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dollyswishingwell · 18 days ago

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ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Long day, Baby?

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ i hope this is what you guys requested for :) … just pure fluff

> ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ The boys take care of you after a long day

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The door squeaked open and you barely stepped inside before your bag dropped to the floor with a dull thud. Your limbs felt like jelly, your head foggy, and every cell in your body screamed for warmth and softness.

You didn’t even get a chance to call his name.

Rafayel was already lounging upside-down on the couch, his legs draped over the backrest, silver shells glinting in his hair. He was wearing one of his oversized white shirts and munching on something bright pink.

He blinked lazily, lips stained coral. “You look like a drowned shrimp.”

You groaned, face falling into your hands. “I want to die.”

“Mmm, dramatic. Very theatrical,” Rafayel purred, rolling onto his stomach with an exaggerated flop. “Did they bully you again?”

You didn’t answer, just trudged over and collapsed beside him.

He caught you before you could faceplant, arms curling tightly around your waist as he pulled you into his lap without complaint. One hand slid up your back, the other finding your cheek, cool fingers brushing away the tired lines under your eyes.

“Poor little starfish,” he murmured, softer now. “Worked so hard, didn’t you?”

You nodded, forehead pressed to the curve of his shoulder.

“They made you carry things again, didn’t they?” His voice was somewhere between a pout and a threat. “Told you to smile more? Mmm, how vile. I should paint their faces on mollusk shells and grind them into powder.”

That got a small, exhausted laugh out of you.

“There it is,” he whispered, smug. “There’s my pretty sound.”

His hands were already working at your coat buttons, coaxing you out of your stiff workwear, replacing them with the warmth of the throw blanket he’d been curled under before you arrived. It smelled like sea salt and vanilla and faint traces of paint.

When you leaned into him more, he shifted beneath you, cradling your legs across his lap, his cheek nuzzling into your hair.

“No more of that ugly world for tonight,” Rafayel said firmly, brushing your temple with a kiss. “You’re staying right here, with me.”

You made a little whimper of agreement, eyes fluttering shut.

Rafayel smiled against your skin. “Good girl. You don’t have to do anything now. I’ll be your whole ocean, alright?”

And for the rest of the night, he was. Stroking your hair, murmuring soft things, letting you curl in his lap like you were something sacred. He brought you snacks, warm towels, even massaged your tired feet with sea-scented oil he claimed was “from a tidepool that only appears during blue moon eclipses.”

You didn’t believe him. But you didn’t need to.

Not when he kissed your hand so sweetly. Not when he looked at you like you were the only piece of humanity worth loving.

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

The apartment was dim, lit only by the soft amber glow of a lamp near the kitchen. The faint scent of coffee lingered in the air, rich, grounded. Steady.

You barely had the energy to shut the door behind you before you sagged against it, head falling back with a sigh.

“Don’t move,” came his voice from the hallway, low, even, and unmistakably Zayne.

You blinked up to see him already walking toward you, sleeves rolled to his forearms, silver wire-frame glasses perched low on his nose. His black hair was slightly tousled, like he’d run a hand through it one too many times while reading something aggravating.

He took one look at your expression and set the file folder he was holding aside without a word.

You didn’t even need to ask.

He stepped in close, warm hands finding your coat buttons, deft fingers working them open one by one. “Did you remember to eat?” he asked, voice cool but lined with concern.

“No,” you murmured. “Didn’t have time.”

Zayne clicked his tongue. “Tsk. So predictable.” He slipped your coat from your shoulders, brushing his knuckles gently down your arm as he did. “At this rate I’ll be sending you to my own department.”

You managed a weak laugh. “Maybe I just want attention from a very specific surgeon.”

He gave you a flat look. “I’ve told you before, if you want to be babied, try a pediatrician.” But then, quietly, as he cupped your cheek: “…Though I suppose I’ll make an exception. Just tonight.”

You leaned into his hand, exhausted.

Without another word, he guided you toward the couch, his hand never leaving your lower back. Once seated, he crouched down, unlacing your shoes with the same careful precision he used in the OR. Every movement was quiet, efficient, like he’d done this before. Like he wanted to do this.

Zayne straightened, then gently sat beside you. His coat rustled softly as he slipped it off and draped it over your shoulders instead. Warm. Heavy. Familiar.

“I made something. It’s on the stove,” he said. “I assumed you’d come home like this.”

“Like what?”

“Overworked. Undervalued. Exhausted.” He paused, eyes sweeping your face. “…Beautiful, but in need of care.”

Your breath caught.

Zayne looked away at that, adjusting his glasses with a slightly flustered touch. “Don’t read into it. It’s just clinical observation.”

“Mmhm,” you mumbled, curling into his side. “Very clinical.”

He allowed it. In fact, he opened his arm for you. Let you bury yourself against his chest, let you breathe him in. The soft scent of sandalwood and antiseptic. Cool fingers ghosted over your scalp.

“You don’t have to do everything yourself,” Zayne murmured, voice near your ear. “Let me do some of it. Just for a while.”

You nodded, too tired to pretend anymore. Letting Zayne take over was the easiest decision you’d made all day.

He kissed your temple once, slowly. “I’ll heat the soup. Then you’re eating, bathing, and sleeping. In that order.”

You groaned. “Can’t we skip to sleeping?”

Zayne leaned in, lips brushing your jaw in a rare show of indulgence. “No. I didn’t slave over a pot for an hour just for you to ignore it.”

“You don’t even cook.”

“I do now,” he replied dryly. “Turns out exhaustion is a better motivator than love.”

You snorted, and he tilted his head down to meet your eyes again, quiet warmth softening his usual stoicism.

“You’re home now,” he said firmly. “Let me take care of you.”

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

You barely made it to the front door before your legs gave in to gravity. The lock clicked shut behind you, your bag slumped to the floor, and you pressed your forehead against the nearest wall.

Long day didn’t even begin to cover it.

Your fingers trembled as you reached down to unlace your shoes, too tired to even cry.

You didn’t hear him at first, didn’t even realize you weren’t alone until something soft brushed your shoulder.

You turned slowly.

Xavier stood there, barefoot, his white sweater slightly rumpled as if he’d been napping again. His silver hair was a little messy, sleep-flattened on one side. Blue eyes studied you carefully, quietly.

“…You’re late,” he said.

You winced. “I didn’t mean to—there was a systems crash, and then I had to cover for someone, and I—”

Xavier blinked once, then stepped forward and cupped your cheek with his gloved hand, gentle and cool. “That wasn’t an accusation,” he said softly. “It was a measurement.”

You stared at him.

“You’re exactly one hour and thirty-two minutes later than usual,” he added, tilting his head. “That… usually means something is wrong.”

Your lips trembled.

Xavier noticed. Of course he did.

Without another word, he scooped you into his arms. Effortless. As if carrying your entire body weight cost him no more effort than lifting a pillow. He cradled you with that same calm, unreadable expression, but his voice was soft.

“You’re tired.”

You nodded into his shoulder, gripping the hem of his sweater like a lifeline.

“I prepared tea,” he murmured. “It is not hot anymore. I miscalculated. But the intention was warmth.”

That made you laugh. A small, shaky sound, but real.

Xavier carried you to the couch, gently setting you down before draping a blanket around your shoulders like a cocoon. He adjusted it around your neck and shoulders in a way that felt strangely practiced.

“…You’ve done this before?” you asked.

Xavier tilted his head again. “You fall apart often.”

You blinked.

“Not in a weak way,” he added quickly, “but in a human way. I have observed the pattern. You break down once every… approximately six high-pressure workdays.”

You stared at him. “…You’ve been keeping track?”

He blinked again. “I thought it would help.”

The confession made your heart squeeze. You reached up to brush his cheek with your knuckles, and though his face didn’t change much, you saw the soft shift in his eyes. That little flicker he always gave only you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

You shook your head, exhausted. “Just want to be held.”

Xavier responded by sitting beside you and pulling you into his lap without hesitation. Arms curling around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. His breath was steady against your neck, his touch careful, like he was memorizing the feel of you.

“I can stay like this,” he whispered. “All night, if needed.”

You melted into him, letting his warmth and steady presence pull you under. His heartbeat was slow. Calming. Like it had never known panic.

He kissed your temple, then your cheek.

“…Next time, just call me,” he murmured. “Even if I’m asleep. I’ll always come get you.”

And somehow, you believed him.

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

You barely stepped two feet into the suite before your legs faltered beneath you. The pressure behind your eyes was sharp, your brain still ringing from the nonstop chaos of the day. Data backups, overwritten files, a lecture from your superior, and some smug intern who dared to tell you how to do your job,

“You look like hell,” came Sylus’ voice, smooth as oil and twice as flammable.

You didn’t even lift your head.

He was already lounging on the black velvet sofa near the full-length windows, shirt unbuttoned halfway, blazer draped over his shoulders like a cape, a half-empty glass of wine in his hand. And yet, despite the decadence, his red eyes tracked you with that same predatory sharpness that always made your knees weak.

“Don’t start with me,” you mumbled.

“Start what?” he said, smug. “I was going to say you’re still beautiful when you look like you crawled out of a train wreck. But if you’d rather fight, I have five minutes to spare.”

You groaned, dragging yourself toward him. Your bag hit the floor with a dull thump.

Sylus didn’t move as you flopped down beside him, he simply reached over with one long arm and pulled you directly onto his lap.

You let him.

He smelled like smoke and spices and the faintest hint of leather, rich, dark, expensive. His fingers slid under your blouse to touch the small of your back, thumb tracing idle circles as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“…Bad day?” he murmured against your ear.

You nodded.

He hummed. “Do I need to ruin someone’s life?”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Don’t tempt me.”

“No, no,” he said, voice low and amused. “You should tempt me. That’s the whole point of you, isn’t it?”

You swatted his chest weakly. “I’m tired.”

“And yet still charming,” he replied. “Impressive.”

You relaxed against him, and that was all the permission he needed. His other hand trailed lazily through your hair, combing out the knots with a surprising gentleness. “This is your fault, you know,” he murmured, lips brushing your temple. “You’re too competent. They’ll wring you dry if I let them.”

“Then don’t,” you whispered.

He chuckled darkly. “I won’t.”

He held you a little tighter.

“You don’t need to prove anything to them,” he said. “Not when I already know what you’re capable of. Not when I’ve already decided to give you the world.”

You blinked slowly, heart stuttering.

“Tell me what you want,” Sylus whispered, his tone dipped in velvet and sin. “Not what you should want. Not what they told you to want. Just… what you want.”

“…To be spoiled.”

“Already done.”

You smiled against his neck.

Sylus shifted slightly and reached into his pocket, producing a slender, black-velvet box. He popped it open with one hand, revealing a ring coiled in red-gold metal, shaped like the wings of a crow.

“Then wear this tonight,” he said, smug and half-lidded. “I want you to remember that even when the rest of the world wastes your time… I never will.”

You stared at the ring.

“What’s the catch?”

He leaned in close, nose brushing yours. “That you sit here. On my lap. And let me pet you like the spoiled little thing you are.”

“…You make it sound like I’m some pampered cat.”

“You are,” he said, grinning. “My favorite one.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

You didn’t even get to finish kicking your boots off before Caleb appeared, silent as ever in that sleek black uniform, dark hair tousled, gloves still on. His eyes scanned you once, and whatever cheerfulness had been in them earlier faded.

“Tough day?” he asked gently.

You didn’t answer. Just walked past him, dropped your bag, and went straight to the couch. Not even onto it, just face-first into the cushions with a groan.

A quiet beat passed. You expected him to say something teasing, something smug. Instead, you felt his hand glide down your back.

“…You didn’t eat lunch,” he said after a moment. Not a question. A fact.

You barely had the energy to look up. “Didn’t have time.”

His jaw tightened. He crouched beside the couch and rested his chin on your shoulder, his voice low, murmured straight into your ear. “They don’t deserve that much of you, you know.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled.

“No, you’re tired. And grumpy. And starving. And about two seconds away from falling asleep in your boots.”

“Shut up,” you whined, trying to burrow deeper into the cushions.

But Caleb only chuckled, soft and nostalgic.

“There’s my pipsqueak,” he said, voice warm. “Still acting tough after all these years.”

He scooped you up like you weighed nothing, cradling you against his chest as he walked you toward the bedroom. The room was dim, bathed in that soft Skyhaven glow filtering in through the windows. You clung to the front of his uniform, too tired to protest.

“You shouldn’t carry me,” you muttered. “I’m not a kid.”

“No,” he said, gently setting you down on the bed. “But you’ll always be mine. And when mine has a bad day, I fix it.”

With practiced ease, Caleb peeled off your coat, your boots, your tight work uniform, replacing each layer with soft fabric, slipping one of his oversized shirts onto you like a lullaby. He tucked you beneath the sheets, then slid in right after, still in his dress shirt and gloves, pulling you into his arms.

“…Better?” he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours.

You nodded. Barely.

He kissed your temple once. Then again. And again.

“Just rest,” he whispered. “I already locked your work tab away in the safe. If anyone tries to reach you, they’ll go through me.”

“Caleb—”

“No.” He cupped your cheek gently, thumb brushing over the dark circles under your eyes. “You don’t take care of yourself, so I have to. That’s the deal, remember?”

You melted a little under his touch.

“I’ll get your favorites from the Skyhaven market later,” he added. “And maybe something ridiculous from that plushie shop you like. The one with the dumb smiley whales.”

You blinked sleepily. “You hate those whales.”

He gave a soft, playful growl. “I hate everything but you. But for you… I’ll buy the whole shop.”

You finally let yourself smile, curling into his chest.

“And if your boss talks to you like that again,” Caleb said, voice now low and dark near your ear, “I will remind him how many stories up this penthouse is. And how weak the safety railing looks.”

“Caleb—”

“Sleep,” he ordered, pulling the covers up around you like a shield. “I’ve got you. Always.”

And just before you drifted off, you felt his gloved fingers intertwine with yours. Steady. Familiar. Unshakable.

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dreaisgrayte · 1 year ago

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Half Blood | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, TW! YN does get assaulted, mentions of blood, drinking blood, gore, how many times do I mention claws? Oral fem!receiving, fingering, kissing, breeding kink, virgin sex, creampie, and overstimulation.

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: guys this started off as a quick break from a Sanemi fic I'm working on (keep in mind I think short fics are no longer than 3k) and here I am... with a way longer fic than I intended and something I actually want to expand on in the future. It was a lot of fun to write this so I hope you enjoy it <3

“You,” His pink irises are illuminated by the moon high in the night sky. The blood within your body cools as you stare back at the man who stored your fate. His inky black hair flows down his shoulder in waves. A deep blue yukata loosely hung on his frame. “I’ve been watching you.” Muzan growls, edging ever closer to where you stood. His pointed canines glinted in the light, his nails sharp and ready to claw at your jugular. The demon king rolls his tongue along the tips of his teeth, studying you carefully. Was he deciding whether or not to feast upon your flesh?

He had never seen such a creature as yourself. Your skin was glowing, soft, and supple. The lavender color yukata covered most of your body, a delicate pattern of white flowers spanning the kosode fabric. Your obi was white with purple vines flowing around it. You wear simple white tabies paired with purple strapped zori. Elegance and grace radiated from you. He could smell the wisteria perfume in your hair.

It was strange, you were a confrontation to the world he wanted to live in – yet something he could not tear his eyes away from. Here you were, standing in front of him without fear. He rather thought it would be better fun if you were afraid, he did so enjoy the chase. Though, there was – of course – a reason you relented in running away from him. Your eyes were stormy, eclipsed by thousands of emotions. That’s when a different smell, that had not yet hit him, tickled his nose. Blood, and not just any blood. You had the blood of a demon in you. Your stern, furrowed brows, with the revolting smell of wisteria burning his nose. You confused him. “What are you?” He purs out, not sure if what would come out of your mouth would be a lie or truth. He could always figure it out for himself one way or another.

Your lip ticks, a show of annoyance you’d yet to master. The man in front of you knew, he could smell it, of that you were sure. Yet, he dared ask. What are you? You’d been told many times what you were. An abomination. A curse. A monster. “Are you not the demon king?” You spit back, growing angry. Would the other half of you reject your existence as well? You had hoped at least the demons would have the scarce bit of comradery running through their systems. Muzan’s brows lift, then knit together. Did he need to answer you? After all, he could easily swipe at your neck to kill you for being so insolent. The eager need to hear what you had to say captivated him though.

When the man does not answer you tut, crossing your arms over your chest. “Here I thought the mighty demon king would be able to tell me apart from the rest.” You shake your head, laughing stiffly into the night. In a flash Muzan has you pinned to the trunk of a tree. Splinters etch toward your face from the very force of his hand. His muscular body cages you in and it takes you a moment to realize how your body aches to be near him.

“I can smell you,�� He mutters, squinting his beautiful eyes like he couldn’t quite distinguish what he was looking at. “You assault my senses, it’s driving me mad. There’s something different about you.” Muzan had first observed you walking in your village one evening, the way people sneered and cowered at your presence intrigued him. He found himself looking for you every night, wondering what your story was. These villagers were shunning you. He wished to know why such a pretty thing as yourself would be outcasted in her own village. “You smell like me, yet you are not. So I ask you again, what are you?” His voice is low, edging on the precipice of anger.

You do not yield in holding his gaze. “I am you, yet I am not. Born of the sun and moon. A half-blood.” 20 years ago your mother found herself in the entertainment district, serving the pleasures of others. A man came to visit her on multiple occasions. Eventually, the two ran away together. Sharing in love and secrets. Your mother was a demon and your father a local carpenter. How you were able to be conceived was a mystery, even to them. They lived in peace, until one night. The villagers had finally seen through your father’s lies, storming their house. They slaughtered both of them and assuming you were a child taken captive, they whisked you away to a widowed mother. As you grew it was obvious where your origins lay, yet no one in the village dared to lay a hand on you.

Muzan lets his gaze drop to where your heart pulsed, bouncing the skin of your jugular. “You are human and demon?” Something pulled tight in his chest. Could you walk in the sun? Did you regenerate? Were you the answer to his plight? “You are radiant.” He cannot stop the words from falling past his lips. Your eyes light up with recognition, acceptance, and for a moment your past falls away. He had the ever-growing urge to sweep you away. Your very existence was tantalizing to him in the least. He tilts his head, wrinkling his nose at the obscure way you smelt.

Your eyes settle on the way he reacts to you, wondering if he’ll take you away someplace. Some place away from these villagers who had slaughtered your parents who just wanted to live in harmony. They did not deserve to die and you did not want to live one more second with their murderers. Muzan wanted to take you, but he couldn’t. Not yet. You were so fragile. If he were to touch you he would fear you would break on the spot. “Are you going to take me away from this place?” You whisper, hopeful tones floating to Muzan. He swallows something deep and thick.

Muzan backs away from you, eyes tensing. “No.” He replies softly. He could not take you into his den, the other demons were too stupid to realize how precious you were. You would be dead within seconds. The line between your brows hardens again as his words hit you.

“No? Why not? Am I not good enough for you?” Your voice is rising. You sound like a whining child who hasn’t gotten their way. Muzan winces at the obvious pain seeping into your voice. You were nothing like he’d ever seen before. Something beautiful, a miracle in his eyes. Therefore, he did not answer you. He simply faded back into the shadows. With his disappearance, your hopes and dreams faded as well.

—

The next time you see Muzan is two years later. His hair is shorter than you last saw it, the curls kissing the nape of his neck. This neat look couldn’t contain the loose curls that framed his face. A starched white collar shirt was tucked into an ornate waistcoat. He looked utterly different, yet he was your Muzan. He had the same eyes, the same far-off look, and on top of that, you could practically taste his scent. It was overwhelming, crushing even, but in a way, you enjoyed the rush.

It was also a fact that you had escaped your village after one of the men tried to see how strong a half-blood was. He told you he was turned on by how revolting you were and he would take you as his wife in duty only. Until then you had never seriously thought about killing a human. The realization was both terrifying and freeing. So you fled to the entertainment district, living off of what you could at the Kyogoku House. There were so many smells here. Food, humans, sex, and demons.

You worked under a beautiful oiran, and you could tell… she wasn’t human. Part of you wanted to become friends with her, but if she hadn’t reached out for the sake of commonality, you didn’t think there was a chance of any other relationship than servant.

Muzan’s brows furrowed. He had come to visit Daki and yet your scent prosecuted his brain. Ever since he left you in the forest that day he had been thinking of a way to retrieve you. You were too precious to let out of his sight again. This time he would secure you. He could feel his blood boil at the thought of you living in the Ukiyo. Kyogoku House was well protected, but anywhere without him wasn’t safe for you. Were you being used by men far beneath you? Muzan had never felt such rage toward the thought of men touching a woman. He often indulged in watching, humans were ever so entertaining – but you weren’t human. You were one of his and he swallowed harshly at the fact that you weren’t only his.

He brushes past some of the lower-ranking courtesans, his eye twitching at their giggles. You watch from afar, the familiarity of his back etching a cold ache into your heart. He would leave again, of that you were sure. You hug the fresh sheets to your chest, making your way to the linen closet down the hall. “Ah, YN, I’ve been looking for you.” The Okaasan Omitsu stands before you. She has a cunning sneer behind the kind smile she wears.

You bow, storing the sheets away before turning your full attention to her. “Yes Okaasan?” You can smell the evil intent behind this woman, it makes your stomach sink.

“You wouldn’t mind doing me a favor would you?” She uses the word favor like you’d have a choice. She is the Okaasan after all. It’s like she thinks you’re some stupid girl that will follow whatever she says. Using the word favor is a manipulation tactic and if you were a naive girl, you would be eating out of the palm of her hand.

You tilt your head to the left, plastering a fake smile of your own onto your lips. You knew anything out of your mouth except ‘yes Okaasan’ would make things harder for yourself. So with all your better judgment pushed aside, you say exactly that.

Her eyes gleam. “Thank you, my dear. If you will kindly follow me.” She walks back up the hall, toward one of the private Ozashiki rooms. You glance around, nerves settling into your bones. You couldn’t be headed into one of these rooms, you weren’t even a kamuro. You were just an older shinzō.

She stops in front of the panel, a cruel smile lifting the corners of her mouth. No, please, not this. “You are very blessed my dear, one of our chūsan is interested in you.” She slides the door aside and sitting against a wall smoking a pipe is a middle-aged man. Cushions are scattered around the floor and a twisted smirk plays with his mouth when he sees you. Okaasan bows then slides the door shut behind you.

The room was stifling, the smoke choking out any of the senses you had. It was dizzying. “Mmm, you’re a lot older than I thought.” The man sneers, setting his pipe down. The fog of opium seemingly wraps around your throat, making it hard to breathe. “But you’ll do.” He laughs, patting the cushion next to him. “Why don’t you come a little closer?” He offers. Your body tenses. You were in danger, of that you were sure. You were not willing to give your virginity up to such a man but if you denied him the right to your own body, there would be outrage. You swallow, tentatively kneeling on the cushion next to him.

He leans over you, sniffing the area around your shoulder. You stiffen. “You smell so good, better than all those flora bitches.” He growls. “I like your natural…musk.” Oh Gods did this man – who probably has a wife and children – just compliment how you smell when you’ve been working all day? “What do you like about me?” What a loaded question.

You smile, one that shuts your eyes – if he saw the look in your eyes he’d be sure to know you were lying when you said, “I appreciate your generosity.” You bow your head and the man laughs heartily.

His tongue darts out to coat his lips. “I can be more generous if you’d like?” He moves himself closer to you. “I was blessed with wealth, good looks, and a tool to make women scream.” Please let the tool be an ice pick so you can lobotomize yourself. “Whad’ya say, darling?” He coos, going in for what appears to be a kiss even though you hadn’t been given the time to answer him.

You grimace away from his advance, shoving at his chest. The eerie playful tone in the room suddenly seems to vacuum out. The fog is still thick from the burning opium, but you don’t miss the way the man before you lunges for you. He’s panting above you with a charming pointy sneer. “Ah ah ah, not so fast. You haven’t serviced me, whore.” He digs his nails into your shoulder, pinning you to the wooden floor. “Look at you, begging for my cock with your eyes, ooohh you want it that bad you slut?” He hisses, fumbling with the buckle of his Western-style pants. You squirm wildly under his grasp but it’s like he’s infused with superhuman strength. “I’m gonna fuck you and then, as your reward,” His face is next to yours now, eyes glowing an electric yellow, pupils in slits. “I’m going to kill you.” His hand is on your throat, crushing your windpipe. You choke on what little air you were able to breathe earlier.

A demon, this man was a demon. One of your kind. No… he wasn’t. He was something else. He was driven by the carnal desire to fuck and kill. You were too weak to push him off, your internal forces constantly warring against each other. You had always presented as human, meek, malleable, and obedient. What you would give to have your demon side come forth, bite this fucker’s head off. You want to scream – but on account of his claws sinking into the back of your neck – if you even moved that would surely be the end of your life.

He tears your yukata to shreds, ripping the soft skin of your stomach open as well. Your mouth opens the pressure of a scream pushing against his hand. Blood mixes with the tattered cloth, the cotton dying red.

Muzan pauses, Daki grumbling about some inferior human drama. His eyes search the room, this time Daki taking notice from her self-indulged rant. Where was that smell coming from? He stands, silencing Daki before she can start whining again. The potent smell of blood was swirling to the top floor, but not just…any blood. “YN,” He hisses, the annoyance, rage, and blood-boiling sensations he felt earlier returning tenfold. Why were you bleeding? This was fresh cut blood, not from the dues women endured every month. He needed to find you, or he feared the worst. “I need to go.” He barely says to the demon next to him. Her face morphs into one of anger, and before she can hurl anything at him, Muzan slips out of her room. Where were you? He follows the pungent scent, clambering down the stairs and rushing down the hall until he’s in front of a private room. He’s sweating, for once fear is humming in his ear. He shoves the door to the side, witnessing a demon hunched over your body.

Your blood is pooling around you dying the wonderfully blue yukata you wore earlier a sickly brown color. The demon doesn’t have time to look up because Muzan is already crushing its head, slashing its throat to shreds of what it once was.

The room is covered in blood but the demon is dead. Muzan slides to the floor, cradling you in his lap. “YN, no, no please don’t die.” You were his miracle. You were his hope. If anything could save his damned soul it would be you. His arms are trembling as your stomach bleeds out, the skin marred, and…God the smell of your blood was driving him mad. It was something he shouldn’t be thinking about as you bleed out under him. You needed to regenerate. He wasn’t sure if you could so maybe your demon just needed a little push?

With his free hand, Muzan tears the flesh from his arm, bringing it down to your mouth. His blood trickles onto your lips, sliding into your mouth. After a few silent beats, your eyes shoot open. Muzan has never felt such joy as this very moment. Your arms wrap around his, bringing it into your mouth. Muzan hisses at the way your tongue dances around his wound, lapping up the blood he shed for you. You’re panting, gasping for more. Your eyes glow as you drag your tongue up the muscle of his forearm. His blood flows through you like your own life force, strengthening your nerves, hardening your muscles. He has made you stronger.

It sends a pinch of desire through Muzan. He hadn’t felt the heat of wanting to sink his cock into the warmth of a cunt in decades. You were mouthing at his arm, wounds healed on both ends, but now that you were moving the once whole yukata falls off your shoulders. Blood trails from your lips down your chest, between your breasts. Muzan was never one to fend off his desire to want. He took whatever he wanted, without a care. He wanted to take you without a care. Fuck you senseless into the floorboards, claw at you, feed on your blood while you fed on his. It was ecstasy just imagining driving his cock into your pretty tight pussy.

“I should’ve never left you.” He whispers and it sends a rolling wave of want through you. You move to straddle his lap.

“Then don’t leave me now.” You could both smell it, the heat and arousal in the air. “Take me, my Lord.” He smirks, holding onto your thighs.

He hums, enjoying the way you’re bare in front of him. You were a sight to behold. “Mmm, such a smart girl.” A portal opens underneath him, the wooden floor sinking into an expanse of rooms, platforms, doors, lights, and endless corridors. The sheer speed whips your hair around your face until – it doesn’t. You’ve stopped in the middle of whatever this place was. “Welcome home,” Muzan’s pink eyes darken to a deep crimson as he sits up straighter, pressing himself into you. You moan in delight as his hands work their way up your hips, sitting you down on the stiff part of his lap.

You tilt your head, peeking at him. “I’ve never liked pants,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his. He chuckles his smirk growing.

“And why is that?” He inquires, moving his tongue to lick up the blood that has traveled toward your navel. You choke out a moan as he makes his way between your breasts. You can feel his teeth against your skin and it’s a wretched thought. “Aheh,” He swipes at the crest of your breast.

“H-hard to get off.” Muzan hums against your skin in agreement, but he’s too preoccupied with the way you tremble with untapped pleasure.

He wants to tear into your flesh, mark you as his, burn only his name onto your tongue. “Such an eager kitten,” He licks his lips, capturing the back of your neck in his hands. “You want me bare that badly?” All you can manage is a small nod as he gingerly moves you so that you’re laying down. Your hips are still lined up with his as he gazes at you. “I can promise you I have a similar urgency.” He grins, pulling the belt from his breeches with a smooth movement. He tosses it to the side, but doesn’t make any more movements to pull his pants down. Muzan notices your heated gaze pointed toward his hardened groin.

Did you know nothing about the workings between a man and woman? His eyes trail down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. He wraps his arms around the bend of your knee, smirking when your eyes widen in surprise. He tugs you upwards, to where your legs are over his shoulders. Being this close to your glistening pink cunt made his groin stiffen even more, if that was possible. The smell of you was intoxicating. He couldn’t help himself. “What a fucking view.” He growls.

Muzan buries his head between your thighs, latching his mouth onto your swelling clit. You gasp in pleasure, breaths turning into ragged moans as he plunges his tongue deeper into you. “O-oh my God, f’ck, ngh.” With the way his tongue his twisting and sucking inside of you, breathing seemed impossible. His claws dig into your outer thigh, scratching red trails to your knees. He devours every bit of you he can reach, crazed by the tangy sweetness of your arousal. Your walls were squeezing around his tongue, heat running through your body.

Your own hands find your stiff nipples, rolling them around in your fingers. You couldn’t get enough, it was the same feeling you received from drinking his blood. Heat rolling around in your veins as his eyes take in your puffy cunt and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. He maneuvers one hand from under your knee to the one place that was being ignored on you – your entrance. It was like the gate to a shrine and he wanted to worship there for eternity. “Look at how fucking wet your cunt is.” His pointed nails shape into shorter rounder ones, he dare not damage this holy place. Then, without warning, he presses two fingers into you. A yelp echoes across the void of the infinity castle. “Ahhh, shit,” You huff, tensing from the sensation of your pussy being stretched.

Muzan knew you were a virgin, he would be lying if the fact didn’t make him grow more feral to have you sit on his cock and take his seed deep within you. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you. That was all he could think about while lapping up your wetness.

The slick from your cunt was sucking his fingers in, a growl rumbling around your clit. This makes you scream out as a shockwave shoots through you. Your thighs are shaking and every once and a while – as Muzan still selfishly fingers you through your climax, sucking on your clit – your body will twitch. Heavy and heady moans fall from your lips, breaking into whines as you come down from your high.

“You did such a good job my sweet,” Muzan lowers you gently back to the floor. Your neck is sore from being at an awkward angle for so long, but you would give anything to see the disheveled man before you with your arousal still on his lips. “That’s it. Prefect. You’re so perfect.” He mutters, licking his lips and watching you still play with your nipples.

Though you feel like you’ve just ascended, you crave more. You want Muzan to breed you like his own personal slut. “M-more,” You gasp. “I feel so empty my Lord.” You huff, the edges of your voice bleeding to a whine. Muzan’s eyes widen. He hadn’t intended to fuck you just yet. Give you some time to grow accustomed to sexual things so it wasn’t rushed, but your eyes are pleading him to continue. He’s… nervous, which isn’t like the demon king. He’s so eager to please you. Make sure you’re comfortable. He wants to give you hell, heaven, and the earth.

“You’re practically begging me.” He chuckles, unsure if you really knew what you were asking. There was no way that once Muzan slid into your heady cunt that he would not ravish you. There was no way to tell time in the infinity castle, so there was no way for him to know when to stop until he was satisfied. You squirm to get closer to him, spreading your legs wide for him. His gaze drops from yours to your center, whatever shred of humanity that was left in him suddenly flying away. “Such a filthy slut. You’re already hungry for more? You want me to fill you up? Then beg for it.” His eyes narrow into slits, the magma growing in his belly.

Your body cools with a shiver of excitement, as you reach down in between your thighs. You purse your lips and then spread your labia apart. The cool air tickles the sticky wetness but you can tell it’s doing something for him. “Please, my King, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think. I want you to take my virgin pussy and make it yours.”

The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. “As you wish my Queen.” He frees his cock and you have to take a moment to gulp at the sheer size of it. The head is leaking precum and bruised a red color from the lack of release. The shaft is a pale pink, a thick vein running down the underside. The muscles of his hips also catch your attention. They were unlike the drawings some of the courtesans had shown you. His were muscular, ready to thrust into you for hours.

Muzan lines himself up at your entrance, this time with the head of his cock. The idea was thrilling, finally pushing into your pussy and breaking the barrier of your womanhood. He hisses as your slick coats him, making it easy enough to start entering you. Your face contorts with a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Shhh, you can take it.” You want to wiggle away from him, the pain of his member stretching you out is enough to break you. “Ah ah ah, you’re not going anywhere pretty girl. Remember you asked for this.” Muzan leans over you seizing your mouth with his own. You share a leisurely kiss as he swallows your moans.

He feels the head of his cock hit your hymen and with a wince he thrusts past it. He can feel the rush of silky blood around his cock, but he tries his best to divert your attention with heated kisses. You break free, a long drawn out moan gasping out of you. “Ahhh, oh my, hngh nngh yes!”

Muzan nuzzles into your neck, the feeling of your walls clenching around him driving him practically insane. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am. Tell me how good I am at fucking you.” He hisses out, desperate for your compliments and approval.

“Nnnggh, s’good, f’ckin’ me s’good.” You slur, drunk on how he guided a new path into you. You pant and writhe under him, eyes fluttering shut.

“Not yet my love, I want you to watch.” He starts to move his hips and you wince in burning pleasure. “That’s it. You’re doing so good.” He grunts, snapping his hips back into you. The wet slap of skin hitting skin sends shivers down your back.

You’re straining against the build up in your stomach, a pit of coils wanting to spring forth. “Mmm, harder.” You huff, reach out to grab the back of his neck. He shakes his head, a playful smirk on his swollen lips.

“Use your manners.” He teases, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Please fuck me harder.” You mewl just as he starts to thrust into you with a quickened rhythm. Your breath is sucked away by the pure bliss aching from the friction.

Muzan bites down on his lip, brushing a few curls that had come free from behind his ear. “You like it when I do that?” He quizzes, fucking you harder. You can only manage a nod.

Your voice has grown hoarse from moans breaking into screams and whines. You buck your hips along with his as you arch your back, tumbling over your peak. “F’ck, haa haa hnngh,” You squeeze his cock and release his neck, breathless from your second orgasm.

“Cum all over my cock, fuck,” Muzan growls, the feeling of your slick cum coating his length. He was gliding into you with such ease. He would apologize to you later for this. He pounds into your sensitive cunt, overstimulating you as you cry out. He rams himself into you and stays deep within your pussy. Panting heavily Muzan finally crashes over his own wave of pleasure. Splurting his cum around the walls of your pussy. He doesn’t want to pull out – for one fact he wanted all of his cum to stay within you – and for another fact, you were all the salvation he needed. He could find redemption with you. He rolls you both onto your side, hiking your leg over his hip to make sure he can stay inside of you.

This was it, you had driven him to the edge and he would make sure to never let anything else touch you. As he gazes upon your soft features drifting off to a satisfied slumber he feels what once was his heart ache. “We should get married.” He blurts out.

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llamaisllama777 · 11 months ago

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My mistake it was Kiwi who drew this. Not @ayyy-imma-ninja

My bad 😬 there are a lot of thumbnail artists, and sometimes I get confused. I don't want someone to not get the credit they deserve. If anyone knows if Kiwi has a Tumblr, please let me know. Sorry, Kiwi, my bad.

TSAMS, EAPS EPISODE REVIEW! 👏 👏 👏

... I didn't know who MUCH I needed this piece of art in my life till now! Kiwi THANK YOU FOR DRAWING THIS! This is gonna be my banner for a bit. Okay, onto the actual review. We finally got some Sun and Solar bonding moments, and I'm happy about that. I noticed a lot of people mentioned that Sun and Solar didn't really hang out a lot, and I thought "No they have to have hanged out like this before?" Well, color me surprised they didn't really hang out a lot. So, I'm glad we got an episode with just them bonding. Jack has become a stinkin' criminal. He stole a bugatti! Do you know how expensive that car is?! (Seriously, do you cause I don't.) Solar, you might want to do some reprogramming or teach Jack morals cause at this rate he'll steal the declaration of Independence! Move over, Nick Cage!

Solar is still wrapping his head around the new moon/Nexus situation, and I don't blame him. Imagine waking up from being dead only to discover your best friend/brother/cousin has become dangerously unstable and tried to kill one of your family members. Ya, you'd need a few days to process all that, too. But I'm glad Solar has Sun and the others to lean on. I am still very worried about what will happen when Solar and Nexus meet again. Pray for him y'all.

First gaming video of the Eclipse and Puppet show! Yay! 👏 👏 👏 👏 The thumbnail artist did an amazing job on everyone. I love how they draw Foxy with his little scruff, and Earth just looks adorable as always. Okay, now, spoiler alert in 3..2..1

Foxy loses... as usual.

That's not much of a surprise, but what is a surprise is EARTH IS HERE! She popped by for a visit. I hope we get an episode where she explores this universe with Eclipse and Puppet. That would be fun. Eclipse is surprisingly good at Game of life. Maybe it's just luck, but my headcanon us he's just a master of all board games!

Amazing episodes today from everyone! 👏 👏

11/10 👏

I need more Marvel x TSBS art in my life.

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pure-smut · 11 months ago

Text

sunshine.

featuring: Hinata Shoyo x f!reader

contains: timeskip!Hinata, best friends to lovers, unprotected s*x, creampie, slight overstimulation at the end

word count: 2.4k

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

MDNI | 18+ content

Masterlist

a/n: if anyone knows the artist for the cover picture, I searched everywhere and couldn't find them!! Pls and ty in advance <3

When Hinata Shoyo left for Brazil, it was like an eclipse over your life.

You’re best friends so you still talk almost every day, whether it’s quick messages squeezed into busy days or a video call right as one of you wakes up and the other one is about to sleep. But Hinata was the sunshine in your life - a bright, burning ball of energy that powered your days. When he left, everything went a little bit gloomier.

You’re busy yourself with college – meeting new people, keeping up with classes, and making time to catch up with everyone from Karasuno. Still, it feels like a candle trying to compete with the sun.

So when you show up at a house party, not really feeling up for it but wanting to see your old classmates again, you stop dead in the doorway.

Sitting on the sofa, surrounded by everyone you know, you see shock of orange hair and hear a familiar laugh. Your mouth falls open.

“Sho…?”

Hinata turns at the sound of your voice, a broad smile breaking out on his face. The moon slides to the side, the sun shining again. Your heart thunders in your ears.

“Y/n!” he calls out, leaping up and sprinting over to you.

You’re still in shock when he scoops you up into a hug, squeezing you tight.

“You’re here?” is all you can say.

Hinata doesn’t stop hugging you but you hear him laugh, vibrating through his chest.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” He pulls back to grin at you, brown eyes alight. “Are you surprised?”

You huff out laughter, your shock subsiding, and wrap your arms around his neck for another hug.

“It’s a great surprise,” you say, smiling hard.

It’s only when you put your arms around him that you realise how big he’s gotten. He’s a few inches taller than before and he’s broader than you remember, his shoulders hard as rocks. When you pull away from the hug, you hope he doesn’t notice the blush dusting your cheeks.

You both make your way into the party to a chorus of greetings from your old classmates. Hinata sits back down on the sofa but you linger, realising all the seats are taken.

“Um…”

“Sit here, y/n,” Hinata says, patting his thigh.

You don’t know why the idea makes you blush so hard – you and Hinata were always physically close, not afraid to hug or touch. Maybe it's because it's been years since you saw him in person. Maybe it's because...

You search his face for any sign he feels as flustered as you but he’s wearing an easy smile, his head cocked to the side as he waits for you to reply.

“S-sure,” you stammer out.

As soon as you slide onto Hinata’s lap, his arm snakes around your waist, resting his hand on your hip. His thighs are solid beneath you, as built as the rest of him. You obviously knew he trained hard in Brazil but you didn’t realise just how much he’s changed. You chance a glance at him, wondering if anything else has changed.

Hinata catches your eye.

“You okay?” he asks, flashing you a smile. “Comfy?”

Confidence. Hinata hasn’t only gained muscle in Brazil – the awkward teenage boy you knew has been replaced with a man. A man who flirts with his best friend, who invites you to sit on his lap with ease.

You wonder if he’s flirting because it’s you or because it’s his personality now. You’re not sure.

You’ve been quiet for too long because Hinata’s smile starts to drop. His eyebrows furrow.

“Seriously, you okay?” He lowers his voice, leaning in closer. “You don’t need to sit here if you don’t want.”

You shake your head.

“No, it’s fine. Sorry, I was just…” You give him a sheepish smile. “I was thinking, you’ve changed a lot.”

“I have?” Hinata looks genuinely confused before his expression clears. “Oh! Yeah, I grew like three inches!”

He grins wide and you smother your laughter.

“I mean, yeah, that,” you say. “But you’re like… bigger.”

You get the first glimpse of the Hinata you used to know as his cheeks tint pink. He rubs the back of his neck bashfully and you’re treated to his bicep bulging with the movement.

“Heh, yeah, I guess so.” His eyes swivel to yours. “You’ve changed too.”

This catches you off guard. You glance down at yourself before looking back up at him.

“Me?”

“Yeah. It’s like you get prettier every year.”

Your cheeks go hot. Hinata holds your gaze and you get a familiar feeling in your stomach, something you haven’t felt since he left. Intense, like you’re looking directly at the sun. Your skin prickles and you feel light-headed, like you’ve been sunbathing too long. It’s the effect Hinata has on you, that he’s always had on you.

Your sunshine.

Hinata’s hand tightens on your hip, not looking away. There’s something taut between you that thrums with electricity. You know there’s a party full of people around you but everything around Hinata has fallen into darkness. He’s the burning ball of fire in front of you, blocking out all else.

“I really want to kiss you,” he confesses, voice low and thick. “But I want to do it somewhere better. You deserve somewhere better.”

Your throat feels suddenly dry. You open your mouth to say something but your voice sticks. You give a small nod instead, not able to tear your eyes away from his.

“Let me take you out tomorrow,” Hinata says. “Please?”

You lick your lips to wet them and Hinata eyes dart down before flicking back up.

“Yeah,” you manage to croak out. “I’d really like that.”

Hinata grins like he’s just won a volleyball game, his ears pink. You both return to the chatter of the party but you feel Hinata’s thumb tracing circles on your hip, his hand on you the entire night.

You spend the entire next day trying on clothes and throwing them to the floor. Hinata had told you to dress nice and be ready for 7pm but he insisted on keeping the rest a secret. The closer that 7pm gets, the more frantic you are.

Eventually, you settle on a short black dress, showing just enough leg and cleavage without looking like you’re about to hit up a club. You’re finishing the last of your make-up as the doorbell goes. 7pm on the dot.

You open the door to see Hinata grinning, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers, and your heart melts. He’s wearing a fitted emerald green shirt, tight across his chest and arms, in contrast to the fiery orange of his hair. If you hadn’t noticed the change in him before, you wouldn’t be able to ignore it now.

But Hinata’s smile falters as he sees you. He blinks once, twice, his mouth dropping open. His eyes trail down your body as his ears turn hot pink.

“Holy shit,” he exclaims.

It’s your turn to blush under the intensity of Hinata’s gaze. You gesture for him to come inside and he does as you close the door behind him. You barely have time to turn around before Hinata closes the space between you, forcing you to press your back against the door.

Hinata scoops his hand under your jaw, tilting your face up to his. You can feel the heat radiating off him as he dips his head, his other hand finding your waist. When he kisses you, he feels like molten fire.

Hinata’s lips are soft but his grip on your jaw is firm, only a fraction of his strength. You clutch at the hard muscles of his back, anchoring yourself to him. When his lips part yours to deepen the kiss, you give no resistance. His tongue meets your own as you moan into his mouth, melting under his touch. Hinata’s body responds, his cock hardening until you can feel it pressed against your lower stomach.

When he pulls away, you’re both breathless.

“I’m sorry.” He presses his forehead against yours. “I had a whole plan but when I saw you…”

Hinata tightens his grip on you, his fingers tangling in your hair as he cradles the back of your skull.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he finishes, shaking his head. “I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

“It was perfect,” you tell him and it’s the truth.

You’re almost dizzy and your skin feels like it’s on fire. You’ve always missed your best friend but now you crave him. Your hands run up his back as you reach up to kiss him again.

“Fuck…” he mumbles against your mouth. “I don’t wanna stop.”

“Then let’s not stop,” you say, kissing across his jaw.

“The reservation…” Hinata’s hips grind against yours on instinct as your lips reach his neck. “Our – ah – date…”

He groans as you lick across his windpipe, his bulge now apparent as he continues to grind it against you, his body moving of its own accord.

“I waited so long to show you…” He sounds so upset with himself.

“Sho.” You take his face in your hands, looking at him. His eyes are half-lidded and glazed over. “All I want is you. I don’t need anything else.”

Hinata’s face softens. He leans forward to bury his face in your neck.

“I missed you so much,” he says, voice muffled. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You reach around to run your fingers through his vibrant hair, feeling him shudder with pleasure under your touch.

“Show me,” you whisper.

Hinata’s resolve crumbles. He’s spent so long taming his impulsive side, the part of him that moves without thinking, without regard for consequences. But now you’re in front of him, asking him to take you, and the rest of the world goes white.

He dips his head to kiss you again, this time with intent. His hands grab at you, fingers digging into your flesh as he presses you flush to him, trapping you between his body and the door.

As his tongue laps into your mouth, he reaches down to grab your thigh, holding it up and forcing your dress to ride up over your hips. His bulge grinds against your clothed pussy, the friction making your clit throb with need. You tilt your head back and sigh as Hinata trails wet kisses down your neck.

With two layers of fabric between you, you start to whine, needing more. Hinata’s spent years wondering what you sound like, imagining the noises he could get you to make, but nothing compares to hearing you for the first time.

His movements are frantic, hooking his fingers over the hem of your panties before tugging them down. They’re not even fully off, still dangling around your ankle when Hinata unzips his jeans, pushing them down just enough for his cock to spring free.

Now it’s happening – now it’s finally happening – he can’t hold back. He grabs your ass with both hands, lifting you until you can feel his fat tip pressing against your hole.

“Are you okay?” he breathes. His cheeks are flushed pink, his lips red and swollen. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready, Sho. I need you.”

Hinata presses you against the door as he pushes himself inside. He doesn’t want to go too fast, doesn’t want to hurt you, but as soon as he feels your walls around him, he can’t help himself. He pumps in and out of you shallowly, desperate for more friction from your heavenly pussy without going too deep too fast.

“Ah!” you gasp as he penetrates your needy hole, the ridges around his mushroom tip stimulating your nerves in a way that makes your thighs quiver.

You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him deeper. Hinata is more than happy to oblige, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he sinks his cock further inside you. You grip the hard muscles of his shoulders, feeling him reach the sensitive spot inside you.

When you open your eyes, you see Hinata watching your face intently, a notch between his brows. His eyes have done dark, that same intense look in his face when he’s locked onto something. Or someone.

Hinata’s cock slides back and forth over the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you and you know it’s pushing you close to the edge.

“T-there, Sho…” you whimper. “Right there, fuck-!”

Your voice is so sweet, so high with lust and need. Hinata picks up his speed, fucking you so hard the door rattles behind you. You didn’t know he had this in him, this feral side, but you’re more than happy to be on the other end of it. Your cunt is drooling over his cock, only making it easier for him to fuck you as hard as he wants.

“Sho, I’m… I’m gonna…”

You dig your nails into his shoulders, your toes curling as he brings you to orgasm.

Your plush, slick walls massage his cock, quivering around him as you cum. Hinata’s stroked himself to the thought of you before - many times - but nothing comes close to this. His fist can’t compare to the way you milk his cock, so hot and tight. But it’s your face that Hinata can’t stop watching.

The way your lips part, your features contorting in pleasure, your eyes glazed over with lust. Hinata knew when he left for Brazil that he loved you. He didn’t think he could fall any further. Until now.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans, his cock throbbing, knowing he’s close. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Even as he cums, Hinata can’t stop fucking you. He unleashes thick ropes of cum inside you, still pumping in and out, a flurry of curses falling from his lips. The mix of your fluids is indescribable, the noise of your sloppy cunt only spurring him on. He keeps going until he can’t cum anymore, until it’s almost painful. Only then does he pull out, a flood of his cum following, running down your thigh.

“Holy shit,” Hinata gasps, releasing his grip on you so you can stand.

When your legs quake, he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you up.

“Fuck, Sho…” you huff out laughter.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, running a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

Hinata glances down at where your dress is stained with his cum and winces.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me clean you up. Where’s the bathroom? I’ll run you a bath.”

“Slow down,” you laugh. “Let me look at you a second, okay?”

You reach up to cup his face and he rests his hand on yours, turning to kiss your palm, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Let’s make up for lost time, hm?” you say with a smile and Hinata looks at you like you’re made of sunshine.

masterlist

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