it. “You’re already on your back, that’s not much of a challenge.”

You straighten up. Despite the offense taken, there’s still that soft hint of mirth in your eyes as you shift closer to him.

“No I’m n—” he starts. You’re looking for a rematch, obviously, and Ren relaxes when you reach out. Your hands find his shoulders this time, giving a gentle shove that knocks him back because he allows it.

Love is stupid, really. He never thought that lying down could be an admission, not in the way that he’s interpreted it. But he goes down easy, falling with a soft thud and a surprised exhale. His eyes widen, playing along with your act.

“Not fair again! I just got distracted a second time,” he insists. But what he doesn’t anticipate is how genuinely fast you are.

With premeditated grace, you’re back on top of him. With ease, he’s compromised. You’re likely expecting him to put up at least the pretense of a fight, but it doesn’t come. His mouth hangs open in genuine shock. The reappearance of your comfortable heat and weight is like a physical blow, one that blindsides him bad enough to send his thoughts racing.

Racing, but scattered. He can’t stutter out anything else, not even an excuse as to why he just lies there. You lean over him, amused but seemingly unsurprised. He expects you to stop at a certain point, but you shift and push yourself onto your knees.

Your face is so close to his. It’s almost close enough. Your hair smells good, like the lilac bush that blooms in an untidily outside your bedroom window. Ren wants to brush away--- something. He isn’t sure. Nothing obstructs his view of you, but he wants to touch you all the same. If only so he can quiet his racing heart.

He thinks you’re going to kiss him. You’re near enough to do it, he rationalizes. But you turn your head at the last second, just before your lips can brush his. You press your mouth instead to the shell of his ear. Your chest is to his chest. Can you hear it, too? His pulse is working overtime.

A part of him hopes so. He braces himself.

“So close your eyes, love,” you whisper. The end of your sentence melts into a giggle. “I can’t distract you if you can’t see me.”

“Yes you can,” he returns. Ren’s eyes stay open because there’s no point in pretending you’re right. It isn’t the look of you, it’s everything else.

“You’re such a flirt!” you exclaim, the disbelief in your voice is shattering. But you don’t sit up, not yet. You seem to like seeing him squirm, laid out beneath you with his ribcage cracked open. He knows he’s lacking in dignity when he lets you look at him without restraint.

You still don’t look annoyed any more. No, you stare at him with something else in your eyes. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you knew exactly what you did to him. But that isn’t quite accurate.

If Ren didn’t know you at all, he’d say that your heated gaze holds a similar uncertainty. With a love that won’t be willingly admitted.

And then you blink, you smirk at him. He’s still got his eyes open, looking stricken but playful. The tension’s receded, your return to this most-favoured spot is no longer something that can be read into. You both retreat to ignorance, happy to write off the exchange as merely awkward. The shame that turns Ren’s cheeks a bit pink is rooted in inaction, not the abundance of it.

He should say something, he realizes. When is he ever at a loss for words? He should say something now.

But when he clears his throat, makes ready to volley a compliment about how he could get used to this--- you’re already gone.

Like before, you ease off him. Maybe you’re embarrassed as well, nervous because you could have and indeed wanted to kiss him. But you failed. Ren doesn’t know which is worse, his regret or your own.

Unlike before, you lie down next to him. The hardwood presses against your shoulder blades, his arm is dangerously close to yours. He hopes he didn’t imagine your shuddering inhale before you move a little nearer. Near enough to put your skin on his.

The rightness returns, even if he feels like something has definitely changed. Hopefully for the better, but he can’t be sure just yet.

“Don’t let me win next time,” you say, “it’s only fun when we both care.”

“It’s just a game,” Ren finally finds his voice, though it sounds half-caught in his throat.

“Not to me!” you exclaim, giving over to a half-joking tone. Any serious connection is to be ignored, for the comfort of both. “This is very serious, I never lose a fight. And not just because I’m pretty!”

“Like I said, you’re not just distractingly beautiful,” Ren admits, willing to budge on that issue if only to hide another. “You’re too fast for me.”

But he means to say you’re perfect. Perfect in every way. Your eyes, your body, your wit and your charms work together to make him helpless.

You don’t catch that, though. You’re not looking at him any more. You’ve not pulled away, but you’ve turned your head to look at the ceiling.

“I’m glad we’re friends, Ren,” you start, “I doubt any of the other guys would let me get away with half the stuff you do.”

“Cut yourself some slack, you’re not so bad. Maybe I like you,” he replies. Ren can’t bring himself to look away from the ceiling either.

It’s the biggest lie yet, perhaps. He loves you, and the use of softer words won’t change that. He has never, ever been able to do anything less.

#utapri #uta no prince sama #ren jinguji #jinguji ren #ren jinguji x reader #jinguji ren x reader #i did actually edit this one bc i wanted to make a good first impression ksjdhf

41 notes · View notes

emmyrosee · 5 years

Text

Hopping.

On The Run I

Hey guess what.

It’s done! I’m so excited!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m terrified. This definitely isn’t how I thought this would go, but I don’t despise it??? I don’t know. Anyways.

WARNINGS: heavy plot, heavy dialogue, language. No smut in this chapter (don’t worry it’s coming😘)

Gordan Merkel x Fugitive!Reader; after a series of unfortunate events lands you in East Berlin, you fear everyone and everything in your path. And it crosses paths with a stranger who takes a risk on you.

———-

“Do you remember how you got here?”

The question snapped you out of your confused daze, and you stared at the man before you. His piercing green eyes bore into you like you were nothing more than a piece of wood, waiting to be carved.

It was a good question, to be fair. But which ‘here’ was this man referring to?

The ‘you,’ running in Milan?

The ‘you,’ hiding in the deepest, dankest corners of Paris?

Or the ‘you,’ committing the most heinous act that you knew possible all those years ago.

No one would blame you for jumping at the most random of sirens. The warrant for your arrest was out there, and the reward was obscene.

Hell, if you knew you would be given some form of immunity, it wouldn’t be such a big deal.

But this was your life on the line now. The police from home, various government officials, even the people who had once housed you had turned against you at the ridiculous amount of money being offered. And no stones could be left; whether they were criminal or not, their crimes would be lessened if they turned you in, dead or alive.

They weren’t very picky.

The chilled streets of Berlin’s alleys only seemed to make your stress levels grow, heart beating faster and faster as you tried to shield yourself from everyone you passed.

Night after night you wandered, opting it safer than the day. In the day, no one was willing to listen to your story, see another side of you. All they saw was money, and they wanted it.

At night however, stories howled like the wind. People of their own sins had more important things to focus on than you, and you accept and adore that lack of attention.

You’re not sure what tripped you off. A distant siren, maybe? Or maybe just one too many money-hungry eyes?

Whatever it was, you felt the need to run.

Well. Run further that is.

You dug your hands deeper into your pockets and slowly crept faster, walking speed feeling more of a jog.

Then faster.

The feeling grew and your holed, disgusting sneakers squeaking against the pavement.

You felt like you were doing this for your whole life. The same routine over and over and over and over again.

Your legs kick higher and higher as you dash, scrambling around as your weakened body struggles to keep up.

Until a massive force stops you, gripping your arms tightly to steady you.

“Woah, woah, woah,” a voice says, struggling against your fighting form. You shove harder at the chest that’s trying to hold you, unsuccessful with every jerk of your much smaller frame. His large hands grab your shoulders and force you into the brick wall you were closest to. But the fire of fear was still roaring, and whether you wanted to or not, you couldn’t stop.

All you could do was bite, kick and scream, praying someone would hear.

“Relax!” He commanded, giving you one last, hard shove. The bricks bit into your skin, the small pebbles of the flaking wall crumbling in your struggle.

“Please,” You whimper in fear. “Please let me go, I-I-I don’t-“

“Shush,” he demands. You close your lips, though you’re unable to stop your shaking lips from allowing whimpers past. Your eyes creak open to look at the deep voiced, large German man who’s grip wasn’t about to falter.

Despite his demanding, deep voice, his eyes showed no malice or anger; in fact, nothing but sympathy was pooled in his forest green irises. His jaw was tight with authority, and he seemingly waited for you to look at him before continuing to speak.

Shit, you think to yourself, not like this. Shit shit shit-

“We need to get you out of the open,” he says sternly, yet softly. “Come on-“

“N-no!” You protest. “No!”

The man pulls back slightly at your apparent fear, and licks his lips in thought.

“I’m not going to leave you out here,” he explains. “God knows the last time you ate or bathed or-“

You tremble weakly in his grip, and almost on cue, your stomach growls loudly. He tilts his head, “you haven’t eaten recently, have you?”

Against your better judgement, you gently shake your head and avoid his laser sharp gaze. He nods, “so I thought.”

“I’ll be fine,” you spit, shrugging him off of your arms. He finally drops his arms as you spin on your heel, crossing your arms tightly over your chest and walk hurriedly away.

“You don’t have to go with me if you don’t want to,” he calls after you, making you stop. “But I sincerely want to help. Please? Just allow me to feed you, then I’ll sneak you over any boarder you’d like.”

“No,” you say quietly, so softly you’re not sure he can hear you. “I’ve made it this far, I can make it further on my own.”

“Don’t think I don’t know who you are,” he says. “You’re that fugitive, aren’t you?” He asks though his voice is sure, making you screw your eyes shut tight. “The one who’s been on the lamb for, what, three years?” His footsteps are loud as they pound on the pavement behind you. “That little pile of mad money that the government has raised is enough to make anyone an enemy, no?”

You say nothing.

“Lucky for you, I have no reason for the money. In fact, I’d set the money on fire and join you on the run as well before I give into any shit that the government spills to its sheep.

“Just let me take you someplace; a safe place that I know. And then wherever you want to go, I will take you. But just take the help I’m willing to give because God knows how long someone is going to show you this extent of mercy.”

You want to scream at him, ask him how he dares speak to you like that. You want to smack him one, tell him that he has no fucking idea who he’s talking to, and that you’ve survived without the help of anyone for those three years.

But you can’t.

Because everything he said is true. That, and you’re so weak- especially from trying to fight him off- that you literally aren’t sure if you raise your hand high enough to smack him.

“I’m heading to Sweden,” you say softly. “You feed me, you get my name, and you take me to the Swedish border. I go from there. Deal?”

“Deal,” he says with a gentle smile.

——————-

“Do you remember how you got here?” The man asks quietly.

Your fingers clutch at the warm, thick blanket that’s draped over your shoulders. In front of you sits a small plate of cookies and a cup of tea, which of you’ve cleared three of. Each time you clear the plate or drain the cup, the man chuckles and merely refills it.

“Any recollection of how you ended up in East Berlin?” He asks, shifting to lean forwards on his knee.

You avoid his gaze some more, eyes casting away to the plate of cookies as you eye them.

“Go on,” he nods. “Have more. Please. I insist.” He smiles encouragingly, and slowly you reach forwards to take another one.

“I don’t know,” you whisper at your cookie childishly, playing the edge against your chapped lips. “I just.... turned a corner and ended up in Berlin.”

“You and I both know that that’s not the type of ‘how’ I meant,” he teases. “I mean I know your records and I know your crimes, but how did you get here?”

Your heart sinks further into your stomach as you finally look up at the man. His face was soft despite his sharp features, the dim lights of... whatever building you were in (a printing house? Some form of passport office? You couldn’t put your finger on it.) casting shadows on him to make him look statuesque.

And you wanted to trust him.

Desperately.

His reassuring kindness and your endless bounty of cookies and tea brought you a new wave of hope, that someone out there just might want to help you with nothing else in mind.

If he wanted the money, why didn’t he just turn you in?

“Where were you before?” He asks.

“Crossed over from Poland. Settled in Cottbus before the game began again.”

He cocks a brow, “game?”

You grin, “of cat and mouse, of course.”

The man chuckles at your joke, smile bright against the dingy air around you.

“More like fox and rabbit, since you’ve been hopping around like a little bunny, no?”

And you laughed.

You actually laughed.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

It was the first time in three fucking years you’d been able to do so much as chuckle, let alone laugh.

The silence, for once, is comforting to you, and you grasp the blanket higher on your shoulders.

“The sun is rising,” he says softly, bring you back to him. Your eyes traveled upward to the windows of his building, and through the dark grey clouds, you could in fact see the brightness of heavens joy that brought you nothing but fear.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper in worry. “I can’t go out there! Not now. Can I just... stay here?”

The man sighs, “sadly, no. But, I can help you further, if you so desire.”

“How so?”

“Stay in Berlin,” he says, grinning as you tense up. “I’ll figure a plan to get you safely to the Swedish border, exactly as you asked. Then,” he crosses one leg over the other, “home.”

Home.

You missed home.

You missed home. A lot.

You’d rather die than not go home, but after three years you wondered if you could even attempt. And to think this man could?

Hm.

But he hasn’t let you down yet.

“That amount of money is going to keep rising, sir,” you insist.

He grins, “my trust for the government cannot be bought, Miss.” He stands up and slowly creeps towards the door, “if you want to come with me and be served with the utmost protection, we must leave now.”

Your ears perk up and your heart pounds. “I don’t even know your name,” you say, a certain sadness in your voice.

He grins.

“Merkel. Gordan Merkel. Trust me. You’re not my first,” he says, pushing the door open. “I’ll come with the car around.”

He winks.

“It’s time to relax on the hopping, little bunny. You’re safe now. I promise.”

Tagging💕

@peachesandfern

@anxiousamandapanda

@hecohansen31

@blakewaterxx

@w0nder-marie

@babyboy-cody

@kathryn-jane

@kaigitana

@ohhoneyaaaaaaa

222 notes · View notes

worryinglyinnocent · 4 years

Text

Fic: Cadillac Love

Rated: E

Cadillac Love

“Dad, that does not sound healthy. When was the last time you had this thing serviced?”

Gold pointedly avoided the question, but if pressed he would have to agree with his son’s statement that the Cadillac did not sound how a Cadillac ought to sound.

Still, it wasn’t his fault that the thing hadn’t seen a mechanic for many more years than it should. Mr Tillman, the only mechanic Gold had trusted to come within an inch of his prized car, had left town a few years ago to take care of his children after his ex-wife died, and whilst Gold would never begrudge the man’s decision, he also would never allow anyone else to touch the Cadillac.

At any rate, despite the strange noises, the car had got them home safely and now all it had to do was sit in the driveway and recover until they needed it again. Which hopefully would not be too soon. The bonnet really was just a tad too hot for Gold’s liking.

“Look, I know it’s your pride and joy and I think that you love it more than me sometimes, but you’ve got to take care of it.” Neal scrabbled around in his overstuffed pockets and handed over a business card. “French is the best mechanic I’ve ever met. Better than Mr Tillman was, if you can believe that. The Cadillac will be in safe hands, I promise.”

Reluctantly, Gold took the card and tucked it away in his coat. Neal was right of course. Neal was always right about these kinds of things. The Cadillac definitely needed some TLC. Perhaps it was time to take a leap of faith and trust someone else with it.

It turned out that he needed the car sooner than he’d anticipated after all. Neal had gone out to catch up with old friends he’d missed during his first year at college, and Gold needed to go and collect the rent from The Rabbit Hole. It was a walkable distance, but the weather was atrocious, and Gold had no desire to turn up at the establishment looking like a drowned rat, no matter how much he might want to save the car.

With bated breath, he got in and started the engine. It spluttered once before nicely purring into life, and Gold smiled. He could pretend that he’d never heard that first splutter. All the same, he stuck to low speeds, crawling through the town until he reached his destination.

The Rabbit Hole was never his favourite place even in its best moments, and Friday night happy hour was definitely not one of its best moments. He went up to the bar, pleased when the bartender saw him and immediately paled, rushing off to the back room with a squeak of ‘yes I’ll just get that rent for you now’.

Gold sat down on a bar stool to wait, not paying too much attention to his surroundings until someone spoke to him.

“What can I get you?”

It was the young woman on his left. Dark hair, brilliant blue eyes, and a little secretive smile on her face, as if she was sizing him up and she liked what she saw. Gold liked what he saw, too, and he felt a pull of desire in the pit of his stomach that he had not felt for a very long time. He shook his head crossly. He was far too old to be picking up young women in bars for one-night stands.

“I’m driving,” he said quickly, to cover the sudden movement.

The woman shrugged. “Something non-alcoholic then. Come on, let a girl show a little interest in the mysterious stranger.” She held out a hand. “I’m Belle.”

“Gold.”

The bartender came back with the rent money and Gold set to counting it out whilst Belle ordered a gin and tonic for herself and an orange juice for him. He smiled, stowing the rent packet safely in his pocket and deciding that since he was in a good mood, having met this young lady who seemed against all the odds to be interested in him, he would not mention the fact that they were ten dollars short this month.

Belle toasted her glass against his. “So, you’re the infamous Mr Gold. I take it that you drove here in your Cadillac?”

Gold nodded.

“Oh, I love that car,” Belle said. There was an almost dreamy quality to her voice. “I practically drool over it whenever I see it in town. I’ve give anything to get a closer look at it.” She leaned in close, whispering in his ear before kissing the lobe. “And a closer look at its owner, of course.”

Gold gulped, willing his cock to stop twitching. It was so long since anyone had shown any sexual interest in him that he was getting ahead of himself, and he kept fearing that this was all an elaborate candid camera set up and he’d be the laughingstock of the town in the morning. But Belle’s bright eyes were genuine, and he felt, perhaps against his better judgement, that she was someone he could trust. Her enthusiasm towards the Cadillac was certainly a point in her favour, and he was pleased to have stumbled across someone with such a good taste in cars.

They continued to talk as they finished their drinks, the innuendo coming thick and fast by the end, and Gold knew that even if the Cadillac was working perfectly, they still wouldn’t be leaving the parking lot any time soon. Belle linked her arm through his as they left the bar, rushing through the heavy rain to get into the car.

Once in, they looked at each other for a moment, and then they were kissing; frantic, heated kisses with lips and teeth and tongues, licking and biting as fingers carded into wet and rumpled hair. Gold pushed his seat back as far as he could and Belle scrambled over onto him, pulling her skirt up around her waist and grinding her hips against his, the pressure against his cock sending him half-mad with want.

He reached down to cup her through her panties, tracing up and down the line of her slit through the damp fabric and making her moan, head thrown back. He took his chances, yanking the panties down so that he could see and touch her properly, and Belle wriggled out of them altogether, tossing them onto the dashboard.

Gold found her clit, rubbing roughly with his thumb whilst his fingers explored her slippery folds, pushing up inside her entrance.

“You’re good,” Belle gasped. “For all you say you’re out of practice. Keep going!”

Gold was happy to obey, his other hand pinching her clit as he pressed another finger inside, stroking her inner walls.

“Fuck!” Belle screamed as she came suddenly, fluttering around his fingers, her hips bucking forward against his hand. “Fuck, Gold, you’re good.”

She kissed him again as she began to come down from her high, and then her hands were on his belt, opening his fly and taking out his cock, stroking and tugging him deftly until Gold was panting, eyes closed. Her thumb brushed over his tip, playing with his foreskin and smearing the drops of precum that were already starting to show. Although he might not be rusty when it came to giving ladies pleasure, he was most certainly not used to lasting for any length of time. His recent experience had been quick and functional touches in the shower to find release as fast as possible, and now he wanted to enjoy Belle’s wonderful fingers, but he could already feel his climax coming.

He spurted thickly over her hand, splashing on his waistcoat. That was going to take some explaining to the dry cleaners, but it was absolutely worth it.

“Fuck. Belle.”

“You can definitely fuck Belle.” She kissed him again. “I have plenty of condoms at home. You can fuck Belle all night if you want.”

“Yes, I think that’s a great idea.”

They set themselves and the car to rights, Belle using her discarded panties to wipe the misted windows, and Gold turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened.

He tried again. Still nothing.

“It’s ok,” Belle said. Gold shook his head and with a sigh, pulled out the mechanic’s card and started to dial the number.

“Honestly, you don’t need to call a mechanic,” Belle said, just as her phone began to ring.

Gold just stared at her as she held out a hand.

“Belle French, local mechanic. Pleased to meet you.”

Gold cut the call and shook her hand, still dumbstruck. “Likewise.” At least he knew that she would treat the Cadillac with the respect that it deserved. She opened the passenger door.

“You’ll get soaked!” Gold protested.

“Oh, what a terrible thought.” Belle’s smile was cheeky, her eyes bright and teasing. “I’ll have to take off all my wet clothes when we get inside. Maybe a hot shower will be in order. You’ll have to warm me up. Skin to skin, of course, that’s the best way.” She darted in and kissed him again before jumping out of the car and going to look at the engine, leaving Gold utterly gobsmacked, his head full of rather distracting images of taking a very wet and very naked Belle French on the Cadillac’s bonnet…

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #Belle French #Mr Gold #SFSS 2020 #Fic: Cadillac Love

21 notes · View notes

amwritesstuff · 5 years

Text

What You Want (Kirishima/Reader) Lemon

Y’all ever start looking things up on Wikipedia and just go down some really weird rabbit holes that lead to sex toys you’ve never understood the point of because they just seem painful? And then proceed to get a smutty story idea for it?

----

As a pro Hero of several years, Kirishima was well schooled in hiding his nervousness out on the field. In the bedroom? Not so much. It was just such an intimate setting and he really wanted to please you. You supposed that was in part what made him so gung-ho when you brought up wanting to try something new, but you'd been dating him long enough to know better. The closer you got to performing the deed, the more jittery he became.

You were knelt between his legs, adjusting his soft penis and scrotum into an adjustable cockring. He was watching you intently, squirming a bit in his bindings as you gently handled him. You pulled back once finished, looking up at him.

“There. How's that feel? Do I need to loosen it any?”

“N-no, it feels…” he pulled a face as he took in the sight of his cock and balls being held away from his body by the small band. “Fine.”

You sighed, rubbing your hands soothingly on his inner thighs. “Eijirou… Eijirou, look at me. You don't have to do this just because I wanted to. I can take it off if you're uncomfortable.”

“N-no! I want this! I-I want to last longer for you,” he looked at you so earnestly, cheeks taking on a lovely shade of pink. This man. He was always trying to outperform himself for you. You smiled softly.

“And I want you to enjoy yourself, hun. It's why I suggested it.” Slowly, you began to move up his body, giving light pecks up his torso as you went. “You do so much to make sure I'm satisfied and ask for nothing in return. That ring makes you last longer so it can intensify your experience.”

His breathing became increasingly more akin to panting, grunting as you lightly bit a nipple, gasping as you nipped his collar bone, groaning as you gently sucked a sweet spot below his ear until you finally stole his breath entirely from a slow kiss. Your hands moved over his neck to the back of his head, cradling him up to you, as you were now hovering above him on your knees from his seated position.

This was such a different pace then what he was used to with you. You were impatient and insatiable when it came to your own pleasure, which was why he was always seeking ways for himself to last longer. To pull as many orgasms from you as he could before he spent himself. It wasn't always easy. Even before he started at UA, he had quite the stamina stockpile, Hero training had increased it exponentially. But, you… god, your sex drive was through the roof.

Not that he was complaining, far from it, but it was sometimes difficult for him to keep up with you after a long day. You had started backing off when you had caught on to his fatigue, scolding him for not telling you he was tired. He had gone on about not wanting to deny you and pulling pouts he knew you had a hard time saying ‘no’ to. You stood strong though, ever as stubborn as you were, not wanting him to wear himself out for your sake. Instead, you chose to put aside your needs and take care of him.

It was during the first time you had done this -dozing off as your hands worked absolute magic on his back- that he realized how good you were to him. How unworthy he was of someone to pamper him like this while not obtaining the pleasure that they had originally sought, because he was too tired. He vowed to do better.

He took control in the bedroom, even if he was beneath you, quickly learning what made your toes curl. You liked to be dominated, held down, eaten out with vigor, bitten hard enough to leave marks and bruises, talk that was absolute filth, fucked hard and fast, overstimulated, and being filled to the very brim with cum. Kirishima's pride as a man wasn't going to let him give you anything less than what you desired; what you damn well deserved. And seeing you fall apart every time, knowing he was the cause of it, made him feel at his manliest.

However, he gave nothing up when you tried to ask what he enjoyed. His reasoning was that you took such good care of him on a regular basis; putting up with his insecurities that he still struggled with, as well as the stress of him being in a job that often put his life on the line. The least he could do was pleasure you how you wanted.

You weren’t having it. You had to find what he liked at a slow pace though, making him think it was a possible kink you wanted to try for yourself. It was all paying off now. You found that he liked it slower, more sensual. Building up to the finish with close affection and warm praise. A far cry from your preferences, but this man fucking deserved his wanton desires, and you were going to give it to him as best as you could.

When you pulled away, he instinctively tried to follow, wanting more of you. He let out a small whine when he failed to touch you from his hands being bound behind him, opening his eyes to plead with you. Were those bindings not in place to keep him from easily overpowering you to fuck you as you liked, you would have given in. While you knew him touching you was one of those things he loved, you couldn’t allow it. Not now, but…

“Tell you what,” you ran your nails over his scalp. “I’ll untie you if you prove you’re a good boy.” The widening of his eyes was accompanied by a lovely blush spreading over his cheeks.

And the nudge of something at your leg.

You couldn’t help but let out a little giggle. “Oh? Do you like the sound of that? Well, it shouldn’t be too hard for you,” you moved to suck at the increasing pulse at his neck. “You’re already such a good boy for me, aren’t you?” He groaned as you lightly bit him, tilting his head slightly.

“Hmm, yes, you are. Listen to those sounds you make for me,” you moved back to look him in the eye, words taking a more serious tone. “Just a reminder, if you start going numb or feel anything uncomfortable down there, you let me know immediately, alright?” You smiled coyly at his quiet nod, pushing yourself to his lips, hovering ever so close to them. “No, no, don't go back to being quiet now. I want to hear everything. Don’t you dare keep those noises to yourself. I want to hear what I do to you. Can you do that for me, Eijirou?”

His agreement came out in a breathless whisper as he quickly claimed your mouth. He attempted to make the kiss hot and passionate, which you almost let him get away with. You'd pull away each time you felt he was too aggressive until you were gently nuzzling one another, sharing soft pecks.

You kissed him slowly once more, delicately sucking his lower lip, pulling it with you as you sat back to take him in. His hair was down, wonderfully framing his flushed face, his blush traveling down to his chest that was heaving just so, mouth hanging open to allow his heavy breath to puff past his swollen lips. He was leaning forward to follow your kiss, eyes not quite closed and eyebrows furrowed.

God, this was probably the hottest you've ever seen him.

You waited for him to come back to his senses, opening his eyes to see you biting your lip as you looked him over, your own face betraying your ravenous want. He swallowed, feeling a bit embarrassed under your hungry gaze. His eyes zeroed in on your mouth. Your taste lingered on his tongue, but it wasn't near enough to satisfy him. He craved more of you and knew he was doomed to forever crave you the second you shared your first kiss.

He blinked stupidly at your finger suddenly on his forehead. You didn't realize that his awed gaze was from how radiant you appeared to him, your light laugh and gracious smile filling his chest with such a warm sensation.

“Did you hear me?”

“Ah,” he grinned cheekily up at you to try and hide his embarrassment. “Sorry, I didn't. Guess I was too caught up in remembering how lucky I am to have you.”

This caught you off guard. Dirty talk was always a turn on for you, be it receiving or giving. But that statement paired with that genuine loving look made you think that you might need to reevaluate your kinks. How did this man so easily twist you up in a jumble without realizing he was doing it? You were supposed to be seducing and pleasing him, damnit!

You cleared your throat in an attempt to regain your composure. You needed to get back in control, so you captured him in another long slow kiss. You didn't pull away entirely when you ended it.

“I asked, what do you want me to do?” He seemed to be having a hard time comprehending.

“... What I want?” You chuckled lightly, moving to take an earlobe between your teeth. His breath hitched.

“That's right,” you cooed softly, pushing your body flush against his, reveling in the sound he made. “Tonight's about you. What,” you kissed below his ear. “Do,” his strong jaw. “You,” his slightly stubbled chin. “Want?”

You hovered over him again, holding his face as he owlishly blinked up at you. His expression said it all. He was conflicted. He'd given for so long that now when the choice was before him, he wasn't sure. You figured you could try to help him out.

You smiled lovingly. “What have you wanted me to do to you that you've never asked for? It could be something that I've even suggested.” His face was reddening. Good, he had something in mind, but just wasn't saying it. “Come now, Eijirou. Be a good boy and tell me-”

“Suck me!” He lurched forward with such vigor, nearly yelling it in such earnest, that you almost toppled off his lap. It was your turn to blink down at him in bewilderment. He seemed to sense that his answer might have been a bit much, starting to curl into himself.

“S-sorry, I, uh…”

“No! No, it's alright! I just wasn't expecting that level of enthusiasm. I'm all for it, though!” And truly you were. It wasn't like you had never sucked him off before, you had plenty of times, but it was usually as a quicky. It never really came about during your longer sessions, as he was always too busy being focused on you.

You gave him a quick kiss. “Honestly, I like how your cock tastes, and I'm excited to find out if it's any sweeter with that cockring choking it.”

He turned a red that rivaled his hair, making a strangled noise as you practically dropped to the floor. That was the insatiable sex fiend he knew and loved.

Kirishima let out a breath, closing his eyes to calm his jitters as he waited for the wonderfully familiar pleasure of you devouring him. You knew just how to work him to make him cum and with his member straining in its binding, he was gleefully anticipating how this would go.

He sighed as your hands ran over his thighs, nails ghosting up his abdominals. He tensed, feeling your breath at his base. He opened his legs a little wider, unknowingly scooting his hips forward. Oh, he was more than ready to feel your mouth take him!

What he was not ready for, was the bite on his tender inner thigh.

His yelp came from surprise as it wasn't hard enough to really hurt. He looked down, finding your eyes closed, sucking gently on his bite. Your nails were ever so slightly scratching his pelvis, close to the cockring.

You dislodged yourself with a pop, giving a gentle kiss to the darkening spot. His breath caught when you opened your eyes to gaze up at him. There was a look in your eyes. One he wasn't sure he liked.

“I-I thought you were going to, um…” You raised your eyebrows for him to continue. Why was this so difficult all of a sudden? The last time he had this much of a problem with sex talk was when he first found out how dirty you liked it.

He had to break away from your gaze, it being a little too much at the moment. So, he focused on his dick instead. And, honestly? After catching sight of himself he didn't know if he could look away.

He knew he was hard, but this… He was an angry red, darker than his hair, swollen past his normal girth, and the slight curve that he had was almost straightened. They hadn't really done anything, but he was already leaking enough for it to be dribbling down his side.

This was… Fuck, this was erotic. He could only watch as he became harder from just looking at himself, his cock straightening out fully. He only pulled his eyes away when your face appeared beside him. He groaned at the sight.

You smiled up at him teasingly. “I've gotta say, red is definitely your color!”

He was more than ready when you pulled back, knowing full well you were positioning yourself to go down on him. And, fuck was he ever ready for it.

He let out a whine when you bypassed his cock entirely, latching your lips on the juncture of his leg and pelvis, and sucked. He grit his teeth in frustration when you moved to the other side, biting down then sucking. You did this several more times, sometimes getting right at his base, once or twice placing a little kiss to his tight balls, but never truly touching his ache. The brushes of your hair and skin on his cock while you worked around it was a torturous type of teasing that was driving him mad. And you took your agonizingly sweet time.

He was a squirming, panting mess, thighs and lower abdomen littered with hickeys when he finally uttered out a word.

“Hm?” You detached yourself from the space under his ball sack. “What was that?” You were a bit breathy yourself.

“Please…” Fuck, he was on the verge of tears. He needed some kind of relief. “Please…”

He chanced a glance at you when he didn't feel anything happening. You were staring at him wide eyed, mouth slightly open. Face redder than before. His voice grew needy, cracking in desperation.

“Babe, please, touch me. Suck my cock! Shit! Let me go and I'll do it myself!” Your eyes widened further. “I-is that what you want? To watch me make a mess of myself and cum all over? O-or, do you want me to beg? Babe, I'll beg! I'll beg so pretty! Just please! Fuck me- GahAA!”

His head shot back in a throaty wail as you took his cock fully into your mouth, swallowing around him as best you could when you felt him reach your throat. It was a little challenging since he was bigger than normal. You would manage, you were determined to. You started at a steady pace, trying to keep his hips from bucking. Easier said than done. Perhaps you had played with him a little too long.

He shouted out in frustration, followed by the sound of his bindings ripping from his quirk. You were jerked up, squealing as he roughly positioned you on his lap. Yeah, you played too long. But, this was a learning experience, and now you knew-

You arched in a silent scream as Kirishima slammed you onto him with no warning, gripping your hips tightly to keep up with his sudden frantic pace. He was already girthier than average, but with the cock ring trapping his blood flow, he was stretching you much wider.

He began slowing both of your movements almost as suddenly as he had started pounding you. Lost in your lust, your original plan was gone from your mind, whining and desperately trying to move quicker. However, he had a firm grip still, keeping you from any attempt of doing so.

One hand traveled up your back and into your hair when he felt you had calmed enough. He pulled you as close to him as he could, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. His other hand moved to your lower back, rubbing small circles with his thumb. He kept you like that for an agonizing amount of time, just holding you to him while his cock twitched deep inside you.

You caught your breath, mewling into his ear for him to do something. Anything! He shushed you, placing light kisses to your shoulder. “You said this was for me, right?” his voice was quiet, having a little growl to it that sent a shiver down your spine. “All for me… So, I’m going to have you how I want.”

His hands moved to your hips, guiding you to move, increasing your pace little by little. He settled on a speed akin to a crawl, causing you to whimper pathetically at the near lazy pace. He was more than strong enough to keep you from trying to go faster.

There was a fleeting thought that this must have been what he had been feeling during your teasing. And that's what it was to you. Teasing. Wonderful, tortuous teasing. When you had finally stopped struggling did you begin to really take notice of the feel of him moving around you. Moving in you. There was a warmth building in you that you had never noticed during sex before.

You had the sudden urge to be closer to him. A need to be closer. Just to feel more of him. Your arms wound tighter around his neck, hands fisting his limp hair, pulling yourself to him until your chests were rubbing together, your light breaths puffing in his ear.

You let out a strangled gasp as your body convulsed in an orgasm that you were unaware had been building. You had been so wrapped up in the new sensations of the slow, sensual dance that you were completely blindsided by it. So much so that you nearly slid off his lap. His grip didn't let you get far though, still moving your hips leisurely on his cock through it all.

Kirishima let out a hum of approval as you came down. He gently bit and sucked at the juncture of your neck, groaning out little praises of how good you were doing at this pace. How might you deserve a little reward.

He leaned back from you enough to see your face, tightened his grip, and began rapidly bucking up into your swollen pussy. It was like going from zero to eighty. You weren't ready for the suddenness of it. It sent you reeling, crying out, and tensing entirely in overstimulation. It was much closer to your preferred pace. Now gripping his shoulders, you also leaned away from him, tilting your head back to try and give yourself more leverage to move at your rhythm, only to have his hand force your head back down.

“No, no,” he breathed, locking those burning red eyes to yours. “Look at me. Don't you dare look away.” While breathy, his voice was commanding, compelling you to obey.

You watched his face contort, eyebrows forming a slight crease in his effort to keep pace. His ears, cheeks, and neck were flush such a pleasant rosy color. His lips were pulled back to show off his teeth that were just enough apart for his grunts and groans to clearly be heard as they grew louder. He as working to keep his eyes open and on you. And he was very much enjoying what he was watching.

Your eyes were half open, struggling to keep contact with his when your body wanted to throw itself back in pleasure. Your skin was too hot, numbing your nerves to anything but his cock pounding up into you. Your lips were parted just enough to let out your growing whines until it dropped open in a loud, gasping moan. Kirishima couldn't last after witnessing that display, pulling you into a sloppy, heated kiss as he spent himself deep into you.

Your heated make out simmered down to light, affectionate pecks as you both relaxed into one another. He held you close, hips still twitching in the aftermath. He still didn't let you go as he flopped back onto the bed, causing you to let out a little squeak of laughter. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, simply basking in the presence of each other.

“So,” you started, pushing yourself up to look at him. “What did you think?”

He gave a breathless laugh. “Honestly? I, uh… heh,” he looked a little sheepish. “I really wouldn't mind using it again.”

#Kirishima Eijirou #lemon #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima/reader #kirishima x reader #my hero acadamy

80 notes · View notes