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m1ckeyb3rry · 9 months

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Hurricanes / Hummingbirds: VI

Series Synopsis: As the years go by, you find that it is incredibly difficult to survive wars and fight storms, especially when the only thing you have by way of a cursed technique is the blessing of a tiny bird.

Chapter Synopsis: Your childhood is ended when you lose someone you never thought you would.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x Female Reader; slight Kento Nanami x Female Reader; slight Satoru Gojo × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.6k

Content Warnings: swearing, enemies/rivals to lovers, character death, canon-typical violence, angst, gore, original characters included

A/N: the only thing i like more than creating found families is destroying them

Winding your arm back, you threw a rock the size of your fist directly at Gojo. It slowed down in the field of his Infinity, and he plucked it out of the air with a wide grin.

“It looks like it’s working pretty well,” you said. A little less than a year after the events with the Star Plasma Vessel and Hinode’s death, in the heat of the late summer sun, Gojo had finally mastered his Infinity.

“Try your technique on me,” he said. “Let’s see if it can defend against that.”

“Sure,” you agreed readily. “Do you want me to just punch, or should I use the Sword of Syrinx?”

“Might as well use the sword. I know how attached to it you are. You probably couldn’t even take a shit without its help,” he said.

“Very funny,” you said, drawing your sword and activating your technique.

Would you like to use the Hummingbird’s Blessing?

You have been given the Speed of the Hummingbird!

You have been given the G-Force Resistance of the Hummingbird!

You have been given the Maneuverability of the Hummingbird!

As Gojo had worked to improve his control of the Infinity, you had pushed your mastery of your technique. It meant that you had spent much of your time in torpor, recovering energy spent from training too hard, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. You would not be caught off-guard again; you refused to let anyone else die the way Hinode had.

Cursed energy coursed through your veins as you appeared by the motionless Gojo, moving too fast for a normal person to quite comprehend, though it was still nowhere near the top speed you could reach with the Hummingbird’s Blessing active.

You have been given the Dive Power of the Hummingbird!

At the last moment, you used the power in your legs to jump into the air, twisting around so that you could imbue the Dive Power of the Hummingbird into your sword as you brought it down on Gojo. If your strike connected, it would have enough force behind it to not only cut through his entire body but also several feet of rock beneath him.

Just like the stone had, however, you grew impossibly slow as you reached Gojo, the sword almost reaching him but never quite making contact. Dropping to the ground with a thud, you cancelled the technique.

You will now enter the Torpor of the Hummingbird.

You swayed in place. Gojo turned off his Infinity so that you could hold onto his arm, your eyelids drooping as you entered torpor. The familiar blackness took over, but it was more like a blink, passing in a flash. Almost as soon as it came, it was gone again.

“How much time passed?” you said.

“Two minutes,” he said.

“Not bad!” you said.

“And my Infinity is working exactly as it should, even though I haven’t turned it off in so long that it should be completely burnt out by now,” he said.

“Nice,” you said, raising your hand for a high five. He slapped his palm against yours.

“I just have to get my Domain Expansion working without any kinks, and I should be good to exorcise any curse, no matter how powerful,” he said.

That was the crux of it. Satoru Gojo had become, in an unrivaled sense, the strongest. Where once at least Geto could be considered his equal, now, there was no one who could stand beside him, not in any way that mattered. There was not even anyone that could touch him, since his Infinity was all but constantly on.

“I’m sure it won’t be long,” you said as you began to walk towards the bathrooms. “You’ve been pretty quick with everything else. Even Yaga can’t shut up about it.”

Masamichi Yaga was the one who had picked you up when you had arrived in Tokyo. As well, he was the second year teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech, and a notoriously hard-to-impress man. He was the epitome of tough love, so the fact that he was extolling Gojo’s virtues was massively to your friend’s credit.

You no longer felt shy about referring to Gojo as such, as your friend. To be sure, you had not replaced Geto for him, and he had not replaced Haibara and Nanami for you, but it was true that in the past year, you both had become closer.

For him, it was probably because you were the only one who had the time to help him practice with his Infinity. You could not count the amount of things you had thrown at Gojo, the amount of tiny bruises you had caused to bloom on his fair skin nor the amount of minuscule cuts you had bandaged for him in the pursuit of keeping his Infinity automatically on at all times.

For you, it was the fact that he allowed you access to his family’s records. When you went back far enough, you had found one single mention of Hummingbird’s Blessing. Apparently, it was considered one of the great failures of the Gojo clan, as the single other sorcerer who had possessed it was supposed to marry into the family before her untimely death. The records never explained the technique, nor did they identify that sorcerer, so your research ended there, but the fact that the Gojos had coveted it meant that it was powerful enough.

In return for your help with his Infinity, Gojo agreed to aid you in developing Hummingbird’s Blessing, and now, you were companions; or, if not companions, then at minimum training partners. But training partners did not seem like a profound enough distinction for the easy camaraderie you two had developed, so if you ever needed to refer to him, it was only ever as friend.

“Unfortunately, I think this is where we’ll have to part,” Gojo said as you reached the bathrooms. “Unless…?”

“Get away,” you said, going to shove him but finding his Infinity blocking your attempt. He burst into laughter, wiggling his fingers in a wave as he ducked into the men’s bathroom, leaving you to roll your eyes and enter the women’s one.

The steam and the heat of the shower was good for your muscles, which were always a little sore after you used your technique, despite the restorative effects of the torpor. It was a reminder that when your technique was active, you were breaking natural laws. For the most part, your cursed energy and — if you were really pushing yourself — the Sword of Syrinx bore the brunt of the cost, but your muscles would never escape unscathed. It would be wrong if they did.

The first thing you did when you emerged from the shower was head towards the vending machines. You were in the mood to drink something, and there were some coins in the pocket of the sweatpants you had donned in favor of your uniform.

When you got there, you were met with Geto sitting on the bench and staring out the window in thought. Inserting the coins into the machine and punching in the code for the drink you wanted, you waited for it to fall down the slot and then reached in to pull it out. Popping it open, you sat down next to Geto, crossing your legs and taking a sip.

“If I asked you what you were thinking about, would you tell me?” you said. He flinched, turning to look at you in shock. There were heavy purple bags under his eyes, and his lips were cracked and dry, the hollows in his cheeks harsher than you had ever seen them. Frowning, you wondered when he had gotten like this. Or had he always been this way? You weren’t sure. You couldn’t quite picture how Geto had looked in the past anymore.

“I’m not thinking about anything,” he said. You offered him your drink; he accepted it, raising it to his lips and taking a swallow before returning it to you.

“Meditating, then?” you said.

“You could call it that,” he said. “Have you seen Satoru?”

“I was training with him earlier, and then we went to shower, so I’d assume he’s still busy with that. You know how long his routine takes him,” you said. Geto smiled, though it didn’t warm his eyes the way it used to.

“Of course,” he said.

“Did you need him for something?” you said.

“No, someone had come to talk to him, but they left already,” he said. You thought about inquiring further, but it wasn’t really your place, so you just finished off your drink, tossing the empty container in the trash can and sighing in satisfaction when it made it in.

“I should’ve joined a basketball team,” you said. “Oh, well. Sorcery is a fine second option.”

“Second option?” Geto said. “You mean, this isn’t what you really want to do?”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and chose not to respond. “You want a cola or something? I’ll pay.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m not that thirsty, and I’d be a terrible upperclassman if I made you pay for me.”

“Alright,” you said, standing and stretching your arms out, massaging your neck ruefully. “Man, this blows.”

“What happened?” he said.

“Just training and all. Using my technique leaves me achy for a bit,” you said. Geto’s shoulders slumped, and he rested his chin in his hands.

“Why do you even keep using it, then?” he said. You thought about it for a second. You could’ve said that it was for Hinode, or some other such altruistic reason, but that didn’t feel completely correct. It was certainly part of the explanation, but there was something else that you had not quite yet put your finger on.

“If I ever find out for sure, I’ll let you know,” you said. “But for the moment, I should get going. Nanami and Haibara are traveling pretty far for their mission tomorrow, so I want to spend some time with them before they leave.”

“You weren’t assigned to go with them?” Geto said.

“No, it’s just a grade 2 curse. The two of them will be enough to handle it,” you said.

“Right,” he said. “Of course, that makes sense. They’d leave their stronger sorcerers in reserve for when bigger problems arise.”

“When, not if? You seem pretty sure that something bigger will pop up,” you said.

“As long as non-sorcerers are around, leaking their negative emotions as cursed energy, something bigger will inevitably appear,” he said. You arched a brow.

“I didn’t know you were so interested in curse theory,” you said.

“It’s a recent development,” he said.

“Hm,” you said, furrowing your brow. “Well, don’t stay up too late reading, I guess. See you later!”

“See you,” he said, staying on the bench and watching as you walked away.

Once again alone, you mulled over the conversation. Why were you a sorcerer? There were a lot of possible answers. At first, it had been because there was nothing else left for you, but now you had enough control of your cursed energy that you could integrate back into normal society pretty seamlessly. Then, it had been out of tribute to Hinode’s memory, but you had saved enough lives by now that any debt you owed to your teacher had honestly been well paid off.

“Whatever,” you said to yourself as you reached Haibara’s room, which somewhere along the line had been designated as your official hangout spot. “He’s just going through his midlife crisis or something.”

As soon as you opened the door, Haibara was shoving a paper plate with a greasy slice of pizza on it at you. You accepted it and took your usual place on the beanbag he had next to his bed.

“You finally made it!” he said, sitting back down at his desk chair. Nanami, who was on the actual bed, continued to chew on his own slice of pizza, though he spared you a nod in greeting.

“Sorry, I was training with Gojo, and then I got caught up talking with Geto,” you said. “Did you know he’s into curse theory now?”

“He’s always been into technical stuff like that. Why are you surprised?” Haibara said.

“That’s true,” you said. “It’s probably nothing. Are you guys excited about your mission?”

“Excited isn’t the word I’d use for it, no,” Nanami said now that his plate was empty. You wordlessly offered him a napkin, which he used to wipe the oil off of his fingers gratefully.

“I’m excited! It’ll be fun to go somewhere new,” Haibara said. “I wish you could come, though, Y/N.”

Ever since you had begun to utilize Hummingbird’s Blessing in a meaningful way, you had stopped being assigned to missions with Haibara and Nanami. You were considered stronger than them now, often sent on missions by yourself or with older sorcerers such as Yaga. Occasionally, you would even accompany Geto, though that was rare. Although you didn’t use your technique unless you absolutely needed to, just the fact that you had it was enough to push you to a different level from the rest of your classmates.

“Me, too,” you said genuinely. You missed the days when you all had done everything together, when exorcising had been a game and all you wanted to do was make Hinode and the upperclassmen proud. But now, exorcising was a chore and Hinode was dead and you three would never be those kids again. “Let’s ask Yaga to get the higher ups to assign us on the next one together.”

Reminiscing was not a crime. Even if having all three of you on a mission would be excessive, it would still be fun, and you doubted the higher ups would be hugely against it if you promised to be quick.

“Sounds good,” Nanami said.

“Feeling nostalgic?” you said.

“As if. The mission will just be done that much faster if you come along, Y/N,” he said.

“And maybe with us supporting you, you won’t have to go into torpor!” Haibara said. He and Nanami were the ones most affected when you were in that state, staying by your bedside and refusing to do their schoolwork or go on missions until you woke up.

“Oh, speaking of which, I only went into it for two minutes after sparring with Gojo earlier,” you said.

“Really? That’s a major improvement,” Nanami said.

“Of course, my technique wasn’t active for that long, but it did give me an idea,” you said.

“What is it?” Haibara said. You shook your head.

“I’d have to test it out first, but that can be a thought for when you guys are back,” you said.

“Okay, sure,” Haibara said. “I forgot to ask earlier, but do you want us to bring you any souvenirs, Y/N?”

“Souvenirs? I can’t think of anything,” you said.

“Come on, there’s gotta be something you want!” he insisted.

“Give me a second to think about it,” you said, throwing away your empty paper plate.

“One,” he said cheekily. “Okay, that was a second!”

“You are so annoying,” you said. “Bring me back something from a convenience store.”

“You want convenience store snacks?” Haibara said. “That’s really it?”

“Wow, not as demanding as I was expecting,” Nanami said. “Considering what you make Gojo bring back for you…

“That’s because it’s Gojo,” you said. “I know he’s going to go out and do random stuff regardless, so I might as well get something out of it. But I don’t want you guys to waste your time and money on me when you wouldn’t otherwise. So, convenience store snacks will be enough to make me happy.”

“If you say so,” Haibara said. “And you’re fine with watching Sora while we’re gone?”

“No problem,” you said.

“I’d hire a dog sitter, but she really seems to like you,” he said. The dog he had adopted after yours and Hinode’s mission was a fixture at the school now, a friendly face that made the pain of sorcery easier to bear. She could usually be found either wandering the campus or playing with one of Yaga’s cursed puppets, which he readily allowed her to do, and even the most stoic of sorcerers would pet her as they passed through the school.

“Seriously, it’s fine,” you said. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind taking care of her for a bit.”

“You’re the best,” Haibara said.

“It’s getting pretty late,” Nanami said. “If we have to leave early tomorrow morning, we should get to bed.”

“Right, sorry to keep you guys up,” you said, standing and hugging them, first Haibara, then Nanami.

“Good night!” Haibara said.

“Good night,” Nanami echoed.

“Good night, both of you,” you said. “Good luck tomorrow!”

“Thanks!”

You woke up late the next day, the sun streaming into your room as you leisurely stretched before getting up and getting ready. You took your time — after all, classes were cancelled for the day, since there was no point in teaching to only one student.

After eating a nice breakfast of your own, you chatted with Ieri as you fed and brushed Haibara’s dog. It was one of the rare days that there was no one for her to heal, so she lit a cigarette and walked through campus with you and Sora for a bit.

The two of you didn’t talk about anything that deep, but that was what you liked about spending time with her. The weather, what books you were reading, your plans for the weekend, it was all entirely refreshing and normal. Being with Ieri was like being a regular girl, and you appreciated her for it.

After walking with Ieri, you went back to the dining hall and had lunch. Gojo was on a mission, and Ieri and Geto had to attend their afternoon classes, so you played fetch with Sora and then got your homework for the week done.

All in all, it was a lovely, peaceful day. You even did a face mask before showering, and the pain in your body subsided a little as you finally got the chance to relax for the first time in what seemed like ages.

The next few couple of days passed in the same way, but by the third day, unease began to creep in and soil the calm routine. Eventually you could not take it anymore; dropping the ball and apologizing to Sora, you shifted directions so that you were walking, then running, all of the way until you reached Yaga’s office.

“Why aren’t they back yet?” you said.

“I was just about to call you,” he said. “Satoru found them.”

“And?” you said. Yaga pursed his lips and averted his gaze, and the silence was enough of an answer, though it was one you refused to accept.

This was worse than it had been with Gojo. This was a million times worse. You covered your ears so that you didn’t hear Yaga’s explanation, filtering out whatever muffled words made it past the blockade — Haibara…first grade…too strong. You would not comprehend it.

Even Hinode’s death had been bearable. Even that you had survived. Not them, though, anyone but them, you could lose so many other people and make it but you could not bear to part with them. Not yet and not ever.

You slammed the door to the operating room open, narrowly missing being hit by a stool, which crashed into the wall and then bounced to the ground on its side. Geto was there, covering something — you wouldn’t look, you wouldn’t look — with cloth, and Nanami sat on another stool, leaning back, a towel blocking out his vision.

“Nanami,” you said. His jaw clenched at the sound of your voice, but he did not otherwise react. “Nanami, where’s Haibara?”

His hands balled into fists at his side. “Shut up.”

“Where is he?” you said, looking around, trying to figure out where the rambunctious boy was hiding. He did that, he liked to play jokes and pranks, so it wasn’t out of character for him to be messing around with you. Though this was not a particularly funny trick, and nobody around you was laughing. “Geto? Where is Haibara?”

Geto motioned towards the table. You shook your head. He placed a tentative hand on your shoulder, though it was trembling, like he could barely keep himself together.

“That’s not true,” you said. “Why would you say such a thing? Where is he really?”

“It ended up being a grade 1 curse,” Nanami said dully. “They said it was a grade 2, which was why we were sent on the mission without you. But that thing, it was some kind of a local god. We didn’t stand a chance.”

“You should rest now, Nanami,” Geto said. “Satoru will take care of it.”

“Can’t he just take care of everything from now on?” Nanami said before fishing around in his pocket, not even lifting the towel from his face before he tossed something in your general direction. Out of reflex, you reached up and caught it.

It was a small box, wrapped in paper. In the corner were three wide-eyed rabbits, and someone had taken a marker and drawn an arrow to the rabbits, writing us! next to it in a familiar scrawl.

“The convenience store snack you wanted. He picked it out himself. Said the rabbits on the packaging were cute,” Nanami said, abruptly standing and marching out of the room, leaving you and Geto alone with the cloth-covered corpse.

“Is that really him?” you said. He removed the hand which rested on your shoulder and stared at it like it held the answers to every one of his problems.

“Yes,” he said. You reached towards the fabric, and Geto did not try to stop you. Perhaps he knew that you would not believe it if you did not see it for yourself, or perhaps he also wanted to confirm it, like the face might’ve changed in the time it had taken for him to cover it up.

It had not. The face belonged to Haibara, there was no doubt about it, though it was blank and dark and bruised in a way you had never seen. He was so animated all of the time, so happy, that the waxy pallor of death was incongruent. His features had dropped into a frown, which was an expression he would never wear on his own, and there was a bloody streak on the fabric where his torso ended and his legs should’ve begun.

“Why?” you said. “Why did it happen like this? He didn’t deserve it. He was better than all of us. So why?”

Why was he dead and you weren’t?

Geto did not respond. You waited and waited, but he never said anything. He just stood there with you in silence, the two of you burning Haibara’s body into your minds, committing it to memory, the exact shade of his hair, the shape of his lips, the curve of his jaw. Then, he turned the lights off and pulled the cloth up over the corpse once again, patting you on the head and leaving you alone.

A few days later, he, too, was gone.

With both Geto and Haibara missing, something in the school changed irrevocably. Gojo didn’t joke around as much anymore. Nanami never smiled. Ieri went through even more cigarettes than usual. You did not leave your room for many days, and when you finally emerged, it was only because Yaga grew tired of caring for Haibara’s dog and someone had to do it.

“Come, Sora,” you said, whistling to call her to your side. She was whining and pawing at the door to Haibara’s empty room, though when you called her, she reluctantly came. None of you had dared to venture inside ever since that day, but every time you took her out on a walk, she begged to be let in. You didn’t fault her — nobody had told her that her owner was dead. She probably thought he just didn’t want her anymore.

Sometimes, you wished you could give Sora away. She was the only one that was still happy, and caring for a creature so reminiscent of Haibara every day was like ripping open the wound daily anew. And this wound, it was one that not even Ieri could heal. It was a wound you doubted would ever heal, so you should at least get rid of whatever kept opening it for you, but you could not do it. A few times, you had tried, going so far as having a manager drop you off in front of a shelter, but every attempt ended with you sitting on the curb and crying as you held her close to you; she, who was the last thing you had left of him.

You still hadn’t eaten the snack he had bought for you. Probably you never would. It sat on your shelf next to the Sword of Syrinx, collecting dust in its place of honor, the us! and the arrow growing faded with time but never erasing completely. The three rabbits still curled together, frozen in happiness, not knowing that one of their group had vanished forever and left the others shattered.

Nowadays, you and Nanami barely spoke. It was too hard, because every good memory you two had together was tied to Haibara, so beyond formalities and school-related business, you did not talk. The last real conversation you had had with him was right after Haibara’s funeral. You had sat together in front of the headstone, and then Nanami had told you he wished he had been the one to die. He said that Haibara would’ve known how to deal with everything afterwards better. You told him that that wasn’t true and that he was dealing with things fine. He told you to stop lying, so you didn’t say anything else. In such a way, you lost both of your best friends at the same time.

“Go play with Yaga now, alright?” you said to the dog, unclipping her leash and shooing her in the direction of his office. She bounded off willingly, tail wagging all the while, and once you were sure she was gone, you got in the car.

“When should I pick you up?” the manager said when you got out in front of a cafe.

“I’ll call for you,” you said. “But not for a while, so feel free to go back to the school in the meantime.”

He made to argue, but you slammed the car door shut in his face, so he had nothing to do but drive off, leaving you standing there by yourself, without even the Sword of Syrinx to accompany you. Digging into your bag and taking out the book you planned on reading, you stepped into the cafe, inhaling the smell of baked goods and coffee and pretending you were a different person. A person not blessed by a hummingbird. A person who had no one to grieve. That kind of a person.

“Will that be all, ma’am?” the barista said when you had finished telling her your order.

“Yes, thank you,” you said. “Oh, I left my purse at my seat! I’ll go grab it so that I can pay. I’ll be right back.”

Internally kicking yourself for being so careless with your things, you snatched your purse up, relieved it hadn’t been taken by someone else, and then you returned to the counter.

“How much will it be?” you asked, rummaging around for your credit card and then brandishing it in front of you as proof that you had money and hadn’t made up the lie about your purse to disguise the fact that you were broke.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said.

“Ah, what?” you said. “I still want my order, though.”

“That man over there paid for you,” she said, pointing behind you. “He’s so handsome, isn’t he? You’re so lucky! If you go over and thank him, I’m sure he’ll definitely ask you out.”

“What?” you said, turning around to see who she was referring to. Your jaw dropped as you made eye contact with him, the wanted mass murderer, the infamous runaway sorcerer, the criminal at large himself.

“Here you go!” the barista said. You were barely aware of yourself taking what you had asked for, your body on autopilot and only regaining some semblance of control when you were face to face with him again.

“Geto,” you said. “What are you doing here? Why did you pay for me?”

“What kind of an upperclassman would I be if I let you pay for yourself while I’m around?” he said, motioning for you to sit across from him. You obliged without complaint.

“You left the school, so you’re not exactly my upperclassman anymore,” you said, crossing your arms, though not before taking a sip of the drink you had gotten.

“If that’s the case, then please call me Suguru,” he said.

“Fine, then. Suguru,” you said. “Let me ask again: what are you doing here?”

“I was in the mood for coffee,” he said, motioning towards his own cup. “For being monkeys, they know their beverages, wouldn’t you say?”

“Monkeys?” you said. He smiled lightly.

“Isn’t that what they are?” he said. “Non-sorcerers, I mean.”

“I see. So that’s how you think of things now,” you said. He was healthier than you had ever seen him. He could be described as happy, even, and you wondered if his new outlook had driven him to actually caring about the world around him, or at least about himself.

“Indeed,” he said.

“Is your plan to enslave all of them or something?” you said with a derisive snort. “Was that what drove your interest in curse theory?”

“I actually mean to kill them,” he said pleasantly. “And yes, it was.”

You gave him a minute, but he made no indication that he was joking. “You’re serious?”

“Certainly,” he said.

“Damn,” you said, shaking your head. “I hope you know that makes us enemies.”

“I’m aware,” he said. “Does that mean you’ll attack me now?”

You considered it before sighing and taking another swig of your drink. “Nope, not this time. It would be rude to attack the person that paid for my stuff.”

“I appreciate your politeness,” he said.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me that day, by the way,” you said. “Ever since Haibara died, it’s been hard to find a point in doing anything.”

This was an improvement. You could say his name without breaking down. Before, even that much made you burst into tears.

“I understand the feeling,” Suguru said.

“That’s how I passed the time. I would lie there and think about it — why was I even fighting? What was the point to being a sorcerer?” you said.

“Did you find an answer?” he said.

“I wouldn’t have brought it up if I hadn’t. Actually, I wouldn’t have brought it up at all, but I promised I would tell you if I ever figured it out, and in the name of our old friendship, I’ll honor that promise,” you said.

“I don’t necessarily need to hear it anymore,” he said. “But if you want to tell me, I will listen.”

“There’s a lot of things I could say. I could tell you I’m doing it to protect people weaker than me, or that I want to save others because I could not save Haibara and Hinode. But, would it matter? Saving other people won’t bring those two back. It won’t change anything. It won’t lessen my sadness; if anything, it’ll only increase it, because nobody can save everyone,” you said.

“That’s true,” he said. “I’ll admit that I am a little curious now. If you’re not doing it to try and be a good person, then why?”

“I want to know,” you said. “There’s things I still can’t understand. Why does the Sword of Syrinx like me so much? Why was I born with an extinct technique? What…what is my reason for existing? I’m a person that has never belonged anywhere, not fully. The school is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a home, and it’s also the place I can most likely find answers to these questions, so until such a day comes that my curiosity has been satisfied, I’ll protect it.”

“And then what will you do?” he said.

“I suppose it depends on what those answers are,” you said with a shrug. “I don’t know yet.”

“Do you really think that the higher ups will help you with what you need?” he said. “You’re not as smart as I thought you were if that’s the case.”

“No, of course not. The higher ups help no one but themselves and the clans,” you said. “But…there is someone. There is someone who I’m meant to find, and they will definitely help me.”

“Who?” Geto said. You pushed your empty dishes towards him and smiled.

“I don’t know yet. I think I’ll recognize them when the time comes,” you said. “Anyways, thank you for the food. I’m sorry we’re on opposite sides now. I wish we could be friends still. Is that be possible?”

“I think it would be best for the both of us if I don’t answer that question,” he said with a soft, sad smile. It was about what I had expected, so I wasn’t even upset by it. I just had needed to ask him once before I gave up entirely. “Farewell, Y/N.”

“Farewell, Suguru. Let’s not meet again,” you said, not glancing backwards as you left the cafe.

Your wish came true — you never did see him again, at least not fully. The next time you both crossed paths, he was already dead.

#kashimo x reader #kashimo x you #kashimo x y/n #canon au #reader insert #hurricanes / hummingbirds #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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morgue-ratt · 2 years

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omg bestie from the dark prompts

Breeding/forced pregnancy with Lester or one of the twins? but lately I've been a huge slut for dark!Lester, @slasherlouvre can confirm

Hello!! And thank you again for the request!!!

I feel like I need to tell you that I wrote some of this at work and actively hiding my journal from my coworkers during my break. Anyways! I hope you enjoy.

Lester Sinclair in Happy Anniversary! /// 632 words

Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, breeding kink, dubcon

LESTER had brought home a cake, a true delicacy from the nearest occupied town. Lemon cake frosted with vanilla buttercream and pretty purple piping that read Six Month Anniversary, Lester and Sweetpea! in swooping script. He’d deemed your transformation from captive to somewhat willing partner worth celebrating and hey, you weren’t about to turn down cake.

It had been six months, half a year since you’d last tried to escape, since you’d been outside this miserable cabin without Lester at your side, keeping a vigilant eye on you. You hadn’t realized it’d been so long since Lester had to tie you to his bed with his belt when he was away at work, giving you a jack o lantern smile as he explained it was all for your own good, someday you’d understand that.

Someday had seemed impossibly far off as you’d tried to worm out of the belt securing you to the headboard but… as it turns out someday had arrived. As you stood at the edge of the bed you helped Lester out of his tee shirt and ran your hands across his torso, bringing your lips to his and deepening the kiss as you unbuttoned his jeans.

Lester laughed; “Eager little thing, don’tcha worry none, sugar. I got whatcha need.”

You both scrambled to get undressed before you fell backwards onto the bed, letting Lester climb on top of you, covering you in his usual sloppy and frenzied kisses before pulling back and looking down at you with an almost starry look on his face. You smiled back nervously; “What?”

“Ya just so damn pretty, can’t blame me fer starin’” He gave you a toothy grin as he fished himself out of his boxers and ran his hand down the length.

“Please Lester,” you pouted. He’d been teasing you all afternoon and you weren’t above begging, ready to cry from frustration.

“Aw, I can never say no to you, can I?” He lined himself up with you and watched your face. “You want this, sugar?” He taunted.

“Yes!” You couldn't keep the desperation out of your voice. “Yes, Lester please. I want you, I need you, please.”

He couldn't hold himself back any longer and thrust into you, relishing your expression. You cried out in pure bliss as you finally had what you wanted. Your name falling from your lips spurred him on even more and he snapped his hips to meet yours, seething himself fully within you.

Watching you moan and feeling you clench so perfectly around him was almost overwhelming. You begging for him, for his touch, for his cock was almost a dizzying contrast to how… difficult you’d been only a few months ago. Lester pulled your hair and your lidded eyes focused on him as he asked; “You want me, sweet pea? You really want me?”

You stumbled over your words, he could barely make out the specifics, just enthusiastic agreement and an almost sinister smirk crossed his face, but you were too lost in pleasure to be worried.

You wanted him. You really wanted him. He buried himself deeper inside you, unable to hold back a moan as you clenched around him. “Fuck, fuck. Yes!” The idea was making him crazy, you pregnant with his kid, showing you off and everyone knowing what it meant. You were his, all his.

Lester couldn't restrain himself any longer and he came deep inside as the final shudders ran through his body. He stayed above you, breathing hard.

You were suddenly taken out of the moment as dread settled in your chest like a dead bird. “Les?” You asked, staring at him with wide eyes. “Lester, what did you you--” You trailed off as you saw his sheepish smirk which gave you all the answers you needed.

#lester sinclair x reader #frenzy scribbles #house of wax #house of wax 2005

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dirty-osc-confessions · 1 year

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tl;dr - I’m trying to specbio figure out how paintbrush would poop for a smut fic even though I don’t even like scat

So I’m writing a slowburn ii fic with a few smut scenes, yeah? (If you know which fic get blasted by my laser) and I’m kinda interested in the specbio of objects. and paintbrush is a main character in said fic. thus

I’ve figured out how to do their pussy (let’s be honest it was kinda difficult) and I’m thinking of just. The whole hole is the pussy, yk? N they were born infertile bcuz of this since no actual connection to the uterus. Maybe they don’t even HAVE one idk

anyway. Here’s my piss kink coming in. I want them to b able 2 pee (bcuz a, hot, b, they’d die without it) and I kinda have that figured out? but then I thought “wait how would they poop”

bcuz like. How would they? There’s not enough room for an anal canal. (This goes for most tall thin objects too, examples being lollipop, silver spoon, etc. this wouldn’t apply to ppl like test tube or microphone tho bcuz they’re thick enough) So my first thought was bird poop (birds can’t pee so actually their poop is a mix of concentrated piss and poop, that’s why it’s multicolored) but I still want them to be able to piss so??? Maybe they’re just stuck with forever diarrhea?? Forever liquid shit??

a.and the thing is. This is a fanfic. I can hand wave this shit (heh) ENTIRELY. I don’t even like scat it’s a hard turn off for me. But I NEED an explanation or I’ll go crazy. Even though I’m willing to handwave like the actual organs I can’t handwave poop. What a world

#mod lightbulb #dirty osc confessions #i think i lost years off my life reading this one thank you anon #i wish you luck on your dookie endeavors

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laughingpinecone · 5 months

Text

Candy hearts exchange 2024 letter

AO3: laughingpineapple (double-checked a-ok for treats as per the recent AO3 update blah blah)

Hello and thank you for writing for me! I hope you’ll have a great time playing with one of these wonderful canons!

I love a wide variety of fics - from the most delicate gen to explicit, any tense, any format, big yes to all kinds of weird experiments up to and including interactive fiction. In general, I love canon expansion (showing new places in the setting or exploring those that are barely mentioned, just outside the borders, and ditto with events), character work of all stripes (expanding on little quirks, putting characters in situations that complement/challenge certain personality traits of theirs, just... observing these weirdos as they live their lives, for better and for worse), magical realism and adjacent approaches. I eat up emotional moments with a spoon when a fic is character-centric (danger! catharsis! hurt/comfort! the nitty-gritty of attraction!) and also love abstract stuff that is not character-centric at all: fake academia, a wider focus, inhuman povs, anything goes.

For both romance and friendships, I love it when it’s clear (not necessarily to the characters themselves, but to the narrative) what they like about each other, how they get along, if and how they trust each other, what’s annoying but worth it, what flaws of the other are they or are they not well equipped to handle... The specificity of each dynamic! I also love it when the characters are very into something that makes sense for them, be it a hobby or a kink or whatever, even if it’s something I may not personally care for.

For art, I love when characters are doing something. I much prefer a simple illustration of a moment in their lives (basic examples: sharing coffee, walking together) to a more ornate symbolic illustration like eg a tarot reimagining.

DNW: non-canonical rape, non-canonical children, focus on children, pregnancies, unrequested ships (background established canon couples are okay, mentions of parents and paired-up OC randos are okay!), canon retellings

GHOST TRICK

Alma/Cabanela/Jowd: Jowd navigating the "whoops turns out I'm bi" part of the whole thing is always fun Alma/Jowd: what's their dynamic, exactly? I'm open to many possibilities, for example an Alma who's just as much of a cosmic pessimist as her esteemed husband! Cabanela & Pigeon Man: unexpected intergenerational friendship of my heart, Cabs is A Lot and Pigeon Man expertly wrangles him. Guess he’s good with birds Cabanela/Jowd: please let them be intensely ridiculous about their attraction Emma & Jowd: double menace pls Jowd & Pigeon Man: what sparked PM's unshakeable devotion toward Jowd? Alma/Cabanela: fashion! and legs! Clothes swap? Some time on their own?

PYRE

Bertrude/Pam: they get each other quietly… anything based on their paired ending, especially Downside? Ignarius & Oralech: I’d just like to weaponize Iggy’s fascination for big survivor demons and point it at an unsuspecting Oralech, for fun Oralech/Tariq: beyond the Scribes' vision… Oralech/Volfred: Downside reunion! How do you let go of all that mis-aimed anger AND mourning? Volfred & Pam: here's a guy who's very pragmatic about reaching his idealistic goals, and a gal who's a trained agent. Or maybe just two teammates after a rite. Volfred/Tariq: Tariq's small attempts at defiance?

DISCO ELYSIUM

Call Me Mañana & Steban: that time when Steban tried to talk Mañana into joining the group and it sounded like he was hitting on him (at least according to Harry, who is, on occasion, an uncannily accurate judge for this sort of thing) was fun! What about a second meeting between them, or would Steban be willing to just sit next to him and talk? DJ Flacio & DJ Mesh & Kim: I just want Kim to meet his loud, vulgar, communist-leaning (according to one line in reply to Harry, at least) heroes. Maybe after he got his shout-out? (Harry and Kim/Harry welcome if you want) Liz/Cindy: Things got very real very fast for Liz at the tribunal, can actual gang member Cindy help her through it or make things worse? Dros & Nilsen: bitter, cancelled old codgers, how unpleasant could they get? I like to picture Nilsen's ghost bothering assorted leftists in the game and Dros could do with the company… Uli/Steban: a Wirrâl session turning intensely homoerotically charged? Anything else turning intensely homoerotically charged (looking at the canon slap, it's kind of what they do)? What Mazov/Nilsen parallel do they see in themselves?

SACRED AND TERRIBLE AIR

Khan & Nilsen: as one of Elysium's famous disappearances (as per a stray line by Lilienne in the game), Nilsen should by all means be part of Khan's special interest. Khan who, for his part, dresses as a dialectical materialist, so did he like what he was reading about Elysium's Most Cancelled? Khan & Tereesz & Jesper: any exploration of their strange, frayed friendship, the ways in which they care for each other, their breaking points, how they're all called to the void… Khan & Zigi: does Khan find him, at the end of the world? Or is Zigi forever out of reach, beyond even the totality of the pale? Or does Khan manage to reach Rodionov's Trench at last, in dreams or otherwise? Mazov/Nilsen: they held hands… any exploration of any part of their lives (first meeting? Nilsen's return from his feral hut era? Reunion in the pale?) and their beliefs and their opposite responses to defeat? Lund sisters & Rodionov: party at the heart of the pale! Tereesz & Frantiček the Brave: echoes, archetypes, feeling the weight of dead revolutionaries and joining the ICP, the same story happening again, once as tragedy twice as farce… Zigi & Nilsen: ngl I need seven seasons and a movie of these two. The dialectical angle is great, the embodiment of the core dialogue between communism and nihilism, the imaginary frenemy angle is great, the ghost story is great, the concerning amount of applicable Breaking Bad memes is also great, and so on…

FULL CORE STATE NIHILIST

Esteban/Hulio: political posturing and transgressiveness bleeding in and out of actual queerness. Any exploration of nihilist, petrofascist Innocentic seat and global superpower Mesque is welcome, as well as the characters' approach to nihilism vis-à-vis Ambrosius'!

PENTIMENT

Gnaziu/Baltas: I love Baltas' whole thing and seriously what is UP with Gnaziu. I thought I'd missed some plot but he's just… hanging out there? How does he spent his days over at Baltas', in this little village so far away from home… Magdalene & Andreas: post-canon letters, maybe even a collaboration on some book to print? Otto & Ulrich: they were my act 2 faves and I just think they're neat? ;^; to Tassing's martyrs, to their kindness…

#WIP #letter

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sunkendreams · 2 years

Note

hi!! first off i really love your writing, i can't get enough! it really makes me happy whenever your works come up on my tumblr, always excited to read whatever you post! 💗

sooo, i was wondering if you could do a vincent smut and/or fluff involving modeling for him? idk if you've ever done that but i think it would be amazing since you write vincent so well!!

┊ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — one-shot.

┊ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒) ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — vincent sinclair x afab!reader.

┊ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — smut/18+! vincent draws you like one of his french girls, vaginal sex, couch sex, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, hint of breeding kink, sliver of scratching, possessive!vincent.

┊ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 3,803.

┊ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — thank you so so much for your request, and thank you so much for the sweet words & compliments, it means so much more than you know! 🥺 this one was so enjoyable to write for and I also took (a lot) of inspiration from titanic lmao, I couldn’t resist the drawing parallels 💀 As always, I hope y’all enjoy! ❣️

┊ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — @peachygothgirl ; @mrs-heelshire ; @slasherfantasy ; @loraxlola ; @the-wordis-bird ; @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @suguruswife ; @mehidktbh ; @lttlegore ; @darklylucid ; @insanitymoshpit ; @callmemeelah ; @the-anxious-youth ; @comicalrage ; @horrorstories123 ; @krakersy ; @dootys ; @bloodwithpeachmilk

There is a sentimental comfort you find in the basement — in Vincent’s menagerie, his sanctuary of warmth and wax. Each night, you slink downstairs to join him in whatever midnight activities he partakes in, whether it’s sculpting or molding, or sexual escapades. Either way, you are beyond happy, and to your delight, Vincent seems happy, too.

An orange luminosity permeates cold concrete, flickering candles and dim overhead lights creating an atmospheric environment that you could bask in. It’s more than comfortable, and Vincent makes it very inviting. The door to the basement is locked and barred, preventing any strangers (or Bo) from entry.

Vincent prefers the exclusivity, the privacy that he shares with you. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s a quiet evening, one of the more serene nights that you’ve had thus far, and you’re watching Vincent mold something from wax, the voluptuous shape of a mermaid. His hands are roughened from the many years of artistry and wear, but he’s unbelievably talented — you find a certain joy in observing Vincent and his knack for the arts.

Sculpting tools allow the statue to take shape, molded underneath the careful movement of Vincent’s hand. Wax-stained digits begin to smooth out any uneven edges or angular bits as he lowers the figure over the flickering light of a candle. Enticing is a mere understatement whenever you watch him work — he is a Picasso in his own right, the Van Gogh of wax.

Perched atop a stool to his right, you keep a sliver of distance, allowing him to work unhindered until he finds a good stopping point, placing the nearly-completed statuette atop a piece of canvas. The detail is immaculate, right down to the intricate carvings of the mermaid’s shimmering scales and individual lines of her hair.

“It’s gorgeous,” You hum, feeling Vincent lean against you, shoulder to shoulder. “Is there anything that you can’t do?” You muse, nose wrinkling in amusement. There’s a spark of warmth within his gaze as he shrugs, sitting upright.

Turning the statuette around atop the canvas, Vincent cocks his head to one side, eyes carefully raking over in an attempt to pick apart imperfections. He has the cautionary, scrutinizing eyes of an artist, and watching him squint is nothing short of amusing. With a breathy, relaxed sigh, Vincent angles his body toward you, the distance rather slim.

‘I’m sure there are things I can’t do,’ Vincent signs, always emotive and evocative of whatever he feels, amusement channeled into the flourished movement of his hands. ‘Would you be willing to model for me tonight?’ He inquired, head still tilted to one side. You’ve done it before, but you aren’t always in the mood for it — he understands.

Your lips tug into a smitten smile, and you nod. Vincent has asked you on many occasions to model, and you have, but it never fails to make you unbelievably flustered. He puts you on this pedestal, like you’re on some pinnacle above him, touts about your perfection endlessly. It doesn’t bother you whatsoever, but you often feel undeserving.

Vincent does very little to conceal his delight, immediately abandoning his little wax project in order to tend to you. He’s beginning to amass a hefty collection of drawings, paintings, sketches of you — some would consider it obsessive, and Vincent is keenly aware of such a sentiment. He knows how he feels about you.

Moving off of the rickety chair, Vincent motions toward the collection of furniture shoved into one corner. ‘You can decide on pose and whatnot. I just want to draw you.’ He’s shameless in admitting to such a thing. The longer the two of you have been together, the more comfortable Vincent has become in speaking his mind, in expressing exactly what he feels.

You are far more beautiful than any piece of wax, than any painting he’s conjured up. In his eyes, you are a masterpiece, perfection incarnate, and he constantly honors you in this way through his art. Vincent feels as if that’s what you deserve — to be immortalized.

Each artistic session you share with him only pushes the two of you closer together, and Vincent wouldn’t want it any other way. It’s deeply intimate for reasons that he can’t quite pick apart yet, but the answer is nearing the tip of his tongue.

Vincent wandered toward a storage shelf, removing one of his many sketchbooks, equipped with an untold amount of drawing utensils. Busying himself with finding the proper medium, you wander toward the couch that he’s drawn you on so very often, dragging it out just a ways to make room.

You’re getting settled when some idea comes creeping into the back of your mind, festering within your brain like a plague. It’s far from wholesome — in fact, it’s completely lascivious. Chewing at your cheek, you know he’ll be receptive to it, maybe even encourage it. Turning the thought over within your mind, you can feel your fingers roaming toward the hem of your blouse.

Peeling the soft fabric aside, you occupy yourself with undressing, hoping to surprise Vincent by the time he turns back around. It’s exhilarating, this feeling — he’s seen you undressed so many times, but this feels different, it feels so very personal. Admittedly, the thrill you receive is intoxicating, and you’re inclined to experience it over and over again.

Draping your clothing at the foot of the couch, you’re down to your undergarments, gaze fluttering toward Vincent’s back. His dark tresses fall like a waterfall around his shoulders, tall form still glued to the shelves. To you, he is painfully beautiful — there’s a softness that he reserves just for you.

In the midst of unclasping the colored brassiere, Vincent turns around, catching you in your disrobed state, breath audibly hitching within his throat. He wasn’t really expecting such a thing, chest tightening with a flurry of anticipation and excitement, his mouth becoming dry. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from you, not yet.

Enticed and filled with a newfound anticipation, Vincent’s face is unbearably hot beneath the mask, his singular eye tracing across the planes of your body, every blemish, every curve. You don’t undress completely — there’s one last garment standing between you and an unclad state.

Meeting Vincent’s lascivious stare, you find yourself feeling warm underneath the intensity of it. As you settle down onto the sofa, goosebumps begin to creep along your spine, the tension now charged with something amorous.

“Is this okay?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, teeth gnashing at the inside of your cheek.

Vincent nods, but he’s hesitant, seemingly contemplating what to say. Tucking the sketchbook underneath his arm, pencil placed into one of his apron pockets, he breaks out into a series of deliberate signs, ‘Take everything off.’ As soon as his hands drop, he’s bristling with eagerness, watching your breath hitch, lips falling agape.

Even without an ounce of verbal communication, you can feel the sensuality of his words. Your mouth becomes dry, chest swelling with a wave of want as your fingers hook into the frilly hem of your panties. As you drag the material down the length of your legs, Vincent watches in subtle awe, planting himself down into the chair in front of you.

Lifting his apron off over his head, Vincent drapes the tool-laden piece across the back of his seat, sketchbook in his lap. He almost looks a little uncomfortable, but in all actuality, Vincent is restraining himself to the maximum. He wants you so bad, and you made it so much harder to focus.

Without instruction, you sprawl out across the chaise lounge as best as you can, attempting to assume some evocative pose, even if it’s awkward for you. You’re beautiful — you’re nothing short of completely and utterly perfect, exposed and vulnerable before him. Admittedly, you’re a little nervous about this, but Vincent doesn’t seem bothered whatsoever.

He shifts within the velvet seat, painfully hard within his pants, but Vincent tries his best to ignore it for now, placing pencil to paper, partially hiding behind his hair. It’s unusual for Vincent to get flustered, especially with how many times he’s seen you naked, but he is this time — it’s almost an involuntary response.

You force yourself to relax, sinking into the cushions as Vincent moves the pencil across paper, occasionally ogling you to capture each feature of your body, every minuscule detail that he can obtain. He wonders if every artist felt this way when painting a beautiful woman, but in his eyes, you are a masterpiece incarnate, and even art couldn’t change that.

Keeping still, your gaze rakes over Vincent’s rigid posture, and that’s when you notice the large tent in his pants, nearly concealed by the hem of his sweater. It makes you feel hot, and he adjusts himself again, poised forward in a state of concentration. There is a silence that drifts between the both of you, but it’s comfortable, wrought with anticipation.

Vincent can barely think straight, let alone draw. His artwork of you is always as close to perfection as he can get, but this time, it’s lackluster. Frustration intermingled with arousal seems to take over, and you watch his hand stutter, his one, glistening eye boring right into yours.

You tilt yourself in his direction, purposefully revealing much of your body — Vincent huffs, audible enough for your lips to twitch into a tiny smile. Again, his salacious, searing stare seems to burn right through you, shamelessly consuming every inch of your flawless physique as he continues to draw. Granted, he is so, so very distracted, distracted by you.

Both need and desire begin to violently swell inside of you, and staying still becomes extremely challenging to the point where your head is spinning, too. As much as you revel in Vincent drawing you, making you feel unbelievably special, you want him too — you want him now.

His hand begins to slow down, and your mouth parts to speak, stomach sloshing with an excitable notion. You want him too, your own desire rivaling his as you twist atop the couch. “Kiss me.” You breathe, wanting to forget about the artwork for now.

You’ve never seen Vincent move so fast before.

A man full of desperation, Vincent clamors forward, practically rushing toward you, standing beside the plush sofa as he bears down upon you. His hands are everywhere, so big and warm, covered in the remnants of a waxy film as he kneads into your chest. He’s wedged right in between your legs, his breathing heavy and throaty as he pries the mask aside.

With a bruising, needy kiss, Vincent is helplessly rocking into you, his erection stiff and prominent, throbbing right into your inner thigh. As your hands come to tangle into his hair, you moan into his mouth, your cunt clenching pathetically around absolutely nothing. He’s barely touched you yet, and he’s driving you wild.

He’s a meticulous lover, more than eager to place your needs above his own. Ever the gentleman, his mouth gingerly pries away from yours, leaving behind a string of saliva in the wake of making out with him. Careful, lustful kisses are planted along your collarbone, between your breasts, across your stomach as Vincent makes his way down toward what he really wants.

For a man of his stature, tall and gracefully lanky, he’s all contorted and squeezed toward the end of the lounge, easing you up into more of a sitting position. His hands come to rest atop your thighs, spreading you apart as his kisses become heated, leaving hickeys against your hips.

“Take your sweater off,” You exhale, your voice openly reflecting your exhilaration as you reach for the woolen garment, tugging at the scratchy fabric. “Please.” There is a desperation within your voice that doesn’t go ignored, as Vincent stops enough for your hands to go tangling around the hem.

Pulling it upward, Vincent is complacent in its removal, exposing his bare, scarred torso, taut with a lean musculature. He isn’t stereotypically built, which is what you enjoy the most. As soon as you toss it over the arm of the lounge, Vincent’s mouth is back on you, gracing the silky flesh of your inner thighs, kissing you wherever he can reach.

His hands knead and grope at your hips, molding you within his palms as if you were made just for him, like two pieces of a puzzle. Vincent is both passionate and endlessly needy, continuing to press kisses all along your thighs, mouth nearing your cunt. Swiping his tongue along your slit, you quiver and jolt within his grasp, hands gripping at both his hair and shoulder.

Vincent is slow to rush in tasting your slick core, savoring you instead in the way that you deserve, a sensual worship that leaves you absolutely ravenous. As he pushes you up against the arm of the lounge, his visage disappears between your legs, and you can feel the want and vigor of his tongue in one heated wave.

He eats your cunt like a starving man, as if he won’t ever get to taste you again — it makes you melt, and you do, melting like the wax that he surrounds himself in. Vincent is a flickering fire, and you are more than willing to let yourself burn, succumbing to the flames.

Twisting your digits into his disheveled tresses, you involuntarily jolt and rock yourself into his mouth, a throaty growl ripping through his throat. You shudder, enthralled and at his mercy as your head lags forward, nails digging into his broad shoulder.

“Vincent,” You moan, knee squeezing near his shoulder, the other almost dangling off of the sofa completely. Your paramour is buried between your thighs, tongue greedily swiping across your cunt, collecting every drop of slick that you give him. “Vince.” You mewl, biting down upon your lower lip.

Throaty hums escape him in droves, drifting into the quiet hum of the basement. Your skin feels feverishly warm as you sigh his name, endless murmurs of euphoric passion as he drags his mouth all over your slit. Vincent is nothing short of sloppy and messy, practically salivating at the taste of you, big hands massaging into the swell of your hips.

Possessiveness is laced into every touch, every flick of his tongue, and you’re nearly paralyzed when his eye flutters up toward you, locking in a stare. He carefully dips his mouth toward the apex of your thighs, lips pursing right around your clit — the stare never breaks, but it most definitely intensifies.

With a choked whimper, your body quivers as he begins to suck at your clit, stimulating that sensitive clutch of nerves that sits at the hood of your cunt. Vincent is ravenous, making a myriad of lewd noises that send shockwaves right into the pit of your gut.

A rush of heat follows, and you’re clinging onto him, on the verge of begging for a release as he mouth-fucks you, fingertips gracing every inch of flesh that he can reach. Vincent never fails to make you feel absolutely incredible, weak in the knees and head over heels — the way he eats you out is obsessive, and he would’ve been perfectly content with staying between your legs for the rest of his life.

Vincent could see the look in your eyes — the surprise, the mounting anticipation, and the adoration. It was everything he’d ever needed, everything he’d ever wanted. You were moaning and whining, high-pitched and wanton as your legs haplessly squeezed toward his head, but you intended to be gentle.

“Close,” You huffed, nearly crying out when Vincent sucked at your clit, warm tongue lashing out across your cunt, filling you with such blissful sensations. Every inch of you was clawing for release, begging to let go, but you were thrilled for what would come afterwards. “Vincent!” You squeaked when he flicked his tongue over your clit.

He loved watching you like this, watching you quiver and come undone, your orgasm splitting right through you like a hot flash of lightning. Vincent was rewarded with the spoils, purring with contentment and delight as he cleaned you up. His strong hands continued to carefully knead at your hips, keeping you planted against his face until he’d finished lapping at your slit.

With a half-lidded stare, Vincent licked at his lips, reveling in the taste of your slick as he positioned himself between your legs, hastily wrestling with the front of his pants. He worked quickly, his cock aching and throbbing, slathered in precum as he freed his erection, rutting into your thigh a time or two.

Locking your lips together in a brazen, bruising kiss, you could taste yourself on Vincent’s tongue, not that it bothered you. He groaned into your mouth, cock sliding against your slick cunt, pulsating with heat and arousal as he prepared to slip himself inside of you.

He was big — the biggest you’ve ever had, and so the excitement rode high whenever he rutted into your slit, one hand braced against the arm of the couch for support. Vincent’s other palm was splayed out along your waist, holding you tight as he began to snap his hips forward. Not a second was wasted as his cock began to pump in and out of you.

“Perfect.”

The husky, throaty lull of his voice split past the breathy silence and gentle groans as he fucked you with more of a steadier, heady rhythm. There was an inherent lack of roughness, but Vincent was spurred on with plenty of passion — he had much to give to you as his cock seamlessly slapped in and out of your cunt.

You could get drunk on the sound of his voice, both horribly raspy and guttural, but his voice nonetheless. Vincent spoke with a reverence that he only gave to you, shamelessly worshiping you with his gaze alone. There was a flurry of shock that rattled you to your core, but it only made you all the more needy, hands sliding to hold onto the sinewy muscle of his biceps.

From there, it all seemed to accelerate so quickly — each snap of his hips drove his cock deeper into you, until he couldn’t go any further. He was stretching you, fucking you in all of the right ways, stooping down to steal countless kisses, over and over again, until you were nearly rendered breathless.

You were clinging to him like a drowning woman, your legs squeezing at his hips, coaxing him closer until his body nearly flushed with yours, chest to chest. Every kiss sets your nerves ablaze, like fire and ice stinging through you, each caress, each touch completely and utterly enthralling.

“More,” You breathe, lazily rolling your hips into his groin, listening to him groan in tandem. Vincent’s mouth clamors to your neck, pressing a string of kisses and hickeys there, scraping across your flesh, taking you in like a breath of fresh air. “Vincent.” You squeak when he sucks at a spot next to your jugular.

A softer grunt escapes him, and he obliges you, forehead careening into yours as he begins to pick up his speed, flesh against flesh as he kisses you again. Vincent’s teeth snag against your lower lip, drawing out a breathy moan from you as you keep your legs spread apart, hips bucking into his.

Vincent’s domineering edge is prevalent, bubbling to the surface as he really begins to pound his way inside of you, cock battering your cunt with more of a force behind it. There is a trace of roughness, but it’s all hot and passionate instead, driven by want and by lust.

Maintaining a strong, ironclad grip upon your hips, Vincent ruts into you like a man possessed, grunts and growls ripping through his chest, his lips seeking yours again and again. You reciprocate each entanglement with a flurry of passion, hitching one leg up around his hips, and that’s what drives him crazy.

Your hands are skirting everywhere, tracing over his biceps, feeling along the pale musculature of his chest, letting your palms settle just above his ribcage. Nails lightly dig into his skin, a pleasurable sensation that only encourages Vincent’s fucking. It becomes tantalizingly slow — he’s loving, yet it’s rather intense, it’s obsessive, possessive.

“Want you to cum in me,” You whimper, feeling his hips stutter, breath hitching as his head lags forward. You swore you heard Vincent moan, and it turns your stomach into a pile of mush, numb and weightless as his thrusting becomes slightly erratic. “Please.” You’re begging now, wrapped up within the moment.

Vincent can’t fathom just how perfect you are — it feels like some fantasy that’s surfaced at the forefront of his mind, but as you lay underneath him, flesh and blood and warmth, he knows that his dreams are reality. You’re a masterpiece, a goddess incarnate.

Pressing another heated kiss to your lips, Vincent ruts into you again, cock stuffed into your cunt as he reaches his orgasm. It’s sticky and wrought with wistfulness, but he’s wonderfully gentle at the end, cumming inside of you without another thought.

The aftermath was always the most blissful moment — serene and very warm, and in the low, orange light of the basement, you were glowing. Vincent pulled out of you not long after, his hand moving to cup your cheek, pressing tender, sweet kisses against your face and neck, reaching down toward your collarbone.

“Did you want to finish your drawing?” You mumble, nose wrinkling in amusement as you nestle close to him, flush against one another. His shower of affection is beyond endearing, and you keep an arm draped around his neck.

Vincent’s little chuckle is throaty and hoarse, but he’s ogling you with a twinkle in his eye. ‘It’s only a rough sketch,’ He signs, his expression cheeky, ‘Would you be open to trying again tomorrow?’

You giggle — he’s certainly got his mischievous side, and you wonder if that’s from Bo, the sudden streak of flirtatiousness. Either way, you don’t mind whatsoever, idly caressing his cheek. “I’ll do it again,” You muse, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Just for you, because I love you so much.” There’s an adoration in your smile that you let loose.

‘I love you.’

Such sentimental emotions are felt even through signing, but with Vincent, a kiss accompanies it as he presses his lips against yours. The entanglement is enough to render you speechless, full of an incendiary sensuality that leaves you reeling, wanting so much more. With a dopey smile, you take a moment to compose yourself, cupping one side of his face with your palm.

“I know.”

#vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x you #slasher x you #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #house of wax #house of wax fanfic #house of wax smut #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair fanfic #slasher fandom #sunkendreams masterlist

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aemonds-sapphire · 3 years

Text

Coffee Run - Hawks x Reader (Smut)

Summary: Hawks simply wanted to enjoy his coffee in peace, but you had needs of your own, especially knowing he was entering his rut. You know what they say... be careful with what you wish for, because you just might get it.

Warnings: NSFW. Rut!Hawks. Feral Hawks. Public sex. Breeding kink. Pregnancy kink. Lactation kink (brief mention). Featherplay. Slight overstimulation.

Word count: 3.7k

Hawks was nearing his rut. That much was clear. Keeping up an easy going appearance was what he excelled at, until he hit that particular time of the year. Until he was forced to take that medication that would suppress his primal instinct to breed.

But rarely anything in this world came without bearing unpleasant consequences.

“I’ll just have the usual. Thanks.”

The young waitress then turned to you expectantly. “And you, miss?”

You pondered for a second as you eyed the pro hero sitting in front of you. To anyone oblivious to the changes occurring in his body they might think he was just not a morning person.

An idea popped in your mind all of a sudden.

“I’ll have a strawberry lollipop,” you finally said, causing Hawks to briefly lift his eyes from the phone in his hand. “What? I have a sweet tooth.”

The waitress nodded and walked away. He was still glaring at you, one fuzzy eyebrow slightly arched.

“Just that? It’s not a proper breakfast.”

“Neither is coffee, yet here we are.”

He shrugged at your response, shifting his attention back to his phone.

Coffee was his personal mood booster. It was dangerous to demand anything from a rutting Hawks until he had drunk an unhealthy amount of it.

The sun was barely out, and that was exactly why he’d choose this café. Only a few people would be there, which meant he wouldn’t have to deal with loud fans walking up to him and asking for selfies or autographs... or even hugs. It was perfect to hide from everyone how moody and snappy he could get in times like these.

But you figured he still wasn’t taking the medication. He always dreaded it because of how groggy and lethargic it’d leave him.

“You okay?”

He had his index finger flicking up and down on the screen. “Sure.”

But what Hawks didn’t know was that... well... you knew what why he was acting so unlike him.

Soon after, the waitress came back with a large cup of coffee and your lollipop that you promptly snatched from the tray with a smile.

Hawks mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ and you watched him take a few gulps of the hot beverage, while you removed the wrapping.

He sighed in pure relief as his huge wings vibrated from the instant pleasure. “I really needed this.”

You also reckoned he needed something else.

Sliding the round candy in your mouth, you propped your chin on interlaced fingers, regarding him quizzically.

“Is that all you need?”

The apparent innocent question had his golden eyes meet yours. However, you needed them to travel south, so you parted your lips seductively and dangled the lollipop from one corner of your mouth to the other with your tongue.

Bingo.

Hawks’ eyes dropped to your mouth in an instant, taking in the sight of you skilfully twirling the stick while letting out some lewd wet sounds.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what? I love sucking...” you said innocently.

The cup in his hand cracked lightly from his tight grip, and a faint frown settled on his beautiful face.

“You sure you okay?”

For someone who was able to maintain an wavering smile not matter the circumstances, Hawks really was falling behind his reputation. Maybe it wasn’t wise for you to keep pushing him like this. All the innuendos and teasing would eventually get him to snap.

You kept on sucking and licking the hard candy happily, eyeing your boyfriend with utmost interest.

He took another sip of his hot coffee, and you noticed his pupils were slightly dilated. Undoubtedly, the visual of you sucking on something was a enough to spark his arousal.

“Hmm... this tastes so good...” you moaned softly, fluttering your eyes shut for a brief moment. “Want to taste it?”

When he didn’t reply, you decided to take it up a notch. You kicked off your shoe and moved it to touch his leg.

He arched an eyebrow.

Slowly, you began sliding it up his leg and only stopped once you’d reached his inner thigh.

“Stop...”

You let the round candy caress your bottom lip, making sure he could see strings of your saliva sliding down to coat your tongue. Mustering a bit more courage, you dragged your feet until it reached his crotch.

Hawks was hard as a rock.

“You’re so warm...” you whispered, rubbing your foot against his cock.

You could tell he was about to snap.

“Hawks? Honey, look! It’s Hawks!”

You quickly turned your head to look at a young couple that was approaching your table. It couldn’t be avoided. Even in the early hours there would always be someone who was a fan of Hawks.

Hawks was forced to regain his composure, and you figure it was taking every single fibre in his body to produce his trademark unwavering grin.

The woman seemed a little hesitant at first. “Are we interrupting something? I’m so sorry... we are big fans.”

“You are such an inspiration to us,” the man added with excitement.

“Thank you!” Hawks beamed, his beautiful features never betraying what was going on under the table. “Want an autograph?”

She quickly nodded, rummaging through her purse to get a pen. “Our baby will love you, too. We’ll make sure of that.”

Hawks visibly swallowed. “Baby?”

“Yes! We found out we’re going to be parents last week.”

You side-eyed him closely. Inwardly, you started cackling in delight, knowing far too well this was one of Hawks’ most intimate triggers. It was far too obvious that being in his rut made it all much worse for him

“Congratulations! How is everything going?” you inquired sweetly, applying gentle pressure on his covered erection with your toes.

He shifted in his seat, doing his best to cope with the sudden stimulation coming from you.

The woman seemed taken aback by your kindness and quickly bowed her head while handing the pen to Hawks.

“Oh, the morning sickness can be quite draining, but otherwise I can’t complain.”

Her partner handed Hawks a copy of a magazine that had him on the cover. He blushed awkwardly. “She keeps it in her purse in case we run into you so we can get an autograph.”

“That’s awesome,” he said genuinely, his voice slightly strained as he drew his signature on it. “Thanks for the support.”

The couple retrieved the magazine and bowed to both of you before walking away.

“That is so cool...” you said, twirling the lollipop stick in between your thumb and index finger. “I wonder what it feels like being pregnant.”

Hawks moved your foot away from his crotch. “Bathroom. Now.”

Your mouth fell open at his sudden outburst, sliding your foot back into your shoe. “Why?”

He rose to his full height as his red wings quivered slightly. “I’m done with you.”

Placing the hard candy back on its wrapping, you gulped as you followed his lead. The café had started to get more clients, and some of them shot a few glares at the winged hero.

The waitress was eyeing both of you. “Is everything okay?”

Hawks shot a brief smile. “She’s not feeling well.”

He certainly had a way to have things go his way.

She looked at yo worriedly. “Should I get help?”

Hawks hurried you into the bathroom, before adding. “She’s with the number two pro hero. I’m all the help she needs.”

Point taken.

Hawks pulled you into a small cubicle, shutting the door with a kick. You heard the lock rattle and you took the opportunity turn around to face him. His massive wings struggled to fit inside the confined space, which caused him to look more menacing as they coiled up against his body.

“You’re rutting.”

His pupils were fully blown and you briefly saw something flash in his eyes. “Of course you know.”

“I know a lot of things,” you cooed, dragging down one hand to squeeze him through his pants. “You’re not taking your medication.”

You’d been dating Hawks for a few months now, and you found out that he went through a rut every year by mere chance. It didn’t take long for you to connect the dots after hearing a phone conversation between him and someone from the commission — you assumed it was a doctor —, who insisted that Hawks had to take the hormonal suppressant medication to lessen the effects, allowing him to function properly.

“I don’t fucking need it,” he snarled at you through gritted teeth.

“I think you do... if you’re so willing to fuck me in a public bathroom,” you whispered seductively, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “I wonder what made you snap... was it the conversation about pregnancy... or—��

Hawks had had enough of your running your mouth, and with little effort on his part, he flipped you over so that you were now pressed against the bathroom sink, a tall mirror capturing your surprised expression along with his feral one.

“No, little bird...” he growled, hooking his gloved fingers in the belt loops of your pants. “I am not gonna fuck you. I’m gonna breed you.”

It was a dark promise, and one you knew he could keep. After all, that was the purpose of a rut: to breed. Every single cell in his body was prepared for this, and you couldn’t bring yourself to pretend this sudden shift in Hawks’ demeanor didn’t make your pussy clench.

Your hands were supporting your weight by gripping the edge of the cold material of the sink, and you tentatively leaned forward in an attempt to brush against his crotch.

Hawks slid one hand to your front, effectively undoing your pants. “You’re ovulating... fuck...”

That caught by surprise. “What...”

He shifted his body on top of yours, so he could nuzzle your neck, capturing your scent.

“I can smell it... fuck...fuck... you need to be bred...”

In one swift motion, he yanked your pants down. Hawks was usually so much more gentle with you during sex; this was definitely something unexpected, but that you couldn’t stop yourself from yearning.

On the other hand, you considered his words for a moment. Did he really mean it? Did he really want to knock you up, or was this just his hormones talking?

Either way, this was turning you on beyond belief, and you decided to egg him on.

“You want to breed me?”

He was nipping at your neck, causing a few of his moans to be heard. You could feel the hard print of his cock pressed against the curve of your ass, and as you bucked your hips instinctively you felt his own meet you halfway, setting a slow rhythm.

“I need to knock you up... I need you tummy all swollen with my baby,” the young man kept mumbling more to himself than to you, but you couldn’t get enough of it. “I need your... your...”

A gush of wetness leaked out of your pussy as you felt him fumbling with his belt. Through the reflection in the mirror, you could see a faint blush settling on his face, increasing his handsomeness by a tenfold — you didn’t even know how that was possible.

“My what...” your voice came out in a low mewl, keeping your hips swaying at a steady pace.

Hawks undid his pants at once, and gave your ass cheeks a few slaps with his leaking cock.

He gripped your hip tightly. “Let me see your tits...”

You kept yourself balance on one hand as the other dragged the fabric of your shirt up, rolling it just above your breasts. Hawks released his cock, bringing his hips forward to have it slide between your round cheeks; you could start to feel the wetness coating your skin and standing your panties as he kept humping you. His free hand moved to grasp your bra, jerking the material down and finally exposing your hardening nipples.

Hawks heaved a deep breath, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looked at your body through the mirror.

“Can’t wait until they get bigger... full of milk... leaking for me...” he brushed his gloved thumb across your sensitive nipple, causing it to harden even more. “I bet it will taste so good... so sweet... you know I love sweet things.”

Your mind was going blank from all the pleasure being delivered to you at once. From his cock slowly fucking your ass cheeks all the way to the way he was glaring at you through some public bathroom mirror while spitting out the filthiest things you had ever heard him utter.

He snapped his hips hard for a split second, almost causing you to lose balance, forcing you to grip the sink with both hands, eyes still fixed on the way your breasts bounced softly along with each shove from him.

Slowly, he dragged his hand to your lower abdomen, massaging it with spread fingers. “Fuck... I need to feel it getting swollen... gonna knock you up so good.”

Streaks of precum were sliding down your cheeks, leaving wet trails behind and sending jolts of pleasure running down your spine.

“Sorry, but I’m gonna make you cum fast,” he suddenly said.

You weren’t really sure why he was apologizing for that, or even how he intended to achieve such feat. Hawks was more than capable of pleasuring women, but even the most skilled man certainly had his limitations when it came to how fast they could make a woman reach her high.

Even so, apologizing for giving someone an orgasm probably ranked up high with the likes of “Sorry, but I’m going to give you a new house” or “Sorry, but I’m going to give you an unlimited supply of money”. Out of all the things he could feel sorry for — like desperately banging you in some public bathroom, for example—, that one should be the least of his concerns.

As if reading the skepticism splattered across your face, he gave you a knowing smile, and before you could even wonder what he meant by that you felt something poking your covered clit.

What the...

“Hawks!”

You didn’t expect desperate Hawks to play fair, but this was on another level. The fabric covering your soaked pussy was being pulled to the side, and in no time a velvety object started proving your pulsing clit.

He was using his feathers.

Now you knew what he meant by making you cum fast, the bastard. The sensation was overwhelming, and you vaguely wondered why he had never tried this before.

“Shh... I need you to cum first, so I can have your pussy milking my cock,” he pressed a kiss on your neck. “Be a good girl and keep your voice down.”

With one hand still caressing your tummy and the other squeezing one breasts softly, you tried hard to bite back your moans as his feather kept stroking your clit as he commanded.

You started panting heavily, drunk in pleasure. “I... I... Hawks...”

Seeing that you weren’t going to be able to keep quiet, he brought the hand on your breast to clamp it over your mouth.

“You’re so ready for me... I can feel the vibrations through my feather... you’re throbbing so much for me, baby...”

And it was the absolute truth. Your were absolutely sure his feather was already drenched in your juices, but you didn’t care at all. A few more flicks and strokes sent your hips into auto-pilot, trying to get more friction.

Long and drawn out moans erupted from your throat only to be muffled by his gloved hand.

You could feel something in your core swirling and shifting and through the haze of passion, you could tell it was the tension building up inside you that was reaching a dangerous peak.

“Good girl... t-that’s my girl... getting ready for me to breed her...”

His dirty talk served as the perfect incentive for you to get closer and closer to the edge. You saw your vision begin to tunnel and suddenly you fell headfirst into the explosion of pleasure that had your arms and legs shake violently, and you thanked the heavens that Hawks’ body was pressed against yours, or you’d have sunk to your feet.

But before your pussy could stop contracting around nothing, you felt your body being pushed forward and in one quick slide, his cock was buried deep inside you.

Hawks’ hips faltered for a second as he adjusted to your tightness. “Fuck!”

The feather brushing your clit stopped its ministrations, and as your field of vision started clearing, you saw it hovering in front of your face. It was completely covered in your juices and a few droplets dripped onto the sink. His hand fell to grip your hip, and your lips immediately parted in a silent scream as overstimulation took over.

“Keep it open... lick... lick it...” he groaned, his voice strained and shaky as his cock endured your contractions.

You extended your tongue out, allowing is feather to drag along it, pooling your wetness on your tongue.

Hawks’ reflection shivered before your eyes at the newfound source of pleasure. “F-fuuuck... just like that...”

His wings fluttered as so did the feather stroking your muscle, and even though your orgasm had already subsided, the never ending stimulation from his thick cock hitting deep inside you was just too much.

“I’m gonna lose it! Fuck!” he nearly cried out, ad you could only pray that no one could hear him outside.

Your knees bucked weakly as he snapped his hips into you once, twice and again closing in on his own release, but the moment you ran your tongue over the sensitive extension of his body you knew he was done for. He bucked up to meet your hips in an especially sharp thrust and you could feel the hot gush of his cum deep inside you, coating your trembling walls, mixing with your own juices.

He hadn’t lasted long, but you weren’t at all surprised, considering how much the vast array of different stimuli that he was subjected to in such a sort amount of time.

A few seconds ticked by, and he finally began pulling out, you pussy reflexively clamping around him as if to make him stay.

“Stop clenching like that before I get hard again...” he warned, giving your ass a soft smack as he slid out completely with a loud slurping sound.

You whimpered softly as emptiness filled you instead. As you were about to straighten yourself, you felt a blob of cum threading to spill, and Hawks promptly kept you leaning forward.

“I didn’t just fill you with a big load for you to waste it all,” and with that, he dragged the tip of his cock along your leaking pussy and pushed it back inside. “There you go... all stuffed again.”

The head of his cock didn’t stay inside you for long, and once he slid out you reached for paper from the dispenser hanging on the wall.

He grabbed your arm. “No.”

“I need to clean myself...”

“No, you don’t,” Hawks whispered sweetly into your ear, and you felt him tug at your panties before letting the fabric slap your over sensitive clit. “You’re gonna be a good girl and keep it all in.”

Your eyes widened in shock. Certainly, he didn’t mean that....

“Hawks... I can’t walk around with your cum dripping from me,” you stated as a matter of fact.

You saw his reflection in the mirror; he had a devious smile dancing on his lips, making your insides coil in sudden realization.

“Didn’t you want me to breed you? Then keep my cum inside your tight pussy,” he began, planting soft caring kisses on the side of your neck in between. “Think you can do that for me, beautiful?”

Feeling your panties sticking to your swollen lips with the aftermath of both your juices and drops of his cum made a shiver run down you entire body.

You nodded once.

Suddenly, he bent over slightly to grasp the waistband of your pants, quickly dragging them up your thighs.

“Time to go,” he huffed as one of his gloved hands brushed along his unruly golden locks of hair. “This was just meant to be a quick coffee run.”

There was a faint smudge of pink crossing his nose and resting on both his cheeks. He looked positively less tense, with his blush being the only indicator that he had just emptied his balls deep inside you.

He unlocked the door and exited first, but not before shooting his Hawks-like smile at you. “I’ll be going ahead to pay and deal with the fans.”

You chuckled as the door closed, and turned to look at your reflection in the mirror while adjusting your clothes. “Well... don’t look at me like that. He’s impossible to resist, especially like this...”

After you were done washing your hands, you took a few steps immediately feeling a few drops of cum dripping onto your panties. You clenched your pussy hard in the hopes of preventing more from spilling.

This was not going to end well.

Taking a deep breath, you walked out and were met with the waitress. “Oh! Are you alright now?”

Yeah, I just got fucked hard and I have cum leaking from me. “Yes! Thank you, and sorry for leaving like that... I really wasn’t feeling well.”

She nodded in understanding, stepping aside to let you walk into the lobby only to see a loud commotion of people piling up around something. Big massive turfs of scarlet feathers quickly gave it away and you smiled fondly.

Hawks.

A few girls standing nearby were giggling to each other, catching your attention.

“Oh my... he’s so much more handsome up close,” one said with a dreamy sigh.

“His wings are so pretty...” the other murmured.

Yes. Hawks had that effect on nearly everyone he crossed paths with. In one way or another, people had the tendency to fall fo him and be drawn by his quirky personality. Even if at the end of the day, once he got home, you could see the wearing effects of having to keep up with this society’s standards.

As the crowd began to disperse, he waved a hand at you.

“It was so nice to have you here, Hawks,” the young waitress blurted out as you two made your exit. “Please come again!”

The number two pro hero bowed his head and gave her a thumbs up. “I’m sure I will. Very soon,” he winked at you.

Very poor choice of words.

Masterlist

#hawks smut #hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x you #mha hawks #bnha hawks #tw: breeding #tw: lactation #tw: pregnancy #takami keigo #mha smut #bnha smut #hawks scenarios #hawks imagine #hawks headcanons #hawks x y/n

4K notes · View notes

oworiio · 3 years

Text

(greasy) gamer boy chifuyu scenarios + visuals.

cw: 🔞 ! discord, reddit, masturbation, pet play, vaginal sex, anal play (?), thigh riding, daddy kink, cock warming, exhibition, blowjobs. nicknames: master, puppy, daddy, baby.

tagging: @tooweirdforyou, @takenyoomies, @chloe-nanami, @baji-san.

— note: this might be rushed... & not proof read like always oops.

You met him purely by chance, needing more friends to play games with. Stumbling upon 'Gaming and Anime.' Perfect! You loved games and anime, two birds and one stone, right?

It started with you chatting with a random member nicknamed ‘Master Chifuyu.’ Corny, but you didn’t really care. Getting to know him was amazing, charming, likes the same games and anime as you, good at games, easy to talk to— not to mention his voice was so attractive and god, when he revealed his face, you swore you were about to ride your goddamn screen.

No fair at all, discord mods were usually fucking horrendous inside and out. God was truly looking over you, he found you attractive and he lived close to you too! That’s how your ‘relationship’ started.

— 1 visuals: link (it's a car but just pretend)

Chifuyu was a horny bastard, never having a girlfriend for long enough to have sex with. He had a porn addiction, sadly— You caught him in the act a couple of times, cock in hand with him desperately jerking off to some videos he found on Reddit. It actually made you kinda sad. I mean, he has a girlfriend for a reason. You were always willing to help him if he was horny or stressed.

Panting and sighing as he tried not to moan as his palm met his sensitive head. Porn with loud fake moans blaring out of his headset as you entered, dropping your bags and immediately forgetting whatever you were gonna say.

“Oh- oh shit! Baby! I didn’t know you were comin’ over.” The male gasps, shutting off whatever he had playing on his monitor, turning his chair around to face you— completely shadowing the fact his hard cock was in front of you.

God he had a decent size, extremely thick too. “‘M sorry Y/N, promise. I just-” his words completely fly through you. Now you were turned on as you just gawked at his sex, running over to assist your boyfriend, dropping to your knees.

Your hands gripped to his shaft as you looked up at him, stroking it softly. "Hah- baby you really don't have to-"

"I know. I wanna help." You cut him off, staring at his face as he tries not to moan out and fuck into your hands, so cute.

— 2 visuals: link, link

Something you learned as you finally started having a sexual relationship is that Chifuyu liked cosplay. Actually he loved it when you did it, started making you cosplay his favorite characters just for him to fuck you and soil your costume with his cum. But the thing he loved most was when you’d pretend to be his pet. Collar, leash, everything. Even started making you wear butt plugs with a tail attached to it.

“Fu- Master it hurts, s'so big!” You whined as he stretched your insides with every inch, he was so thick.

“Shh, it’s only for a little bit, promise.” He cooed, grunting as his whole length bottomed inside of your cunt. That tail up your ass was making you tighter than ever, gummy walls squeezing around his fat length.

“Calm down or master won't last long.."

He rubs your ass as he starts slow, the pain quickly turning into pleasure. “So good, master!” your babbling comes out muffled as you face the pillow, gripping the sheets beside you—moving your hips with him, tail bouncing. “Want your cock so badly.” Your collar jingled with each stroke.

“Don’t worry puppy, master will take care of you.”

— 3 visuals: link, link, link

At times, Chifuyu would neglect you sexually. It would be about a week or two since he’s even touched your cunt. He's been too caught up in his game to even pay attention to you. Only ever interacting with you when he asks you to hand him another Monster in the fridge. But you were needy and wanting some sorta stimulation. Handing him his drink but instead of leaving, you sat on his lap. The end result is something you didn’t want, but you weren’t ungrateful for either.

Holding onto his neck, hugging him as you huff and whimper into his ear. Mindlessly grinding your naked sex all over his thigh as he continues to play his game.

"Daddy!" you whine, holding onto him as he ignores your existence— your cunt getting wetter with each hump to your clit. The moaning did get to Chifuyu, cock aching in his pants as he tries to focus on CSGO, he sighs.

"Fuck, let daddy game. Please, baby?"

If you were lucky and you did that, Chifuyu would allow you to sit on his cock, but he wouldn’t move. And you better not even try to bounce on it either, any type of movement reverts his attention to your sopping cunt and not the game.

"'Fuyu please move, please! Do anything for it!" You whine, grinding your hips against his pelvis, the stimulation mixed with his cock stirring inside you made your cunt leak, liquid dribbling to his chair.

"Shut up."

His crude reply makes you suck your teeth, pouting with a 'hmph!' but you obey, allowing him to enjoy his time. When Chifuyu would get frustrated at his game, he'd thrust inside of you, grunting and cursing at his screen.

But it wasn't all bad, if you were being a brat he'd just straight up forget his game, fucking you like a cock sleeve.

"Hah- Daddy, fuck- m'sorry!" You cry out, his grip on your hips will definitely leave a mark after.

"Shut your mouth, You were begging for this." You mewl at his response, the handle on his desk tightens as he gets more rough, wood and electronics thumping against the wall.

— 4

But neglect like that got even worse when he started streaming, completely shutting you out as he focused more on his streams. You were jealous, not only was he not paying attention to you, but he was paying more attention to his server and female viewers more than you.

You were fed up, the reminders and talks did nothing but give you a 'I get it already.' and sighs, he was so caught up in this bullshit he's practically throwing away his relationship.

It was another one of his 4PM streams, Minecraft again. You came up with a perfect plan to get back at him— which kinda benefits him but who's really paying attention.

Crawling under your boyfriend's desk as he continues to pay attention to his stream, not batting an eye at you as he actively makes jokes with them. Curious hands find his thighs, two fingers stepping and trailing over to his crotch, unzipping and unbuttoning his jeans, finally acknowledging your presence.

“What are you doing?” He whispers to you, but you just smirk at him pulling his pants along with his boxers to his thighs he gasps. Looking back up, he forgot he was streaming.

“Ah, heh.” He scratches his head, nervously laughing. “Sorry guys my cat is playing under the table, You guys met Peke J, right?”

You scoff at his quick thinking, grabbing his shaft, quickly licking a fat strip on his slit, he sighs.

You continue your ministrations, sliding it in and out of your mouth, you wish you could see his face as he tries his hardest not to look out of the ordinary. But eventually he learns to shut you out, cocking a brow at his sudden neglection.

You weren't gonna let him enjoy his stream. Not a chance, downing his whole length inside of your throat, making sure you choked, he groans in response, legs squirming underneath his desk.

"Sorry guys." He clears his throat.

"I gotta the end stream, my pet's giving me problems."

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #chifuyu smut #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu matsuno x reader #chifuyu matsuno smut

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

best nest

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: 6.2k

Keigo's never been able to properly indulge his instincts, though you're more than willing to help him change that.

warnings: avian, feral keigo. rut/heat cycles. nesting. wing kink. breeding. horny shit, i tell u what

beta’ed: @keiqos

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wow :’^) this is a collab with the wuv, @keiqos!! we each worked on a fic that was our own take of keigo during his rut, and now y’all get the fun results. here is hers!!! enjoy this feast!!!

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Keigo had been acting particularly weird for the past few weeks.

He was hardly a skittish person, yet he had been avoidant and downright shy in the last month or so. Despite living together, you had hardly seen or heard from him, and when you tried to address his absence, Keigo continually brushed you off.

He was hardly meeting your eyes when you managed to be in the apartment at the same time.

Finally, one night, he came in late. You sat, waiting on the couch, very awake circa three in the morning.

His eyes went wide, knowing he was caught.

“I know it’s late, but can we talk?” You asked softly, patting the couch next to you.

Keigo nodded stiffly, wings folded timidly against his back as he sat. In his big, tough hero uniform, he looked so odd with his hands held so nervously.

“What’s going on, love?” You spoke quietly, lowering the volume of the TV to a hum. “Talk to me.”

Keigo silently picked at the threading of his gloves, then pulled off his visor. He stayed silent, eyes wide and far off.

You sighed, bringing your knees up under your body to face him. You tried to sound strong, but there was a twinge of weakness in your voice, “Are you... seeing other people?”

That notion brought Keigo right back, head snapping up to meet your own before gripping the sides of your face (harder than you would’ve expected) and rapidly shaking his head.

“No, no, no, not at all,” Keigo scooted closer to you as he spoke. “I promise, not that.”

“Then what?” You were frowning, despite Keigo’s contact feeling aloe on a burn.

Once again, Keigo seemed to stumble. His eyes averted, going glassy.

“It’s embarrassing,” His hands slip from your face, back into his lap. “Very embarrassing.”

You raised an eyebrow.

Keigo Takami was many things. But, shy and passive were not in that repertoire.

You deadpanned.

“Please, just tell me,” You huffed at him, crossing your arms. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, Kei’. Feels weird.”

“I know, it’s just— fuck.” His gloved hands dragged down his face, flushing a bright red.

You figured he was a bit warm.

Carefully, you reached forward, going to pull them from his hands. He stiffened harshly, watching you with... slitted eyes— (had they always been like that?). You gingerly freed Keigo’s fingers and palms, intertwining your own.

“You can tell me, Keigo,” You smiled at him, squeezing and feeling pricks of pain in the flesh of your own hands.

You noticed then, that Keigo’s fingernails were longer, pointed even. Though, they didn’t look manicured. They seemed to grow darker at the cuticle.

Your eyes widened as you looked up at Keigo as he turned his head away, half hiding his face in the fluffy collar of his jacket.

“You know how I go on a ‘business trip’ about this time every year?” Keigo asked, rubbing a clawed thumb over the back of your hands.

You nodded, “You go on lots of business trips, Kei’. What’s different about this spring one?”

Keigo shifted his legs, wings twitching at his back. His entire form emanated his uncomfortable energy. From the tension rolling off his shoulders to the way he clenched and unclenched his jaw, Keigo was visibly very anxious.

“Okay, uh, how do I explain this—” Keigo dropped his head, then looked back up at you, blinking slitted pupils at you. “You know how I’ve got wings?”

“Duh, dummy,” You rolled your eyes, reaching out to brush some fingers over one of the large, external feathers.

Oh, but you got a reaction you weren’t expecting. You hadn’t thought anything of your action, yet Keigo audibly moaned with the contact. Something loud, high, and sinful as his thighs clenched together.

Both of your eyes went wide.

“So,” You began slowly, “You have wings.”

“I have wings,” Keigo’s voice sounded tense and held in his throat, shaking just a bit. “And, I have some other avian traits as well.”

“Like...?” You coaxed. Whatever it was must’ve really made Keigo uncomfortable if he was being this resistant to talking about it. This man was the number two hero, yet he was mincing about like a kitten.

“Uhhh... They’re more behavioral. Some physical,” Keigo bit his lip, shaking his head. “What do birds do in the spring?”

“Is this a riddle?”

“No, straightforward question.”

You really thought he was pulling your leg, but based on Keigo’s words and grave expression, he was dead serious.

And you had a dead serious answer.

“Oh my god, Keigo, you migrate?!” Your mouth fell open. Keigo’s eyes went wide and he seemed to stifle a laugh before shaking his head, feathers ruffling.

“No, oh my God, no,” Keigo carried some mirth in his gaze now. “Not at all.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing with him. The tension seemed to be somewhat out of his shoulders until you set a hand on his knee and squeezed.

“Keigo, out with it,” You rolled your eyes. “I know it’s scary, but I promise, no matter what it is, I’m here for you okay?”

You let your eyes soften as you sighed, squeezing his hands.

Keigo looked you dead in the face, “We fuck, (Y/N).”

You choked on your own spit, before leaning back with a small laugh, “I know it’s been a minute with your schedule, but we do indeed do that outside of spring.”

“No, no, not like that,” Keigo ran his hands down his face, shaking his head. “I’ve been avoiding you because this whole conversation is going to be weird and embarrassing. You up for it? Because it only gets weirder.”

“Lay it on me, tailfeathers,” You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles.

Keigo took a hand to sheepishly rub the back of his neck, “One of my more... avian traits is this... I don’t know, the Commission called it a ‘rut’, but I’ve done my own research and I’m not sure if that fully encompasses all of what it is.”

You weren’t entirely unfamiliar with the concept, but you certainly weren’t an expert.

“What happens during it?”

“Uh, to be frank, exactly what happens during a bird’s mating season, and then some.” Keigo’s long nails dug into the fabric of his cargo pants. “My feathers grow in a bit differently. I nest. I get weird and territorial, possessive. I cannot tell you how much I’ve wanted to leave your neck covered in bite marks, just fucking claiming you—”

You both swallowed.

“And... You’re insatiably horny on top of all of this?” You asked, trying to ignore the way your insides were heating up.

Keigo nodded, waiting for you to reply with a softened, gooey gaze.

Oh, this was a little weird, right? Keigo was avian in some ways, but you never thought he had a whole ass mating season-

“Wait, so, in the spring, the ‘business trips’,” You used air quotes with a frown. “You’ve been just disappearing for your ‘rut’ and then coming back? Alone?”

Keigo waved his hands between the two of you, feathers fluffing up defensively behind him, “No, n-no, not like that. Never once. I’d just hole up in my apartment and fuck my hand like it was God.”

You choked.

It made sense, you and Keigo moved in together at the end of last spring. Looking back, the timing now seemed to be intentional.

“When did it start?” You asked, getting semi-intrigued by Keigo’s odd biology.

“I was sixteen, I think,” Keigo did the mental math and bit his lip. “The Commission didn’t really know what to do with me, so they would just lock me up in my room with two extra blankets and call it good.”

You choked again.

“So, you just disappear, deal with it, then come back?” You frown. “Keigo, I would’ve helped if I would’ve known.”

“I don’t know, (Y/N), it’s a lot to ask,” Keigo’s nails bit into his wrists as he squeezed. “I’m basically a horny, possessive, feral birdman for two weeks, not too mention the time leading up to it. That’s why I’ve been all distance. I’m sorry, I should’ve at least told you.”

“I would have appreciated it if you had, but I understand,” You grabbed Keigo’s hand again and squeezed. “This doesn’t exactly sound like a thing you’ve really ever been able to deal with comfortably, huh?”

“N-not really,” Keigo got all sheepish again, scooting a bit closer to you. “I haven’t really known what to do about it this year, so I’ve just been putting off facing you. I was just gonna get a hotel room or something, run off for two weeks, and then come back.”

“Another ‘business trip’?” You raised an eyebrow as Keigo looked down, all sheepish and blushy. You tutted, shaking your head. “Well, babe, not this time. I’ve got you. I’m your live-in partner and I will not let my sweet, bird boy handle horny hours alone. I haven’t made you before, right?”

That made Keigo laugh, softly, some of the stress being held still in his wings falling away.

“I appreciate that, angel, but I don’t want you to agree to do this until you fully understand it,” He beamed you a smile. God, the man was like sunshine and candy when he chose to be.

You nodded, giving him a(n) (over)confident smile, “Lay it on me, babe.”

Keigo had amassed quite a detailed understanding of his biological clock over the years, and he was able to spit it all back onto you.

“It’s basically two weeks of time where my only thoughts are ‘nest’, ’fuck’,’protect’, ’breed’—” Keigo cut himself off when your eyes went wide.

“Wait, like, have children?” You asked, gut feeling unsettled.

You and Keigo had been dating for a while, but the topic of children had never been seriously brought up.

Does helping him mean to commit to having kids?

“No, not exactly. Like, I’m trying to protect a mate and breed, but that doesn’t mean the outcome needs to be children. At all,” Keigo assured you, patting your knee. “I know, it’s weird. I definitely am not into getting you pregnant, but that instinct part of my brain is.”

“Well, I’m on birth control, so we should be good there, right?” You laughed, relieved, squeezing his hand. “What do you mean by nesting?”

“A literal nest. A spot that just smells like me and you to keep—” Keigo clicked his tongue, sighing in what seemed like relaxation, “you safe. And mine. It usually ends up being just like... my entire apartment, lots of shredded pillows, feathers, blankets. It’s honestly a nightmare.”

A nightmare, yes, but a very necessary one.

So, a plan was made.

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Keigo sent you off to a hotel for the days leading up to his rut. He had to prepare, get things ready and he wanted to be careful not to trigger it earlier and risk ruining what would more than likely be his first proper rut.

You took his lead, pampering yourself for a few days and letting Keigo handle the details.

(Considering how wrecked your body was going to be in the coming weeks, it was more than smart to give yourself some time to rest.)

When Keigo called you to tell you he was ready, he was sounded elated, wings audibly flapping into the receiver.

When you arrived back at the apartment, the ride up the glass elevator was daunting.

You were perfectly happy to help with Keigo’s rut, but you were a bit nervous about what he was going to be like. Though he reminded you that one of his hormonal brain’s functions was to ‘keep you safe’, it also sounded like he was going to be a bit out of his mind. You trusted him with your life, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t nerve-wracking.

The elevator dinged, sliding open to the top floor.

Keigo stood just outside.

You couldn’t help jumping back in surprise, taking in Keigo’s... state.

He looked positively feral, just on sight. Though had been warned of this, you hadn’t fully expected how visible his state would be.

Keigo apparently decided to forgo any sort of a top today as his chest was entirely bare to you. A pair of grey sweats was slung low on his hips, likely put on in a rush based on the uneven settling of the waistband. This was not even to mention the very obvious imprint of his dick against the fabric, hard just from seeing you. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, skin pink with rushing blood.

“Angel,” Keigo purred, yanking you from the elevator and crushing you into his chest, smothering you with kisses. Stray feathers flew to pick up your bags, carting them off to your nearby apartment.

Speaking of wings—

In the few days it had been since you’d seen Keigo, his feathers had almost entirely changed. They were still their usual bright crimson, but the filaments of the plumage seemed to be almost... shiny? You couldn’t quite place it, but there had been some sort of change in their anatomy that made his wings appear iridescent when they moved. The patterns almost seemed to swirl and streak through the plumage. You wanted nothing more than to admire them.

Without thinking (or responding to Keigo, mistake), you reached out to grab one of the feathers, “Oh wow, Keigo, they’re so pretty.”

The moment you wrapped your hand fully around the plume, Keigo clawed his... talons (?!) into your shoulders, shuddered, and screamed.

You hissed as pain radiated from your shoulders, but managed to hold both you and Keigo upright as he twitched against you.

“Fuck,” He cursed against your neck, panting.

You felt a vague, wet spot on your leg.

You blanched.

“Did... you just cum? From me touching your wings?”

Keigo nodded against, still shaking.

“S-sorry...”

The shame in his tone made your frown, pulling away from him to press a harsh kiss against his half-parted lips.

“Nope,” You murmured against his lips. “Nu-uh, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m here to help, dummy.”

He sighed in relief, pressing into you.

It was going to be an interesting two weeks.

...

The apartment was a nightmare. Keigo really hadn’t been lying when he told about how extreme nesting was.

Notably, nothing was dirty. Keigo was actually an immaculately clean person due to his time with the Commission, but he was disorganized. And the nest of an apartment was testament to that.

There were stray feathers everywhere. Stuck in cupboards, tucked behind the TV, wedged in pillowcases and blankets, even a few under the bathroom sink. Newly purchased blankets and pillows were strewn over every surface. It appeared like you could simply fall in any area of the house and be entirely cushioned. Not to mention that Keigo’s feathers could sense every single motion in the house.

It was a sweet gesture and testament to the protective element of the rut that Keigo described.

In addition to the many layers of softness, a new, far larger mattress had even been dragged to the living room and placed on top of a high frame set against the wall of windows that overlooked the city. It was heaped with pillows, fluffy blankets, and downy-looking, glimmering feathers. All of, despite its inherent chaos, was the comfiest looking corner of the apartment.

“Oh, wow, ‘Kei,” You breathed, running a hand along a soft-looking blanket over the back of a chair. “You did such a good job!”

With that, he was pressed against you from behind.

“I... I did? You like it?” Keigo never asked for validation so openly. The implication of his inherent fear around his rut continued to make your heart ache. From what he had told you (and what you read in the days prior about avian behavior), you needed to ‘accept’ the nest he made for the two of you.

I’ll make this good for him.

“Yes, so much.” You leaned back against his chest, loving the way the heat of his bare chest seeped so well through your clothes, “I can’t wait to snuggle up with you in it and so much more.”

Your last word was more than enough to get Keigo chirping into your ear.

Yes, bird-ishly chirping.

It was a mix of high and low clicks, maybe a bit of cooing thrown in as well. As far as his avian adaptations went, this one was newer to you, but remarkably cute. You turned around, pressing a kiss to his neck without thinking.

The contact made Keigo’s aforementioned talons dig into the meat of your hips, a hot breath rolling over your ear, “Please let me fuck you.”

It was abrupt, his shift in tone, but based on the way his cock was nearly burning your backside, it was a necessary step.

“Well, I certainly won’t stop you,” You didn’t realize the unintended weight of your words, but Keigo sure as fuck did.

He roughly grabbed your wrist, dragging you across the room to the mattress in the corner.

“W-wait, not the bedroom?” You asked. Keigo pressed at your shoulders, pushing you down roughly, though the softness of the bed dressings insulated your fall.

“Nope, here, best spot,” Keigo’s words were clipped as he straddled your waist, silencing any other words you might have with a soul-sucking kiss. His tongue wormed its way into your mouth, licking at your gums and receding to suck at your tongue. All the while, you could hear and feel his feathers shudder.

He pulled away, eyes half-lidded and vertical pupils blown wide.

“You have no fucking idea how much I missed you.” Keigo’s teeth nipped at your pulse point.

Were... his teeth sharper?

You craned your neck away from him, pulling a nasty growl from his chest. You watched his feathers, both the one’s still fixed to his back and flared upwards and those scattered around, shudder and writhe.

Keigo’s canines were longer, maybe even a little sharper.

This rut thing... it was an avian thing, right?

Birds... don’t have sharp teeth... Do they?

You dismissed it, much more focused on Keigo’s hand as it slipped lower, futzing with the waistband of your pants.

“Sorry, dove, I’m a little impatient,” His voice was rough and strained, like he was holding back.

His normally nimble hands struggled with the button of your fly, and with a nasty growl, he snatched up one of his nearby feathers, hardening it in an instant, and slicing your pants off.

“Keigo!” You shrieked, squirming, and sitting up as he tore off the ruined garment. “I liked those! That wasn’t nice.”

“I think I’m done being nice to you for a bit, dove.” He shot you a dark look.

You blinked at him.

Keigo had warned you that he would be a bit feral... but you weren’t expecting his nasty attitude.

You also weren’t expecting to be turned on by the rage-filled spikes in his words.

“Get on your hands and knees.” Keigo’s voice was clipped as he slipped off his sweats.

Holy.

Fuck.

Keigo’s cock was nothing to fucking sneeze at. It was pretty, long, with nice girth and a perfect curve for your pussy. He tended to keep his body hair well kept and groomed, an old remnant of the militancy of his youth.

Oh, but ‘fuck you until you’re pregnant’ Keigo?

His dick was a bit bigger, engorged with what had to be painful blood flow. Heavy balls hung below, ripe and flushed, in desperate need of contact, let alone release. Maybe it was the ambiance (or, the smell and pheromones unknowingly being inhaled into your endocrine system), but his dick looked immaculate.

“Is your dick bigger, babe?” You asked, half-drooling in your mind at your lover’s cock. It certainly wasn’t hard to.

Keigo normally would’ve clawed at the opportunity to schmooze you for stroking his ego so directly, but your current version of Keigo was far less into flattery.

“I said, get on your hands and knees.” He didn’t wait for you to reply, just flipped you onto your stomach, straddling your upper thighs. You yelped at the shock of sheets hitting your front, fabric tearing behind you as Keigo made quick work of your shirt.

You gulped as Keigo’s hands, talons, raked their way down your bare back as he let loose a loud, quaking sigh, “Oh, Angel, holy fuck.”

He said the pet name like it was a prayer to God and you let him.

You shivered under him as his nails drew lines up your neck, all the way into your scalp. Without warning, he pressed the heel of his hand into the curve of your skull, shoving you deeper into the plushness of the nest below you.

Oh... Fuck. Were you about to sloppy fuck in the sheets you’d be spending the next several weeks in?

(Yes.)

The somewhat gross revelation was quickly forgotten as Keigo’s hot breath shuddered against your ear, his (oh my fucking god slightly pointed?) tongue curled along the soft skin of your pulse point.

You both choked down a moan as his exposed cock rubbed against your backside.

“You’re so pretty like this,” For being feral, and for the blood that was quickly rushing to your head and sex, Keigo sounded very nice. “Gonna look so cute with my cock inside you, right?”

You nodded into the sheets, struggling to raise yourself up on your elbows as Keigo hauled your hips up.

Stabilizing yourself on the softness of the sheets and feathers was much more difficult than one would think. You were already slipping, no matter how you tried to hold yourself up.

“I can’t begin to tell you how much I want to fill you up, right now,” His voice takes on a dreamy lilt as he shoves you back, further into the nest. You crawl on your hands and knees, succumbing to Keigo’s hand on your neck after arriving to the middle of the massive mattress. “But, I also really don’t wanna hurt my angel. Gotta make sure you’re good and ready.”

The sentiment was nice enough, but you stiffened, remembering that Keigo’s nails were not only sharpened, but slightly hooked. You tried to turn, but quickly stop when you felt Keigo’s hot, hot breath over your sex.

You shuddered, biting your lip as his pointed tongue ran up and down your slit. From his hold on the meat of your thighs, you could tell he was trembling and burning. Whether it was from how much he needed you or how much he was holding himself back, you couldn’t be sure.

Keigo’s pointed tongue ran up between the lips of your cunt, both of you moaning at the sensation. You felt his wings raise behind the two of you, casting shadows down on your display in some weird show of dominance.

It made your skin run hot.

What made it run even hotter was the jolt you received Keigo pressed his face into your cunt with absolute zero shame.

His tongue slicked up the lips of your pussy, dipping around your opening with absolutely sinful sounds falling around the two of you.

When you tried to adjust your arms, you caught a quick slap to your ass, pain only pushing your eyes to roll back in your head as Keigo sneered against you.

“Greedy.” It was a rich line, coming from him, king of gluttony, but you weren’t about to argue with him.

His nails dug into your thighs, dragging your cunt and his face together to the point where it felt like there was no space between them. You were helpless to do much other than grind back on his tongue as he tongue-fucked your cunt.

Keigo drew away, grabbing you by the hips and spinning you. Your back hit the nest, eyes spinning as you weren’t so used to him outright manhandling you. You sucked in a breath as you stared up at Keigo, his face slick with your juices and enlarged wings spread out and upwards.

The slits of his eyes were blown wide, a toothy smile beaming down at you. It seemed sort of sweet before two of his clawed-fingers (thankfully, somewhat gingerly) spread the lips of your cunt. He spat onto your exposed clit, no reverie in his actions as his avian glare slipped over you.

A harsh clicking came from the back of his throat, feathers fluttering.

“B-Babe? Are you okay?” You asked as Keigo refused to look away from your splayed-out body.

“More than okay,” He shuddered, looking a bit more grounded for a moment. He swallowed, shaking his head.

Surprisingly, he reached out to cup the side of your face, rubbing a thumb over your cheek, “If you want me to stop, can you tell me now?”

“I don’t want to, Kei’,” You laid your words on thickly, knowing you had his lucidity. “Can you please fuck me? Fill me up, Kei’.”

He growled, something from deep in his chest, nodding, feathers shimmering in the light of the room.

He was on you instantly, wings flapping to shove his body into yours, lips on yours and tongue pressing into your mouth. The tapered appendage licks and literally fucks your mouth, robbing you of air as you weave your hands into his sweaty tresses and pull.

The pain spurred him on, one of his hands sloppily going between the two of you to line his fat cock with your cunt. He was considerate enough to rub circles on your clit as he rammed into your insides in one single motion.

Your eyes went wide, snapping open and you tug the bite of your nails into the back of Keigo’s head, held by the burning stretch and pleasant ache of your insides.

Keigo had been fairly quiet during this entire ordeal, an odd thing considering he normally ran his mouth dry with praises, filth, and sweet nothings when he was half this close to your cunt. Yet, he’d hardly spoken through most of it, and most of your reading of him had been based on body (and wing language).

But, when he did finally bottom out, shaking and straining, it clicked.

Based on the sweat that was rolling down his temples, the veins bulging in his forearms, and the rigid tension in his shoulders, he was holding his rut-crazed body back.

You frowned, trying to ignore the kiss of his cock head against your cervix.

Recalling some of the things Keigo told you about some of his more animalistic desires, you decided to egg him on to breaking. Based on the rapid twitching of his wings, he needed it.

Keigo just barely moved, biting his lip and harshly exhaling.

“Baby,” Your own voice broke as you spoke, falling back into his mutant desires as well. “Please, please, fuck me how you need. Please.”

“S’fine, this is enough,” Keigo gritted out as he dragged his cock almost entirely out of your dripping cunt.

To emphasize your need, you grabbed a fistful of his feathers at the base of his wings and tugged, making sure to press your nails to the bone.

Keigo threw his head back, moaning high into the air, a coo mixing with the sound as his wings shuddered in your grip.

You buckled down.

“No,” You whined, hooking your legs behind the small of his back, thumbing at the plumage as he writhed from your touch. “Fuck me, like you mean it, Keigo. Fill me up.”

He paused, freezing, eyes darting up to your own.

“S-say that again.”

You grinned, dragging his stiff neck down to your mouth, dragging your tongue to his ear, “I said I want you to fill me up. Stuff me full of your cum and breed me so good, please, Kei’.”

You’d never spoken like that to him during sex, and you quickly understood why.

The moment the words left your lips, Keigo slammed his hips back into you, wings fanning out as wide as they could.

His lips found your neck, cock rearranging your insides with the immediate force and pace of his thrusts. His hands grappled at your hips, your tits, your shoulders, and your legs, anything to get to ram himself into you. Each thrust was punctuated by growls and clicks from the back of his throat, filthy words finally fell from his lips without a trace of shame.

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna breed you so good,” Keigo’s voice was breathy as he raked his nails down your neck, light lines following as he bottomed out in you once more. He roughly grabbed one of your tits, pinching your pebbled nipple. “Gonna make you gush for me, yeah, I am.”

You could’ve given an equally horny response, but Keigo’s tongue was quickly in your throat, groaning into your mouth as his pace picked up to something inhumane.

It was short-lived, the wet slapping of his heavy balls stalling as he damn near screamed into your mouth, coming deep in your throbbing cunt.

You shuddered, feeling his load already dripping from your cunt onto the sticky sheets below you.

Keigo’s lips parted from yours, half-lidded eyes looking glazed and dreamy.

You thought that nutting twice so closely together would slow him down, but you were remarkably wrong.

You rolled your hips up, smiling, “Feeling okay, Kei’?”

Keigo blinked down at you, lowering his head to nose at your jaw. You tilted your head for him, spine curling when you felt him begin to move again, still fully hard.

“I’m not done yet.” His words were curt and sharp as his arms caged around your head. The sharp peaks of his canines caught on the skin of your neck, dragging and sucking. “Gotta make sure you’re fucked nice and good with my brood, dove. So good.”

You swallowed, eyes rolling back when Keigo bit down at the base of your neck.

Keigo’s hips slammed back into yours, his pace picking up and the squelching of your slick and his cum ringing around the room. You could hardly focus on it, or anything as he quickly threw your legs over his shoulders, moving his licks and bites to your calves and thighs.

Your clit throbbed with each thrust, wet and craving contact. When you reached down to play with yourself, Keigo swatted your hand away with a growl, a red feather from the bed replacing it. The small, soft crimson feathers lapped at your clit, making quick circles as it became wet with slick.

With the hold on your legs, he hauled you upwards, your lower half lifted off the bed and held by only Keigo’s grip and the curve of your spine. You keened with each of his thrusts, listening to the wild words that spilled from his lips while he rammed your cunt raw.

They were mostly incoherent, half-sentences about how he was going to ‘breed you until he’s shooting blanks’, ‘fuck you full with his brood’ and ‘reem you until you grew feathers’. Each phrase got your breath going fast, his grip and pace forcing your lungs to fill faster and faster.

The feather against your cunt grew sloppier, nearly vibrating with its jerky movement. A well-timed swat to your clit by Keigo’s own hand while he talked about your ‘life-giving pussy’ was what sent you over the edge, cunt tightening around his cock.

His words reached peak incoherency as he rammed into your cervix, spilling into you with a harsh wail, wings stretching upwards and bumping against the ceiling.

You expected a moment of reprieve, but before you could even think, still spinning with your own orgasm, Keigo flipped you onto your tummy once more.

Despite signing up for this sort of treatment, your insides already ached. The friction of Keigo’s fat cock had stretched you perfectly, all for him, but the deep ache in your core was getting a bit distracting. This was not even mentioning how sore your muscles were getting, pulling from the pacing and positioning Keigo chose at whim.

You didn’t voice your pains, buckling down on your psyche (or, what you had left of it), as Keigo slid into you once more.

“Oh baby,” His voice was slippery as he wound his hands through your hair, pulling and forcing your back into a severe arch. “You feel that?”

He fucked into you harshly, the squelch that followed serving as a reminder of how he’d already more than filled you up.

“So pretty and round with my seed...” Keigo’s words got dreamy and slow, just for a moment as he smoothed his hand over your hips, “Just need to make sure it takes...”

The feather from earlier was back on you as he started up once more, babbling and flapping his massive wings as he fucked you numb.

You came as he did the next time, your legs giving way under the pressure and sensation. Keigo was quick to tsk, two more of his feathers moving to hold you up as he started to move again, cock never leaving your spent cunt.

The parts of your brain that were still working and not reduced to a pile of mush wondered how the fuck he was still hard, but all things considered, it shouldn’t have been surprising. Besides, he deserved to satiate himself properly, fucking your gushing cunt, considering he’d never gotten to indulge in his instincts like this before.

Despite how you burned all over, you let him finish inside you yet again.

And again.

And again?

You lost count at some point.

Keigo apparently really liked you face-down, ass-up, and kept you like that as he fucked you full over and over again. After having his taloned-hand stuck into your hair holding you to the duvet and pillows for so long, your head was spinning. What made all of this all the more overwhelming was the small feather that never fucking stopped moving—

“Kei’, please!” You screamed, voice hoarse and dry. You’re spinning, aching, and yet you still want more.

Keigo’s pace increases, using his wings to rut against your cervix over and over.

The tempo of the feather increased, Keigo’s growls falling away into his own shriek as he pushed forwards once more, hot cum spraying your walls all over again.

The sensations, all of them, pushed you over the edge, a shriek tearing from your throat as hot tears soaked the nest below. Your orgasm curled your toes to the point of pulling muscles, back bowing and straining as broiling pleasure swallowed you once more.

Keigo might’ve kept fucking you after that, you couldn’t really remember. With the plumes of feathers under your knees, he could’ve and you wouldn’t have known.

Your body and mind were spent, trying to keep up with his appetite. Your eyes rolled back behind your eyelids, and lucidity was gone to you.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

You awoke to soft cooing sounds and the smell of sweat.

It was jarring, shifting the slightest bit and feeling aches and pains you didn’t even know you could have.

The cooing stuttered, falling into a chuckle.

Oh.

Keigo.

His rut.

Oh.

“Oh my god, Kei’, did you fuck me unconscious?” It came out almost as a growl, voice cracking and low.

A hand carded through your hair as you opened your eyes, taking in the state of yourself, Keigo, and the nest.

You were both sweaty, sticky and smelling all sorts of musky. It was intoxicating, lulling you. It must’ve been those pheromones that Keigo had mentioned way back when.

Keigo had nestled you to his chest, wings spread behind him and shimmering. The windows outside showed only the neon of the city below, night having long since fallen.

He beamed down at you with a clear fondness, a lot of the tension gone from his body, and looking significantly less stressed. But, there was a sad quirk in his brow.

“Sorry about that, angel, I got kind of out of hand there,” Keigo replied sheepishly, smile turning a little sad.

You frowned.

You couldn’t have him thinking that.

“Nope, no, not at all,” You pushed yourself on an elbow, wincing at the pain, but recovering to peppering his stubbly chin and cheeks with kisses. “None of that, silly. I am happy to help, whatever that entails. I love you, you know?”

Keigo relaxed even more, falling against the nest and pulling you to his chest, “You gotta stop being so sweet, dove. Gonna get me riled up again.”

You hummed, kissing the tip of his nose, “That’s more than fine, just rub my shoulders a bit first. I think I pulled something.”

He kissed at your sweaty hair, rubbing his hands up and down your sides, “I’m more than happy too, dove. Thank you.”

His hands met your shoulders, rubbing at the sore muscles, careful to avoid pressing his talons into the skin.

You heard him say so softly, more to himself than to you, “I’m gonna keep you so safe.”

The grin that came across your face rivaled the sun in its brightness and honey with its sweetness. You melted into his touch, dissolving blissfully into the smells and feel of your nest.

Keigo left kiss after kiss against soreness, cooing and clicking as his rut-based needs were more than met.

For once.

#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks x you #hawks x y/n #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo x y/n #feral hawks #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha x reader #hawks smut #hawks #takami keigo #keigo x y/n #reader x hawks #you x hawks #dont call me a furry for this one but damn im tredding the line #bnha smut

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hajimeiwaswife · 2 years

Text

DEBT PAID

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheeting, mentions of murder, oral sex (f!receiving), slight dacryphilia, breeding kink, creampie, feelings. MDNI

Wc: 6k

Summary: Mikey thinks love must be paid when you receive it, and ever since he pushed you away to create Bonten he wonders where does love end when there's no target to aim to anymore.

AO3 Link

Formulary for commissions

The smell of Sakura wrapping the ambience of the busy Tokyo streets was reminding him of happier times; those where he could ride on his bike with his friends, when they would fight against other gangs around the city, when you were next to him.

What has he become? He had always been a monster, a dark shadow waiting to be released from the prison he used to call 'heart'. The same one you used to hold with so much care and love, showing him that he deserved to be taken care of with gentle caresses.

However, he had so much blood in his hands now he can't help but flinch at the thought of holding yours once more. He had let you go, fly away from him as a free bird that runs away from winter, because if you can't have something, it is better to let it go. That was the last act of love he could give you directly, still he had so much love in his chest with no target to aim at that he couldn't help but wonder where it would end.

His gun hidden in between his clothes, its weight nothing compared to the sorrow he felt as he saw your hair flowing in the floral smelling wind. Your smile brought him a feeling of peace he hadn't felt in so long he had forgotten it existed, lost in the mountain of corpses he had left on his way to the top of the criminal life. You didn’t owe him anything and he didn’t owe you anything either, but was it wrong to wish to leave all of himself to you even if you didn’t want him?

Was it selfish to be in love with you, to love you still to that day, even if he was the one to push you away? Most likely, yes. He watched in the most unbearable pain the way his old friend took your hand with the tenderness he should have done it when he had the chance.

“Boss, we need to go.” Kokonoi said from behind him, his voice echoing in the laugh coming out of your mouth as you walked away with Mitsuya. Mikey breathed deeply to try and calm himself down, he had other matters to attend to before acknowledging the suffering his bleeding heart was imposing over him.

The short man just nodded, turning around without giving you a last glance to head to the car, afraid of giving up on everything he had achieved and running towards your welcoming arms, those who held him when you both were younger and naïve. Instead, he was now sat among the cruelest and most remorseless criminals in Japan and, the worst thing was that he was their leader. How had he ended up like this? What were the chances of such an outcome?

Shinichiro, Emma, Baji. So many people had died under his watch, unfairly flying away as the untamed angels they were, leaving a burning demon on Earth on their parting. You trusted him, wanted him to be something he couldn’t fulfill. You loved him as purely as a newborn flower in spring and he repaid you with pain, suffering, heartache and trauma.

“I heard from the Roppongi section that Galician cocaine is of good quality lately. Maybe we should order a broader shipment this time.” Ran mentioned turning from side to side on his leather chair.

Mikey looked up, realizing they were all in the meeting room in their hideout. He didn’t know when they arrived, completely lost as he observed his subordinates talking about new trafficking staff. He wanted to scoff, done with whatever they had going on and opened the wrapper of the candy that probably Mochi left on his part of the desk.

“Will it be worth it, though?” Sanzu intervened, using a quarter of a paper sheet to place what Mikey assumed was cocaine in a straight line, “I mean, I won’t complain, but I’m not willing to lose money.” he then lowered his head until it was nearly right on the table and sniffed, causing Kokonoi to flinch, who was just next to the drug addict.

“Eh… yeah, well,” Kokonoi just breathed deeply with eyes wide open and reached for the calculator and his tablet, “it’s cost-effective. But you will lose money, though.”

“Uh!? Why!?” the pink haired man asked loudly, some white powder laying under his nose.

“Because you’re our best purchaser.” he said matter of factly, causing the rest of the room to laugh except for Mikey, who just seemed to be bored out of his mind.

He couldn’t stop thinking about that pink summer dress you were modeling so beautifully, fitting your figure like a glove, so it was probably customized by Mitsuya himself. A pang of jealousy plowed through Mikey’s chest; Mitsuya was able to touch you, to spoil you rotten, to treat you as you deserved. And he wanted to scream that it was supposed to be him, that it would always be him who stayed in your heart for eternity. But he wasn’t, not anymore, even when he once promised to be there forevermore. What a mistake it was, because the reality was that he left.

He remembered that day clearly, you had been curled on his side while watching Chifuyu and Hakkai argue about romance advice for Takemichi.

“I don’t think either of you should speak on this, guys.” you had said, chuckling at the looks of offense both boys were giving you.

“Y/n-chan!” they whined at the same time.

“I have to agree with her.” Mikey commented, smiling softly as he looked at you. You were already gazing straight at him and, out of embarrassment, you hid your face on the crook of his neck.

Flustering you was one of his favorite activities, feeling pride on the way you would smile slightly and even laugh at some of his advances. He loved your laugh, he loved your smile, he loved your happiness, he loved you. He was sure and nothing could make him deny it to himself.

“Yeah? Well, Romeo, maybe if you took Y/n on…”

“He doesn’t need any piece of advice, Chifuyu.” you interrupted the cat lover with a chuckle, snuggling closer to your boyfriend, “He already does enough.”

Mikey felt his heart leap at the honest claim you just gave to your friends. He disguised his surprise and his desire to cry in a smug smile and hugged you closer to him if it was possible, deciding to kiss your forehead in search of something that could calm his erratic euphoria.

Everyone returned to the dynamic they had set until that moment, leaving you and Mikey floating in a bubble of feelings as unpredictable and powerful as a hurricane. He didn’t know where it came from or when his brain had formulated the sentence, but he felt the need to tell you something so mellow. He needed to pay for the way you had just made him feel.

“I will stay here, with you, forevermore. I promise.” he had whispered in your ear, nuzzling his nose on your temple.

You just looked at him curiously, with warm cheeks and your soul nearly leaving your body. “Mikey? W—What was that?”

“Nothing, just wanted to tell you.” he smiled that smile he always put to hide his deeper feelings, eyes and mouth closed, trying to reassure that he was fine. But he wasn’t, he had lost control of his emotions ever since you stepped a foot on his life and he didn’t regret a single moment.

However, as he looked at the new weapon shipment unloading on the port, he regretted the day he decided to give up on his friends and you. True it was that you were all happy, but his selfish side was crying in solitude and his soul was trying to reach yours.

He wondered what you were doing, probably cuddled on Mitsuya's side watching some shitty sit-com; or on a bar with all of your friends, Draken patting your head softly because you’ve won another game of Trivial.

However, an intrusive thought came to his mind as he checked on the new guns. What if he was fucking you? Mitsuya balls deep inside you, you moaning his name and wrapping your arms around his back while he thrusts into that pretty cunt of yours, your walls clenching around him as you come on his cock.

Mikey’s blood boiled, he couldn’t stand the thought of one of his best friends being the receiver of your love and pleasure. Grabbing his new gun tighter, he left the port without informing the rest of the gang.

Following the lights of the cars he kept walking the streets of Tokyo, the dark night couldn’t offer him any star due to pollution, and he cursed the human being for the nth time in a day. He was unable to breath, pressure constricting his chest to the point he thought he was being run by a track.

He wished for you to be happy, he had let you go for that to happen, sending you the angels he fought against in his place in Hell to take care of you. And yet, there he was, standing outside a cafe window, struck because there you were, too; what were the odds?

Years and years without seeing any of you and suddenly, he encounters you twice in a day. Hina accompanied you this time, both of you had smiles on your faces and seemed to be immersed in a very interesting conversation. He can’t help but smile, the sight of a happy you putting him at ease after so many depressing thoughts running wild in his mind.

He didn’t know if it were the lights of the establishment or your angelic aura, but you were shining bright. His eyes focused on you and only you, the only light he had ever encountered in his life.

So many memories of Emma teasing him, calling him a ‘lovesick puppy’, pointing at somewhere and lying about you being there just to see his reaction. He wondered what his beloved sister would be saying of him now if she saw him. A gangster, the leader of the yakuza himself, drooling because of his first love.

His first and only, nonetheless. Before you, he thought romantic love was pointless, something he didn’t need and swore to never fall for anybody. Then, you appeared and his only choice was to fall on his knees and pray and worship your mere existence.

It was then he noticed a presence near him, observing the cafe window as well and looking in the same direction Mikey was.

“Boss, you might be interested in this.” he remembered Mochi saying, placing a folder in front of Mikey.

“Umm? What 's this?” Curiously, Mikey left the candy he was sucking on the table, gaining a disgusted look from Mochi, and took the papers. He saw the face of a middle aged man and personal information about him, “A snitch or something?”

“No, uh,” Mochi sighed and sat next to his boss, “he’s just a civilian.”

“So?”

“He’s stalking and hounding Y/n.” the bigger man replied, standing up and getting as far from Mikey as possible when he saw the frown on his face.

“You know what to do.” was the only thing he had said before starting to suck on his candy again.

And now the man from the photos was there, next to him and observing his beloved with a macabre smile. The disgust and anger he felt awoke the inner shadows that consume him on daily basis, the wings of Death proclaiming the murder of said man the next day on the news. Y/n and Hina were in shock when they heard about it, as they had been hanging out in a place near where they found the body.

Meanwhile, Mikey was laying in bed with another soul attached to his dirty hands. He didn’t regret it, he would kill for you, once and once again if it was necessary. With his forearm pressed against his eyes, he smiled, a madman happy to protect you even if you didn’t ask for it, even if you didn’t want him to.

But things were like that, he would continue to pour his love in the only ways he knew, aware of where he placed it at every single second of the day.

A few weeks later, Mikey was heading to a meeting with his mind on the clouds again, wondering to himself if Takemichi had already returned to the present timeline. Would you tell him about his tragic destiny? Or would you keep it a secret from the man and let him leave a happy life at last?

Takemichi. He had done so, so much for him and his friends that he deserved to be left alone once and for all. Hina was alive, Mikey had made sure of it by all means, and everyone was safe and living quite a good life. Except for Mikey. And he prayed to whoever was listening that Takemichi would leave it like that, forget about him and marry the woman he had tried to save for so long.

However, there was a small corner of his heart that was asking for another chance to do things right and hold you and drag you to his shadows along with him. If there was a possibility, though, would the rest allow him to corrupt you? To keep you to himself for eternity? He laughed humorlessly, knowing damn well that Mitsuya would fight to death with him for your sake.

You really held that power, the one of making them fools for you without trying, just presenting your kind and lovable self and with no intentions of them falling for you to their knees, with their lips kissing the floor you walked in.

Suddenly, he felt something collapse against his chest. His bored and tired eyes focused on the figure in front of him, and when he was about to seal their destiny, he realized it was you. You, in a new green dress, clear face, and hair dancing in the wind. You, whose eyes widened when you recognised him and watered at the gaunt appearance the man had.

It was the first time in years you saw him, his long, blonde hair now cut and dyed white, reminded you of Izana. His once built physiognomy was so lean you could barely believe it was Manjiro in front of you.

The smell of Sakura wrapping the ambience of the busy Tokyo streets had presented him before you after so much time of wanting to see him. Your trembling form was shaking of both surprise and anguish; you were happy to have been given the chance of seeing his face once again, but the last memories you shared with him were plaguing your mind and were reminding you of his cruel words and actions.

“M-Manjiro.” you muttered under your breath, still processing the moment you were living. Your eyes were glassy as you observed the look of surprise the man in front of you wore, very similar to the expression he used to have anytime Takemichi would fight to the very end. In a sense, he didn’t seem to have changed at all; on the other hand, you wondered if there was at least a speck of the man you used to know.

Mikey didn’t know what to say, he had dreamed so much about this moment, but he couldn’t find the courage to talk to you and tell you everything he had been keeping to himself for the last ten years. He dedicated himself to just observing you, soaking himself of your essence as long as he was allowed.

“Manjiro, what— How are you? It’s been a long time, isn’t it?” you continue talking, wanting to hear his voice replying to any of your trivial questions, “I— You look different, that new hair suits you. And I see you still wear trackies, ah, some things never change, do they?”

“Y/n.” he interrupted you, your name rolling off his tongue so gentle and smoothly your knees threatened to fall. It was the only thing he could mumble, brain going so slowly he couldn’t process anything you were saying, though he would lie if he said he wasn’t shocked that you would speak so naturally to the leader of Bonten.

“Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s me. Sorry, maybe you didn’t recognize me at all and here I am, telling you my whole life story.”

“I do recognize you,” he whispered, his eyes showing other emotion than boredom for the first time in years, looking at you with care with a lazy smile plastered on his face, “of course I do. How’re things going?”

“Great, great, actually.” you nod and swallow thickly, shifting your weight from foot to foot and intertwining your hands in front of you. “Work is fine, the guys are doing good, too. Mitsuya has recently won an international design award! Can you believe it? He deserves it so much, he worked so hard for months.”

Mikey observed and listened to you ramble, it was like going back ten years in time and he was on cloud nine from thinking you still wanted to talk to him. Though the jealousy he felt when you started talking about Mitsuya was what returned him to the present. He was a gang leader, a dangerous criminal and he wasn’t supposed to interact with you, that was the whole purpose of pushing you away in the first place. With all the pain he could bear, he interrupted you once more, his bored facade returning to where it was meant to be.

“Nice to hear, I have to go, though. Bye, Y/n.” he said, walking past you and heading to his original destination.

“W—wait, Mikey! Please, I just want to know if you’re fine!” you exclaimed, running to catch him desperately. You tried to grab his arm, but he pulled it away without looking at you, his heart heavy on his chest.

“I’m fine. See you.” he mumbled and fastened his pace to lose you in the crowd of people that didn’t realize Bonten’s leader was walking among them.

You were left there, petrified, observing how the person that still haunted your nightmares walked away from you once more. It hurt, but you knew there was nothing you could do to fix the path he chose for himself. If it were for you, you would have stayed by his side as he once promised, carefully guiding him into a better life with all of his friends. However, the past was the past and there was no way to change it; you would have to live with the regret of giving up on him too soon.

As you returned home to a smiling Mitsuya, Mikey led the meeting to decide whether they annihilate an enemy gang or not. He knew, everyone knew what the outcome of the poll would be, but it was out of formality.

After that, he took out a cigarette, something he usually didn’t do, but the stressful situation he lived a few hours before drained him to the point of needing some nicotine in his system, and placed himself on the window of his office. The smoke coming out of his lips teased him as it formed a broken heart in the air, mocking Mikey’s. He sighed, remembering the way your eyes were tearing up at the sight of him, your soft cheeks warming and lips turning upwards. It was as if you were genuinely happy to see him again, the man who broke your heart in the most cruel way a human can bear.

After another puff, he let the cigarette die on his fingers, observing the dirty streets where they had to establish their hideout in order to hide from the police. He had done so many nonhuman things, he had killed so many people, directly and indirectly, that he thought he was unworthy of your glad expression.

“Shinichiro wouldn’t want this shitty life for you, you know?” he heard the deep voice of Takeomi coming from behind him, taking out a cigarette of his own and positioning himself next to his boss to light it, “He would be so fucking dissapointed.”

“As if you weren’t living the same life as me.” Mikey huffed, rolling his eyes at the older man’s reprimand.

“I’m not his brother.”

“But you were his friend.” the shorter man replied sharply, observing the already extinguished cigarette on his fingers.

Takeomi hummed, puffing and then exhaling the smoke filling his lungs, “That man, so weak both in fights and for women.” he laughed, a memory of his childhood friend coming back to him.

“He really was.”

There was silence between them after that, Takeomi smoking camly and Mikey just enjoying the company for once, the presence of another preventing him from falling into the well full of you again.

“I know you encountered her before.” the scarred man spoke again, dragging Mikey’s attention at the mention of you. He didn’t question how he knew, after all, they had contacts and lookouts in every corner of the country.

“Hmm.” nodded Mikey.

“As weak for a woman as your brother was.”

“The difference is that I wasn't rejected twenty times in a row.” Mikey scoffed, amused at the disastrous love life of his older brother.

“No, but he wouldn’t have let go of the woman he loved. He was more noble than you’ll ever be.” Takeomi puffed his cigarette again with a solemn glance at the polluted sky of Tokyo.

Mikey couldn’t argue with his logic, he was right. And it wasn’t as if he could pull a bullet into Takeomi’s skull, he needed his advisor to keep his business afloat. So he just shrugged his shoulders and ignored the presence of the older man.

“You already let go of your previous life, Mikey. Keep your shit together and commit to Bonten.”

Like that, Takeomi finished his cigarette and left a very angry Mikey with his affairs in the window. How dared him to give orders to his boss? How could he leave your memory behind and live in the present? The only thing keeping him sane were the past times he lived with his friends and you. Now he was just a vessel for his broken heart and stained soul.

He couldn’t remember when, but the Haitanis had informed him of some issues in one of the clubs they had in their territory that needed to be checked as soon as possible. Mikey was thinking about sending Mochi and Kakucho, but he needed a break, something to keep him away from the venom his mind was pushing towards him, so he took his bike and drived to the destination.

He wasn’t dressed in a fancy suit, nor did he wear an ID to prove he wasn’t fifteen, but with just a glance from the guards, they knew who he was and let him go inside. The baffling music coming from the speakers hid the moans of the couples fucking just in the entrance of the club. Some others were just consuming drugs on the tables in the right corner. Mikey felt disgusted, but this club was his, this was his life, what he had created.

As he walked towards the door leading to the private room, he caught the sight of a familiar dress, one he had already seen that same day some hours before. There you were, a green dress pressing against your body while you were sitting on a stool on the bar counter with Hina and Senju, smiling in the most delightful way Mikey could have thought existed.

What came to him he didn’t know, but next thing he knew he was grabbing your wrist and dragging you away from your friends, who just gasped in shock and yelled at him to free you. Fuck the club and fuck Bonten, he wanted you and only you, even if you didn’t want him back. But the lack of resistance on your end was enough confirmation to continue running down the street to his motorbike.

“Where are we going, Manjiro?” you asked in such a sweet voice he could drop to his knees and kiss your high heels.

“My house. Fine with you?” He took an extra helmet he kept in the vehicle and saw you nodding, lips turning upwards as he put the helmet gently on your head and tied it tight with his slender fingers. “Okay, princess, hop on.”

Everything was too blurry to remember, but somehow you both were on his bed making out, the taste of your lips and strawberry lipstick had him dizzy and desperate to touch you without restraint. His heart felt erratic and happy of indulging in what it desired the most, the only thing he loved infinitely.

His tongue rolled with yours, teeth clashing and lips kissing so hard you both were sure you would have them bruised the next morning. His lips trailed down your jaw to your neck, kissing straight to your sweet spot, it was an advantage to already know your body better than he knew his.

Your little mewls and whines were driving him mad, his boner poking the inside of your thigh as you welcomed him in between your legs. The green dress rolled up to your hips and Mikey thought it would be better to get rid of it immediately, he wanted to see your naked body again after so long.

“M-Manjiro, this is wrong.” you mumbled while you raised your arms to help him take your dress off. “I’m dating, hmm, Takashi.”

Mikey was already licking your nipples, completely delighted with the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra under that pretty dress. He sucked on it as he circled it with his tongue, his left hand squeezing your right breast. “Shh,” he cooed, “it’s not wrong, sweetheart. We are just paying our debt.”

“But—,” you interrupted yourself to gasp when Mikey bit your nipple, hips thrusting up and meeting his dressed ones.

“Just tonight, love.” his hands were at your hips now, fingers playing with your panties, “Allow yourself this.”

His fingers burn deliciously your skin, your panties gone and replaced with his mouth. You sighed in contentment and grabbed his hair with your right hand while your left played with your abandoned left breast.

He licked all the way up your cunt to your clit with a flat tongue, and then his lips closed on your bud and sucked, tongue circling around it and making you lose any sense of decency you could still uphold. His mouth working miracles on you, rubbing your cunt on his face trying to get more contact with it.

“M-Manjiro.” you whined and downed your left hand to his hair, too, feeling so good with just his tongue licking your clit.

“Fuck, baby, you taste so good.” Mikey muttered before introducing his tongue in your cunt, fucking you with it while his thumb took the roll his tongue had a second ago.

You were a moaning mess and before you could recall it, you were coming on his tongue and Mikey drank your juices without complaining, groaning happily. His thumb continued to rub your clit a little bit more to help you ride your orgasm, feeling you spasming under him.

He felt proud of himself, not believing he hadn’t forgotten the way your body worked in those last ten years. His dick was throbbing inside his pants, screaming to be freed and put into your pussy, his favorite to have it in. He gave your clit one last kiss before going up your body and kissing your lips again, your essence on his tongue still and forcing you to taste yourself.

Your hands took the outline of his pants, pushing down in want and panting on his mouth, begging silently for him to be quicker. He didn’t understand why, there was no rush, but at the same time he understood your desire as he felt the same. Having you underneath him again after so long, so beautiful lying naked on his bed.

“Is my baby needy?” he whispered while taking off his clothes, observing how your wet cunt was clenching around nothing, waiting to be filled with him.

“Please, Manjiro.” you begged, puppy eyes looking straight to his.

Mikey felt his chest tighten, he had never been able to say no to those eyes of yours and you knew it, you were playing dirty. Not losing more time, he aligned his dick to your entrance, red tip leaking pre-cum and with his thumb he spread it along his girth.

“All right, baby, you ready?” you nodded your head and Mikey clicked his tongue, lips turning upwards in a smug smirk. “Words, love.”

“Y-yeah, Manjiro, please.” he loved how you were unable to say anything else apart from his name and begging.

He then pushed inside you, your warm walls welcoming his cock once more as if it had never felt its place. You both moaned in absolute bliss, your arms hugging Mikey’s shoulders tighter and his hands grabbing your hips. He couldn’t wait for you to adapt, already moving his hips as he could with how tight you were.

“Fuck, love, you feel so good.” Mikey groaned over your moans.

The squelching and the skin against skin sound along with both your moans was all that could be heard in the room. The bed was creaking underneath you as Mikey thrusted into you, his tip rubbing against that spongy spot that made you see stars.

“Mikey, just like that, ah.” you mewled and Mikey felt like he was hanging off a cliff. Your voice was the sexiest thing he had ever heard.

He took both your ankles and pushed your legs towards your chest allowing him to thrust deeper into you, his tip now rubbing against your cervix, causing you to nearly scream of pleasure.

“I’m—I’m cuming, Mikey, I’m cuming, I’m, ngh.” you were mumbling, nonsense coming out of your mouth while Mikey kissed your cheeks, neck, jaw, collarbones, any flesh within his reach.

“Yeah, baby, cum on my cock, be a good girl.” you moaned at the praise and your walls tightened on his cock. “Fuck, fuck, love, like that. Gonna come inside you, gotta get you pregnant.”

“Yes, yes, I want your baby!” you exclaimed, hugging him closer to you.

Mikey felt as if he had died and was in heaven, having you with him, making love to you again and you screaming his name at the top of your lungs was his biggest dream. He felt the tears rolling down his cheeks, unable to contain them as he felt his climax closer.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” Mikey whispered in your ear, the sight of his tears out of love and his voice whispering sweet nothings to your ear was what you needed to come hard on his cock.

The man couldn’t contain it anymore, his cum painting your walls white as he shouted your name, your characteristic smell filling his nostrils. He felt so happy, so euphoric he could die in that instant in your arms, what he had wanted since he broke your heart that day ten years ago.

He didn’t want to pay his debt, he wanted to keep the back and forth of having to pay, and pay, and pay for your love because you keep giving your all to him. He wanted to be the source of your feelings the same way you continued to be his.

And as he pulled away from you, watching how both your cums intertwined and came out of your abused cunt, he knew there was nowhere else he would prefer to be in than in your arms, where he belonged.

Hugging your tired figure, he placed your head on his chest and cuddled you, kissing your temple once and once again, smiling honestly for the first time in years, your love being all he needed to be complete.

But the next morning, when he awoke and didn’t see you next to him, he felt his chest constrict. Had you left? Did you regret what happened the night before? He waited some minutes, hoping for you to be in the bathroom so he could see your naked body return to bed with him.

However, five minutes went on, then ten, fifteen, twenty, and no one else seemed to be in his apartment except for him. His eyes watered, and it was when it hit him: there was no trace of your smell, no sign of any sexual activity happening in that bed, either.

Had he dreamed it? Fuck, fuck, fuck. He felt anxiety filling his chest, it wasn’t enough with you plaguing his mind during the day, but now he dreamed of you and your love at night. He screamed, broken, the vessel keeping his already lost soul losing every piece remaining.

He didn’t want Bonten, nor did he want a criminal life anymore. He wanted you. You, you, you. He loved you and he wanted to be able to keep telling you for the rest of his life. But you didn’t owe him anything, not after what he did to you. There was no way you would have cheated on Mitsuya for him.

All that love he had for you was just spreading on the air with no target. Would he ever find yours? If he found it, would the debt finally be paid?

And when he arrived at the hideout two hours after and saw the pitiful glances his subordinates were giving him, he didn’t know if he was annoyed, angry or if he wanted to cry again. Feelings didn’t exist anymore, the lines between them were too blurred to be real.

“What.” he mumbled, sitting on his chair.

The rest of the executives shared panicked looks between them, opting for it to be Kokonoi who showed him the Instagram post that had been posted eight hours ago.

Mikey observed it, it was your account and in the picture he could see you and Mitsuya happily smiling at camera, standing on a beautifully decorated rooftop and your hand pulled toward the objective, showing a small but elegant ring placed on your left fourth finger.

His heart broke even more if it was possible, fate being as cruel as to make him dream of being with you once more when that same night you had said yes to be Mitsuya’s future wife. He had found his love, it was right next to you. And he had been looking for yours, searching in the most remote places, only to find it in Mitsuya. Your love was in Mitsuya. It should be him, he should be the one next to you in the picture. He should be the one whispering he loved you every second of the day. He should be the one planning his proposal. He should be the one you loved.

But he wasn’t and there was nothing that could hurt him more than that reality. He let you go and pushed you right to one of his best friend’s arms. Mikey had promised you to be there forever, to never leave your side, but he only kept that promise in dreams, apparently.

And as his gun was pressing bullets against the skulls of a rival gang some hours later, he prayed for you. He asked the angels to be at your side and keep you happy, because he wouldn’t be there, that much was true, but he would love you forevermore. Debt paid.

#mikey x reader #mikey sano #mikey sano x reader #sano mikey x reader #bonten mikey #bonten #bonten kokonoi #bonten takeomi #bonten haitanis #bonten sanzu #bonten kakucho #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokrev mikey #Spotify

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221bshrlocked · 3 years

Text

Be My Enemy, Be My Remedy

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Words: 9647 (again, I wish I was sorry but I’m not)

Warnings: Angst and Smut. Rough sex. Breeding kink (sorry not sorry). Touch “kink” due to touch starvation.

Summary: You couldn’t really consider him as a friend, not because you didn’t want him to be but because he never gave you any inclinations for wanting to change your little “happy-hunting” arrangement, whatever that even was. So, that left you as partners...at best. But a mission gone wrong forces the Mandalorian to reevaluate his relationship with you, finally realizing you were not his enemy but the complete opposite.

A/N: Fasten your seatbelts ladies and gentlemen, here is the second Mando fic. I seem to be incapable of writing Smut without Angst, I don’t know why. Please let me know how I’m doing in the comments and how I can improve. Thank you!! Some quick notes: Beskad is a Mandalorian Sword and the Whistling Bird releases small guided munitions from the vambrace (forearm brace). I planned on including some *whispers* weapon porn but I got sidetracked and so expect some beskad and glove smut in the next fic enshallah.

For a bounty hunter who prided himself in never getting distracted from the hunting trade, the Mandalorian sure was preoccupied by the crystal spires reaching farther than the eye could see. You couldn’t blame him though, Christophsis was among the most exquisite of planets and not just those belonging to the Savareen sector. You followed behind and continued to glance next to you to make sure the crib was floating nearby.

“Where are you you doshing little shabuir? I know you’re around here somewhere.” You whispered to yourself as you kept moving away from the busyness of the noisy bazaar, hoping to the maker that the child wouldn’t wake up from the sharp calls of drunkards and sellers arguing over horribly brewed spotchka.

“Hey, told you to watch your language around the kid.” The Mandalorian hissed at you from ahead, turning his head slightly towards your narrowed eyes and glaring at you through the visor. Or at least that’s what you thought he was doing. With the way he was currently moving through the quieter streets, you knew he was definitely not happy with where the three of you ended up, let alone your lack of respect for his ‘parenting’ methods.

“Relax big guy, he’s in his crib dreaming of all the frogs his soft little heart wishes he could eat. Besides, you told me I need to practice my Mando’a.” You motioned towards the crib and rolled your eyes at him, raising an eyebrow when you saw the minuscule shake of his helmet before he looked down at the tracking fob.

“Not around the kid…” You couldn’t help but chuckle at his response because he just had to always get the last word in. Mando hoped his rough response would distract you from the way his body seemed to react to being called ‘big guy.’ He knew what you were referring to and yet he felt goosebumps erupt on his strictly covered skin at the thought of you saying those specific words but under different circumstances.

“Waadar Ke'sush'.” He hissed more to himself than you and didn’t bother to respond when you asked him what those words meant.

As you made your way towards the skirts of the town, you felt a pair of eyes boring into your neck and knew instantly the quarry must have known you were here. And you knew the Mandalorian could sense his presence as well when he placed the tracking fob back into his pocket and trailed his hands down to the blaster on his hip. You wished you could ask him why he continued to walk towards the forest but knew better than to question his methods. Any conversation held between the two of you might spook the bounty and the last thing you needed was to make a scene on a planet you weren’t that fond of being on to begin with.

But it was getting a tad bit annoying once you were far enough past the trees and the Mandalorian continued to walk through the brightly-colored plants.

“Shouldn’t we-” Before you could finish the question, Mando was turning around and shooting at a large tree not twenty feet behind you. You pushed the crib out of the way before taking out the beskad as well, squinting your eyes to try and see where the wanted Rodian was.

“Dank farrik!” You swore when you realized the Mandalorian was more likely to get a better shot than you because of the heat-sensors in his helmet. You felt useless, torn between shooting wherever he was and making sure the kid wasn’t harmed in the crossfire.

“Watch out,” it took you a second too late to realize that Mando was yelling at you and you fell backwards as one of the beams roughly grazed your thigh. As you attempted to wrap a band around the wound, you heard the familiar sound of the crib opening and before you could do anything, the child was already approaching you, his eyes filled with worry as he stretched out his little hand and shut his eyes.

“Oh no you don’t,” you put the hand down and make quick work of the wound, about to stand up and put the kid back into his crib.

“Haar'chak,” you looked up as soon as you heard the Mandalorian swear at the top of his lungs, the vocoder not hiding his anger and causing you to lose your equilibrium for a split moment. This was not the time to dwell on the effects his voice had on you or the fact that he was angry at you getting hurt. You wished to dwell on the latter thought for a little bit longer but shook your head to clear the haze his voice placed you under.

Putting the sharp Mandalorian weapon back into the holster, you realized you were of no use to the Mandalorian now that you were compromised, deciding to make sure the child was safe instead of running after the Rodian with him. But that plan was gone as soon as it came once you looked down and realized why the Mandalorian swore.

The kid wasn’t next to you.

In fact, he was nowhere near you.

Turning around, you saw the bounty holding the child against his chest, a knife in one hand and a blaster aimed at the little one’s head in the other.

“Wait,” you held out your hands against your partner and the quarry, refusing to let anything happen to the kid because of some stupid bounty. And as hard as you tried to dismiss it, you felt hurt at knowing that the Mandalorian was angry because the kid was taken and not because you were hurt.

“You’re getting soft Mandalorian,” the bounty, Tig Bayantik, smiled as he taunted the man behind you and you hoped he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“Let him go,” the growl that emitted from the vocoder could have brought you to your knees under other circumstances, and you turned to look at Mando before returning your focus on the kid. Your heart broke at the thought of him getting hurt because of one simple and stupid mistake you made. A mistake that should cost you your life and not his or his father’s.

“Alright alright, everyone just calm down.” You forced a smile and kept your hands in Tig’s eyesight so he wouldn’t misinterpret your movements. “Let’s solve this like the rational adults we are. Tig, what do you want...besides us not coming after you?” You raised your eyebrows at him, hoping to steer the conversation your way until you trapped him with an offer. An offer you were most definitely going to regret as soon as it left your lips. But there was no other option. The last thing you expected was for something like this to happen. The child was only ever in dangerous situations when one of you was caring for him, never when the two of you were around. This was not ideal and you hated what you were willing to do to ensure his safety.

“Simple, your chain code for the kid.” He pointed at Mando and smiled when he noticed him shift uncomfortably.

“Why?” The Mandalorian hissed his question and you sighed annoyingly because since when did he ever question anything that had to do with the little womp rat.

“Since when do you ask questions Mandalorian?” Tig screamed and held the kid too tightly to your liking, causing you to lean forwards when you heard him cooing and moving his little hands towards you.

“Alright,” hoping he would follow your lead, you reluctantly took the beskad out of its holster and threw it at Mando, ignoring the obvious discomfort shedding off of him. As you asked him to give you the tracking fob, the Mandalorian thought of ten different ways where this could go from bad to worse now that you gave him the main weapon you had on you. He titled his head to the side when you asked him for the tracking fob and reluctantly threw it at you, watching in annoyance as you dropped it to the floor and stomped on it twice until it broke beneath your feet.

“I’ll do you one better, me for the little womp rat who couldn’t stay in his fucking crib a second longer.” You could see Mando’s little head tilt from your peripheral vision and weren’t sure if it was because he hated that you swore in front of the kid again or because he was most certainly not going to follow along with the sharade and considered the idea incredibly idiotic. Before he could say anything, you took a few steps forward, hands aimed towards the turquoise skies while silently praying to the maker that your hunch would be correct. When you saw Tig’s hands twitch and begin to lower the blaster from the kid, you knew you had him.

“You must be desperate.” Tig held onto the kid tighter and you hoped he wouldn’t question you anymore because at this point, you were sure you would be the one doing something stupid to get him back.

“No, I’m just the moof-milker who wasn’t supposed to care about some tinman and his foundling...and yet here I am.” Your admission filled the silent air and you thought you heard the bounty hunter lightly gasp behind you but knew better. Call it wishful thinking but if you were to ever make it alive out of this situation, with no one harmed, you were going to think of finally telling him how you feel. How you’ve felt ever since you joined his clan. No, that wasn’t it. You weren’t part of his clan. You just...were.

“I don’t have a single weapon on me...not even a whistle. Plus, I’ll fetch for a good price on Malachor…” You turned to your partner and held back from smiling once you saw the minuscule nod he threw at you. He couldn’t afford one of the munitions from his whistling bird hitting the kid, but he could use it if you took his place...or so you thought at least.

“That’s the...they pay in-” As Tig tripped over his words, you held back a sigh of relief because he was finally falling for the trap.

“That’s right baby, they pay exclusively in Nova Crystals...only a moron would let the opportunity slide from his fingers. Come on, what do you say? Last I heard, I was worth five-” Before you could finish your sentence, Tig was setting the child down on the ground, the blaster instantly aimed at your head so you wouldn’t think of escaping. You waited until the kid ran to the Mandalorian before stepping towards the Rodian in front of you.

“Smart man,” you hissed when he grabbed your arm and twisted it behind your back before pulling you flush to his chest, making sure the Mandalorian didn’t have an opening to shoot him.

“Our business here is finished Mandalorian,” Tig warned the beskar-clad hunter and you instantly felt sorry for him because it was one thing to threaten the kid but a whole other to warn him. As he stepped back and took you with him, you took a deep breath and shut your eyes, praying that if and when the munition hit you, it wouldn’t hurt badly. You snorted loudly before you could silence yourself and the Rodian dug his nails into your forearms. “What’s so funny girly?”

“Girly? Oh you’re dead meat now.” Almost instantly, you heard the Mandalorian fire two small munitions from his vambrace, falling backward in pain when sure enough, one of them broke the skin of your hip right before it hit the bounty in his side. He immediately rolled you down beneath him and was about to shoot you right between your eyes if it weren’t for the Mandalorian running towards the two of you and kicking his head. Your eyes widened in surprise when you realized he fainted from how hard the hit was, gaze instantly landing on the man standing above your battered body. You could tell he was definitely killing you in a thousand different ways but feigned ignorance at the obvious anger, smiling when the green goblin waddled towards you and stretched his hands out again.

“I thought I told you not to do that,” you warned him again, struggling to stand up and ignoring the heat rushing through your clothes when you felt Mando support your back. He let go when he noticed the way you reacted to him, thanking the maker for the helmet that hid his hurt expression. As you put the child back in his crib and shut it to ensure he wouldn’t get out again, you turned around and found the Mandalorian violently cuffing Tig and forcing him to stand up. He was a little dazed but knew better than to attempt and fight the Mandalorian. If you could feel the rage rolling off of him, then the Rodian was certainly aware of it as well. You kept on glancing at him and noticed the way he was clutching the beskad, a part of you hurt that he didn’t return it to you once he cuffed the bounty. There weren’t any more dangers, to your knowledge, but it still felt like he was purposely ignoring the weapon in his hand. Maybe he just didn’t trust you with it at the moment. You couldn’t blame him if he was reluctant to hand it to you ever again. It was a most valuable position and he was technically crossing a line by allowing you to use it so the fact that you felt the need to give it back to him must have struck a sensitive nerve. As your eyes took in his rigid form sulking and strutting ahead of you, you hated the way you were reacting to him holding onto the beskar sword and shook your head at how absolutely fucked up your mind was for thinking of him using that beskad a little differently on you.

The four of you made your way back to the Razor Crest in silence and you could tell the couple merchants left in the bazaar were staring at you as you made your way through the alleys. But you didn’t care for any of that because you now had another issue at hand. There was no way the Mandalorian wasn’t going to ask about why there is, or was, a bounty on your head. Those on Malachor who wanted you were known across the Outer Rim Territories, not because of the nature of their work but because of the history tied with them. Only a fool with a death wish would mess with the Zabraks and the Mandalorian was no idiot. He’d heard you saying how much you were worth. You knew he would never try and take up that bounty for himself, at least you hoped he wouldn’t. Not after everything you’ve been through.

But there was no way he wasn’t going to ask you to leave. The longer you thought about it, the quicker you realized he was probably going to just leave you on Christophsis. The kid was too important to him and he couldn’t afford losing him.

Hell, he was too important to you. Both of them were. And you wouldn’t want to take that chance if you were in his place.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of the Crest, clutching at your side and looking around you to make sure no one was following you. You pushed the crib up the ramp and vaguely heard the sound of the carbon freezer going off, muffling the rage of the Rodian who was sure he was going to be richer than the Empire in a matter of hours should he have taken you.

Reluctance filled your heart and you thought it better to not bother and attempt to get on the ship when you knew its owner no longer welcomed your presence. Looking to the side, you saw a dimly-lit turquoise tree bark on its side facing the lake behind the ship. Barely making it across, you threw yourself down and sighed, opening your eyes and looking out to the different shades of blue coloring the luminescent lake. You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there and you didn’t care. It was too beautiful to let your worries run with you.

It was bound to happen.

“What did I say about wasting time we don’t have?” The Mandalorian’s voice broke your daydreams and you jumped at the modulated voice, crying in pain when the gash at your hips oozed out more blood.

“Pfassk!” Hearing him swear beneath his breath before getting down on his knees to get a better look at the wound gave you butterflies in your stomach and you thought back to what happened earlier with the kid. Maybe he did care if you got hurt after all.

“It isn’t bad. The bacta spray will take care of this.” He grabbed your arm and helped you to your feet, his visor turning away from you when he met your eyes.

“You mean...o-on the ship?” You wished you didn’t sound so helpless but the thought of not being turned away from him put you at ease and you hoped he wasn’t just going to help you get back on your feet before leaving you. He wasn’t that cruel...

“No in the cantina.” His response was instant and you couldn’t hold back the laughter from bubbling up your throat even if you tried.

“Did- did you just make a joke? Maker, you...hah, you actually made a joke. Did I hit myself on the head or did you j-”

“Enough,” his grasp tightened around your upper arm and you swallowed the lump in your throat when his gruff voice hit your core. As soon as you went up the ramp, Mando was shutting it behind him, pushing you towards your cot in the back before leaving for the cockpit. You didn’t know what else to do so you decided to sit there until he returned. The bacta spray was in his quarters and there was no way in hell you were going to go there. You were barely hanging by a thread and feared how he’d react if he found you going through his things.

The bounty hunter, on the other hand, purposely left you there for a few moments to try and get himself together. As he plotted the course to Nevarro, and made sure everything was in place, he thought back to what you were willing to do to ensure the kid’s safety. And he wished he didn’t feel his heart swell with anticipation following your confession. Sure he knew you care for the child, you’d proven on many occasions that you have. But hearing you admit you cared about him stirred something into his chest, a feeling he purposely ignored these past few months of having you on the ship. A feeling which he tried his hardest not to humor because as far as he knew, you were strictly business partners, and nothing more. Hell, the two of you barely considered yourselves as that considering how often you headbutted during the hunts. He was forced to bring you on board because a pair of extra eyes were necessary to make sure the kid was safe. Had anyone asked him weeks ago about what he thought of you, he would have said he considered you as an acquaintance, since the word ‘enemy’ would have been a little too harsh.

Of course that would have been a blatant lie because this same feeling residing in the pit of his stomach grew every time he saw you interact with the child. Something about seeing you switch from being a deadly bounty hunter to a caring m-, a caring woman, made his chest swell with need and...dare he say, hope. It was a feeling unlike any other.

A feeling which quickly turned into a deep yearning when he finally noticed the effect he had on you as he tried to help you onto the Crest. He felt guilt wash over him because the purpose of the heat sensors was to track his bounties and not to fill his eyes with your heated skin and warm c-

A loud crash brought him out of his haze and as he descended the stairs and looked towards your cot, dread filled his soul. You must have lost more blood than he initially thought because you were lying on the ground with the child attempting to move out of his crib.

In an instant, he was carrying you into the makeshift bed, head shaking when he looked at you and saw you deliriously giggling at him.

“Must I almost die for you to finally remember I-” You attempted to joke to put him at ease but regretted it immediately when you realized it had the opposite effect on him.

“Shut up.” He left you sitting on the bed before bringing the kid to his quarters, warning him not to get out of his crib before aggressively grabbing the kit and returning to your side.

“Take your shirt off.” He barked out the command without giving too much thought to it and winced when he realized how careful he must be when he’s talking to you, especially now when you looked so weak and...fuck. No. He can’t think like that.

“P-pardon?” You were visibly shaking at the sudden request and wished you weren’t thinking of-

“Do you not speak Basic anymore? Take the kriffing shirt off.” You flushed under his gaze and looked away from him as you tried to remove the ripped article of clothing. When you hissed and lowered your arm, Mando sighed in annoyance because of course you wouldn’t be able to raise your arm.

“Not all of us can hide the pain behind a mask Mando, I just ne-” He didn’t let you finish your comment, setting everything aside and softly grabbing the hem of your shirt. You forgot how to breathe for a moment, looking at him quizzically when he remained unmoving for a few seconds. It occurred to you that he was probably waiting for your permission and you nodded slightly before looking everywhere else but him. Mando tried his hardest to control his reaction at seeing your soft skin and he was sure he was doing a good job until he saw your nipples harden behind the chest band.

Clearing his throat once, Mando stood up and helped you take your shoes off before preparing the bacta spray. “Will you...can you remove your pants?” His question was filled with reluctance and you wished with all your heart you could tease him about his tone but didn’t trust how he’d react to you.

“I-I’m sorry I- can’t. It hurts to bend d-”

“Okay.” For maker knows what time that day, Mando cut you off and moved closer to you, willing himself to take deep breaths as he unzipped the front of your pants and held them at your hips. As you raised yourself to help him get the pants off, you couldn’t help but gasp as soon as you felt his gloved hands make contact with your skin. Mando stopped moving and kept his visor away from your face towards the medical supplies on the bed to give you some form of privacy. He could hear your heartbeat elevate, could feel your skin growing hotter beneath his touch, could almost smell the scent of your arousal sticking to the humid air. But he chose to ignore it, all of it.

Slowly pulling the pants off, he maneuvered you around until you were facing towards the wall.

“This might hurt a bit Ad'ika.” The endearment left his lips before he could stop himself and he felt you still under his touch.

“What- what does that mean?” Your voice was weaker than usual and he didn’t know he could feel any guiltier than before but the way you responded to his touch and his voice had him growing hard in his pants and if it weren’t for the fact that you entrusted him with caring for you, he would have pushed you down to the bed and swallowed those little sighs and whimpers until you begged him to stop.

“I’ll tell you later.” The Mandalorian was never one to avoid such simple questions and you knew he could definitely see goosebumps growing across your skin once you realized why he might be refusing to tell you now.

You felt the cold sting of the bacta spray spread across your thigh and grabbed the nearest object to you which so happened to be his forearm. Shutting your eyes harder than intended, you hissed out in pain when you felt him mirror your actions and tighten his fingers around your wrist.

“Ni'm Ni ceta, Cyar'ika.” He whispered as he moved you around to face him, not giving you a chance to adjust to the position as he sprayed your hip. You didn’t let go of his arm once and felt hot tears rolling down your cheeks the more he pressed the medication into the open gash across your hip. He continued to whisper in Mando’a and you found it more soothing than you liked to admit even though you understood absolutely nothing of what he was saying.

“M-mando please...I can’t- s-stop ple-” You cried out when the bacta spray hit the deepest corner of the cut, hands instantly moving to his shoulder and fisting into his cowl before unintentionally pulling him closer to you. Mando placed the top of his helmet against your forehead, willing himself to continue and care for you even though his touch was only bringing you pain in that instant. He almost shook his head when he noticed what he was doing, the gesture going completely unnoticed by you because he never told you what it meant in his culture to lean one’s head against another’s. He enjoyed the moment and whispered his apologies the harder you began to shake in his arms.

“Gedet'ye Cyare, I’m almost done. Take a deep breath for me,” he waited until you sucked in as much air as you could before applying the bacta spray to the last corner of the wound, setting it down and staring into the gash until he saw it slowly closing. You weren’t sure how long he sat there looking at you but you knew he could see the effect he had on you because his visor moved back and forth from the wound to where your thighs shifted. Once he was sure the skin was almost healed, he stood up and stepped away from you, already missing the heat of your skin touching his clothed armor.

“Vor entye,” you weren’t sure why you felt the need to thank him in his mother tongue and hoped he wouldn’t dwell too much on it as you attempted to stand up. As you held out your arms to keep your balance, the Mandalorian was next to you in the blink of an eye, holding onto your waist to prevent you from falling over.

“You need to get some rest.” He half-yelled at you and you wished he wasn’t standing so close to you because one more rough command and you were going to fall on your knees and beg him to fuck your mouth.

“No, I need to use the refresher.” You were surprised by how steady your voice came out and refused to be distracted by the way his fingers continued to twitch against your bruised hips.

“You can barely stand without my help.” Mando was frustrated beyond measure and recalled back to what he was thinking of when he was in the cockpit. A slow realization came to him and he stepped away from you when he knew it was never anger that bugged him whenever you challenged his commands, but frustration. More particularly, sexual frustration. Because if there was ever a time you looked absolutely divine, it was when you were fuming and yelling at him at the top of your lungs. And for some odd reason, he loved seeing you stand up to him.

“I am using the refresher. I feel sweaty and disgusting and wet a-” You probably shouldn’t have said that last bit because Mando was letting go of you and collecting the supplies, not bothering to look back at you as he unlocked his cot and set the kit aside before checking on the kid.

You mentally smacked yourself at the ridiculous word vomit and grabbed the nearest dry shirt and undergarments before wobbling to the refresher. Once the Mandalorian was sure you were in the refresher, he took the child to his little space near your cot and rubbed behind his ears until he fell asleep. He kept on looking at the door of the refresher, a part of him worried you’d slip and hit your head if it became too foggy in there.

He was finally allowing his thoughts to become less hostile and worried when he picked up on a faint groan. Standing against the refresher door, he remained silent and shook his head when he heard you moan a string of ‘fucks’ a few times before something fell.

“Pfassk,” shutting the curtain around the child, the Mandalorian walked to his cot and began to strip out of his armor. He refused to dwell too much on what he was about to do and the meaning behind his actions. Before long, Mando was standing in the middle of the Crest as nude as the day he was born and he took a deep, calming breath before taking off his helmet and setting it on the ground. Walking to the control box, he shut the lights off and ignored your sudden cries at losing sight of the room.

He approached the refresher and hoped what he was about to do wouldn’t pull your relationship apart, whatever that relationship was. Unlocking the door, he waited at the foot of the small room before stepping in, the heat of your shower already making him lose his mind.

“Mando?” Your voice came out hoarse and he dug his nails into the palms of his hands to prevent himself from jumping on you right then and there.

“Hmm.”

“Why...w-what are you doing?” He hated how much fear was laced in your words and realized you might completely misunderstand his actions.

“Making sure you won’t fall and die on me.” The Mandalorian hoped his voice emitted some semblance of control and when you said nothing, he panicked and thought of the worst. Unbeknownst to him, you were struggling for a response not because you wanted him to leave but because he wasn’t wearing his mask. He chose to take his mask off and be in the same room as you. True the lights were off and you couldn’t see even a foot ahead of you but it was still a big deal, even more so for him. And maker, his voice was smoother than the finest Opaline Creed honey. You weren’t sure what you expected it to sound like but you genuinely thought the vocoder was what made it sound so guttural. Turns out, it was already smooth and deep and was just intensified through the helmet. You felt your legs shaking at the knowledge of hearing that same voice whispering the filthiest things in your ears and instantly decided to move away from that grey area.

“T-thank you.” The soft exclamation shot through his spine and he didn’t bother to slow his movements as he pushed open the door of the even smaller privy and stepped through. Years of adapting to the mask as well as walking around in the darkness of his ship without it allowed him to see where you were standing. He could just make out the shape of your curves and held back a moan when the water hit his tired muscles. You refused to move an inch, afraid to break whatever spell fell over the two of you and allowed you to be in close proximity. The bounty hunter rarely articulated his inner thoughts and emotions so anything you could say might genuinely spook him.

When your hand fell from your chest to try and readjust the heat of the water, it accidentally trailed over his skin and you gasped when it finally occurred to you that yes, he was very much as naked as you. His mask was not the only thing that was off. You weren’t sure what that meant for him or for you apart from the fact that he felt the need to strip off his armor, physically and metaphorically, to ensure your safety.

“M-mando…”

“Mesh'la, if you keep calling for me with that sinful voice, I- I am not sure I will be able to restrain myself.” For the first time since you’d joined him on the ship, Mando was losing his patience and control, and he hoped his words wouldn’t scare you away. He never sounded so...breathy? Was that even the right word? It took you a few longer moments to finally register what his words meant and you set the soap on the shelf before stepping towards him. You could sense the moment he acknowledged just how close you were to him because he finally let himself react to your heat and gasp at knowing you were within arm’s reach.

“T-then don’t…” The words were left hanging in the damp air around you and you thought you crossed a line which he so obviously sounded like he didn’t wish to move past.

But Mando was on you in the blink of an eye, grabbing your hips and pushing you roughly until your back hit the cold wall, the feeling of his wet skin sliding against yours turning you on way more than it should. Before you could have any time to react to the sudden movement, Mando was leaning down and hoisting you up against the cool metal, moaning against your cheeks when your legs crossed behind his back and pulled his achingly hard cock to your heated core.

“Mando, oh fuck- I...y-you’re-” You wrapped your arms arond his neck and felt the soft hair at the nape of his neck tickle your skin. You couldn’t hold back even if you tried, fingers instantly fisting in his hair and finding it much longer than you thought it would be. Mando groaned and felt himself growing harder as you bucked your hips against him and the thought of finally sheathing himself inside you drove him mad with lust. He felt how warm your cunt is and his knees almost gave out when for a moment, he brushed against your clit and felt you whimper beneath him.

“Ad'ika, I- I need you...I burn for you. Please, sweet girl, will you let me have you? I can feel you pulling me in...can smell your wetness calling for me.” You were sure you died and joined the stars because the man before you rarely spoke and here he was spilling his heart’s deepest desires unabashedly and rather enthusiastically. You threw your head back as he bucked his hips against you and bit down on your neck, smiling when you knew you’d wake up to numerous bruises and marks coloring your skin and showing the universe whom you belonged to.

“Please...pl-please, I'm yours Mando, do what you want with me. T-take whatever you want, ohh ffuh- fuck me until I...till I can’t feel anything but your cock. Kriffing hell I-” Mando couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. He knew he should prepare you for him. He knew he should make sure he wasn’t forcing you into anything. But your words nudged at that primal lust he reserved for you and in that moment, only one thing mattered.

Making sure he marked every single inch of you until he didn’t know where he ended and you began.

With as much focus as he could muster up, Mando trailed one of his hands down your thighs and took himself in his hand, jerking the head of his cock against your wet slit and feeling you shiver at his ministrations. Bracing his feet better against the warm floor, Mando ceased to breathe as he thrust harshly inside you, swallowing your moans as he brought his lips against yours. The two of you couldn’t move a muscle for a few seconds and Mando thanked the maker you weren’t trying to meet his hips because he was sure he would cum right then and there should you clench any harder around him. You couldn’t get enough of the way his tongue danced against your lips and you tried your hardest to keep kissing him for as long as possible. But then he was pulling away and nipping at your neck, and you swore he was going to be the death of you because you never pictured him with a beard and now you were feeling it rubbing against your already hyper-sensitive skin.

“Mand-” You whimpered into his lips once more and felt him become more aggressive by the second.

“None of that...my name is- it’s Din. Remember it, memorize it...fucking say it as you take my cock into that wet, tight cunt of yours. I-I want you to scream my name as I fuck you sweet girl...I want to hear these walls shaking with how much I pleasure you.” You couldn’t wrap your head around what he’d just willingly allowed you to know. It was too much to take in and you felt tears rolling down your cheeks as you realized what this man has done for you in the span of a few hours. Din faintly heard you sniff and hoped he wasn’t hurting you in any way.

“Din,” he curled into you as soon as his name left your lips, unable to stop himself from pulling out and plunging back into you time and again just to hear you whisper his name in his ears. He was intoxicated by the little sounds you were emitting, squeezing your thighs and making sure you were holding yourself up as he began to pound into you until the only sounds left in the small room were his skin slapping against yours and the running water.

“Oh- gah...D-Din, I-” You couldn’t form a proper sentence even if you tried, fingers digging into his back as you felt his cock hit near your cervix. Before you knew it, you were clenching around him, screaming his name as you arched your back and came on his dick. Din growled when he felt you squeeze his cock, his hips stuttering for a moment before he continued to fuck you with abandon, carrying you over the edge once more until you were a moaning mess.

“Fuck, ah Cyare...you’re everything I dreamed of a-and so much kriffing better...I- I want to brand you darling...I want to leave my mark on every single one of your holes. So, fucking, good for me,” Din couldn’t believ what he was saying because a part of him felt guilty for using such filthy language with you. But he didn’t want to stop, he wanted you to know how much you affected him. He yearned for you and wished with all his being to become one with you in every single possible way.

“Din, Din...oh pfassk- cum for me. Cum for me please, fill me up...let me feel you hot and deep inside me.” You begged for him and prayed to the stars he wouldn’t be turned off by what you were asking of him.

“Mesh'la...you- is that what you want? You want me to cum inside this sweet little cunt? Want to walk around with my seed leaking down your thighs- ah fuck, you’re a dream. A kriffing dream...and you’re all mine. Mine to fuck when I please, mine to mark- ah by the gods woman...mine to fucking breed when I feel like it.” Din was no longer in control of himself, grinding his teeth before he leaned down and attacked the skin of your chest. You clenched around him when you felt his teeth nip at your nipples a little harder than you liked. But you didn’t have the heart to tell him to go easier on you. It was intoxicating how much he wanted you and you didn’t want this to end because now that you’ve had a taste of how much of a generous lover he is, you didn’ want to give it up, even if it meant having purple and blue spots coloring your body the following day.

“Yes, yes...Din, ‘m all yours. Please-” He wasn’t sure if it was your desperate pleas that forced him to cross that threshold or if it was how sinfully warm your cunt felt as he thrust into you time and again. But it didn’t matter because Din was close to losing his mind as he stilled all his motions, cock pulsating and shooting his seed so deep inside you he was sure you were going to have another kid running around the ship. In all honesty, the Mandalorian was not sure he wanted to have another child but the image of your grown belly was engraved into his mind now and he didn’t know if he could ever stop himself from bending you over every part of the ship, at any given moment in time, and breeding you until you couldn’t feel anything but his hot cum filling your insides.

You were gasping for air at this point, leaning down and sucking on his Adam's apple just to get a rise out of him. You smiled when he unintentionally jutted against you and somehow managed to push his hot seed deeper inside you. Maybe he was more touch-starved than you initially thought...

“Mine. All mine,” he whispered right before slowly setting you down on the ground and you hissed when you felt him pull out, the sudden emptiness making you wish he could stay inside you just a little while longer.

“Come on, it’s going to get cold soon.” His words seemed calculated and you almost got a whiplash from how quickly he managed to compose himself. As he shut the water off and stepped out, you were met with a thousand doubts and the Mandalorian must have sensed your reluctance because he grabbed your arm and forced you to get out of the privy, quickly wrapping a towel around you before opening the door of the refresher and pulling you along with him.

A quick look at the child’s curtain and Din knew he was still fast asleep. Not knowing what to say after your activities, Mando unlocked the door to his quarters and turned around to face you, taking hold of your towel and softly passing it over your wet skin until he was sure you were dry enough to not catch anything. You waited patiently until he dried himself off and stood there in silence, hoping he wasn’t going to turn you away.

You felt a faint touch smoothing through your fingers before engulfing the palm of your hand and you let yourself smile at the thought of Din being so shy with you even after the last hour or so. You stepped closer to him and rested your head on his chest, rubbing your cheeks on him before kissing across the scarred expanse of his skin. Din was having a hard time, in more ways than one, keeping himself in check but feeling your lips leave open-mouthed kisses on him broke the thin thread he was hanging by.

Before you could say anything, Din was leaning down and carrying you in his arms, immediately taking your lips into his as he kneeled down and stepped into his cot. He quickly shut the door of the semi-private corner in hopes of not waking the kid. Now that he knew how loud you were capable of screaming, he wasn’t planning on terrifying the child and making him think he was hurting you in some way.

“Din-” You melted into his arms as his fingers massaged down your arms, stilling when they reached your navel before slowly pushing your thighs open.

“Cyare...the things I want to do to you. You make me want to lose control.” His admission twisted your stomach and you turned your head to the side to avoid his words because as much as you enjoyed hearing how much you affected him, it was embarrassing to listen to him praise you in such a way when up until hours ago, he barely managed to keep a conversation for more than five minutes. Din noticed the shift in your body language and retracted his fingers, choosing to lay them on the covers beneath you so you didn’t feel too overwhelmed with his presence.

“Did I offend you sweet girl?” He grinned against your cheeks before laying lazy kisses across your clavicle, smiling when he coaxed more needy moans out of you.

“N-no, no it’s...I- I’m just not used to-” You tripped over your words and wished he wasn’t distracting you with his lips so you could try and tell him what you were thinking of.

“Being told you’re a good girl?” Mando could tell he struck a nerve because you shifted your thighs and arched your back against him when his hand shot to your legs to keep them from closing.

“I- uhh, that’s n-not wha-”

“Come on Mesh'la, since when do you get so tongue tied while talking to me?” Din knew he was pushing all your buttons and wished you could finally lose it and try to challenge him because he was as ready as he’d ever be now that he sort of knew where you stood with him.

“Din, I don’t want you t- to think that I...that you need to do...this, because I...I can’t bear the thought of you pushing me away if you...oh maker, if you regret this tomorrow.”

Whatever the Mandalorian thought you were going to say, he was certainly not expecting such a nervous response to his actions. He wished he wasn’t so hostile with you since you joined him but he was only trying to protect the kid, and himself. The fact that you thought he was with you out of pity and not because of how much he wanted you was preposterous and as much as he wanted to ease all your worries away, he couldn’t deny how hard he became just from hearing your small voice telling him to not regret sleeping with you.

Without giving you any warning, Din pulled away from you, grabbing your hips aggressively before turning you on your stomach. You barely had any time to react as he forced you on your knees and shoved his hands into your hair to pull you against him. Your hands shot to his calloused ones and grabbed onto them like your life depended on it, whimpering and shaking in his arms as you felt his cock slide across your wet slit.

“Feel how much I want you Cyar'ika, how much I crave being inside this sweet cunt,” Din shoved three fingers inside your pussy and growled when he felt his cum mixed with your wetness and rolling down his palm. “You drive me mad with lust baby and there is nothing, absolutely nothing in this universe, that will ever convince me to not want you.”

“D-din…” You cried his name as he continued to fuck you with his fingers, not bothering to let up as he felt you reach your peak and gush down his hand onto the covers. You tried to grab his wrist and beg him to stop but he didn’t, couldn’t if he tried. Letting go of your hair, he slapped the hand grabbing at his wrist away before wrapping those same fingers around your throat, pushing you back against his chest as he continued to finger you until the only sounds he heard were your desperate pleas for him to slow down

“That’s right, scream my name sweet girl. Fuck...I could smell your cunt. L-let me have a taste, please.” Not bothering to wait for a response, Din pushed you down and laid between your thighs, immediately descending on your heated slit like a parched man in the middle of Tatooine looking for a drink of water. Your hands shot to his hair and pulled on it as soon as you felt his beard tickle the inside of your thighs. He was being rough, he knew he was being overbearing and a little too much. But he didn’t know how to respond to your doubts so he thought it best to show you just how much he needed you.

Din groaned as he licked and sucked on your clit and when you tried to push him away, he clasped his hands above your navel and kept you close to him, not caring that your thighs were crushing his head as he took your clit between his lips and roughly swiped his tongue on it.

“Ahh D-din I can’t…please n-no more-”

“You’ll take what I give you Mesh'la,” Din let go of you and kneeled above you for a few moments to allow you to catch your breath. When he could hear your heart rate almost return to normal, he once again turned you around on your stomach before raising your hips up against him. Spitting on his fingers, he jerked his cock a few times before repeating the action and rubbing it across your pussy, chuckling when you tried to lean away from him.

“Don’t even try to run away from me. You asked me if I really wanted to fuck you so, here is my answer. Take my cock like the sweet little girl you are,” nudging your wet lips with the painfully hard head of his dick, Din snapped his hips forward until he was completely sheathed inside you, his chest shaking with anticipation at the thought of being able to fuck you again.

“Oh kriffing hell you feel so tight around me, so wet and tight and perfect. Can you feel me Cyar'ika? Can you feel how much I burn for you, how much I need you- oh maker, you’re better than what I’ve dreamed of.” He didn’t care what that last admission implied because if it meant putting you at ease then he’d say it over and over again until you believed him. As he thrust into you relentlessly, you didn’t know what else to do except bite down on your forearms and beg for him, not sure if you wanted him to slow down or fuck into you harder.

“Ner...all mine. Don’t want anyone else, ne-never wanted anyone else. You’re it for me Mesh'la. Oh fuck, I could feel you pulling me in deeper sweet girl.” The Mandalorian could feel you shaking beneath him and his chest filled with shameless pride at the thought of knowing he was the one bringing you this much pleasure. He forced himself to keep his eyes open so he could see your dimly-lit body obeying his every command. When he saw you biting down on your hands, he fell forward on top of you and brushed your hair to the side, biting at your shoulder blades as he rutted against you.

“Your sounds belong to me...your sighs, your moans, your fucking pleas. They belong to me so don’t fucking hold back.” Din growled his commands into your neck before wrapping one arm across your sternum while the other maintained its violent hold on your hips to help you meet his thrusts. He pulled back up again and took you with him, continuing to whisper in your ears as he felt your cunt squeezing his cock before pushing it out. Your whole body convulsed in his arms and Din couldn’t believe what he felt rolling down his thighs. He maintained his hold on you as he rammed his dick inside you again, barely managing to turn your head around so he could kiss you.

And as he swallowed your whimpers, he marveled at how much you were willing to give him, feeling his heart skip a beat when he realized you have placed complete trust into his hands and allowed him to do what he wanted. The desperation of wanting to be with you in every possible way drove him mad and he barely recognized his own self when he pulled from your mouth and breathed heavily against your cheek.

“Fuck, ah kriffing hell- I don’t want to leave this cunt...want to fill it up with my cum till you can’t fucking breathe from how full you are. Fucking beautiful, letting me touch you, brand you...breed this tight pussy over and over again.”

“Din I- please...cum for me, I want to f-feel you cum inside me- I need you to- I can’t wait. Oh maker I l-lah ahh-” Din lost his rhythm as soon as he heard what you almost said to him, pushing you down beneath him as he shoved his cock a few times inside you before you felt him pulse against you, hot streams of his cum painting your walls and driving you over the edge one more time before completely stilling. His hips continued to buck against you and you knew he was trying his hardest to ensure you wouldn’t lose a single drop of his seed.

The two of you fell over and you hissed when Din pulled out and turned you over, immediately pushing his softening dick back inside you once he found a comfortable position. You laid your head against his chest and smiled when you heard his heart beat against your cheeks. The two of you sat in silence, with Din drawing patterns on your shoulders while you kissed the scars painting his skin.

It was a while later when you heard him sigh once that you knew what he wanted to say but was reluctant to admit.

“Go ahead, I know you want to ask.” You whispered to him, hoping any loud voice would break the blissful haze and make him turn you away, even though he told you there was no chance of him ever letting you go now.

“I didn’t want to presume I had a right to ask.” He leaned down and kissed your head before wiping away the wet hair from your face.

“You have the right to do anything you want with me, Din.” The Mandalorian was surprised by how matter-of-fact your admission sounded and he couldn’t understand how you made such an amount of trust sound so easy and straightforward.

“What do the Zabraks want with you, Cyar'ika? There are only a few of them around so you must have done something deserving of their attention.” He didn’t want to make it seem like he was judging you and hoped you didn’t misunderstand why he wanted to know.

“I- I may or may not have found an ancient “artifact” that belonged to an important ancestor of theirs...and I may or may not have given it to-” You didn’t know if you should tell him about the mutual friend and felt your chest tighten when he urged you to continue.

“To whom?”

“Ahsoka Tano.” His silence made you nervous and you were about to ask him if he was angry at you for not saying anything but he returned to massaging your back before speaking up again.

“That’s why she recognized you.” You heard his smile when he spoke and felt at ease immediately because he really was much softer than he let on.

“You noticed that did you,” you chuckled against him and hummed in pleasure when he pulled you up to kiss him.

“Did you mean that?” Din asked as he continued to touch every inch of your skin he had access to.

“Hmm?”

“That I have the right to-” He couldn’t finish the sentence because while he knew he meant every word he said, he wasn’t too sure about what you wanted from him.

“Yes, Mando.” Din frowned at your use of his nickname and rolled you under him, ignoring the way you whined as he slipped out of you.

“Don’t...please, sweet girl. Please say my name...when we’re alone.” There were so many promises hiding behind his request and you weren’t sure what you were supposed to say at such a heartfelt admittance.

“Din, I-”

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Anything you want with me, from me...I’m yours Din, always.” You laid your hands on his cheeks and pulled him to your mouth, swirling your tongue against his before tightening your grip around him as you felt him nudge at your entrance.

“Mesh'la...Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. Ni nu’ru'kir. A Ni vaabir.” His voice was soft as he whispered those words against your lips and you wished to ask him what he was saying but decided to bug him about it later. Right now, you wanted to enjoy the moment and feel his warm skin slide against yours. A part of you, a very small part, hoped he would have a slower stamina because you weren’t sure if you were able to do anything else in the next few hours. But you knew, in your heart, that you would give him anything, and all of you, even if he didn’t ask you to.

Translation (which are not always accurate but I tried):

Doshing - A “derogatory” modifier

Shabuir - extreme insult; "jerk", but much stronger

Waadar Ke'sush' - Pay attention.

Haar'chak - Damn it!

Moof-milker - A term for a dimwitted individual

Pfassk - An adaptable expletive

Ad'ika - Little one

Ni'm Ni ceta, Cyar'ika. - I’m sorry.

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Gedet'ye - Please.

Cyare - Beloved

Vor entye - Thank you

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Ner - Mine

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. Ni nu’ru'kir. A Ni vaabir. - I love you. I shouldn’t. But I do.

#The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian smut #mando x reader #Mando smut #Mando fanfiction #Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin smut #Din Djarin fanfiction #The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #baby yoda #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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slowpoke-fics · 3 years

Text

Appreciated

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: softish!dom!Steve x Reader, former Natasha x Steve, former Thor x Reader

Summary: The team make a bet that you have to settle, sending Steve into a sexual frenzy.

Warnings: alcohol, sexual themes, pet names, Dom!Steve, slapping, rough sex, soft sex, overstimulation, pleasure Dom, use of traffic light safe words, fluff, smut, choking, crying but in an I love you way, still crying kink, subspace, little bit o’ cockwarming, I know I've missed some, so please read at your own risk 18+

A/N: I really enjoyed the lovey dovey vibes I got from this, I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it; 4.1k words

You’re surrounded by the team in the common room, all of you with a glass of Asgardian liquor in your hand. It’s a rare time that you all get to sit around and relax, just talk to each other like people. You’re all laughing because somehow you’ve gotten to Thor vs Steve, who was more worthy. Everyone is a little intoxicated, none more so than Sam, who is leaning against Bucky, poking the bear. “I would lay a hundred down to say Thor’s got it hung,” Sam hiccups, “I mean, the man radiates big dick energy.”

Natasha laughs, hiding her face under Clint’s arm for a moment before joining Sam, “You’re wrong big bird,” clicking her tongue at Steve, “our super soldier is swinging, uncomfortably so.” Thor shakes his head, glancing at you, then quickly noting you’re hiding behind Steve, sure of where this was going. Tony hisses at the conversation, “I’m offended I’m not even in the race.” That causes Bucky to break out into laughter, shaking his head, “Stark, you aren’t even on the leaderboard.” The group erupts into laughter, Tony shaking his head when Pepper whispers something in his ear, a blush rising to his cheeks as his shifts in his seat.

You smirk at Tony, but you are no longer able to ignore the bickering between Sam and Natasha. “I’ve had personal experience, you ever seen Thor, Sam?” Sam rolls his eyes, grinning with teeth, “The man’s massive, Nat, his weapon is a hammer, you ever understand innuendos?” Wanda and Peter can’t control their laughter anymore, and Steve’s hand grips your thigh roughly when you nip at his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell them?” Steve whispers in your ear, nipping just under your neck. You shake your head and blush moving your head away from him. He rubs your thigh gently turning back to the conversation. He wasn’t going to push, of course he wasn’t, he loves you and wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.

The rest of them though? Too drunk to care.

Wanda is the first one to speak up, after her heavy laughter stops, “Y/n,” your head is snapping up to hers, “you have personal experience with both of them, why don’t you enlighten us?” You laugh and shake your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying.

Thor hums in appreciation, reminiscing on the days when you two were bed buddies, “Ah yes, little lamb, why don’t you tell them how good I am?” You gasp, the outright disrespect Thor throws at Steve to call you a name reserved for only when you were under him and the insinuation that he knew how to please you better than Steve made your blood boil at his cockiness. The alcohol poisoning your liver made you laugh at the situation though, because nobody is ever going to compare to Steve. Unable to catch your breath for a minute, Nat and Sam boast out, “Oh yes, enlighten us on the most worthy member,” and “Y/n/n, Thor’s a god, I know you’re with Steve now, but be honest.”

You snap your head at Sam, squinting your eyes, a challenge. You turn to Natasha with an apologetic look, causing the circle to break out in little giggles, ooo’s and ahh’s. Steve’s smirking because he knows you, studies you in his spare time, knows this joke. “Oh, Nat, I’m sorry,” the group breaks out into laughter and you raise your voice with a 180, now dripping with pride instead of regret, “for the two hundred bucks Sam just lost!” Steve grips your thigh again as you rub your fingers together towards Sam, “Pay up, because my Stevie,” you learn forward as the circle drops to a pen drop silence, “he’s a god himself.”

The entire group hoops and hollers, Thor shaking his head with a sip on his drink, hoping you were just talking up your man for brownie points. Nat raises her arms and let’s put a happy scream, “Oh, suck on that, big bird!” Sam’s gaping at you, he huffs and pulls out his wallet, slamming a hundred in your hand then Nat’s outstretched one. You laugh, slamming back onto Steve, pressing your lips into his. He twists his hand to the side of your face, pressing you into him. Tony groans and kicks Steve’s leg, “Put it on ice, Capsicle.” Before you could back away from Steve, he growls in your ear, “Good girl.”

Steve’s throbbing, you can see it. See how hard he is through his pants, see his cock twitching. You know that when you get to your bedroom, you’re going to get exactly what you want. He’s so distracted by you, by the way you openly claimed him in front of everyone. You were his good girl, and he couldn’t wait to show you. So once Tony and Pepper announce their goodbyes, you and Steve are quick to follow, dismissing yourselves and stumbling off to the elevator.

You’re giggling and leaning on Steve, as soon as you’re out of eye line of the other members, he picks you up over his shoulder. You let out a small yelp and shake a little, “Stevie, let me go!” He laughs and playfully slaps your ass, “No, dove,” he whispers, “not in a million years.”

When you step onto the elevator, he unclips your left shoe, “You know what you do to me?” He slides it off, holding it by a strap on his pinky, “Blind me with your energy,” he unclips the right shoe as the elevator opens, “take my breath away with your touch,” he slides the shoe off to hang it next to it’s match. You’re rubbing his back with one hand, your other peaking through his waistband on his hip. You’re intoxicated by his praise more than you could ever be by alcohol.

He’s carrying you down the hall towards your room, curling the hand that’s holding your shoes around your ass, holding you and your dress in place. "Bring me back from the edge," his free hand grabs the zipper on the back of your dress and pulls roughly, opening your dress in one tug. He quickly opens the door to your bedroom and drops you to the bed after dropping the shoes.

You bounce when you hit the bed causing you to laugh, your head tilted back. Steve’s committing every movement you make to memory, his heart fluttering when your chest bounces with your giggles. He knocks the door shut with a kick as he unbuttons his shirt, tossing it to the floor. He crawls over your middle, smiling gently at you. "Gonna thank you for everything you do," his fingertips tickle your arms as he slides the straps off of you, you pull your arms through reaching up to trace his muscles. He lifts you easily and tosses you, your head landing gently on the pillows at the headboard.

He tosses your empty dress to the floor, unbuckling his belt with a heated glare toward your naked body, “My my, you are really something.” He rips the belt off, snapping it through the air, your eyes light up with a dare. “Gonna cherish you,” he crawls towards you, grabbing your wrists and putting them against the wooden poles. “You say I am a god,” he wraps your hands up, “then you honey,” he tugs on your secured wrist and slides down your body, “are my goddess.” He pulls your legs down, extending your arms and restricting your movement.

You moan at the roughness of his love, his praise soaking your thighs. His eyes are staring you down, he’s continuing to slither down the bed. He’s kissing and nibbling on your nipples. Your wrists pull hard when you arch and his hard gaze breaks, “Too tight?” You shake your head, but he slaps the outside of your thigh, “You know better dove.” You stretch out your legs, exposing your soaking cunt to him, “No, sir, it’s not too tight, please.” Steve traces the inside of your thigh, “Don’t worry dovey,” he clicks at you, “tonight’s all about you,” he presses his hands on your thighs, pushing you apart, “I know how good you are,” he slides his tongue on your wet thigh, “just wanna make sure you do.”

He hums as his tongue licks up your folds, collecting some of the juices, “You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever known.” You moan out, bucking your hips towards him, “Captain please, need you to make me feel good.” Steve wastes no time giving you want you want. He slides two fingers into you, drawing a pained gasp from you that quickly turns into a moan. “Oh, baby,” Steve sucks on your clit, licking tight circles before drawing back a little, your hands tugging the best they could, “who’s all this for?”

You’re heaving, Steve’s fingers curling inside of your willing hole, his lips are back on you. When you don’t give him an answer, he stops toying with your clit, causing the heat in you to die down, a whine erupting from you. He licks up your folds, his fingers never slowing, “Tell me, who’s it for.” You spread your fingers out, trying to twist your body but slid another finer in you roughly. You let out a pornographic moan, clenching on his fingers, “You, you Steve, you,” his hand slides back down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles, “always you, love of my life, always my Stevie.” Steve growls, “Cum, now.”

The coil in you snaps, your back arching off the bed as your pussy flutters around his relentless fingers. He removes his hand from your clit, pulling his pants and underwear down roughly, sliding them off and out of the way. You’re coming down from your high when he’s on top of you, fingers pumping hard and fast again. You’re on fire, eyes roaming his body and your arms twitch at the need to touch him.

You’re whining trying to back up, but his thrusts become temporarily rough, shooting pleasurable pain through you, “Don’t run, be a good girl.” You let a choked sob out, your cunt clenching tightly on his fingers. He knows you’re close, your legs tight, and shaking, your whines higher, “You’re beautiful cunt’s desperate isn’t it love?” You tighten at his words, so close to tipping over the edge. When you don’t answer he slows down, causing your eyes to snap open, he pulls your legs up to your chest, “Yes, yes, desperate for you, I’ll do anything, I promise, please!”

Steve removes his fingers from you roughly, grabbing your thighs, pushing them apart to display your cunt and slams himself into you. He’s buried balls deep, twitching against your cunt. He lets you rest a moment as he readjusts, one arm holding both your legs in place, his free right hand finding your clit, “You’re gonna cum like this.” He slams back into you, and as if commanded, you fall apart on him. You let out a silent scream, clenching his cock as hard as you can, your eyes rolling back in the back of your head, clit throbbing as he continues to rub circles.

“Your pussy is suffocating my cock baby,” he leans down to kiss you, swallowing your whines at the painful stretch in the back of your thighs. “Good girl, such a good girl,” your back arches toward him, coming down from your high, thankful that his ministrations on your clit have slowed, “You lost with my cock pounding into you? Are you with me sweet girl?”

You can’t answer, can’t hardly breathe, because he’s started pumping in and out of you with more of his weight pressing into you, taking your breath with almost every thrust. Your eyes are closed, your mouth barely open and it’s clear you’re unable to answer. Steve reaches his hand up, taking it off your clit, and smacks your face, gently but hard enough to snap you back to him. He squeezes your chin, roughly moving your face to the left and then right. “Color?” You take a deep breath, causing him to slowly stop ramming into you. He slides his thumb into your mouth, keeping eye contact with you. Your tongue licks up his thumb, your lips closing around it. He instantly softens, his dominating features fading away, “Come on, tell your Stevie how you’re doin’, what’s your color dovey?”

You release his thumb, smiling at him, “‘S green, Stevie, I jus’ needed a breather.” Steve pouts at you, grabbing your chin and shaking your head with a disappointed look, “Nuh uh. Say it right, pet.” You flutter around his cock, causing him to pulse inside you and let out a deep groan. “Green, sir, please, need your cock, fills me up so good,” you’re begging, arching your back off the bed. He straightens, hands on the back of your thighs bracing himself. He pulls out and rams into you at a brutal pace, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

You moan out, trying to twist away from him, but you can’t hardly move, stuck in his grasp, his huge cock filling you again and again. He knows you’re close, slapping your thigh a couple times, heavy smacks resonating through the room before he reminds you, “Look at me.” You follow his command, your eyes snapping to his. “You’re going to cum again,” he slaps your thigh, “quit trying to run away bunny.” You can’t control yourself, you gush all over his cock when his hand hits your thigh, flutter around him and moaning out, “Thank you sir, never felt so good, thank you.” Steve doesn’t slow down, he grips your thighs roughly and seems like he’s going harder, deeper.

“That’s right, nobody will ever make you feel as good as I do,” you whine loudly at his words, tears leaving the corners of your eyes. He grunts and you feel his rhythm stutter, “God yeah, made for me, isn’t anything better than you in my life,” his hand comes to your clit as he turns your body, bringing your leg over his shoulder. You’re overwhelmed by his love, even though he’s fucking you stupid, you can feel that he’s genuine in his words. This man loves you.

“God Stevie, I’m ruined, consumed by you, don’t want anyone else,” you tug on your restraints again, glancing up with tears in your eyes. He brings his other hand up to your face, letting your leg fall free, “Give me one more baby,” he ruts inside you, heat burning at your core, feeling you clench around him makes him let out a deep moan. He moves his hand to your nipple, rolling it between his fingers and pulling roughly on it. You let out a pained moan, Steve slapping your breast, “Yeah that’s it sweetheart. Gonna be my perfect little girl and take everything I give you.”

You can feel your heartbeat in your pussy, he’s pounding into you but you’re so fucked out and wet it’s easy for him to abuse your cunt. He’s addicted to the way your pussy sucks him back in, his resolve almost breaking and spilling into you. “I’ll take whatever my Captain is willing to give me,” you’re barely able to think about anything else, eyes open just barely enough to see Steve’s head roll back. He lets out a loud and shameless moan, he wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing roughly. “Be a good girl, be a good girl, cum, cum right now.”

Your walls throb and he lets go of your throat. Your vision goes white when you take your breath and you’re cumming around him. He sucks in a harsh breath, barely able to move in and out of you because of how frantic you’ve become. “You make it so hard to control myself around you,” he pulls completely out and you watch his cock twitch in the air, red and sore, the thick vein throbbing hard. You whine, but he swallows it when he presses his lips to yours. Reaching his hands up and releasing you from the belt, he bites your bottom lip, “Can you take more baby? What’s your color?” Your pull your hands from his, wrapping them around his neck, “I can’t take anymore, Captain, I can’t.” Steve’s glare is dangerous, his voice controlled by his primal need for you, “I’m gonna give you more, until I’m satisfied or you tap out. What’s your color?” You let a stray tear fall, “Yellow, I need a minute, pretty please, Captain.”

Steve hums in agreement, pressing his lips against yours. He backs just an inch or so away and rests his forehead against yours. Steve guides your legs down and lays you on the bed gently. He’s giving himself as much a break as he is you, he’s not sure that if he slid into your cunt he wouldn’t cum right then and there.

“You know how good your doin’ for me?” His nose nudges yours, “Really made for me,” he kisses your nose, “love making you feel good, am I making you feel good?” You bring your lips to his, initiating the contact this time, “Yes Stevie, I feel so good, ‘s like you set me on fire.”

Your gaze is still far away, barely able to hold your head up. You’re almost cockdrunk, and he’s going to get you all the way there. “Look at me angel,” he’s kneeling in between your legs, watching your every breath. Your head lifts to his, meeting his sly grin. “There she is,” he slides his hands under your thighs gently, lifting your hips for a better angle. “You ready baby?”

Your legs are putty in his hand and he pushes into you slowly, your mouth gapes at the sensation, letting out a small plea, “Oh, Captain, more, more, more.” He speeds up, leaning forward and planting kisses on your neck, whispering against it as he digs his fingers into your hips, “That’s right,” he punctuates with a rough thrust, “good girls beg for more.” He’s lost himself, roughly jerking your hips into him, sucking possessive marks into your neck and collarbone. “Good girls let their Captain decide when they’ve had enough.” Your hands are scratching at his back, a silent please for him to keep going.

“You’re so good to me,” he bites your neck roughly, hips stuttering against yours, his mounds hitting yours just right. “Love me so good,” he’s kissing your jawline, he’s close to coming, and he’s not going to stop this time. He plants a heavy kiss on your lips, “You’re gonna be my wife one day,” your lips find his again, a tear rolling down your cheek, “the mother of my children.” Your hands pull on his hair gently, “Please, cum in me, wanna be a mommy, cum with me.” When you pull on his hair he spills inside of you, pushing you over the edge with him.

Steve sees a piece in you snap, your eyes glaze over, the breath taken from your body. You’re numb, all you can feel is the thump in your chest and the painful stretch of your back, pushed too far past its limit. He’s crushing you with kisses, his hands moving to your hair while he gently thrusts inside you, “Breathe,” his voice calls out to you, “breathe baby.” You take a deep breath in, closing your eyes and finding any part of his skin to touch. You feel so vulnerable, so small, so overwhelmed and overstimulated.

When your high ends, he flips you over so you’re straddling him. You jerk away from him when his softened cock slides back into you, but he just pulls you to his chest, rubbing your back gently. “Good girl, I am so proud of you dove.” Your lip wobbles, shoulders starting to shake. Steve coos at you, “Oh baby, let it out, it’s okay, I’m so proud.” At his words the tears fall freely and your hand clenches around his bicep. “Did that feel so good? Hm? Did your Captain do this to you?” You nuzzle into his neck, hiccuping sobs, Steve’s voice dripping with honey, “Oh my sweet girl,” he starts patting your back, “that’s okay. You can’t think can you? So hard to come back down from your Captain breaking you.” You only let out a silent sob, squeezing his cock with your cunt unintentionally.

“This is what you needed isn’t it? Needed me to make you feel good, needed me to break you and put the pieces back together?” Steve’s rock hard in you again, pressing against your g-spot and slowly rolling his hips. “What’s your color?” You sniffle, Steve waits patiently for you, he’s going to be soft, wants you to have one more. “C-can,” you take a deep breath, “can it be just like this? I love the way you love me.” Steve kisses you softly, his fingers running through your hair, “Of course baby, what’s your color?” You lay your head on his shoulder, “Green, please take care of me.” He finds your clit with his right hand, his left grabbing the back of your neck, clenching to announce his presence, “That’s all I want to do for the rest of my life.”

You let out more tears when he says that, your hands clutching at his waist tightly. Steve’s thumb rubs fast but gentle circles on your clit, your hips involuntarily shaking. “Stevie,” you beg, he kisses your jawline, letting out a questionable hum, “I love you so much, you make me feel so good,” he pushes his hips deeper into you, a sign that he agrees with you. You dig your nails into his sides, indentations would be visible to anyone able to see, cunt letting out another wave of cum around his cock. “I mean it Stevie, you make me feel special,” you clench your eyes when he gets rougher on your clit. “There is nobody on this planet that I will ever want more than you,” you lean up and kiss his lips to seal your words. “I can’t live without you,” you kiss him again, returning the praise he’s given you all night.

Steve can’t control himself, he’s going to cum again, your compliments are tightening his balls, almost bursting. “Would be lost,” you let a loud moan out and move your hands back to his hair, “would be lost forever without you.” Steve starts thrusting harder, barely increasing in speed, still feeling your pussy respond to his treatment. He growls before kissing you, biting at your lips and commanding, “Cum, you can do it, cum for your Stevie.” You do, your lips meeting his and grinding against one another. Your hips are spasming against his hand, desperate for your high to last as long as it can. You feel him shoot his cum inside you for the second time and you flex your walls to milk his cock, his breath heavy as he presses into you.

He rests you back against his chest, a featherlight touch on your back. Both of you are breathing heavy, and your tears are silently falling. You love him so much, words couldn’t describe it. The way he makes you feel absolutely ethereal, like you’re floating amongst the stars. You're lost amount them right now, drifting about. He knows this, it’s why he lets you sit on his cock for as long as you want. The closest you could possibly get to him, laying on his chest, his gentle touch bringing you back down to earth.

After about fifteen minutes, your tears stop. Your mouth is dry, voice hoarse when you speak out, “I love you so much.” Steve kisses your head, “You don’t know the half of it. You’re perfect, there isn’t a damn thing about you that I don’t love.” Heat flushes to your cheeks, hiding your face as best you can, “Even though I cry during sex?” Steve lets out an irritated scoff, “You know how hard it makes me when I make you cry? To know that I’ve made you feel so much that you’re crying? And you’re still begging for me to give you more?” You trace your fingers up Steve’s arm, smiling contently, “I wish you could understand what it’s like.” He pulls you off his cock slowly, lifting you as he suggests, “Maybe you can explain it while we take a bath and clean up?” Your head turns and you kiss his cheek, “Of course. If you’re actually interested.”

He bends with you, holding you tightly with one hand, and you realize you’ve already made it to the bathroom. “I want to know everything about you,” he steps into the tub, bringing both of you into the quickly rising water. “So tell me,” he turns your body so your back is laying on his chest in the oversized tub, “When you fall? Where do you go?”

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