#*whispers* this is once again where i say leaving buck single and content at the end of season 6 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captains-simp · 3 years

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Carol Danvers ~ Put On A Show

(This isn't what she looks like in this fic but it is the ✨I'm gonna make you see the stars vibe✨)

Carol Danvers X fem!Reader Smut

Word Count: 3,569

Includes: lil bit of public teasing, thigh grinding, edging, gagging on fingers, praise, strap on, overstimulation and oral

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Buy me a coffee ☕

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Being an Avenger taught you to handle a lot of difficult situations.

You knew how to take down a state of the art quinjet in a minute. You could survive on an unknown planet. You had played a significant part in tracking down and rounding up the last Hydra agents.

And yet no one had ever prepared you to be stuck in a room with a hundred arrogant business men who were desperately trying to impress you with what they thought was power.

You were certain you could have better conversations with a caveman.

You weren't a superspy like Natasha. You couldn't fake interest, put on a realistic smile and pretend to enjoy yourself like she could.

You weren't Tony who genuinely enjoyed himself at those kind of parties and thrived at being the center of attention.

And you weren't Carol who didn't need either of those things. If she didn't want to talk to someone, she wouldn't. It only took one of her looks to make any of the leaches hurry away. She didn't have to worry about the repercussions of doing so because there weren't any. Non of the guests would ever be willing to admit they were intimidated by a woman.

Not that you were jealous of what Carol had. Carol wasn't the kind of person you wanted to be, but she sure as hell was the kind of person you wanted to be with. And that woman was one of a kind.

The distraction of the Captain was definetly not helping you keep your cool. She wore a tight fitting dark blue suit that you had been struggling to stop yourself staring at ever since you had first seen it. Her hair was hanging loose at her shoulders and had become messy from the amount of times she had run her slim hand through it. That alone had your mind reeling of what other ways you could get it to look like that.

You had been lucky so far, everytime you stole a glance at the Captain and her attire she happened to be in convosation with someone else. Although that meant you two hadn't exchanged a single word that night.

Thankfully, you had soon learnt that half of the guests never actually noticed if you zoned out, perfectly content to continue rambling about themselves. While others could zone out themselves as they talked...while they stared at your chest and feuling your urge to smack them.

You were in a dress that you hadn't bought and were far from comfortable in around these people. A thin glass of champagne was clutched firmly in your hand and you predicted it would shatter by the end of the night. You had lost count of how many you had downed with your back turned, stopping once you felt lightheaded.

You had regretted it at first, but you became internally grateful you had saved your heightened senses when you felt a familiar hand rest on your lower back.

Training almost everyday with the blonde Captain had familiarised you with her firm grip and reassuring touch. It was the only kind of contact you had gotten from her until that moment and you treasured it greatly, praying Carol hadn't noticed your slight faulted at the knees.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to steal this one." Carol stated in a very unafraid tone as her hand pressed into you more. You wanted to melt into her touch.

The man you had been not-really-listening to (because you could not for the life of you remember anyone's name) opened his mouth to speak and probably try to get Carol to stay, was ignored by the blonde who was already guiding you away with her hand.

Of course you didn't protest, throwing a party over it in your head while the butterflies in your stomach danced along to the music. You didn't even realise Carol was leading you to the bar, too focused on the fact her hand never left your back as she walked beside you without a word.

You did however, realise when you almost walked into the bar stall before gracefully (that's what you told yourself) sliding onto the stool. Carol sat down next to you and said something to the bartender you didn't hear or really care about.

When she did look back at you her gaze was piecing along with her usual confident aura. Anyone who pulled off a suit the way Carol did had every right to some arrogance, especially as it somehow made her even more attractive.

"I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress before." Carol said with a knowing smile.

"I don't think you'll be seeing me in one ever again." You respond as you glance anywhere but Carol, unable to hold her intense gaze.

"I'll have to treasure the memory even more then. You look beautiful." Carol compliments and watches you blush.

"You clean up pretty nicely yourself, Captain."

You don't fail to notice the way her jaw tightens slightly at the title, but she's quick to pass it off when the bartender places two bottles down on the counter.

You realise you're still holding your champagne so you put it on the side to swap it with small bottle of beer, already taking a sip to have something to do instead of figiting under Carol's gaze.

"I didn't need you to say it, you know? You undressing me with your eyes was telling enough." You choked slightly on your drink the moment those words left her lips, embarrassment shooting down every last butterfly in your stomach.

"I-I wasn't- it was an accident- I mean! I- um..." Carol watched you ramble with an amused grin and took a sip of her beer herself.

You could feel your cheeks heating up and your fight or flight instincts kicking in.

"I was enjoying the attention." Carol smirked as she moved closer to you so the faint smell of her expensive perfume overtook your senses.

You had been so sure the whole night that Carol hadn't noticed what you were doing. You thought you had gotten away with it all. Natasha's tips on concealing emotions and thoughts were clearly paying off on Carol more than you.

"And its not like it's the first time." Carol almost whispered as her voice dropped in a way that went straight to your core.

The Captain placed a gentle but firm hand on your bare knee as she studied you. Her brown eyes flickered across your face while your own y/e/c eyes stayed fixed on hers.

"Is this a test?" You whispered under your breath.

"Perhaps." She whispered back as her fingers stroked your bare skin slowly. "I'm sure I could test you some other ways though." Her hand was along your thigh now. You desperetly wanted to grab it and pull it up further but you had to remember you were in a room full of very important people.

Carol noticed you glance around the room and must have known what you were thinking because she smirked slightly before withdrawing her hand and standing up from the stall.

"Come." She ordered. You felt goosebumps across your whole body and hoped it wouldn't be the last time you heard her say that tonight.

You restrained yourself to waiting a few seconds before following Carol in the most subtle way you could manage when you wanted to sprint over to her side.

You weren't really aware of where Carol was leading you, but once you rounded the corner away from the party you sped up to close the distance between you both.

After rounding a few corners of the complicated hallway you realised you had lost sight of the Captain. Just as you were about to risk calling out her name a strong hand gripped your forearm and pulled you out of the corridor and into Carol's arms.

Her lips were on yours instantly. She had you backed into a wall before you could comprehend any of what was happened but her kiss was so eager you returned it without any thought.

The blonde's lips were unbelievably soft. They felt perfect against your own as you tried to match her pace.

Her hands were cupping your face with surprising gentleness so you wrapped your hands around her neck to pull her impossibly closer, accidently pulling on a few strands and earning a low groan from her.

She bit down on your lip harshly, making you moan audibly until you were muffled by her tongue invading your mouth.

You could taste the beer both of you had barely started and something else that was strikingly Carol. It was intoxicating and you didn't want it to end.

The friction Carol sparked when she pressed one of her muscular thighs between your bare legs was sinfully blissful. You moaned into Carol's mouth when you felt her very deliberately press against your heat and apply a teasing amount of pressure to your throbbing clit.

"Carol." You whispered her name like a chant. She smirked against you as she turned her attention to you jaw then neck, nipping and sucking at the skin exposed to her. You arched your neck to give her more access and felt your breathing become laboured.

This probably wasn't helped by Carol's hand on your bare thigh, gripping the skin in a much firmer way than she had at the bar and venturing further up.

Her hand disappeared beneath your dress in no time, massaging every inch of skin she came across.

You couldn't help it. Her warm lips, her strong hands and invasive thigh made you feel lightheaded and you couldn't stop your instincts of grinding yourself on Carol's thigh.

You desperatly sought more friction that your Captain's thigh could produce. What started as small rotations of your hips soon turned into full on desperate grinding. Your thin panties were soaked and clung to your skin, you were sure you were going to leave patches on Carol's expensive suit trousers but both of you were far from caring.

You could feel Carol continue to smirk into your neck with each mewl that left your lips. She grabbed your hands and pinned them against the wall above your head and that somehow made you needier.

The beautiful friction against your clit was one that had you moaning Carol's name continuously. It didn't take long for the familiar coil to tighten in your power abdomen and making your movements increasingly erratic.

You bucked against your Captain as you sought you sweet release only to have it pulled away from you.

Carol stepped away with a shit eating grin as she watched you struggle to hold yourself against the wall and give her a confused look.

"Why?" Was all you could manage, embarrassingly out of breath.

"Because I can." She smirked. "Did you want to cum, baby? Do you want to feel your release?"

"Please." You said shamelessly as you gave her a pleading look from your vulnerable position.

"Then be a good girl and bend over that desk for me."

You hadn't even noticed you were in an office, too busy trying to get yourself off on Carol's thigh than take in your surroundings. You didn't hesitate to place your hands on the far side of the desk and bend yourself over it so your ass was out for Carol. You glanced behind you to see Carol smirking as she took in your appearance in the new position.

She stalked towards you and placed a hand on the back of your thigh while the other pushed your back down further into the table. Her hand trailed up under your dress before she ran her fingers over the material covering your ass. Her movements were slow and teasing, trying to enhance your desperation to a place you wouldn't come back from that night.

Her slim fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your panties and gradually pulled them down, subsequently allowing her fingers to brush over your ass.

Once the thin material dropped to your feet Carol had you spread your legs for her as far as you could while she lifted your dress over your hips.

You guessed she really did like the dress.

Your pussy pulled around nothing as it was exposed to the cold air of the room and Carol's teasing fingers ghosting over your skin.

"Eyes front." She said as she stood back. It was hard to resist the urge to turn around and look when you could hear Carol undoing her belt buckle.

You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan when the blonde brushed the silicone against your folds. You were both shocked and aroused at the discovery that the Captain had been packing all night. You wanted her more at the thought that she had planned this.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt two slim fingers against your lips. You opened your mouth to allow Carol to slip her fingers in and tried not to moan around them at the heated gesture.

You sucked eagerly on Carol's fingers in an attempt to please her and hope it would give you some preparation for the girthy strap. It wouldn't.

You were caught off guard again when Carol continued to push her fingers forward, further than you were expecting at first then more than you could take. You gagged around her fingers and heard a chuckle from your sadistic Captain.

"Good girl." She whispered against your ear before biting down softly.

You were so caught up in the praise you almost forgot about the strap until Carol nudged it between your lips. You tried to grip onto the table more as she slowly pushed the head into your soaking pussy and moaned around her fingers still tickling the back of your throat.

You were extremely unprepared to take something that size, but that only spurred Carol on more and added to your arousal that had your lower lips slick for the strap to ease into you.

Once Carol was half way she paused when you started breathing heavily through your nose as you continued to suck her fingers. But the break was short and without any warning, the Captain thrust the rest of the girthy toy into your cunt.

You moaned around her fingers and pressed your head further into the desk. Carol barely gave you a chance to adjust to the filling of being so full. You're reminded of her impatient nature when she pulls the silicone toy out to the hilt before snapping her hips back against you and causing the strap to burry itself deep inside you again.

You knew Carol was strong and you had seen her doing hip thrusts in the gym before, but you had never imagined the force she would be able to muster when slamming the fake cock into you over and over.

Carol eventually took her fingers away from your mouth and wiped your saliva along the side of your neck before gripping it in her hands, threatening to cut off your breathing and blood flow.

Her pace never faulted. It brought you an intense amount of pleasure everytime that had you stumbling over your words.

'Carol...please...it's- I...so good." Was all you were able to say.

Her name fell from your lips over and over as your cunt clenched around the invading toy. It never failed to hit the hilt of your pussy and brushes against your most pleasurable spot, every movement made it brush some incredible nerve.

You moaned louder as you tried to fuck yourself back on her strap. You were so close to your orgasm and it had already been set up to be the best fuck you ever had so you were so desperate to finally reach it.

"Are you gonna cum for your Captain?" Carol asked as her thighs continued to slap against your own.

"Yes Captain! Please...I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me." She husks as she brings you over the edge and flying through your orgasm. You completely slump against the desk and Carol fucks you through your high.

White blanks appear in your vision but you're too out of it to care.

You're moaning, almost screaming, in the pleasure that's overwhelming you and you don't realise how sensitive you are until Carol continues to pound the strap into you.

"Carol..." You whine at her perfect pace. She's still going so hard, so fast, and fuck she's so deep inside you.

The vigor of her first fucking already had your pussy overworked and sensitive, and yet you can't stop yourself from incoherently begging her not to stop.

"Please Captain! Don...don't stop...so good- so good!" You cry out as another orgasm crashes over you.

You're shuddering now but still swimming in pleasure. You can't stop yourself from bucking yourself back against her.

Carol holds your hips down firmly as she thrusts the strap into your overworked cunt. They're less coordinated this time, more about establishing the control Carol has over you.

You can't form any words this time. The only sounds in the room is Carol's thighs slapping against yours, your whorish moans and the thick strap fucking your leaking pussy. You were vaguely aware of the audible sounds of your pussy before you break into your third earth shattering orgasm.

You're completly limp against the desk and trying your best to breathe normally.

Your pussy is throbbing and pulsing around the strap that Carol very slowly eases out of you and leaves you feeling extremly empty and sore. You know you're gonna be feeling it the next day.

"I don't think I can stand." You finally muttered weakly, not trusting your legs to even attempt to let go of the desk beneath you.

"You don't need to. Get on your knees." Carol ordered from behind you. You shivered at her words and tried to take a moment to compose yourself but the blonde was apparently growing impatient...again.

She held your hips with an iron grip and flipped you onto your back to see her towering over you. You used your arms to help you into a sitting position on the edge of the table before falling down onto you knees infront of your Captain.

Your knees ached from landing on the hard floor but you were much more focused on the smirk playing on Carol's soft lips.

"So obedient, such a good girl for me." Carol cooed as she ran her fingers through your hair and pulled you towards her now strapless core. You could see her pink folds glistening in arousal and you wanted nothing more than to taste her.

"Use that pretty mouth of yours to make me cum, baby." Carol instructed.

You wasted no time. You licked an eager strip through the blonde's folds and moaned against her as you collected her wetness on your tongue. She was so sweet and you were instantly addicted.

You did this a few more times, pushing your tongue further between her folds everytime until you couldn't hold off anymore.

You gripped the back of Carol's thighs and sunk your tongue between her folds. The moan she gave in response made your stomach flip and swell with pride. It was like discovering a new song you wanted to listen to on repeat.

You retracted your tongue and began sucking softly on Carol's wet folds to taste as much of her wetness as your could. You then switched your attention to her throbbing clit and sucked it harshly into your mouth.

"Fuck so good! You've got such a good mouth." Carol praised continuously as you pulled out all of your tricks in hopes of pleasing her.

You kept alternating between fucking her with your tongue as deeply as you could to taking her neglected bud in your mouth. Your efforts soon paid off.

Carol grinded herself against your mouth as she cursed and praised you amongst moans. She was gripping your hair so tightly you couldn't help but moan into her, aiding her pleasure.

"I'm gonna cum, fuck!" She gasped out as you sucked as harshly as you could on her clit.

Her bundle of nerves pulsed in your mouth and you could feel her cunt clenching around nothing as she came with a cry of your name.

She sounded so good when she came. You wanted to hear it again, to see her. But once Carol had finished her high and you had lapped up every last bit of her white liquid she pushed you back gently.

She sat back on the dest as she regained her steady breathing and tapped her lap as she smiled at you.

You had just about enough strength mustered in your legs to allow you to stand up from your position and sit on Carol's lap.

She wrapped an arm around your waist and cupped your cheek with her hand to pull you in for a kiss. She smiled against you as she tasted herself on your lips and kissed you longingly.

"You were everything I dreamed you would be, baby. You did so good for me." You blushed under her praise and buried your head in the crook of her neck in exhaustion but mainly comfort.

Neither of you had any intentions to return to the party after that.

#brie larson #captain marvel #captain marvel imagines #captain marvel smut #captain marvel x reader #carol danvers #carol danvers imagines #carol danvers smut #carol danvers x reader #marvel #carol danvers imagine #captain marvel imagine

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writteninkat · 3 years

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Kitten | Nanami x Reader

summary: Nanami smiles, manhandling you to flip you around. His gold plated name on your neck glistens under the red light. He parts your legs, watching as your cunt oozes out greedy amounts of slick.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: name calling (kitten, daddy), clit slapping, ass slapping, deep throating

a/n: here's a little gift to all my Nanami sinners out there lmao

<500 follower event>

Nanami noticed that you've been ordering online too much already. Just this week he found eight average sized boxes from kittenbasics. Were you planning on getting a cat?

Today has been very tiring for him. Not only has he been stabbed on his side but he also came home to an empty apartment. You had sent him a message saying you were going out with some friends tonight.

Just as he was about to close the door behind him, something caught his eye. He turns to his side and sees three more brown boxes on the floor. Frowning, he picks them up, already knowing they're uour orders. He takes them to the kitchen counter, setting them on it as he grabs a quick glass of water for himself.

As he gulps the water down, his eyes doesn't look away from the packages, curiosity getting the best of him when he sets the empty glass down and walks towards the boxes.

What shit had you been buying online that it has you glued on your computer screen almost every night?

He reads the package's description, frowning when it doesn't explain the contents inside the box. Only your address, name and contact number. Did she buy this from somewhere illegal or something?

He takes a small fruit knife from one of the drawers, pushing the blade through the packaging tape and swiftly running it across the box, cutting the tape open. He proceeds to cut the redt of the sides, softly placing the knife on the counter when he's finished.

Long, slender fingers open the covers of the box and digging through the packing peanuts, looking for the item. Alas, the pads of his thumbs and index fingers touch a velvet-like box. Nanami takes it out, furrowing his brows when he reads the intricate cursive writing on the top of the box.

Kitten basics.

He opens the box slowly, careful as to not damage what was inside. The product his gaze sat on had his heart dropping to his stomach. On a silk-covered miniature pillow inside the box rests a pink collar with his name, Nanami, sculpted in uppercase letters in gold. He takes the collar out, his member already stirring in his pants as he runs his thumb across his name.

A smirk tickles at his lips as his eyes move towards the other two boxes. After opening them both, he finds that one box had cat ears and knee socks in it while the other had a butt plug in a form of a cat's tail.

You definitely knew Nanami likes cats. And you definitely knew he loved it when she begged for him.

You come home to a dark apartment. Guessing your husband hasn't come home yet, you kick off your shoes rather drunkenly, stumbling your way to the kitchen where you gulped down a glass of water. You turn off the lights after placing the glass on the sink.

You stumble your way to your shared bedroom, furrowing your brows when you see that your led lights have been turned on and your actual lights off. Your eyes scan at the items on the bed; cat ears, a cat's tail buttplug, and- your eyes widen at the sight of the special pink chocker with your husband's gold plated name on it.

You feel strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back to his body as he breathes into your ear. "I was wondering what you've been buying online since I've been receiving many packages throughout the week." He runs his hand down your side, fingers teasing the hem of your short, black, bodycon dress.

"Care to explain what these are, kitten?" He whispers into your ear, fingers hooking under your dress, pulling it up to reveal the pink lacy thong you have on. "Leaving the house with such lewd underwear on? Were you planning on showing this to someone else?" He asks, pressing two fingers against your cunt. You press your thighs together as you shake your head, "No, daddy. All of you." You moan loudly, letting him push you on the bed.

"If you won't explain to me what these are..." Nanami picks up the buttplug, shoving it in your mouth before pushing you to lay on your back. He pulls your legs up, slender fingers hooking themselves onto your panties, pulling them down. He brings your underwear to his nose and he closes his eyes, unshamedly breathing in your scent as he looks down on you.

He pulls the buttplug out of your mouth, pressing it against your hole, teasing you. You bite your lip in anticipation, closing your eyes as you feel the plug slowly enter your ass.

"Sit up." You follow his command, pulling your legs back to sit on your heels. He takes the cat ears, putting them on you before taking the collar in his hands. "Why'd you buy this one specifically? Hmm? Kitten?" He asks, padding his thumb over your lower lip.

"Cause I belong to you." You answer, your tingue slipping out of your mouth as you sucked on his thumb, your eyes looking up at him as you hallowed your cheeks, showing him exactly how you'd suck his dick.

He growls, pushing you back down on the bed. He takes the collar, quickly putting it around your neck. He takes his time appreciating the masterpiece that is you, on his bed like this, all for him.

Slowly, he slips your dress off of you, skilfully unhooking your bra with one hand as he peppers sweet kisses all over your neck and chest, slowly traveling them down your breasts. He plays with your nipples with his tongue as his fingers twist and tug at your other one.

His tongue laps up your hardened nipples, taking them in between his terth before sucking red and purple splotches all over your soft skin. Slowly he gets up, pulling you along with him. He sits back on the bed and pushes you down onto the floor where you kneel obediently for him.

Nanami unbuckles his belt, taking it off of the hoops of his pants. He takes your hands, placing them on your back and using the belt to keep them there. He looks at you with such lust-filled eyes, his thumb playing with your lower lip.

"Put that mouth to good use, kitten." He says, leaning back as he lets you do what he asked. You look down at his pants, still buttoned and zipped up, however on the side you could see just how hard he currently is.

You lick on your lips, swallowing as you bite on his pants, undoing the button of his pants. You tug on it, pushing the button back with your tongue to take it out of the hole. You then continue to bite the zipper, your nose poking on his pelvis as you pull the zipper downwards.

You didn't want to wait any longer, you buried your face on the area where the zipper exposed your husband's boxer briefs, inhaking his musky sent as you lapped your tongue on his clothed and erected cock.

"Mmmmm so impatient I see. You want daddy's cock that bad, hmmm?" He teases, his voice so low you feel your cunt clench around your slick and nothing else. You nod your head, looking up at him with meedy eyes.

"Mmmff-fuck, okay kitten. I'll give you your reward." He takes his cock out of his underwear, his tip an angry red. You watch as he strokes his member a few times before pulling your head closer to him. You stick out your tongue, starting from the base, you like the underside of his cock, as you reach his tip you wrap your lips around it and start taking as much of his length as you can. Your fingers begin to tingle, wanting nothing more than to fondle and play with his balls at this very moment but the belt keeping your hands restrained is preventing you from doing so.

"Oh yeah baby, oh yeah... Just like that... Taking daddy's cock like the good little cockslut you are..." Nanami growls, tangling his slender fingers through your hair, tugging on it as you hear him suck in a breath.

As soon as you feel his tip press the back of your neck, you shake your head and get on your knees, pushing yourself even lower, making it your goal to reach his pubic hair with your lips. Nanami moans loudly as his cock pushes through the walls of your throat, feeling as you swallow around him. Once you feel you've taken his entire length inside your mouth, you pull away, gasping for air.

Once your lungs stop feeling like they're burning, you take him in his mouth once again, hallowing your cheeks as you bob your head up and down. Nanami throws his head back, moaning loudly as you feel him start to buck his hips upward. You push yourself lower like before a few times, when you swallow around him this time, he bucks his hips up and pulls your head down, creaming inside your throat and mouth.

You waste no time in swallowing his load. He pulls out of you and parts your mouth open, checking and then smiling to see it empty. "Such a good kitten. Love daddy's cum so much? I don't see a single drop in your mouth." He chuckles, pulling you up and throwing you on your stomach. He pulls your hips up, slapping on your ass, his eyes watching the slap causes a ripple. He slaps your ass again, and again, and again and doesn't stop until both your cheeks are a fiery red color and tears are running down your face.

"Does it hurt kitten?" He asks, rubbing a hand on your swollen bum. You shake your head, looking at him through your side. "Then why are you crying?" He sounds as if he were genuinely concerned.

"It feels too good," You sob, "Daddy."

Nanami smiles, manhandling you to flip you around. His gold plated name on your neck glistens under the red light. He parts your legs forcefully, watching as your cunt oozes out greedy amounts of slick.

Nanami lowers his face in between your thighs, his eyes trained on you as he dips his tongue in between your wet folds. You moan loudly at the feeling of his hot tongue finally against your needy cunt. You roll your hips impatiently, causing Nanami to pull away and slap your cunt.

"So impatient, kitty. Good kittens wait for their daddies to finish their meal. Now stop moving and let me have my dinner." He goes back to your cunt, lewd slurping noises fill the room along with your loud moans and mewls.

Nanami pushes his tongue in between your walls, teeth grazing against your clit, taking you by surprise. Your walls clench around his tongue, squeezing it as he furrows his brows at your orgasm.

He pulls away, scowl evident on his face as he pulls his underwear and pants down. "You came without my permission, kitty." He begins working with the buttons of his shirt, undoing them. "And you know what happens to bad kitties right?" He lines his cock against your hole, hands on each of your thighs. "Tell me, what happens to bad kitties?"

"They don't get to cum." You answer, moaning loudly at the feeling of his member entering your wet and greedy cavern. You've been married with and have been getting fucked by this man for years, and yet your tiny cunt still couldn't get used to his size.

Everytime the two of you fuck, he always stretches you open and has you feeling so full. And your little cunny always squeezes around him, making him feel every inch of your walls.

He pushes his entire length inside you, his pelvis pressing against the back of your thighs. He thrusts inside you slowly a few times to get you at least a little bit more stretched out before his pace increases and the bed is creaking.

Nanami's hands slowly run up from your stomach to your tits, playing and fondling with them before his left one retreats back to your thigh while the other creeps towards your neck. He runs a few fingers over his name before his eyes look at you- your expression.

Your eyes are glassy and your face is flushed, you have a shit eating grin across your face with your tongue lolling out of your mouth. "I feel that good, kitty?" He asks, his thrusts becoming slower but much deeper. You nod your head, unable to use proper words.

"Use your tonge, kitty. Come on. Answer daddy. Do I feel that good?" All the comes out are mashed up words and slurs, making Nanami laugh loudly. He thrusts deep inside you, feeling your walls clench around him.

"I'm fucking you so dumb right now aren't I?" He asks, frowning when you don't reply. He slaps your clit and it takes every single atom in your body for you to not cum right then and there.

"Answer me. I'm fucking you so dumb right now, aren't I?" He growls, his balls slapping against your ass, creating lewd noises. You nod your head and your response encourages him, he slaps your clit just a few more times before he's reaching his own orgasm.

"Don't you fucking cum." He creams inside you, your toes curling as you try your best not to cum. He pulls out, the satisfaction leaving your body along with him.

He watches his cum drip out of you, his fingers teasing your folds, dipping into his white release, pressing his fingers inside your mouth. You suck on his fingers, licking them clean.

He pulls out his fingers and presses his lips on yours, his tongue pressing against yours, tasting himself. He hums in satisfaction, nodding his head. "Okay, you've been a good kitty. I'll let you cum under one condition." He pushes himself inside you once again, "You cum together with me."

His thrusts this time are a bit harder, much more maddening. He rolls his hips as he thrusts deep inside you, his head pressing you g-spot again and again as you cry out how good he makes you feel.

He leans his body towards you, his hips snapping as he presses his lips on your neck. "Who do you belong to?" He grumbles, licking your jaw. "Daddy..." You moan out, closing your eyes as you feel your orgasm slowly creep up to you.

"Mmmm-mmmm. That's not my name. Since I'm fucking you so dumb right now, I'll give you a little clue. The answer is what's written on your neck." He mumbles, hips never ceasing.

"Mmff- Nanami!" You moan loudly, your orgasm already so close to you. "That's it!" Nanami roars loudly, pushing away from you as he slaps your clit, "Who do you belong to?"

"Nanami!"

"Who?"

"Fuck, Nanami!"

You clench around him milking him as he rolls his hips while insde you, helping you ride out your rogasm. You press your head against the soft pillows, his name coming into view as he cums inside you once more, painting your walls white.

The two of you stay silent for a moment, your heavy breathing the only thing that can be heard. Slowly, Nanami pulls out of you making you whimper, the overstimulation causing your body to become more sensitive than you wanted it to be.

"Shhh, shhh... It's okay baby, I got you..." Nanami coos, skillfully undoing the belt from behind you, pulling the restraints away from your hands. You pull your hands from behind you, immediately pulling Nanami closer, breathing in his scent.

Nanami presses soft kisses all over your face as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. He carries you in his arms, walking over to the bathroom where he has already prepared a bath with your favorite bathbomb.

He sets you down on the water, carefully taking off your catears and your choker. "Okay baby, I'll take off the plug now okay?" You nod, wrapping your hands around him as you hiss as the plug is slowly being taken out of you. He continues peppering kisses all over you as he washes you hair and face, he doesn't stop even as he's pulling you out of the tub and walking you back to your bed.

He walks away towards the closet, coming back with the comfortable panties, sweats and one of his shirts. He helps you get dressed, drying off your hair and combing it soft as he constantly kisses you, whispering praises as he does so.

Once he finishes, he sets you down on the bed and he leaves to wash up himself. When he comes back, he joins you on the bed, pulling you into his arms as he presses one last kiss on your forehead.

"I love you baby." You mumble out.

"I love you too."

"I love you more."

Nanami tightens his arms around you, burying his nose on your hair, "I love you most."

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#eat up babes #nanami kento #nanami headcanons #nanami smut #nanami thirst #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami x reader #jjk smut #jjk thirsts #jjk brainrot #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen nanami

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oneoftheprettynerds · 4 years

Text

Just My Type: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 2 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Darkside

Main Masterlist

A/N: This chapter is 2K words more than the last chapter and I’ve second guessed every single line in this one. This story is getting a lot of traction guys and I’m equal parts happy and scared. Thank you for the nice comments, they do encourage me. Also I’m just ranting feel free to skip this note haha. Your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Also you can dm if you want to be friends, God knows I need those. Hopefully, this chap was worth the wait. Also, I made a poster for this on the main masterlist so check that out, it might be foreshadowing dome plot.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 2: Just My Type

It had almost been a week since the incident and you had barely gotten a wink of sleep. When you drove back to your house that night, Steve surprisingly didn’t argue as you had expected. After that friend of his whispered something in his ears, you only assumed he was needed elsewhere and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. They escorted you to your car and Steve thanked you with a strained smile, words genuine but eyes calculating. You didn’t even wonder what went inside his head. You were thankful for the peace and quiet of your own car, content to just get out of the area and into your humble abode.

After you put the already asleep Grace to bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of her room. You just sat on the floor beside the bed, hand intertwined with hers as you rested your head beside her tummy on the mattress.

Your adrenaline wore off and your limbs ached as your thoughts finally settled into place, the gravity of the catastrophe a few hours prior hitting you. Tears made their way down your cheeks as you realized that you both could have very well died tonight.

One bullet could have sealed each of your lives and you were basically defenseless had Steve not saved you against the creeping assaulter. You couldn’t commend yourself for even defending yourself against one attacker, the guilt of killing someone harboring in your tired head. Your quiet whimpers eventually wore you out, while Grace’s shallow breaths lulled you to sleep.

You didn’t manage to sleep for long though, every time your eyes closed, horrific images flashed in your mind. A blood curdling scream here, heaps of dead bodies there, with distant exploding sounds all around. You could see men clad in black holding guns to Grace’s head and whensoever you woke up, you just wondered how much more creative your mind could get, making these visuals so realistic.

When 8 AM rolled in, you didn’t wake Grace up even though it was Monday and you had work. You got up, changed into a long tee after a shower and called your office and then her daycare. You knew you would have a hard time going back to your normal life, to become trusting enough to leave her alone.

Your assumption about yourself was right. You took almost the entire week off, which your boss generously allowed you to after hearing your traumatic experience, which soon made the city news headlines. All your colleagues checked on you, almost once in the five day break you took, and sweetly enough offered to bring you anything you needed.

It was kind of them, but none of them could bring you what your heart genuinely craved: peace and assurance that you and Grace would be safe.

Even though Saturdays were off, you did go to work to see what you missed and where to start on again. You went in because you knew that the random spurt of resolution you got in the bathroom to collect your life, wouldn’t last.

To ease back into your normal life, you gathered your guts, called a babysitter and left home. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave Grace at the daycare just yet. One of your good friends offered to come in to the office and help you, even on the weekend and you were quite grateful to him.

When you both decided to take lunch in the nearby dining place, you both got to talking, the conversation obviously originating from ‘How have you been?’ and ‘Is Grace okay?’. You reminisced about how you used a photobooth to hide, grotesquely and uncomfortably chuckling when you remembered Sarah calling you her mom and how her dad saved you all.

You deliberately left the part where you killed someone and Steve shot someone too. You hadn’t come to terms with it yet and you stiffly restricted your mind whenever it tried to go down that lane.

He sensed how the conversation was becoming tense and distressing for you and briskly redirected the topic.

“I hope the dad was hot though?” He wiggled his eyes creepily and you snorted at his vulgarity, light for the first time in days.

“He was easy on the eyes; I will admit that.” You played along, recalling your girlfriends and how you used to ogle people.

“Don’t be a homewrecker though, I don’t support cheating.” He said nonchalantly, checking his phone as a notification bell rang off.

“He’s a widower.”

His eyes snapped up and met yours as his head tilted in confusion. “That’s a strange fact to know about someone you met for a few minutes.”

Steve’s even stranger comment about his dead wife popped in your mind and before you could stop yourself, you blurted that out as well.

“He even said and I quote, ‘She deserved what she got.’” He put his phone down, weirdly amused.

“Ooh Creepy! Do you think he is one of those husbands who kill their wives and bury them in the backyard? The podcasts always say that the psychopaths are visually handsome and charming. And his statement was quite vague and spooky.” He continued munching, and you felt that now Aiden was really paying attention unlike before.

“Steve did have a gun while searching for Sarah, come to think of it.” You drank your tea and awaited his response. What you did not expect was his eyes to widen and worry to cloud his features.

“Um Widower Steve with a toddler Sarah? At the place where The Vices attacked?” He mumbled, grabbing his phone and doing God knows what on it. Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could ask him what was up with his antics, he resumed.

“This is a long shot but I really hope your Steve didn’t look like this.” He positioned the phone in your vision, and you could already tell it was Steve by the sapphire blue of his eyes piercing through the screen into your soul. The picture was a month or two old, his hair was much longer when you met him than in the photo.

“This is him.” Your eyes met Aiden’s and worry visibly took over his features as his forehead creased and jaw tense.

He looked around the restaurant, finding it empty in the afternoon. He leaned and whispered, “This Steve of yours is dangerous.”

You interrupted Aiden, even though you already knew Steve was, the sight of his armed men still fresh in your head, and inquired, “Why do you say so?”

“It’s just like the fictional stories we hear from our parents, except here, in this city of ours, every myth holds true. There are really powerful men, untouchable by law, who reign the city silently and live luxuriously. Every shady, under the table deal you’ve heard of, transpires. Illegal trades, fraud schemes and bounty hunters are not fictional, they exist here. These men kill whatever hinders them and trust me, you don’t want to be the deer caught in their Jaguar’s headlights.”

Ice froze in your veins again, resembling the fear you felt that night but now because of your deemed ‘savior’. You convinced yourself that you had not wronged him in any way, instead had saved his daughter’s life.

“Are you in contact with him? If you are, distance yourself cleverly, don't block him immediately.”

“No, we just parted ways near my car, he thanked me for Sarah and was called away. It’s almost been a week and he hasn’t reached out if that’s what you mean. We didn’t exchange contacts and I don’t think I even told him my full name.” You explained yourself as if you were on the witness stand in court, trying to convince yourself more than Aiden.

“Pray that he doesn’t remember you more than that, if at all. I’m being totally honest here in telling you this, I’m genuinely worried for you and Grace. You are smart but he is powerful. He has unimaginable resources and if you become more than a speck of dust on his windshield, you are screwed. There is no exaggeration here.” You took his words to your heart and swore to be careful, if not for yourself then for Grace.

The rest of the day went by and you found yourself dwelling on and worrying about Aiden’s words. At least he put it out there as it was. Heeding his advice, you did google Steve on your phone, finally finding him in the topmost news headline when you added ‘Buck’ in the search bar as well.

‘With 38 lawsuits pending against businessman Steve Rogers, the filers have lost all hope in prosecuting him. All cases are being drawn out for indefinite periods of time by the Chief Justice Bruce……’

Aiden was right.

Businessmen was code for illegal mob heads. Cases being stretched on meant he was, in fact, invincible, at least to the common man’s fists.

You flickered through several titles, each one more surprising than the last. He was believed to be involved in the carnival attack, alleged for three hit and run cases that he didn’t lose but the witnesses swore they saw him driving and was also rumored to have brought in quintals of drugs just last week, but the packets just evaporated into thin air and there was no proof of their existence in the first place even on incessant searching.

Every crime of his made you shudder and you mentally thanked Aiden for pulling you out of your oblivion. Your mind raced and heart palpated and you cursed yourself for being so drastically unaware even after living here for almost four years. Technically speaking, Steve and you were even, him saving your life and you saving his daughter’s. No logical reason came to your mind for him contacting you ever.

You wished as Aiden said and assured yourself that your paths would never cross again, Steve not having reached out in a week, so hopefully never again.

That thought went out the window when you reached home to find a box awaiting you. Hannah, the babysitter you had called, informed you it came around 5 in the evening and was exclusively to be opened by you today.

Your mind raced as you paid the babysitter, your hands sweaty as you tried not to think about the gift and its sender. There was an apparently clear answer to who mailed it but you refused to accept that, courtesy of Aiden.

The box was of the height of Grace, it was black with red hearts painted across it; some red roses also sparingly adorned it. You opened the lid and found tons of red tissues and a multi-flower bouquet adorned with mostly red roses and a few purple and pink flowers.

Because of your frequent gardening in your backyard, you knew all the flowers’ meanings. To sum it all up, red flowers, especially roses were used for courting someone. Pink meant admiration, purple for beauty and you knew the ‘violet’ flowers were for loyalty.

As your nerves increased tenfold, you willed yourself to get it over with and empty out the box first, ignoring the little card in your bouquet, saving the ‘best’ for last. You find a mini bouquet inside but unlike yours, it had chocolates of every kind. You did read its card and cringed when it was for Grace, bothered not by the deed but by the doer.

Further inside were some animal plushies, face masks, perfumes, scented body lotions and shampoos. Your head hurt thinking about the ‘single mother care package’ delivered to you by someone you refused to acknowledge.

As Grace sat in her playpen occupied, you dared to pick your card and read its message, your heart beating unrealistically fast for someone who refused to accept the cruciality of her situation.

I can’t thank you enough in this lifetime for saving my little princess. The gift of your help is more than anything money could ever buy for me. Please accept this invitation of mine for dinner tomorrow night, 7PM at La Bonne Nuit, as a symbol of my sincere gratitude for everything you’ve done. I’ll gets the kids covered and pick you up, you just be ready and look as amazing you always do. Sincerely, Steve Rogers

You stilled as you read it over and over again.

An invitation, your ass. Even in writing his authority portrayed, there was no question and hope for you coming, he just stated that you’d come. Looking pretty as always? You just met him once, in the middle of a calamity, covered in dirt and blood.

All the red roses and gifts screamed his romantic interest but you illusioned yourself into thinking they meant gratitude. You wouldn’t be able to digest it all otherwise.

Knowing what you knew now about Steve, you understood there was no denying the dinner tomorrow. You had to get out of his clutches and distance yourself, but as Aiden had so rightfully said, cleverly.

That night you laid in bed mulling over your next course of actions. You had called the gift shop to return the unwarranted presents you received but they said it was non refundable and anonymous to trace. You bitterly snorted in their face, they put a card with Steve’s name on it for heaven’s sake!

You didn’t flinch even when you realized you never gave Steve your address, neither for mailing stuff nor for picking you up. There was no number given to call him and thank or to call him and deny. The bastard had planned it all out, and you felt like you were driving in a one way lane, going deeper into the tunnel. Somewhere among your all-relentless fretting, you managed to finally sleep.

When the doorbell rang, your eyebrows furrowed. It was just 6 PM and you weren’t expecting anybody else except for Steve. You had already begun getting ready, having developed a habit of keeping an extra margin of time now having a toddler. You still had to assemble Grace’s essential backpack, fill it with her meds and bottles.

While still putting on your diamond earring, you made your way to the door, unlocking it to find a redhead grinning at you. Before you could interact with her, a small body clung to your legs and you looked down to find the azure eyed kid that put you in this mess, Sarah, smiling up at you.

“Mama! You look pwetty!” She looked up in awe and now aware that she didn’t have a mother, you were even more so coerced into accepting this title rather than telling the kid that 'you are semi orphaned'.

“I’m Wanda, Sarah’s nanny. Mr. Rogers told me to pick her friend, Grace, up for the night?” So, this was what Steve meant. Bringing Sarah was proof enough of her legitimacy, but behind her you saw ‘Buck’ salute you from the driver’s seat of the black car. One of these days, you needed to learn his real name.

You invited Wanda inside and Sarah ran to Grace immediately, grabbing and whining while asking Grace to give her some popcorn she was munching on, her fist generously full.

In your open plan kitchen, you grabbed two plastic bowls, filled them with each with the tub of popcorn that sat in the microwave and handed each toddler one, fortunately quietening Sarah. Sarah obeyed Grace, in first thanking you, their ‘mama’ and then following her to her open playpen.

You faced Wanda again who sat on a barstool and kept on beaming. If your annoyance at her amusement showed, she sure didn’t let it falter the smile.

“Mr. Rogers told me you’d worry about your daughter, but I assure you she’d be in more than capable hands.” All you could focus on was how self-reassured she was. “I’ve served him for almost two years, the last family I served, I was there for 8 years and before them, I was employed for 3. I know the general bedtime and snacks, all I need from you is information about her allergies.”

You nodded and told her about Grace, her meds and what all you packed. When you got to know that her family owned the daycare Grace went to, you were finally somewhat convinced. After seeing them off, it was about fifteen minutes later, that the devil disguised in Prada showed up at your door.

You grabbed your purse and your keys. Wiping your sweaty palms on your dress, you opened the door. Steve stood there, a smirk lodging on his handsome face. His blue, three-piece suit perfectly paired with his cerulean eyes was impressive to say the least.

He was dressed to kill, and it appeared as if you were his first victim.

As your eyes took him in from top to bottom, his did the same lazily, taking their time, resting at certain places for longer period than others.

“You look stunning.”

You knew you did. You wore one of your more expensive dresses when you found out La Bonne Nuit to be one of the few seven-star hotels in the country. In hindsight, if you’d have dressed worse, maybe he’d have left you alone.

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?” He offered you his hand and you obliged with your palm in his. Your other hand pulled the doorknob while you stepped out, all alarms already set-in place. He waited while you locked and put the keys in and when you were done, with a soft kiss along your knuckles, he pulled you along.

The act surprised you, your stomach turning and your gut wrenching and you wondered if you’d be able to process the food after all, with your upset digestive system.

Like a proper gentleman, he opened the door for you and when you settled, he took his position at the driver’s seat. The silence was painful for you, your overthinking finally filling ideas in your head that you avoided contemplating about all day, focusing on Grace.

He was relaxed though; his humming was proof enough.

Mid way through, your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a hand housed itself on your knee. You glanced to find Steve’s palm slightly rubbing your knee. If it was meant to be assuring, you certainly didn’t feel like it.

You frowned and looked up to Steve who still had the arrogant smirk on his face, eyes straight ahead on the road, giving no indication of his inappropriate touching.

You wanted to swat his hand away but a brainwave dashed through your head and a disturbing thought made you halt, that whether he carried guns to restaurants as well, since carnivals were no big deal.

You ignored his hand and continued looking outside, pretending to ignore it as well as he did. Your scowl was a huge giveaway though.

You didn’t know that, but when your eyes found their way out, his finally rested on your face, the smirk growing even more.

Thankfully, apart from the incongruous touching, the dinner went okay-ish. The food and wine were impeccable, perfect even, the restaurant on the hotel’s top floors was so picturesque. You tried to savor your one-time experience there, knowing you’d no way be able to come back there.

Well, you tried to relish as much as you could while your mind still sat there, wary of the human in front of you. If you’d ignore your journey here, Steve was nothing short of a true gentleman, often making you wonder if you had imagined his hand on you.

This ‘friendly’ date you were having was probably one of the best you have had, he had left no expenses. He appeared to be interested in your work, about your childhood and about Grace’s but you swiftly avoided his questions about her father. He was growing a tad bit too comfortable for your liking and you still refused to entertain the idea that this was a ‘date’ date.

When you were finally onto dessert, the last course of your meal, your table was shadowed by the broad frame of a brunette and his date. He clapped Steve’s shoulder and Steve rose to hug him, you awkwardly smiled.

“It’s been far too long since you’ve been here, Cap. Why don’t you and your gorgeous date stop by my penthouse for a bit? We could finally go over the papers you sent me, in person?” He winked, they discussed something more and then went away, his date bowing and trailing after him as well.

Steve claimed his seat again, and finally told you about the interrupter. “That was my good friend, Tony Stark, always in a hurry. I’ll introduce you to him when we meet him later.”

“I think I’ll be heading home; you need not worry about my introduction, I hardly think we’ll ever run into each other again.” His eyes narrowed and you clarified, “Me and Mr. Stark, I meant.”

That’s good, don’t associate yourself with more of his kind.

“He was so kind in inviting you though, it would be rude to refuse.”

“It’s already late, Steve. And I’ve never left Grace alone for a night yet. What if she’s antsy? What if she is bothered? What if she feels unsafe? She's only used to very few people, and after last week, I-” You had started the sentence hoping to use Grace as an excuse but every word of yours succeeded in making you more apprehensive.

The carnival night flashed in your mind, along with the nightmares and you started panicking even more. Your hands clammy, your dessert spoon fell in your lap as sought your phone in your purse, hoping to call Wanda for an update. You felt like a terrible mother, who left her child with a stranger, only a week after she suffered trauma, just to go on a date with a mobster.

Steve reached across the table and grabbed your fidgety hands and as you wriggled to get your hands free, he softly called your name. Voice stern but vocals gentle. Your blurry eyes snapped to meet his while he guided you to breathe deeply, in and out.

His firm hold convinced you to listen to him, you’d never free yourself of them otherwise.

When you had calmed a bit, he withdrew his hands and fetched his phone. Your thoughts slowed down, and you wondered if anyone here was judging you. Your little scene, mercifully, went unnoticed by the other affluent people dining here.

Steve handed you his phone where four colored frames rested, the screen showing you Grace and Sarah cuddled in a frilly, pink four poster where Wanda sat too, her lips moving.

The feed was live and the screen muted, both the toddlers’ eyes fluttering close slowly, on the bridge of sleep.

You handed the phone back to Steve and drank your water while he rubbed circles on the back of one of your hands. You never freaked out like you did right now, always collected and never giving into anxiety. What had happened to you?

Well, In your defense, you had never experienced a disaster either.

“The kids are safe; I’m never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

Your mind did catch the plural in his statement but you promised yourself you would not let it get that far and continued drinking your water, emptying the entire glass.

“The HD image you just saw was by cameras Tony recently developed. His technology is amazing, I’ll take you to his lab sometime.” You appreciated his attempt to redirect the topic but you also focused on how tech-savvy his friends were as well.

You hummed and agreed, trying to be ambiguous with your answer.

When you finished your dessert, you hoped he’d forget about his ‘friend’ Tony but to no avail.

“His penthouse is two floors above. He owns this hotel as well in case you didn’t notice.” He led you to the elevator as you recalled the Starks Group logo you saw earlier sometime.

Some AI named Jarvis opened the elevator doors for you in the living room of Tony’s penthouse. It was even more magnificent than the restaurant earlier, the place illuminated by several hues of different colours. Steve chuckled and strung you along, introducing you to a ginger-head named Pepper, who was Tony’s date earlier and went to search for his acquaintance.

She offered you wine but you politely declined, opting for water instead. She brought your glass to you from the extravagant kitchen and you both sat on the barstool there instead of the living room. Too anxious to say the wrong thing, you stayed quiet until her voice filled the deafening silence.

“So, Steve almost never brings dates around. You two serious?” She questioned, leaning towards you, waiting for some gossip, no doubt.

“Oh no! We aren’t dating. He just invited me for a friendly dinner. We merely met the other week.” You deliberately left out the part where there was bombing by crime families and attack on the common man.

“Honey, in the mob life, you don’t just introduce random people to the fam.”

Oh, she wasn’t being shy about the whole mob ordeal. It seemed weird to hear it from her, since you and Steve hadn’t used the word yet. Maybe he figured you already knew considering the circumstances you met in or how famous he was.

“We really aren’t romantically involved. This dinner was just a gesture of gratitude if I’m being truthful.”

She chuckled, as if you were a kid making stories and quizzed, “Gratitude for what?”

You trapped yourself into that one. You didn’t know how to answer her and your brain downright blanked. Surprisingly,, Steve came to your rescue and two voices interposed your conversation.

Steve called your name and as you turned to the men, he continued, “She’s the one who saved Sarah the other night. You know the story, Wilson probably got it printed.”

“Impressive, really. Hey, I’m Tony and I see you’ve already met Pepper, my fiancée.” He shook your hand and kissed your knuckles, much like Steve did earlier in the day. You bowed, smiled and mumbled a ‘nice to meet you as well’. They escorted you to the elevator and Tony continued.

“Well, it’s not everyday Steve brings brave and extraordinarily attractive women around. Welcome to the family, sweetie. She’s a keeper, Cap.” He winked while saying the last sentence and before you could correct him, Steve ushered you inside the elevator, bro-hugging him. As the doors closed, Pepper winked at you from behind Tony and a shudder ran through you.

Okay you had to make it clear, get on the same page.

As the elevator music filled the silence, you started, “Steve, look we aren’t-”, “I served in the army, that’s why Tony calls me Cap, short for captain.” And crudely got interrupted.

“I never wanted to get into the army, I thought people were fools to sacrifice the one life they got. But I went to make my mother’s dream a reality, I really loved her, you know? Sarah is named after her, my mother.”

His voice broke at the end and as much as you wanted to redirect onto your former topic, you couldn’t. This amiability of yours would be the death of you.

“She died alone in her bed; I was dispatched too far away to even make it back for her funeral.” He mumbled but you heard him clear as a sunny day, and he leaned back onto the wall for support while you awkwardly rubbed his shoulder to return the support he provided earlier during your mental breakdown.

He closed his eyes and gathered himself, taking deep breaths. As the elevator dinged, his eyes opened and he gave you a strained smile.

The car ride to his mansion was painfully silent, his mind too sidetracked to focus on harassing you again. With all that you went through today, you almost forgot about that.

His mansion was enormous, twenty guards stood outside and even more patrolled the lawn. He took you inside his house, the interior even more detailed and scenic than Tony’s temporary residence.

You just concentrated on swiftly getting Grace and Uber-ing back. As Steve showed you earlier, Grace and Sarah hugged and slept and it was a meticulous task to untangle their limbs without waking either of them up andnd get Grace with her back-pack. You thanked Wanda on the way out, hoping to avoid Steve but somehow he stood outside before you, leaning on his sleek black car. He opened the door for you before you could refuse the ride. You settled with Grace in the backseat itself, trying to be smart.

He just summoned one of his guards to drive and sat alongside you in the back. You didn’t let the annoyance at his clinginess show though. You just focused on Grace who drooled over your shoulder.

Hopefully, there won’t be any point of exposure to him ever again, your circles didn’t match, both social and professional. Your Venn diagrams didn’t overlap anywhere. This should be reason enough to avoid meeting ever again.

He didn’t try anything even this ride around. You doubted it was hardly because of the toddler or because of the driver. He did as he pleased, if he wanted to he could very well grope you. Luckily, he wasn't in the mood.

When you reached your dwelling, you stepped out hastily, thanking him in a whisper. You fumbled to get your keys out, but since everything you held slowed you down, he caught up with you without even trying.

He took and held Grace’s bag while you drew the keys out, Grace still on your hip. He handed you the bag back, “So this is it, I guess?”

“Yeah, tonight was a total delight. Thanks for the dinner and everything, really.” You put up your best façade, hoping to convince him.

“It was, thanks to you. The company matters the most.”

You awkwardly chuckled and you sensed him leaning in, his eyes flickering shut. Your eyes closed as you turned your head to avoid him, so that his lips would peck your cheek.

They never came.

Your eyes opened to find his and he chuckled, leaning in once again swiftly, catching you off guard this time. He didn’t meet your lips though, he kissed the corner of your mouth, lips overlapping for a fraction of skin.

“In due time, baby.” He stepped back and strolled to his car leisurely, content in his own world.

You opened your door and slammed it shut, the peck feeling wrong on so many levels. It felt more sensual than a lover’s kiss, leaving room for intimacy and longing.

Your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers an hour, the most absurd but nauseatingly true being, this was a date and it was not your last encounter.

Steve smirked outside in his car, the dinner an absolute success in his opinion. Tonight just made him feel that you both were more than compatible for each other. You needing him during your mental breakdown, him relaxing under your shy touch, Tony’s approval, not that important though, and your anxiety for Grace was the best part, because he, more often than he’d like to admit, fussed about Sarah the same way, agonizing and fretting her well being.

A text lit up his black screen and his grin widened even more if possible.

‘The Stark cameras are up and working, Sir.’

828 notes · View notes

theepisceswriter · 3 years

Text

CRYING OVER SPILLED MILK — TOJI FUSHIGURO *insert cute edited picture of Toji here that I don’t have*

Synopsis: After a long stressful day of work, you come home to a bratty Toji just begging to get punished by you.

A/N: To the bestie that sent me that request for more of Sub!Toji with a sugar momma, you really messed up because I don’t think I’ve gotten to work on a request faster than yours and I’m positive this isn’t the end of this saga. also shoutout to @killerbananas for helping me with the title !

TW: Whew..... first off not proofread so probably a bunch of typos, glimpses of that sugar mommy lifestyle, sub!Toji, Dom!Reader, Fem!reader, light bondage, overstimulation, teasing, mommy kink, use of ‘sweet baby boy’ as a nickname, a whole lot of mature things, but I think those are the main warnings, 18 plus, MINORS DNI or I’ll eat your ankles like corn on the cob

WC: 3.7k, told you I got carried away !

“Toji!”

Your quavering voice echoed through the white marbling interior of the home as soon as you made your way through the door, shoulders and head rolling to get every nook and cranny out your neck that sitting at a desk from hours on end caused. You weren’t expecting to stay behind for as long as you did today, the decision of overtime being a unanimous vote between your boss and last minute cancelling coworker, so you couldn’t say no even if you wanted to. No matter how much you craved the tight embrace and warm fanning of breath between the valley of your breast accompanied with a headful of raven spikes that peaked out in wild directions from your younger companion.

Your home lacked the disarray of toys on the floor, the constant faint melodies of Cocomelon ringing through hallways, or the sickly sweet smell that often wavered through the air whenever kids frequented an area. Not to mention the lack of jewelry on the fourth finger of your left hand not signifying that you were single, but a silent way of letting those around you know that whatever situation you had at home wasn’t stable enough for a ring. Most women around your age were married to the successful men they worked alongside expecting their 2nd child despite the fact that their 1st born can barely talk, but you were different.

You had Toji to come home to and that was good enough for now.

The sound of your call out to him fell on deaf ears. Maybe the exhaustion was too heavy in your voice making your tone quieter than usual or else he would’ve been on you the moment you walked through the front door; eager to take your purse and keys away from you like the true gentleman he was underneath, but with an ulterior motive just like any man just so he could get you to the bedroom and please you quicker at his pace.

“My sweet boy,” You called out in an exclaimed voice you knew would have him perking up and at your attention even if he was in a completely different room with his headphones turned up to the max, just the soundwaves from the nickname alone conditioning him to be at your beck and call whenever you wanted him too. And just like how you had predicted the soft pattering of feet slowly came into your sound range and it wasn’t long until he was a couple feet away from you leaned against the walkway connecting the corridor to the front door, a scowl on his scarred lips and eyes narrowed with an expression that you couldn’t quite read because of the tufts of black hair that fell over the front of his face.

You stood there for a moment expecting him to take away the contents of your hands like he normally did, but the lack of movement and verbalization from him left you stuck yourself with confusion.

“Anyways,” you attempted to move on as you made your way to the common area with all of your belongings to put them up yourself, “Today was the most exhausting day I’ve had in a long time. None of my favorite coworkers were there, so I was stuck with a group of stuck up assholes who thought anything that wasn’t work related was unprofessional to talk about. And then I got stuck with the rest of somebody else’s shift because they hate me; that has to be the only explanation, right?”

A word vomit escaped your lips the moment they opened. The freedom of finally being able to talk about your terrible experience lifting half of the weight off of your shoulders and the other half disintegrating once you got your daily reassurance from Toji, but all you got were scoffs and mumbles of whatevers that had your hands going to your hips in a chastising position like that of a mother.

“Do you have something to say?”

“Like you’d even have time to stand there and listen to it, anyway, y/n.” He scoffs with the roll of his eyes, arms crossing over his chest and eyes finally meeting yours when he adjusts himself off the frame of the cut off to seemingly walk away.

At least that was the plan until your fingers held the fabric of his signature black t-shirt between ligaments and bone, halting him in his tracks completely. Two silent strides from your heels being off of your feet granting you the element of surprise with this move.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Moving from the back of his neck your fingers travel to grasp his shoulders and use the momentum of your arm swinging to turn him around to face you with ease, the words that leave your lips a mix of a purr and growl.

The stiffening of his already hard muscles underneath your touch is an indicator that he knew what was going to come from his little attitude fit and from the soft blush that grazed his features, it’s as if he were expecting it; provoking this reaction out of you on purpose. Needy for your attention to the point where he’d upset you even further on a day you came home with an already sour mood.

What a slut, you thought in the confinements of your head.

“I’ve had the most frustrating and exhausting days at work today, the job that I work so I can spoil you like I do, and this is how you’re going to treat me? Instead of letting me take out all my anger on your cock like we’d both like?”

Suddenly your hand is dropping down to the obvious bulge that’s poking through the light grey fabric of his sweats. A sharp inhale sounding from his nose as you gently fondle the erection with your free hand. Watching the hairs on his neck stand each time you graze over the soft sack of his balls before moving back up to his shaft just to tease him like you weren’t already groping him through his pants.

Even then that’s enough to stimulate the feelings of want for you that had been in the back of his mind all day long and it’s not long before he’s bucking up into your hand the closer he gets to his orgasm.

“How cute.” You coo out as you take note of the deepened blush that has taken place over his features along with his slightly parted lips and slight tilt back of his head. And just when the bucking up of his hips became rough and sloppy you removed your hand as quick as possible with a teasing smile on your lips at the frustrated groan that left his lips.

“Bad boys don’t deserve orgasms, only sweet boys do.” You taunt, taking a hold of his hand and leading him to the bedroom.

A silence falls over the burly man and he melts right back into the submissive you have him trained as. Obeying every single one of your orders once you get in the bedroom until he’s splayed out on the bed in a starfish position with his bare erect and yearning cock pressed up against his toned stomach with precum oozing from the swollen red tip and the soft glimmer of a silver cockring at the base of his cock.

“Mommy…” He finally speaks up in a desperate whisper for the first time today, your body slowly being disregarded of clothes finally bringing him to his begging point before you’re even touching him again. The weight of his actions finally weighs heavy in his mind when he sees you practically prancing towards the bed with a rugged bundle of light pink rope in your hand.

The kind that always made him feel so pretty when it matched the lingerie he put on for you now being used against him as a tool in his punishment.

“I’m sorry, mommy. I was just too needy for you earlier and was upset when you didn’t come home at the time you usually do.” His apologies fall on deaf ears just as your calling out to him had done earlier. Your face not even reacting to his words or looking in his direction when you move to each corner of the bed to restrain his wrists to the edge of the metal railing bed. Only looking down to chastise him with a quick ‘tsk!’ of your tongue when his mouth attempted to latch on to your nipples as you reached over to secure his wrists.

“I didn’t make you act like that earlier, you did this to yourself. Mommy wanted to come home and please both her and her sweet baby boy. But now look at you,” Your hand roughly comes down to forcefully take his jaw into your hand and force him to look up at you with eyes filled with regret, “All tied up ready to be used by me.”

It’s then that your hand travels down his stomach to place a gentle tap on the swollen tip of his cock. Going as far to even trail your finger around it eliciting groans from the pit of his stomach knowing you were going to pull away as soon as he got close to that sweet release again. Quiet gasps being the only thing that left his lips, the squirming of his hips underneath you a silent way of showing how much he wanted you.

“You look so pretty all tied up for me like this, baby.” Each word that left your lips sent a wave of pleasure straight to his dick and you could see the way it twitched from the corner of your eye as you moved your focus down to his chest deciding he wasn’t worthy of the kiss you were going to give to him. With pinched fingers your hands moved to the cherry red bud that was his nipple. Fondling the oversensitive bud on his plump chest warranting his whole torso to rumble with the pained groans of pleasure that escaped from him.

“Please,” A voice that you wouldn’t expect to come from someone his size, similar to that of a begging child’s, sounded from him with ease when you were the one delivering the pleasure, “Please give me more.”

A smirk made its way on your lips before you leaned down to capture the bud between your plush lips. Your tongue encircling the sensitive flesh to soothe the pain your pinching must’ve caused him. Only pulling away with a trail of spit following as you moved on to give the next nipple the same treatment. And if it weren’t for the tight cockring at the base of his balls, something as simple as this would’ve had him coming undone without you even having to touch his cock. But instead he was forced to deal with the painful ache of his erect straining against the cold metal.

Two quick swift movements and your mouth was pulling away from his chest against his wishes, whimpers leaving his lips, but quickly being shushed once he realized you were positioning yourself right over his cock.

“I still haven’t gotten my stress relief for the day,” Grabbing on to his thick shaft you lined up his swollen tip with your entrance, teasingly dragging it along your wet slit up to your clit before you were stuffing it inside of you without warning, choked moans leaving the both of you from the long awaited pleasure.

“So fucking big you can barely fit inside of me.” But still you lowered your hips down on him until you were at his hilt. Taking a moment to adjust to his girth and size before your hips swirled at an achingly slow pace in a sloppy figure 8 motion. The feeling of your clit rubbing up against his hardened lower abdomen making you damn near see stars.

“Y-You feel so good around me, mommy. So fucking good.” Greed got the best of the needy sub, his hips attempting to buck up into you to change the slow pace you had set, but that just prompted you to stop the movement of your hips altogether. Stopping to look down at his flustered face and pressing your hands down on his to limit his mobility.

“What a needy slut my sweet baby boy is,” You sucked in through teeth when he delivered a quick snap of his hips up into you. Your nails dragged along his chest hard enough to leave pink markings on it, but not rough enough to make him bleed. “If you weren’t such a brat earlier then maybe I would’ve been letting you fuck me right now as we speak,” your hips resumed their former pace and pattern of movement, “But you’re not.” You taunted him in a teasing voice, watching as his face scrunched up in both pain from the limitations his cockring put on him, but also pleasure as you indulged him in the warmth of your cunt wrapped around his length.

“Please...I’m sorry...please just let me cum.” Toji basically cries out, whining like a poor dog.

“Not until I do.” You grab his chin forcing him to look up at you and reaching down with your free hand to grope at his plump chest. They fill your hand up in all the right ways like they were made for you to toy and mess with. “Not just once, but twice. And then maybe if I’m feeling nice I’ll be nice enough to let you cum too.”

And so it goes on like that for at least an hour, your slick pussy gripping around him and creaming so many times around him to the point where a thick ring of cum had formed at the base of his cock because of you. Your clit was swollen from the stimulation his skin gave you and almost matched the color of his darkening cock with each passing minute, the only difference being that you constantly got your relief.

Tears pooled at the edge of his eyes, glossy each time he looked up at you and silently pleading like a dog begging for food. His wrists were sore and raw from yanking against the pretty pink rope this whole session. It’s felt like forever for him, not only having to endure this session, but waiting and longing for you all day long. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please, please, please, mommy. I’m begging you! Please let me cum mommy, make me feel good too please.” His voice is barely audible and sounds more like a croak than smooth pronunciation. Already considering to finally give him that sweet release since you’ve had your release already, it was his soft desperate sniffle that brought you completely to your conclusion of freeing him.

“Mommy is going to take care of her sweet baby boy now.”

Reaching over you grabbed the ube from your bedside drawer that you always kept for situations as such and poured a fair amount on the shaft of Toji’s cock. Using the cooling sensation of the lube to take away some of his swollenness and ease him from the restraints of the cockring.

“The rope.” He brought to your attention before he took his sigh of relief, watching with widened and eager eyes as you reached over to undo the intricate knots on his wrists. Soothing the raw area with your thumb and kisses before you allowed them to drop to his side, that sigh of relief finally sounding from his lips.

He wasted no time in relishing on the fact that he wasn’t tied up and begging anymore or even paused to wipe away the flushed tears from his cheeks, but immediately wrapped his broad arm around your torso and flipped the two of you over so you were now the one below him as he towered over you.

He almost didn’t know what to do with this freedom after not having it all day long and it took a moment for him to decide, but the first thing he did was drop his face between your breasts, groping and motorboating them like a mad man. You threaded your fingers into his dark raven spikes as his mouth found your nipple and began to gently suckle on the sweet skin.

“So good.” He let out in a satisfied hum that vibrated against your nipples and sent a shiver up your spine.

“You do that so well, such a good boy for me when you’re not being a brat.” You backhandedly praise through soft gasps underneath your breath.

Dark eyes looking up at you through lashes, pupils blown wide from pleasure, and your praise making his cock leak with precum at the tip. Your grip in his hair tightened as you pulled him closer against your body, the arch of your body into him giving him perfect access to slip in between your folds with ease from the wetness that had accumulated between your thighs from multiple orgasms already.

“Your pussy feels so warm and tight around me.” He pulls away from your lipples with a loud pop and grunt like this wasn’t his fourth time of the day feeling the confines of your velvet walls. The only difference being that it was at his pace for once and not the painstakingly slow one you had been teasing him with all day long, able to pound into like he had been dreaming about all day long. The bed swaying back and forth and squeaking with each powerful thrust of his hips into you.

“Look at you, rutting up against me like a bitch in heat. So desperate and needy for me to the point where you’re crying,” A soft hand comes up to wipe away at the tears that continue to come down his face despite the release he’s getting in this moment. The taunting tone of your voice only encourages him to move faster, but he’s so backed up that all it takes is a couple of rough thrusts before warm strings of cum are shooting up inside of you. The embarrassment from cumming so fast only warranting more tears to stream down his puffy face.

“Couldn’t hold out, huh? Don’t tell me my sweet baby boy has turned into a one pump chump on me.” Your taunting has yet to stop, but from the way his cock twitches with each degradation that leaves your lips you’re not going to stop anytime soon.

“You just feel so good. Especially after not being able to cum in you all day long.” He defends himself, pulling out of you with a still swollen cock.

“How pathetic of you to have such an amazing cock that you can’t use right.” Your hand makes an impact with his already pink right cheek on his face, not harsh enough to hurt him but harsh enough to leave a pink imprint the shape of your hand there. Toji is only able to look down from embarrassment, face secretly growing more flustered as your humiliating words and actions continue.

You shift to sit up and push down on his chest so he’s now laying back, his still erect cock leveled out with your face now. Twitching in your direction from excitement still nowhere near satisfied yet.

“F-Fuck.” He breathed out verbally when your hand gripped the base of his cock, already driving him crazy and you hadn’t even given him your mouth yet. You couldn’t help but hold a cocky expression as you leaned down to circle the tip of his cock with your tongue before taking as much of him as you could fit into your mouth, enclosing your throat around him while you stroked the remainder of him with your hand.

Suckling softly around the salty skin like he had done your nipples earlier, you looked up at him through dark lashes and the sight was godly; muscles constricting with each moan that rumbled his chest, a thin sheet of sweat making his skin glisten in the dim lighting of the room, tears coating the chubs of his cheeks, and his eyes closed shut with his scarred lip tight between his sharp teeth. Not to mention the soft bucks of his hips up into your mouth forcing you to choke as he forced more of his cock down his throat until you had gentle tears falling from your eyes as well.

“So so good, mommy. You’re so good at sucking my cock, no one else does it better than you do.” The breathlessness of his voice lets you know that he’s already near the edge of his orgasm, the muscles of his stomach flexing every time you hollow out your cheeks and flick your tongue against his tip already tasting the salt of his cum.

Hazy eyes opened to peer down at you in all of your glory with his cock down your throat, one hand coming down to knead at your breasts as you worked your magic between his legs so good to the point where you had his toes curling and gripping at the silk white sheets of the bed.

“I’m going to-” The dark haired man wasn’t even able to get the rest of his sentence out before a string of ‘Mommy’s was leaving his pink lips as his stomach contracted until he was shooting a big load of backed up orgasms down your throat to the point where some of the white fluid was spilling from the sides of your mouth messily. But you didn’t stop at his orgasm, you kept going until every last drop of his cum had gone down your throat and you were positive he had come down from his orgasm.

It took his hand removing you from his cock forcefully for you to finally stop and even then it wasn’t a full force grab, his hand barely able to move due to his mind still being heavily clouded with pleasure. An override of senses crashing his system to the point where he was sure he would’ve gone into subspace if he hadn’t got you to stop sucking his cock.

“Are you okay?” You cooed out softly as you brought him into your arms so his head was resting against the soft plushness of your bests, gently stroking his hair and wiping away tears while he came down from that mind blowing orgasm.

“Mhm.” Was the only thing he managed to get out before smuggling his face against your chest completely. The two of you too tired to get up and take a shower.

“Let’s just stay like this for a while.” He let out in a soft breath.

#Spicy.#toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro fanfic #jujustu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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no-pucks-given · 4 years

Text

ADAM BOQVIST | SPILLED LOVE

Warnings: Oral (female receiving), protected sex.

Word Count: 2.7K

You’ve been friends with Adam for almost 6 years now, and every free Friday night is spent the same. The two of you bundled up underneath some blankets on the couch, countless glasses of wine, and some random movie playing on the screen. Every single Friday night is spent like this, but you can’t help hoping that this one will be different.

You can’t remember the exact point when your feelings for Adam changed, your feelings just simply changed over time. There’s nothing you’d rather want than telling Adam how you feel, but the fear of losing him holds you back. His friendship is the one thing that keeps you going, his smile, his humour, everything. You can’t even think about the possibility of losing that, it’s way too valuable to gamble with. So once more, you push your feelings aside, having Adam as just your friend is better than not having Adam at all.

Today is another regular Friday night, Adam laying on your couch, a blanket covering his body. His favourite movie playing on the screen, a bowl of popcorn sitting between the two of you. Mindlessly you grab your glass, only to find it empty. You groan, you’re so damn comfortable right now. You nudge Adam with your foot across the couch. He flinches, grabbing your foot with his hand. “What the heck? What do you want now?” he whines.

You try to give him your sweetest look, but Adam looks deeply unimpressed. “Can you get me something to drink? I’m sooo comfortable here,” you ask him softly.

He chuckles, before shaking his head at you. “Fuck no, I’m comfortable. Go grab your own drink, y/n.”

You grab the bottle of wine, pouring yourself another glass. You sigh to yourself again, you should’ve checked if he needed anything as well. “Adam! Do you need anything?” you yell out, keeping your fingers crossed that he heard you yelling his name. You don’t hear any noises coming from the living room, so you grab your glass of wine and walk out of the kitchen.

You sigh loudly, before climbing off the couch. “Ugh, you suck, Boqvist,” you tell him while passing by.

“Oh, fuck off,” Adam laughs, flipping you the bird.

The moment you round the corner you collide with a solid chest, spilling the contents of your glass all over Adam’s white shirt. “Shit, Adam. I’m so sorry,” you say, looking between your empty glass and Adam’s wet shirt.

“Fuck, y/n. That’s so cold,” he whines, touching the wet spot.

“Stop saying sorry, y/n. It isn’t your fault,” Adam says softly. You smile, turning around to grab something to clean his shirt with. “I’ll just throw it in your washing machine, it’s easier. You probably still have some stolen hoodie here anyway,” Adam says cheekily.

You grab his arm, pulling him inside the kitchen. “I’m sorry, let me get you cleaned up, okay?” you say, putting your glass back down on the counter.

You start laughing, because you do have some of his hoodies in your closet. Your laughter dies in your throat when you turn around, and come face to face with a shirtless Adam. It’s hard to keep your eyes off him. You knew he would be fit, considering he is a NHL player, but you’re still absolutely stunned. It’s his soft smile, the way he leans relaxed against the counter that brings you to the decision to just simply kiss him. It might not be the best moment, but who knows whenever an opportunity like this arises?

You close the small distance between Adam and you, grabbing the back of his neck, and softly pressing your lips on his. It takes Adam a few seconds to respond, those few seconds feeling like minutes to you. You start to pull away, your mind swirling with all different kinds of emotions, but Adam’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him, pressing his lips harder against yours.

There’s no fireworks, no sizzling feeling, but it does feel like coming home, like this is how it’s supposed to be. Adam’s hand cups your jaw, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip, coaxing you to open up for him. His tongue glides against yours, discovering a whole new part of you.

Desperate for some air, you break the kiss, slowly moving your head away from Adam. He brushes his thumb over your cheek, smiling softly at you. “Maybe you should’ve spilled your wine on me sooner, y/n.”

You laugh, slightly embarrassed about what happened in the last 10 minutes. “I don’t know about that, I had no idea..” you trail off.

“That I’m desperately in love with my best friend?” Adam says dryly, trying to keep the grin off his face. He sees the look of confusion, disbelief on your face. He turns the two of you around, backing you up against the counter. This time his lips land on yours, hands gripping your waist, and lifting you on top of the counter. You gasp at the contact between the cold counter and your hot skin, allowing Adam to deepen the kiss.

He steps between your open legs, hands sliding over the exposed skin of your thighs. You hold Adam close to you by the back of his neck, your other hand exploring his chest, his shoulders, anything you can get your hands on. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to do that, Adam,” you say, after breaking the kiss.

“So have I, you just beat me to it,” Adam chuckles, his hands sliding up your legs, and over your waist, stopping just below your breasts.

“Tell me to stop, y/n,” Adam says, eyes locked on yours, fingers itching to touch every single inch of your body, to discover every spot that makes you moan, laugh, smile, cry out, everything.

“Please, don’t stop,” you say, hooking your legs around his waist, pulling his hips flush against you. You grab one of his hands, placing it on your breast. “Touch me, Adam,” you tell him reassuringly. Adam squeezes softly, thumb brushing over your taut bud, drawing a moan out of your mouth.

“Always so bossy, huh?” Adam breathes against your neck, sucking softly on your skin. “I’ll show you who’s bossy, y/n.”

His fingers grip the hem of your t-shirt, slowly pulling it up and off your body. Fingertips brushing over your newly exposed skin, while his mouth crashes down on yours once more. Tongues dancing together, exploring new territory, hands touching every inch of skin they can reach.

Adam finds your eyes once more, while his fingers toy with the clasp of your bra. “You sure about this, y/n?” he asks, searching for any doubt you might have.

“I am, are you okay with this?” you ask, determined to make sure he’s okay with this as well.

Adam chuckles low, lips brushing against your ear. “I’m more than okay with this,” he whispers, unhooking your bra, and throwing it to the side.

His hands find your breasts instantly, gently squeezing the soft flesh. His thumbs brush over your nipples, softly rolling the buds between his fingers. “Oh, that feels so good,” you moan out. His lips trail a path down towards your breast, nipping and sucking skin on the way.

Adam pushes you down on the counter, the cold top soothing your burning skin. His lips close around one of your nipples, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth. His hands wander further down your body, slowly tugging your shorts and underwear down your legs. While his tongue swirls around your nipple, his hand slips between your legs, his fingers sliding through your dripping slit.

“Already so wet for me, aren’t you?” Adam breathes out against your breast.

“Please, Adam,” you beg, squirming underneath his touch. He chuckles low, pushing two fingers inside of you. You moan out at the sensation, clenching around his fingers. He groans against your skin, kissing down your body, until he reaches his final destination.

He softly blows against your core, smirking to himself when your hips almost buck off the counter. One of his hands presses down on your stomach, restricting your movements. “Be a good girl for me, and lay still,” Adam says, his thumb pressing down on your clit, fingers curved just the right way inside of you.

You try your hardest to stay still, but Adam is making it extremely difficult for you. His lips closing around your clit, softly sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves, his fingers hitting you in just the right spot. You’re a moaning mess underneath Adam’s touch, your fingers tightly wrapped around the strands of his hair, pulling his face closer against where you need him the most.

“Come for me, come on, baby,” Adam simply says, before his mouth is on your core again. His sweet, yet commanding words, his mouth, his fingers, everything together pushes you over the edge, spiralling into wonderful bliss. Eyes rolling to the back of your skull, fingers tightening their grip on Adam’s hair, his name falling off your lips in a never ending stream of moans and mumbles.

A sight Adam always hoped to see, but never dared to dream of. Naked before him, underneath him, completely lost in the pleasure he gave you, completely and utterly at peace. It’s a sight he slowly, but steadily finally can dream of. A dream come true, that’s for sure.

Adam gently slides his fingers out of you, keeping his eyes on your face. He brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking one of his fingers clean. The smirk that forms on his face tells you he isn’t done yet. “You,” he starts, bringing his other finger up to your mouth, “taste so good,” he finishes, pushing his finger past your lips. Your lips close around his finger, sucking it clean.

You release Adam’s finger with a pop, struggling to get yourself upright again. Adam chuckles at you, wrapping one arm around your back, while his other hand grabs the back of your thigh, lifting you off the counter. Your lips brush past his ear, his fingers tightening on your thigh. “I can’t wait to taste you, Adam,” you whisper. You smirk at his sharp intake of breath, the falter in his step.

“You will. But right now all I want is to bury myself inside of you, baby,” he counters, making you gasp.

Adam drops you on top of the mattress, a squeal leaving your lips. You look up at the gorgeous Swede before you, hands reaching out to help him out of his sweats. Adam simply chuckles at you, hooking his fingers into the waistband, sliding everything down in one swift move. His erection springs free from its confinements, smacking against his stomach. Your mouth almost starts to water at the sight before you, you desperately want to touch him, to taste him, to feel him.

Adam crawls back between your legs, claiming your mouth with his once again. His hand on your cheek, tongues swirling and twisting around the other, still getting used to the unfamiliar feeling. “Condom?” Adam breathes out against your lips. You nod your head, leaning towards your bedside table, rummaging through your drawer for a condom. You rip the package open between your teeth, gently rolling down the condom over his erection, giving him a few pumps with your hand.

His hands are everywhere when he settles himself between your legs, his cock sliding through your folds, coating himself in your wetness. Adam puts your leg around his waist, giving him some more room to work with. Gently he pushes inside of you, inch by inch, making sure he doesn’t hurt you in any way. He feels you tense up beneath him, even though your face looks completely okay. Adam brushes his hand over your upper thigh, softly pecking your lips. “Relax, baby. I got you,” he says, lips brushing over yours.

His sweet words make you forget all about your tension, instantly relaxing your muscles. “Good girl,” Adam whispers against your ear the moment he’s fully seated inside of you. You move your hips, letting Adam know he can move. He slowly starts moving inside of you, letting the both of you get used to the unfamiliar feeling of being this close, this connected to each other. One of your hands tangled in the strands of Adam’s hair, one hand on his back, keeping him as close as possible.

The two of you move like you’ve been doing this for a long time, completely relaxed with each other, completely at peace, bodies moving together as one, it’s a mind-altering experience.

Adam picks up his pace, his thrust short, yet deep inside of you. His thrusts hit you in all the right places, driving you closer, and closer to your release. It’s a spur of the moment decision, but it feels right, so right. “Can we switch?” you moan out against his bicep.

Adam chuckles, his pace slowing down to almost non existing. “We can do whatever you want, y/n,” he says, rolling the two of you over in one swift move. You laugh out loud at his move, bracing yourself on his chest. “Ride me, baby,” Adam says, hands gripping your hips. You lift your hips, gently sinking back down onto his cock, testing the waters. Adam smiles at you, his hands on your hips helping you to set the pace.

Every rock of your hips, every thrust that Adam gives to match your rhythm brings you closer to your orgasm. The groans and soft moans that leave Adam’s mouth might be your new favourite sound, his face revealing all his emotions, his feelings.

You’re so close, so close to your release, you can almost taste it. Adam’s thumb presses down on your clit, rubbing fast circles on the sensitive bud. “Almost there, almost there,” you moan out, completely lost in everything Adam gives you. The words are barely out of your mouth before you shatter around him, yelling his name so loud the neighbours probably know you’re finally more than friends.

Adam fucks you right through your high, the way you’re clamping down on him makes sure he absolutely won’t last a lot longer. Your eyes are on his when he pushes you down onto his cock, burying himself deep inside of you. The way his face twists into pure relief, bliss, ecstasy, your name leaving his lips, the groans when he empties himself inside the condom. It’s only making this experience better, unforgettable.

A chuckle leaves Adam’s throat when he comes down from his own high, brushing his hand through his hair. “What’s so funny, huh?” you smile at him.

“I never thought this would happen, I hoped it would though,” he replies, gently lifting you off him. You roll back onto your back, staring at the ceiling, thinking about his words for a second, while Adam ties the condom, throwing it in the trashcan besides your bed.

He looks over at you, shaking his head at your thoughtful face. “Come here,” Adam whispers, pulling you back on top of him. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he says softly, pecking your lips.

You smile at him, tracing his cheekbones with your fingers. “I don’t know, it’s still pretty unbelievable that this actually happened,” you muse. “What do we do now, Adam?” Your eyebrows furrow at your own question, even though you hate that question, it needs to be asked.

Adam rolls the two of you over again, wiggling himself between your legs, cupping your face between his hands. “What do we do now?” he asks, mimicking your earlier question. You nod your head at him, not trusting your voice right now. “Now, I would like to go to sleep with my girlfriend, how about that?” Adam says, a smirk appearing on his face.

You can’t contain the smile on your face, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Your girlfriend would like that very much, boyfriend,” you whisper against his lips. His grin tells you everything you need to know, before he claims your lips with his again, and again, and again.

#adam boqvist #adam boqvist imagine #adam boqvist x reader #adam boqvist smut #adam boqvist fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl smut #hockey smut #nhl fic #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction

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kitchenscene · 3 years

Note

For the prompts mellow + under the stars

canis major mellow + under the stars ___________________

Out in the backyard, the breeze blows through, but still, he’s warm with his back pressed to Buck’s chest, slotted between his legs, Buck propped up on one elbow, his other arm wrapping around Eddie’s waist. It’s a weight he could never tire of carrying. Chris has long since gone off to bed, the night sky easing in, replacing the golden sunset. The two of them alone, tangled together in the grass under the watchful eye of the night.

Together, that’s how it always is. Him and Buck, together. It took months for Eddie to truly believe he could have this, to believe he could be held, be loved in a way he’d never been before. Months of restraint, too scared to ask for what Buck would happily offer. Hesitant to initiate, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Tonight he believes. It’s easy, the way he reaches towards Buck, the way Buck always reaches back.

The back porch lights are all shut off, leaving them under a dark sky and a distant moon. It’s a warm summer, the dragonflies dance above. Two circle around each other, swooping higher and higher. They settle in a tree, branches swaying as they land. Beyond them lies the stars, muted by the city lights, but fighting past the darkness regardless. The brightest of them shine, urging the rest to follow suit.

read on ao3

“That one looks like a cow,” Buck squints and points towards the sky, lifting his hand from around Eddie’s waist. He tilts his head to follow his hand, leading towards the Big Dipper.

Eddie laughs. “It’s Ursa Major.”

“Not a cow?”

“Bear,” he confirms, “Not a cow.”

Quietly, he huffs, “Eh, close enough.” Eddie feels every word as he speaks, rattling through his chest, softly spoken observations resonating in his head. The hum is like a lullaby, tired eyes becoming heavy under the black sky. “That one looks like a dog,” Buck points again.

“This isn’t cloud gazing,” he laughs softly, “you can’t just make up shapes.”

He bends down to catch Eddie’s eye. Eddie tilts up in return. “The ancient Greeks are allowed to make up shapes, but I’m not?”

“Yes,” he laughs, smiling up to Buck. He reaches up to grab Buck’s hand, pulling it back down to his chest, resting over his heart. One beat, two beats, skip, skip, skip. He traces over his knuckles, his bones and veins, mapping every movement, every patch of skin, where scars smooth over into calluses and scratches fade with time.

“Well, is it a dog?” he grins expectantly.

He shakes his head. “It’s a lion. Leo.”

Buck glances back up and huffs. “There’s no way that’s a lion.”

Eddie laughs at his disbelief. “A dog is believable but a lion isn’t?”

“It’s not like the Greek philosophers were hanging out with lions,” he turns back down to look at Eddie, “how would they know?”

He looks up to the sky, watching the stars glimmer. The sky’s too dark to see all the stars, making the constellations emptier than they should be. Missing dots, connecting lines barely visible, it’s nearly impossible to make out the shapes. Still, it’s entertaining to watch him try.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you there is a dog constellation,” Eddie offers, “you just can’t see it right now?”

Buck raises a brow at him, nose wrinkling. “Since when do you know so much about the constellations?”

It’s a more complicated answer than it should be. Part of it is because of Chris and his fondness for space. Most of it is his own childhood interest, peeking out the windows on sleepless nights, memorizing whichever stars appeared on the horizon. Library books and planetariums showed him the brightest points of the sky, connecting the dots, forming patterns.

“Chris had a pretty big space phase right before we left Texas,” he says, half a truth. He forgot most of the constellations over the years, Chris brought the lost knowledge back to him. “I spent about a week reading nothing but space books.”

“Did you guys ever go stargazing?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, soft, reminiscing, “The stars were a lot brighter there. Los Angeles is too bright to really stargaze.”

In El Paso, they had the stars, more often than not peering through. Even through the clouds, he could see the stars. Los Angeles brings empty skies. It’s an easy trade; he’d take a lifetime of empty skies if it meant he could watch them with Buck.

“We should take a weekend some time. Leave the city, go somewhere with less light pollution,” Buck suggests. “We could go camping. I think Chris would love it.”

One beat, two beats, his heart swells at the offer, the ease with which it was made. The three of them, a unit. A family vacation. Buck would surely hunt down the best campsite, something scenic. Full of wildlife and swaying trees, easy hikes and cozy campfires. Something tells him Buck lacks the patience to roast a marshmallow, letting them burn and peeling away the charred sugar, only to let it burn again.

“Yeah?” he asks, barely audible. He squeezes Buck’s hand tighter, “you promise?” laced between their fingers.

“Yeah,” he whispers a soft confirmation. “The two of you can tell me all about the stars.”

The stars twinkle in response, inviting them in. He would rename each and every star for Buck if he could, giving him his very own constellation. Gone goes Hercules and Orion, the brightest stars would be given to him, glowing even on the lightest nights.

In the dark, perhaps, on their camping trip, they may finally see Venus. Or Saturn and Mercury, forming a line across the horizon. The red glow of Mars may make an appearance, a single speck in the night, or maybe just the flashing lights of passing planes. Chris will argue with him when Eddie insists that it’s a UFO, Buck happily playing along with the charade. “It’s flying, and you don’t know what it is, therefore it’s a UFO.”

Satellites and shooting stars, space stations and constellations. They could see them all, together, counting the spaces in between, piecing together the sky like a puzzle, slotting into place.

He counts Buck’s breaths, the rise and fall of his chest against Eddie’s head. Right here in the backyard, he could sleep easy against him. His arm, still supporting both their weights, surely uncomfortable. Buck makes no effort to move him, content to let it go numb.

“That one looks kinda like a scorpion,” Buck points. He drags Eddie’s hand along so he can see where he’s pointing. “And that’s the tail, right there,” he traces the outline. Another breeze passes through, brushing against their hands.

“That’s Draco, I think. But down there,” Eddie drags their hands downward, tracing the horizon, “that’s a scorpion.”

“You have to be lying to me,” he laughs, dropping their hands back to Eddie’s chest, “what part of that is a scorpion?”

“Then what is it?” Eddie asks, twisting their fingers. Buck lifts his hand once again to point, giving a new name to every shape in the sky. He traces new outlines, “that’s a tree,” and, “that’s definitely a dragon, are you kidding me? There’s a Pegasus constellation, but not a dragon?” Eddie lets him draw out his own star map, picking and choosing his own North star, his guiding light. Dogs and dragons, forests of new identities.

Head against Buck’s chest, Eddie lets him rewrite the stars.

all word + place prompt fills can be found here

#im not gonna post all of them to ao3 however. i like this one and it ended up longer than the others #911 fox #911 #911 fics #buddie #buddie fics #prompt fills #mine:911 #texas.fic #love letters to alex #if you send me more prompts just be aware. i have several already. so it'll take awhile to get to yours

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my-emotional-self · 3 years

Text

Toxic Love Chapter 8

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing. But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story! I apologize in advance!

Lucky for you, Darcy was in the communal kitchen when you went down for lunch later that day. You had asked if she wanted to get out of the tower and do some shopping and she happily agreed.

Sending off a quick message to Steve and Bucky, the two of you headed out. It was decided that walking would be best instead of driving. The fresh air would be nice.

Naturally you found out Darcy was a little nosey, but you couldn’t help but laugh when she asked what medications you took after picking them up. “Just vitamins really,” you lied with a smile.

The two of you went to a few shops and you picked up a cute black leather cross body purse with little spike details on them along with a new pair of sunglasses. After that, you two headed to lunch.

“I have to ask,” Darcy began to say after the waiter left with your food orders, “just how big are they?” You assumed she was talking about Steve and Bucky, but you were confused at her question and you cocked your head to the side. “You know,” she said, using her hands as reference.

“Darcy, what are you talking about?” you giggled out your response.

“They give off big dick energy if you know what I mean,” she spoke so casually.

Your eyes widened when you finally realized what she was talking about. “Darcy!” you whisper screamed.

“What? A girl can be curious can’t she?”

You shook your head at her words, trying not to break out in hysterics. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve only known them for a few weeks and I just moved in a few days ago.”

“Well, I’m here for you when you are ready to discuss that.”

~~~

As you got back to the apartment, Steve was sitting on the couch watching the news. He turned his head to face you when he saw you walking out of the elevator.

“Did you have a fun time with Darcy?”

A smile crept onto your lips at remembering your conversation with Darcy earlier at lunch.

“Mmhmm. It was nice to get outside and to stretch my legs a bit.”

Dropping your purse onto the kitchen counter with your medication discreetly tucked safe inside, you sat down next to him on the couch. Steve wrapped his right arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him. He smelt so good, like cinnamon and pine trees.

“I’m glad you had fun. Bucky will be here soon and he’s going to cook dinner for us tonight.”

You weren’t overly hungry after having just ate lunch a few hours ago, but you were excited to have a nice quiet evening, just the three of you.

“Did you get off early today?” you asked with curiosity.

“Yeah. We’ve got to leave tomorrow for a mission so Fury gave us the rest of the day off. Bucky’s down working out right now.”

As he spoke, you couldn’t help but stare at his mouth. His top lip was nearly covered by the mustache of his beard while his lower plump lip looked delicious enough to nibble on. Without even thinking, you ran your hands through his beard.

“Are you ever going to shave this off?”

He chuckled at your words. “I might. Why? Do you not like it?” he asked as he turned to face you.

“No, I do. I actually really like it. I was just wondering what it would be like to kiss you without your beard.”

His lips parted at your words as his eyes glanced down to your lips. The two of you stayed that way for the briefest of moments before you practically pounced on him. Throwing your leg over his hips, you straddled him as your lips connected once again. Steve’s lips against yours felt like heaven. Pure euphoria. The man knew how to kiss.

Your hands gripped the back of his hair, pushing him closer to you. Steve’s hands were at your waist at first, but slowly moved back to your ass, squeezing roughly. You gasped into his mouth and you knew that was his intended purpose. His tongue conquered your mouth, causing you to moan. And that little moan of yours sent off a chain reaction. Steve’s hips bucked upwards and you felt him growing hard beneath you. Your hips ground down onto him, grinding back and forth over his length.

“Steve,” his name a mere whisper as his lips travelled down your throat and to your collarbone. He nipped it with his teeth before leaving a scorching path of hot breath and wet saliva up to your throat and then he hit your sweet spot. Right at your pulse point, he latched on with his mouth, sucking furiously and you damn well knew there was going to be a hickey the size of a fucking dinner plate.

Your nails scratched his scalp and you heard the most delicious moan come from his lips. You never wanted it to end. You wanted this to keep going. As your hips kept grinding back and forth, you felt an orgasm approaching. Steve sucked harder as his hips continued to thrust upwards, his hard cock straining in his jeans against your soft black leggings.

“I’m….I’m gonna….” But before you could finish your sentence, the elevator pinged. You and Steve immediately stilled all movement; the brink of your orgasm fading quickly away as Bucky cleared his throat.

“Did I interrupt something?” he asked with a devilish grin, looking between you and Steve.

“Great timing Buck,” Steve growled out.

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh as he headed into the kitchen and started taking out the ingredients for dinner.

“Sorry sweetheart,” Steve said before giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. He helped you off of him and before you could say anything, he got off the couch and walked towards the hallway as he adjusted himself in his pants.

~~~

“So, what are you making for dinner?” you asked Bucky as you hopped up on the kitchen counter and watched him work. Steve had to go talk to Fury at the last minute about the upcoming mission so you decided to keep Bucky company in the kitchen.

“Ma’s famous spaghetti and meatballs,” he replied as he started molding the two pounds of meat into meatballs.

Not wanting to get your hair in any of the food, you took the hair tie from around your wrist and piled your hair into a messy bun at the top of your head. As you watched his hands work effortlessly, you didn’t notice Bucky staring at your neck.

“He got you good didn’t he?” he stated with a grin, nodding his head to your neck.

“Are you jealous Bucky?” you teased him back, nudging his arm with your elbow.

He shook his head, a soft snicker coming from his mouth as he rinsed his hands off with soap and water before moving the meatballs into the pan.

You had come to realize that you loved watching him in the kitchen. He moved about so easily, almost as if he was dancing. He really knew what he was doing.

Before you knew it, he was standing in between your legs; his arms on either side of your thighs, caging you in. His blue eyes zeroed in on the hickey Steve gave you, inspecting it closely.

“I’m not jealous doll. Stevie and I are on the same playing field. You are ours. Both of ours and we know how to share.” His face now in front of yours, noses nearly touching as you inhaled his scent. Like Steve, he had a woodsy smell to him, but instead of cinnamon, he smelt of mint. Mint and woods.

His blue eyes locked with yours and your breathing became ragged. Bucky moved closer, but instead of his lips meeting yours, he turned his head at the last minute and his mouth latched onto your neck. Tilting your head back, you let out a breathy moan. You knew what he was doing; cheeky bastard. He was giving you a hickey on the opposite side of your neck from where Steve left his mark.

Your legs came up to wrap around him, pushing his hips closer to yours and you immediately felt the bulge forming in his pants. “Oh Bucky,” you mewled as he hit a particularly sensitive part of your neck, sucking vigorously. The familiar twinge of an oncoming orgasm was starting to build and you were more worked up than ever, especially since you never full got off when you were hot and heavy with Steve earlier.

As Bucky’s lips remained attached to your neck, you felt his metal arm drop to your thigh. His fingers began trailing up and down your inner thigh; small gasps and moans continue to flood out of your mouth. As his fingers trailed closer to where you wanted him to touch you, you felt like you were going to burst. You knew with just one soft touch of his metal fingers you would be sent over the edge.

But it didn’t happen. Just as his fingers were mere millimeters away, Steve cleared his throat. Bucky let go of your skin with a pop; his lips red and swollen from his ministrations. “Sorry doll. Stevie has bad timing,” he said before giving your lips a quick kiss.

He went back to cooking as Steve tried to hide his smile the best he could.

“UGH!” you screeched as you hopped off the counter and began to march towards your room. “You are BOTH cock blockers!”

~~~

The following morning you were saying goodbye to Steve and Bucky. They had both apologized for the previous night and you were still peeved. Not about the hickeys. No. You loved that they had each marked you. You were pissed about nearly orgasming with both of them and then each of them cock blocking you. Assholes. You were so wound up, it took everything in you to not get yourself off that night, but one of your rules was not to touch yourself. So instead, you stood under a cold shower for you don’t even know how long.

Steve gave you a kiss on your forehead. “Now be good. The rules especially apply while we are gone.”

You nodded your head in understand. Bucky gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Please be a good girl for us and stay out of trouble.”

Shaking your head, you let out a laugh. “How can I get into trouble when your taking all the trouble with you.”

“Very funny,” Steve said as he hit the button to the elevator. You watched as both men climbed inside.

As the doors began to close, you spoke, “Please be careful.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #dark!steve rogers #dark! steve rogers

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honeyhan-123 · 4 years

Text

The Monster In Plain Sight ~ III

Series Summary: Steve’s been slowly biding his time, playing the role of the perfect Captain America, but now he’s sick of playing and he’s going to take what he wants.

Chapter Summary: Steve peels back his mask.

Warnings:Dark!Steve, non-con, allusions to past victims, Steve is a serial rapist in this, trapping the reader. I’m sorry if theres more but I’m half dead right now so just let me know and I’ll fix it.

Word Count: 3.2k

AN: This is my contribution to trying to make 2021 better than the shit show that was 2020. I really hope y’all like it!

Also, I’m thinking that maybe this is the last part? Let me know if you want more but I’m not too sure.

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

The ‘safe house’ that Steve had chosen was really just his own little cabin in the woods. Of course it wasn’t just like any regular cabin, there were safety measures in place. Like the fact that it was at least five miles away from the nearest residence, or the fact that to get in or out of the building his thumbprint was needed. But you didn’t need to know any of that.

It was a three hour drive and Steve couldn’t help but peak over at you out of the corner of his eyes for the entire duration. You wore jeans and a sweater that Steve longed to rip from your body. Once he had you safely tucked away in his cabin he’d make sure you could never hide your body again.

The thoughts alone of what he had planned made him shift uncomfortably in his seat, trying to readjust himself in his pants. Oh how he longed to just pull over to the side of the road and slide into his new home between your legs. It physically pained him but he still had at least an hour drive to go and he didn’t want to risk you drawing any attention during that time.

It took longer than Steve wanted to reach his cabin but at long last he finally turned onto the dirt road that made up the last two or so miles to the house. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as you stared out at the dense forest, a hint of nervousness starting to screen in. In a sick way Steve was glad that you were finally starting to realise how vulnerable you were now.

It had been almost too easy for Steve to convince you to trust him and he couldn’t wait to shatter that trust. To show you the monster that had been lurking in plain sight.

When he finally eased the car to a complete stop, he allowed himself one last glance back at you. It wouldn’t be the last time he would be seeing you but it would be the last time you would look at him with that level of trust in your eyes. At least, for a while.

Steve had no doubt that if he kept you here for long enough, you would eventually cave to him. Although, none of the others had lasted long enough for that…

It was rare for anyone to catch his eye for long enough for Steve to bring them here. And the few that had, quickly learnt that Steve was not the epitome of patience that the media often portrayed him as.

Steve shrugged those memories away. They were the past and he was here with you now. He was certain you wouldn’t disappoint him like the others had. You wouldn’t end up like they had.

He gave you one last smile before opening his door. The cool autumn air hinted at the fast approaching winter and he saw you shiver as he carried your bags up to the front door.

‘This is home sweet home. There are various safety measures around the place but you don’t really need to worry about all that. All I want you to concern yourself with is settling in. I want you to like it here as much as I do. After all, it is your new home.’ His words sent a wave of confusion through you.

‘For the next few weeks at least.’ You corrected him with a smile as you gazed around the mud room, completely missing the flash of anger that momentarily took a hold of Steve's features.

‘Right. Well, it could take some time to catch whoever fucked you.’ You gasped at his vulgar language, turning to face him.

‘That’s not the word I would have used.’

Steve merely shrugged away your chastisement and gestured to the hallway. ‘Let me show you to the bedroom. You followed as he led the way past the dining room and then the kitchen. Just by the door to the kitchen you saw another, one that held a flight of dark stairs, presumably to a basement of sorts. You were glad to not be sleeping down there.

When Steve nudged the bedroom door open you were surprised by how lived in the room looked. You would have thought a safe house would have a sort of desolate feel to it, but not this one. It almost had a sort of homey feel to it.

You expected Steve to just dump your bags down on the bed and then disappear off to wherever he would be sleeping but instead, he closed the door behind him and you heard a faint click of a lock. You whipped around to face him, about to ask why he’d locked the door but the words died in your throat as you caught sight of his darkened eyes.

‘Steve…’ Your voice was timid, taken aback by the abrupt change in him and all too aware of just how alone you were now. ‘What are you doing?’

‘What I’ve been waiting to do for months.’ His voice was deeper than usual and your throat felt tight as he shrugged out of his jacket. It was only when he turned to hang it up in the closet did you realise why the cabin had such a homey feel to it. It had that feeling because it was a home. His home.

‘I- I don’t understand. What do you mean “what you’ve wanted to do for months?”’

‘I mean I’ve been watching you. Waiting for this moment. Patiently biding my time until I had you completely at my mercy.’ He started closing the distance between your bodies and with every step he took, you took one backwards. ‘You know, it’s kind of funny. I knew from the first moment I saw you that I would have you, but I didn’t realise until last night that I wouldn’t be satisfied with just a one off occurrence. You’re better than that, you deserve more.’

The back of your legs hit the foot of the bed and you stumbled back onto it, trying to crawl away as the realisation sunk into you. ‘Last night? That - that was you?’ Your voice was merely a whisper but in the silence of the cabin there was no doubt he heard you.

‘Of course it was me. Why else do you think I made sure I was the first one to find you this morning? Getting you here would’ve been a little harder if you had gotten the authorities involved.’

‘You had no intention of ever helping me. Then why…’

‘Make you get the sperm for a DNA test?’ He finished your question for you, a twisted smirk on his lips. ‘That, I admit, was purely for my own entertainment. Plus I wanted to see your perfect little cunt again.’

‘So what? You just took me here for… for what?’ Panic was truly starting to set in as he revealed what a monster he really was.

‘Isn’t it obvious? I want you. I wasn’t content with just one night. I want more. So I brought you here, miles away from the nearest residential area. You can scream as loud as you like but no one will ever hear you. You can try to escape me but I will catch up before you even make it off the property. You’re mine to do with a I please now.’

His words sent a shiver down your spine and you didn’t doubt that he meant every single one of them, yet there was a part of you that refused to give up hope. This had to all be a dream. Some sick, twisted nightmare.

You hadn't seen him move but suddenly you were pushed onto your back and his arms were on either side of you, caging you in. ‘So go ahead.’ His lips brushed your own as he breathed the words. ‘Do it. Scream for me.’

His words were your only warning before his hands met the straps of your tank top and abruptly tore it away from your body. Your arms came up, trying to shield yourself from him but he swiftly gathered your wrists in his hand and pinned them above your head.

You thrashed your hips wildly, trying to buck him off of you to no avail. Instead, he slipped his spare forefinger down along your sternum and hooked it underneath your bra. With one last devious smirk down at you, he pulled it away.

It hurt as it tore around your chest, leaving you completely bare to him. ‘That’s much better isn’t it?’ His eyes danced along your breasts as he spoke, completely enraptured by them for the time being.

You thrashed even more wildly, your desperation kicking up a notch as his hand slipped along your stomach and down to the waistband of your pants. He deftly undid the button to your jeans and then the fly. He used your own movement to aid him in pulling the denim and your modest panties down and away from your legs.

You breathed in his own breath as his fingers forced their way between your thighs. ‘Well… Look at this.’ He pulled his hand back so you could see the glistening fingers. ‘I knew you were different. You want it. You want me.’ You tried to speak, to deny his claims but he interrupted before you even had the chance. ‘Don’t bother with whatever falsity you’re trying to say. Those gorgeous lips can lie to me but your body can’t.’ With that he shoved his hand back between your thighs and started playing with the slick he had found there.

You wanted to hate it, and you did to an extent. Yet, there was a small part of you that couldn’t ignore the growing fire that his fingers had ignited. ‘Stop it please. Steve. Stop.’ Your commands were pitiful even to your own ears.

‘You and I both know you don’t mean that Baby.’ You shuddered at the pet name yet your denial was caught in your throat as his fingers found your clit. An involuntary gasp fell from your lips and it was all the invitation that Steve needed to lean down and slide his tongue into your open mouth.

You recoiled at the unfamiliar feeling but no matter how hard though tried to shove him off, he was too strong. He remained stuck, on top of you, the only barrier was his arm leading down to your cunt where he continued to draw out moan after moan from your lips.

‘That’s it Baby. Just give in to me. Isn’t it so much easier? To just give in to what your body so desperately needs?’ His words were mumbled against your lips and you tried to speak out, only for another moan to betray your mind.

His hand had shifted slightly, and suddenly there was a finger poking at your entrance as his palm continued to brush against your bundle of nerves. You were unable to do anything but lie there and take it as his finger easily slid into your channel.

No sooner than he had one finger inside you did he add a second and then a third. ‘God, you’re so fuckin’ wet. So tight. I can’t wait to see you take my cock again.’ His words should have repulsed you but instead they furthered your own excitement. Your thighs clenching desperately around his hand. ‘Oh you like that do you? Me talking dirty? Reminding you that your best feature will always be right here?’ His hand drew back and lightly slapped your swollen lips. ‘This hole. This cunt. It’s fucking marvellous.’ Your eyes squeezed shut on their own accord as his fingers brushed against that spot inside you.

You were repulsed by your body's reaction. The coil inside your gut grew tighter and tighter with every ministration of his. You longed for him to get off of you yet you also longed for him. Your body and mind were at war with one another but not for long. Your body claimed a swift victory.as your orgasm approached and continued to wash over you, from the tips of your toes to your muddled mind.

Wave after wave of pleasure consumed you, making its way over your body as your walls pulsed around his fingers.

‘That’s a good girl. Just give in. I can give you this and so much more.’ You were in such a daze as he spoke that you didn’t even realise his body briefly leaving yours as he hastily shoved his hands down his thighs and his shirt falling to the floor nearby. Just as quickly as his body had left yours, it returned.

He apparently didn’t think you needed restraining anymore and you hated how his assumption was correct. You were in no state to fight back anymore and you questioned if you even wanted to. You felt his hand lightly brush against your sensitive lips before there was a poking sensation. You gasped as he pushed his way into you. Your groin was already sore from the night before and now you truly knew why. You didn’t have to be able to fully see him to know Steve was just as big down there as he was everywhere else.

It felt as though he were splitting you open and you tried to shove him off once more, unable to bear with the pain. Your attempts were futile as your hands were merely met with a wall of smooth muscle. ‘I know baby. I know it hurts but - fuck. I’ll make it feel better. I’ll make it all feel better.’ You took little reassurance from his words as he began thrusting, slowly pulling out inch by inch before forcing his way back in.

His slow pace was torturous. Despite the pain, your body wanted more and it wanted it now. On their own accord, hips slightly lifted up to meet his, trying to invite him further in and Steve needed no further prompting. His pace shifted drastically, his hips now pummelling into yours over and over again. ‘I knew you wanted it. I knew you wanted me. You put up a good fight but now that you have a cock. In you, you’re just a mindless little fuck doll aren’t you?’ When you couldn’t respond his hand lightly slapped your cheek, gripping it tightly. ‘Aren’t you?’

You gasped out a meaner ‘yes’. And watched as his smile grew.

‘And whose fuck doll are you?’ His words alone were menacing enough and you needed no further prompting to answer him this time.

‘Yours. Steve… I’m yours.’ The words were out of your lips before you had truly had the chance to process what you were saying.

‘That’;s right Baby. You’re all mine.’ His thrusts paused only briefly as he placed his feet back on the ground and pulled your ass towards the edge of the bed, wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands gripped your thighs harshly, no doubt leaving a myriad of bruises in their wake. He used his new position to push even further in than you thought possible. How could he reach this far inside you? His gaze was directed down at where your bodies met with the sound of clapping flesh.

‘See that Baby? See how well your body takes me? How deep I am inside you, basically in your womb?’ His words terrified you but there was a part of you that longed for me. ‘See this right here?’ His finger tapped your abdomen and you could see what he meant as he moved. Even through all the layers of fat, muscle and skin you could still see the bulbous head of his cock as he speared into you. ‘You were made for this. For me.’

You shredded as he hand moved down from your stomach and back to your clit. You didn’t want to want his fingers or any part of him for that matter, yet your body continued to betray you, a mewl falling from your lips as he flicked your clit.

The coil which you had been denying grew tighter and tighter with every thrust of his hips. You could tell Steve had realised how closer you were as you felt him pull back, his pace slowing ever so slightly. He had drawn you tantalisingly close to the edge and yet refused to push you over. You hated the way your eyes met his, large and doe like, silently begging for more.

‘You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to cum Baby. I wanna hear you beg for me. For my cock.’ You shook your head back and forth, determined not to cave. All this earned you was a humourless laugh. ‘Let me make this real simple for you Baby. You can either beg for me like a good girl or I can simply stop giving a fuck about your pleasure.’ As though to emphasise his words he let his fingers cease their dance along your clit, causing a whimper to fall from your lips. ‘It’s really up to you. But dildo make your mind up quickly, I’m not feeling very patient.’

Five thrusts. That was all it took for your resolve to crumble and for the words to start tumbling from your lips. ‘Please. Please Steve. Let me cum. I need it.’

‘Oh Baby, you and I both know you can do better.’ His words mocked you as his slow pace drove you crazy.

You swallowed down your pride as you prepared to say your next words. ‘I need you Steve. You’re-’ You were cut off by the sudden fierceness of his thrusts, once again bringing you back to the edge. There was a warning look in his eye as he gazed down at you to keep going with your begging however. ‘You’re the only one. The only one who can give me what I want. What I need.’ Your words which he had clearly so longed to hear sent him over the edge as he collapsed on top of you, grinding his hips against you as he pumped you full of his cum. You hated how the feeling of him coating your walls was what did you in, triggering your own desperate release. Your walls clenched around him, pulsing as your body tried to lock him into place.

The time it took for Steve to recover truly said a great deal about how much he had wanted this. How own breaths were laboured as he lay unmoving on top of you, his forehead pressed against your own, forcing you to breathe in his air.

‘God Baby,. That was even better than last night. So much better. I think I… I need a little break before round two. Maybe next time you could do all the work and ride me like how you ride that little dildo of yours hmmm?’ His words were hazy but the force with which he lifted you up from the edge of the bed and moved so that he lay with his head against the pillow, his cock not once slipping out of you was astonishing. His arms locked around your waist, holding you in place as he yawned. ‘Maybe you could wake me up after my little nap like that? I don’t think there's any better way to be woken up.’

His azure eyes closed and you dreaded the next time you would see them once more.

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plumeriaheart · 5 years

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You can keep the shirt [Mammon/Reader]

It’s Mammon loving hours, lads! Jk, it’s always Mammon loving hours on this blog. Thank you so much @mcfishayy-blog for commissioning me to write this, I had a lot of fun doing so! I hope you enjoy this fic ♡

I’m currently accepting writing commissions for Obey Me!, so if you like my writing, feel free to check them out!

FANDOM: Obey Me!

RATING: pure smut

PROMPT: “You’re not wearing anything underneath that, are you?”

WORD COUNT: 3k

Maybe it is a bold decision to leave your room in the middle of the night, but what else are you supposed to do? Sleep wouldn't find you either way, you might as well keep yourself entertained, you think. As you look around your room, trying to find something that piqued your interest, your gaze falls upon a piece of clothing – a black shirt, too big for your small frame. You don't remember when he left it here, but it couldn’t have been too long ago. Otherwise, you would’ve noticed it sooner.

As you walk over and pick up the shirt, an idea strikes you. Maybe you could bring the shirt back to Mammon, and for once stay the night at his room? You’re certain that Mammon would not kick you out of his room. He’d think of some silly excuse to allow a human like you to stay, sure, but you don’t think he’d make you leave again.

You gingerly strip out of your nightgown and replace it with his shirt. It’s a bit shorter than your nightgown was, ever so slightly slipping off of one shoulder. When you take a look at yourself in the mirror, blood rushes to your cheeks. His warmth may be missing from the shirt, but his scent still lingers and when you close your eyes, you can almost imagine his arms wrapped around you. Then you shake your head to snap out of it – you’re not the one supposed to get flustered by this!

Peeking out of the door crack to see whether the coast is clear, you take a deep breath and step out of your room. Mammon’s room isn’t far away, and you pray that Lucifer isn’t patrolling the hallway tonight. If he saw you like this, you would surely die of shame!

But luck is on your side tonight, and you get to Mammon’s room without being spotted. You knock on the door and wait. A couple of seconds pass and you almost begin to worry that Mammon is fast asleep, that he can't hear you knock and maybe your little plan has failed already… Then, the door opens. Before you stands Mammon, half-awake, ready to complain about being woken up.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Heat rises to your cheeks when you become aware of how silly your plan must’ve been after all. But his ears seem to perk up at the sound of your voice, eyes widening as if he just realised who was standing in front of him.

“What are ya’ doing here? Ain’t you supposed to sleep at a time like this?” Well, look who’s talking! You only shrug your shoulders, causing the shirt to slip further down your arm. It’s now that Mammon takes a closer look at you, and you can see his face redden within an instant.

“W-What are… What are ya’ wearing?!" He pulls you into his room and shuts the door behind him – locks it, even – to make sure nobody can get a glimpse of you. You can tell he's torn between staring at you and not letting you see his beet-red face.

“I couldn’t sleep, and, well… You left your shirt in my room, so I thought I’d return it,” you say as nonchalantly as you can, letting an innocent smile dance along your lips. Mammon lifts his head to look at you once more, blushing more as his eyes wander up your legs, your torso and finally meet yours. He’s mesmerised by you, rendered speechless by the sight in front of him.

To take things even further, you step closer to him, letting your fingertips trail along his collar. You can see the shiver running up his spine, hear him take in a sharp breath at how close you are.

"Wh… What game are ya' playin'?" The demon asks you breathlessly. His eyes never leave yours, and it seems that something within them gives him the courage to touch you. His hands come to rest on your hips, setting your skin aflame where he touches you. You’re about to open your mouth to answer his question when he abruptly pulls back, starting to stammer and avoid your gaze.

“Y-you're not… You're not wearing anything underneath… that, are you?" You can tell it's taking all of his self-control to keep his eyes averted. And he's torn – torn between wanting to see you in his clothes and wanting to see you stripped bare just for him.

“Nothing but your shirt, Mammon.” With a gulp, he looks up at you and when he sees your innocent smile, he curses. How can you act so devious and still look so pure while doing it? He’s completely at your mercy, and both of you know it. You beckon him to come closer, and he’s not going to be told twice. His fingers tangle in your hair as he makes you look up at him.

“You’re… awfully bold for some human, aren’t ya?” His voice is but a whisper, and his newly found confidence falters when you place your arms around his neck. Being this close, he can’t hide his reddened cheeks from you. You wouldn’t want him to, either.

“One of us had to make the first move eventually, don’t you think?” You smirk before you pull yourself up just enough to place your lips on his. For a single second, he freezes, but then he kisses you back. It feels so much better than all the times he imagined what your lips would feel like, the times he imagined dragging his tongue along your lower lip and savouring the sweet expression on your face. There are so many times he imagined what it would be like to kiss you, how you would feel in his arms and what kind of enticing sounds you'd make – but none of his dreams could come close to this. Your warmth burns his skin and he begins to trail kisses down your neck, sucking the soft skin until it darkens. He hears your sigh, taking it as encouragement to keep going and plasters further kisses down to your collarbone, making sure to mark you as his. As much as he wants to take a step back and admire his work on your skin, he lets his lips trail back to your mouth so that he can recapture your lips in another heated kiss.

His hands slip under your shirt, fingers tracing up your spine and pulling you closer. Your thigh brushes up against his crotch, and you’re surprised to find him hard already. He groans into the kiss, his body shivering at your touch. Now you’re the one placing kisses upon kisses down his neck, one of your hands tugging at his shirt.

“Take that off for me, will you?” You whisper against his skin, and it takes only one second of him stepping away, pulling his shirt over his head before he pulls you close against his body once more. Your lips find his again, hands roaming over his chest, fingertips caressing his firm muscles. Your touch makes him shiver, goosebumps appearing on his skin. It takes a little bit of strength, but you manage to lead him towards his bed without breaking the kiss – but then you give him a little push, and he falls on his bed. He looks at you with hunger as you climb on top of him, making sure to brush your butt against his crotch. An involuntary whimper falls from his lips, and it makes you melt. You decide to try his limits, slowly grinding against his clothed member and you see him biting down on his lip, trying to remain silent.

“Don't do that. I want to hear you, Mammon," you tell him, and he nods slowly. Soon enough, the room is filled with his heavy breathing and moans. The heat begins to pool at your core, the friction against your clit driving you wild. Your hips move on your own as you watch the way his chest rises and falls with ragged breaths. Mammon's hips buck up against you, causing a squeal to slip from your lips. You have to resist the urge to press your hand over your mouth to keep quiet; you want him to hear just how good he's making you feel.

As you keep riding him, you throw your head back and let the pleasure run through you. You don’t notice him reaching for you, letting his hand slip beneath your shirt and cup your breast, but you sigh contently at the sensation. His thumb toys with your nipple, sending multiple shivers down your spine, and you find yourself moaning his name as pleasure takes you over for the first time tonight. Your hips keep rocking against his as your body shakes from the high, pure electricity running through your nerves.

“Fuck, you… You look so good like that,” Mammon breathes beneath you, doing his best to memorise the way your lips parted as you reached your climax, the way you kept moaning his name – all of it is art to him, and he knows he would never tire of it.

Your grip on the bedsheets tightens as you climax, looking for any kind of support as ecstasy runs through your body. Your head feels hazy, overwhelmed by how much pleasure you’re feeling – maybe his presence is the reason for how intense your feelings have become? A few moments pass as you try to catch your breath, hips slowing to a halt eventually.

“Hah, sorry… I got carried away,” you mumble sheepishly, embarrassed at your loss of control, moving to get off his lap. He stops you as he sits up, one arm snaking around your waist. Adoration lingers in his gaze, the slightest hint of a smile visible on his lips. Your heart skips a beat at the way he looks at you.

“No wonder, you’re with THE Mammon, after all!” Seeing you come undone must’ve given him a new sense of confidence. Your thoughts are still running wild and you’re lost in his eyes, so you don’t notice how one of his hands travels between your thighs until he touches your slick pussy. You’re still sensitive from your orgasm, and a jolt of pleasure runs through you as he lets his fingers circle your clit. Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t help but rest your forehead against the crook of his neck. The way you react to him and his touch makes his chest swell with pride, and he wants to see more of it; he wants to be the reason you feel good.

You gasp when he slips two fingers inside of you, giving you only a few moments to adjust to the new sensation before he begins pumping them into you at a fast pace. An involuntary cry falls from your lips, enough to make him stop dead in his tracks.

“You okay?” His voice is suddenly laced with worry, and you don’t have the words to respond. You take a couple of seconds to get used to this feeling before you raise your head. The worry in his voice is nothing compared to the one in his eyes; afraid that he might do something that could hurt you. It almost makes you want to cry at how much he cares.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m okay. Please… keep going,” you plead. Something about the way your voice sounds colours his cheeks red, but he’s too enchanted by your begging expression to notice. He begins to move his fingers slowly, taking them out almost entirely before pushing them back in. His thumb works your clit, putting pressure on it in the right moments to give you the most pleasure. It’s easy for him to read your reactions; after all, he’s been taking note of you ever since you arrived in the Devildom. When your eyes roll back in pleasure, he increases the speed ever so slightly. When you bite your lip, he coaxes out another moan by circling your clit faster.

You’ve lost yourself to his touch by now, and yet he can’t take his eyes off of your face. He takes note of your flushed cheeks, parted lips, and the hair sticking to your temples. In all the millennia he has lived, he has never seen anything or anybody as beautiful as you in this moment. Perhaps you had some magic in you after all.

Your walls begin to tighten around his digits, causing him to pick up his speed. The heat begins to build inside of you once more, muscles tensing as you get closer to your climax. You let your fingers curl in his hair, pulling on it ever so slightly as he fingers you. Your moans begin to increase in volume before his lips find yours again, locking them in a kiss as you reach your second orgasm of the night.

It takes all of his self-control to eventually break the kiss so he can look at you again. A content smile graces your face, eyes hazy from the pleasure but filled with affection for… him?

He slowly pulls out his fingers, drenched in your juices, and lifts them to his face as if to admire how wet you are – how wet he made you! You blush furiously when he starts to lick his fingers clean, grinning at you, and yet you seem to be unable to take your eyes off of the sight in front of you. The obscene gesture embarrasses you, so you press your lips against his to stop him, tasting your salty essence on his lips.

Your hands wander down his chest towards his pants, and you waste no time in pulling them down enough for his cock to spring free. When you let your fingers wrap around the slick head, Mammon lets out a groan. You realise how sensitive he must be, watching you cum twice and not being able to do find any release. To remedy that, you shift and position yourself on his lap so that his cock is aligned right under your pussy.

“You sure you can go for another round?” He begins to question you, taking note of the way your thighs tremble. His genuine concern for you, especially in a situation such as this, makes your heart flutter.

“Yeah. I want this,” you tell him before you lower your hips. His length slips inside of you with no problem, but you allow yourself a couple of seconds to adjust to his size before you continue moving your hips. You savour the way he fills you up, the feeling of his cock stretching your walls to accommodate him.

He places his hands beneath your thighs, helping you ride him in case your strength gives out. The feeling of your tight walls around him could be enough to let his carnal desire take over, but he is way too aware of how sensitive you must be right now. It’s not normal for him to be this considerate, especially not in a situation like this. He’s the Avatar of Greed, for hell’s sake!

As if you can read his thoughts, you let out a breathy chuckle. “You don’t have to hold back for my sake, Mammon.” You’re surprised at how slow he’s fucking you right now, and by the look on his face you can tell something is bothering him. You cup one of his cheeks and kiss him, and this is when he finally cracks.

His lips crash into yours over and over again; sucking on the soft skin of your neck; biting your shoulder. It’s as if he’s trying to devour you, and you can feel the greed radiating from him, infecting you. He pulls you close to him as he lowers himself back on the bed, your chest pressed to his. You hold onto him, nails digging into his skin and surely leaving marks, and yet all you can think about is that you want him – all of him.

When he begins to thrust his cock into you, your moans grow louder and louder, and his lips can only muffle the sound of them so much. Soon, the room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin, heavy breathing and loud moaning; a symphony of lust that would render even Asmodeus jealous.

You wish you had more energy to grind your hips against his, helping him cum faster, but as soon as he notices your effort, he stops you. Guiding your ass up and down his cock, he brings one hand to your face and lets you suck on his fingers. The way you hungrily lick at them and take them into your mouth makes him moan, before he moves his fingers to your clit, teasing it as he fucks you faster. You’re aware of what he’s about to do, and yet you cry out when you feel him flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“I don’t… Think I can hold out much longer,” the demon groans, and you can tell by the way his thrusts start to become more sloppy that he’s close. His fingertips dig deeper into your skin, and you can tell that he’s going to leave bruises on your skin.

“Me neither,” you breathe, and it’s as if that alone is enough to push him over the edge. You feel the way his cock pulsates before his load fills you, heat burning inside of your core. A strangled moan escapes your lips as both of you cum, feeling the way his hips buck into you sporadically before he comes to a stop. You’re sure he can feel your heart racing in your chest as you try to regain your breath.

For a while, your ragged breathing is the only sound filling the room. You slowly begin to sit up, feeling his member twitch inside of you as you move. He lets out a quiet whimper as you raise your hips just enough for his cock to slip out, his seed dripping down your legs. His eyes roam your body, stopping at your legs as he watched the white spill out of you ever so slowly.

You let yourself fall onto the bed next to him, turning to the side so you can look at him properly. His hair is a total mess, his cheeks flushed and a couple of love bites decorate his neck. Reaching out to push his hair out of his face, you smile.

“Mammon?”

“Y-Yeah?”

“I don’t think I can walk after that.”

A/N: I don’t think i’ve written smut on this scale before, so I hope it reads okay~ it was a lot of fun to explore Mammon in this setting, tbh!

#obey me!#obey me! mammon #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #mammon x reader #obey me smut #obey me fic

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waiting4inspiration · 4 years

Text

Ride (Ivar x Reader)

Summary: Ivar only wants the best. And when his search for the best horses leads him to your city and he sees you trying to tame a wild stallion, he ends up wanting something different

Warnings: strong language, SMUT, +18 content, unprotected sex, slight fem!dom, mentions of war, i don’t know much about taming horses but i did the best i could,

Word Count: 3,875

Vikings Masterlist

Ivar only wants the best. The best soldiers in his army, the best ships in his navy, the best horses for his soldiers. He has the first two, now all he needs his horses. Strong, well-bred, well-trained stallions that will ride his army into battle against the Saxons. And there’s only one place in all of Norway that breed and train horses like that.

The city of Kvia is known to everyone as the Horselands. So much so, that it’s hardly even called Kvia. The Earl of Kvia, Denrin, only gives a team of his best horses to whoever pays the best price. And because Ivar wanted that, his bargaining with the Earl of the Horseland went on all through the winter season.

Now, it’s time for the king to see his prize.

It’s exactly as Ivar imagined it to look like. Green pastures far as the eye can see, herds of horses grazing on the luscious grass, some being rounded up by men, others being ridden. It’s only once they pass a certain point that leads them deeper into the land that there is a horse everywhere Ivar looks.

Denrin meets Ivar at the gates of his city, riding a gallant pale stallion to lead Ivar and his company to the fort-like building that would be Denrin’s Great Hall. The grey stone building, rigid and strong almost contrasts the freedom the green land gives off.

“We’ve given you a fine team of horses, King Ivar,” Denrin speaks as he leads Ivar and his brothers through the training ground. “All of our horses are trained to look fear and danger in the eye, obey their rider’s command whatever they may be, and might even be the steed that would lead you to Valhalla,” he mentions with a chuckle, but Ivar doesn’t laugh.

Ivar watches and men and women lead horses between training circles and stables, alternating between feeding stations and drinking wells. The sounds of steeds braying almost overshadow the communication of the people in the area.

“Even though we breed our own horses, wild horses roam the outer banks of the land. Those horses you saw when you entered the Horselands,” the horse lord states, looking over his shoulder to the visiting party. “We leave them be, unless they have been hurt or cast out of their herd. Then, we take them in and try to tame them,” he mentions, holding his hand out to gesture to a training ring with a single horse inside it.

The black beauty gallops around the fence, around a single trainer inside and a lunge line connecting them. “It also gives us a chance to breed fresh horses with different blood. And it gives the trainers something different to work on. Breaking a wild horse is not an easy job.”

“Who is that in the center?” Ivar questions right as Denrin stops talking. His eye has been fixed on the woman in the center of the horse’s galloping circles the entire time.

Denrin smiles as he shifts on his feet. “That is my daughter,” he states proudly, making Ivar turn his head to look at him. “She has been working on taming that horse for weeks. He’s a stubborn thing, only listens to her,” he mentions, nodding to you when you click your tongue and gently tug on the lunge line to order the horse to come to you.

The horse shakes his head and huffs out as his gallops turn to a canter. With a stern voice, you call the stallion and tug on the line again. And this time, he listens to you. The black steed walks over to you, keeps his head up confidently before nosing the hand you hold out for him.

“She will attempt to ride him today,” Denrin mentions as he takes a step forward to carry on leading Ivar, Ubbe, and Hvitserk through the training grounds and towards the stables holding their horses.

The rest of the tour goes by before Ivar can realize it. He is happy with his horses. His trust for Denrin and his horses is much like his trust for Floki and his boats. And even though he thought most, if not all, would be stallions, Denrin said that some of the mares can be just as spirited. They made their arrangements on how and when the horses would travel to Kattegat for Ivar’s use, and then it was time to witness the event everyone seems to have been waiting for.

The visiting guests didn’t think that someone trying to ride a wild stallion would be such a big deal. But there’s a crowd gathered around the training ring you and your horse were in before. Now, only the black stallion is there, minding his own business. He’s used to the crowd by now because it’s always busy during the day. He’s learned that if he doesn’t mind them, they won’t mind him.

“Do you think she’ll succeed?” Ubbe questions as he and Ivar find a spot where they can see the ring and the horse perfectly.

“I hope she does,” Hvitserk mentions as he comes to join his brothers. “I’ve placed a bet on her. A good one,” he chuckles, glancing down at the pocket of coins in his hands before he looks up at Ubbe and Ivar.

Ivar only rolls his eyes as he turns to try and find you. “She’s Denrin’s daughter. The chance is she learned how to ride a horse before even learning how to walk,” he mutters, smirking to himself at the thought of that. His words mean that he’s sure you’ll succeed in riding this wild beauty.

Seeing you walking out the stables, a saddle over your arms, and your gaze fixed on the training ring, Ivar shifts in his spot and marvels at the determination in your eyes. Hvitserk laughs to himself as a thought crosses his mind when his eyes wander down your body. “With legs like that, I wouldn’t be surprised if she rode men the way one would ride a wild horse.”

Those words bury themself in Ivar’s mind, making thoughts of his own spark up with him even trying. It makes his eyes fall to see what caused Hvitserk to say those words, and he takes in a deep breath at the sight of your legs. Oh yes, he can see the vulgar image his brother tried to paint so vividly now.

The image of you mounting him, those legs of yours either side of his useless one, hand on his chest to steady yourself above him as his fingers dig into the muscle of your thighs. Gods, what it would be like to have those legs clench around him as he-

You break his thoughts by placing the saddle on the fence with a thud, making him turn his gaze down to the ground to avoid meeting your gaze. Curse Hvitserk for putting the thought in his head. Now, he won’t be able to think of anything else on your attempt to ride the wild horse in the ring with you.

Walking to the horse, you breathe out a sigh and hold out your hand when he starts to walk to you again. You’ve accomplished this trick to get him to come to you by feeding him treats at first, making him think that you’ll always have something to give him. When other trainers have tried, he doesn’t budge.

“I know you’re nervous. So am I,” you whisper to him as you stroke his face with one hand, the other resting on the bridle you put on him this morning so that he’s used to it by now. “But, I trust you won’t throw me off and try to kill me,” you chuckle, grab the reins and slowly lead him over to the saddle.

It’s quiet. Everyone knows this part is crucial. If the horse doesn’t smell the saddle or doesn’t accept it, you won’t be riding him today. So, they all watch in anticipation as you secure the reins to the fence and place a hand on the saddle.

You know that this wild horse is also a curious stallion. You know he’ll smell the saddle. And when he does and doesn’t back away or get nervous, you smile to yourself and stroke his neck in affection, telling him he’s done a good job.

Ivar watches intently as you place the saddle on the horse’s back. He watches as you watch the horse closes, looking out for any sign that he doesn’t like this. It’s very, very clear that you’ve done this before.

With the saddle tightened and the horse still calm, you can breathe out a sigh of relief and turn to look for your father as the crowd softly cheers. They don’t want to freak the horse out while you’re so close to him. Denrin gives you an approving and encouraging nod. This is the moment he knows you’ve been waiting for since you managed to wrangle the wild spirit.

This isn’t the first time your horse has had a saddle on him, another thing you’ve made sure he’s used to before trying to ride him. It’s only a case of getting him to get used to having someone on his back and controlling him from there.

With the reins back in your hand and you now standing beside him, everyone holds a breath as you slip your foot into the stirrup and slowly, very slowly, pull yourself up to mount your horse.

You try to stay calm to keep your horse calm, but you can feel your racing heart in your chest as you sit on top of this strong animal. Patting the side of his neck when he doesn’t freak out, you sigh gently and nod your head as you whisper an approval to him.

Now, you need to ride him. It’s all good and well mounting him. But you need to take him around the ring a few times for you to be successful. And with a click of your tongue and a light urge from your heels, he starts to walk.

But you can see he’s on high alert and you make the small mistake of tightening your grip around the reins.

He startles, kicks his back legs out and whinnies as he shakes his head. You try to calm with him a smooth tone, but he does it again. “Easy,” you sternly say.

Shaking his head to get you to stop touching him, he breaks into a canter around the ring. When he bucks, an attempt to get whatever’s on his back off, you clench your legs to stop yourself from falling off and tug lightly on the reins.

Ivar’s mouth falls slightly at the display in front of him, the fight for power and dominance. It makes Hvitserk’s words come back to him and the thoughts he had afterward. He watches how you move your body to accommodate the bucking and rearing motions of the horse, and his mind immediately sees you above him again, rocking your body like that as you moan.

The horse stands up on his back legs, making people gasp and become more alert in case you fall and get hurt. But, you stay in your place. When the horse is back on all fours, you decide that it’s enough. Stroking his neck and you dismount, you breathe out a deep sigh and shake your head as your lips turn up into a smile.

The crowd around the ring cheers. You’ve done it. You’ve successfully ridden your wild horse for the first time without being thrown off.

And you’ve left images in Ivar’s mind that will no doubt make him hard every time he thinks of them, but you don’t know that part.

He won’t officially meet you until tomorrow, but he wants to meet you. Oh Gods, does he want to meet you. He reminds himself that he is a King. If he wishes to meet you, then he will do just that.

Which is why he finds himself standing in front of your bedroom doors minutes after your successful ride, his hand just inches from the door to knock. There are horses engraved in the wood, something that keeps his eyes busy for a moment before he eventually knocks.

“Yes?” He hears your voice from the other side, encouraging him to enter the room. And he does.

He walks past the door, his hand gripping the crutch at his side tightly when Hvitserk’s cursed words come to mind again. Now it not the time to think of you fucking him, he scolds to himself.

Then, he sees the bath in the room, wonders if you had just gotten out or if you were getting in. But the sight of your damp hair tells him he had come at a good time. The thin nightgown around your body says it’s a very good time.

“King Ivar. I wasn’t expecting you to introduce yourself today,” you say as you stand from your seat and take a small step forward.

It’s because of the journey here. He knows you’ve been told to let him rest before introductions can be made, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help his thoughts.

There’s a look in his eyes when they return to yours after wandering over your body, an action that makes a shiver roll through your body. Here, a man you have yet to meet, a King, staring at you in awe and fascination.

“I had to meet you after watching you ride that wild horse,” he explains, making your head nod in understanding as you fold your arms over your chest when he walks forward. “I couldn’t help but see for myself the woman able to tame something so strong.”

You chuckle at his words, bite your lower lip and stare into his eyes as he stands in front of you. You take the chance to do as he had done to you and run your eyes up and down his body. He’s afraid you’ll be discouraged by his legs, but that thought disappears as quickly as it appears when your eyes shoot back up to lock with his as you take another step forward. “You and I both know that is not the whole truth,” you whisper in a low voice as you drop your arms to your sides.

His face drops and his heart skips a beat as your lips stretch into a smile. “Don’t worry. You’re not the first man to get hard at the sight of me taming wild stallions,” you laugh as you turn to walk away. “Or to fantasize. I understand,” you add, standing beside your bed and to pick up a necklace on the pillow, a medallion of your father’s crest hanging on the chain.

“Really?” Ivar questions, intrigued about how you know this without having even met you.

You hum, turn to face him again as you rest your hand on the medallion and turn your body to him. “My mother told me something very important before I became a woman,” you begin, luring him closer as you glance down to your hands and smile innocently to yourself. Ivar can’t help stepping forward in curiosity. “She said that some men like to imagine themselves as the horse a woman tames. It’s the reason my father fell in love with her. Because he saw himself as that mighty steed my mother once rode, trying to make it submit to her, trying to overpower and already powerful creature. And sometimes, that’s what a man wants,” you explain, making Ivar’s skin erupt into goosebumps as he stops right in front of you.

“She told me, some men want a woman to try and break them. Tell me, King Ivar, is that what you wanted when you saw me?” you ask, taking that final step forward as your hands reach up to rest on his chest.

He reaches up as well, to touch the side of your face as he leans slightly closer. Shaking his head, he holds his stare with you, making your heart racing like a team of horses as his eyes flicker down to your lips. “No. When I saw you on that horse, I didn’t want you to try and break me. Because I cannot be broken,” he whispers, your bottom lip tucking in between your teeth as he leans closer even more and drops the crutch to the ground. “I wanted the power I saw from you. Your strength, your determination.”

A breath catches in your throat as he moves his hand to rest around your neck, your lips popping out from between your teeth as you smell that warm, earthy smell on him. “I want you to ride me like you ride your horse,” he growls, his breath hitting your face before his lips crash over yours.

Moaning into his mouth as you let his tongue in, your fingers grip his tunic tightly - like reins - and you turn him so he can sit on your bed. His hands slip under the sheer nightgown and run up those thighs he’s been thinking about since Hvitserk mentioned them. He can feel your muscles constricting and relaxing as you shift to adjust your position, grinding your body against his as you kiss him deeply.

As you pull the tunic off over his head and break the kiss, you stare into his eyes as you try to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. His hands continue to rise up your body, pulling your nightgown with it before he lifts it over your head, leaving you naked in front of him.

“I ride rough,” you softly mention as his hands run back down your body, over your breasts making a tingle run through your body.

Ivar hums as he drops his face in the bend of your neck to kiss your skin, making you breathe out a shaky sigh and grip his shoulders. “I cannot be broken,” he reminds, muttering his words against your skin before biting it.

Before he can leave a mark, you push him down onto his back and keep your hands on his chest as you stare down at him with the same look in your eyes as you had before walking into the ring to ride your horse. “We’ll see about that,” you murmur, running your hands down to his pants to free the hard cock you’ve felt growing as he kissed you.

He smiles wickedly up at you, helps you untie the laces of his pants and stops you from pushing them all the way off. Maybe, if he gives you a bit of a challenge, a goal to get him full naked, it will make you come back for more and this won’t just be a one-time thing.

Wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, he pulls you down for another kiss, this one full of lust and carnal need. Rolling your hips against his, you make his moan at the friction between you and he breaks the kiss to focus on what he wants most.

Just like he had imagined it, your legs come either side of his as you sit upright, your hands on his chest as you raise yourself above him, his fingers digging into your thighs to slowly, slowly, bring you down onto his cock.

As you stretch around him, your mouth falls open as you take in a sharp breath, your head falling back as you let out a moan at the feeling of him filling you up perfectly. He watches as a tremble runs through your body before you start to rock your hips, your head falls forward so you can lock your gaze with his.

He thrusts up into you as he remembers your horse bucking when you rode him moments ago, the action making you gasp and your body to jerk as your nails dig into his chest. The mischievous look in his eyes makes you smile and laugh as you shake your head. “If you’re going to behave like that then,” you whisper, leaning down to press your body to his as you tease his lips with a kiss.

Groaning as you rock against him, your pace picking up slowly, he grabs a fist full of your tight meat and bucks his hips against you, making a moan fall from your lips. “That’s better,” he says to himself, but you chuckle at his words and push yourself up again.

Grinding down on him as a way to try and tell him to stop bucking, you feel pleasure starting to grow in your stomach. You almost want to break him. Right now, he could walk out of your room after this and go fuck some other girl if he wanted to. But you want him to stay thinking about you, wanting you. You want him to come to you, just as the horse you trained does. You want him to be yours.

As he thrusts again, you scrap your nails down his chest, pulling out a hiss from him as he grips your hips tightly. And that’s when he starts working with you.

Instead of wildly bucking his hips when he feels like it, he decides to roll with your movements. He watches you as you back arches, your riding becoming harder, and your walls clench around him as he scratches your thighs as you did his chest.

He wants all of a sudden turn you around and fuck you into the furs over the bed. But perhaps he’ll do that later. He wants to carry on with this, with you riding him, moving with his rough hips snaps, moaning out his name and panting in pleasure. He wants to finish dragging your hips in the movement he wants, feel you struggle against him, try to tame him to do what you want. He wants to finish seeing you try to make him submit to your ways.

“Oh, Gods,” you curse, throwing your head back as your break, letting him decide the pace and going with his movement. Because sometimes, in order to not fall off your horse, you need to go with his movements.

You feel his cock twitch inside you, ready for his release. And you can’t hold your pleasure back any longer. “Ivar, I-” A moan stops you from speaking as your pleasure explodes inside your, making every part of your feel light.

Ivar curses at the feeling of your legs clenching as he spills his seed into you, just like how he pictured when Hvitserk made that comment about your legs. Your fucking legs. Now that he thinks of it, he probably wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for that comment.

Falling to his chest, panting and in a daze, your legs tremble slightly when Ivar softly strokes them with his fingers. Turning your gaze up to his face, you smirk as he glances down at you with a proud smirk to say that he was right to you not being able to break him.

But little does he know, it takes more than one ride to break a stud.

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#ivar smut #ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar ragnarsson #vikings ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar's heathen army #king ivar #ivar the boneless smut #ivar imagine #ivar the boneless imagines #vikings #history vikings #vikings smut

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

Text

A Cure for Insomnia Ch 20

You find yourself in a forest

Odd when did you get here? Had you walked here? Driven? You...you can't seem to remember. How on Earth did you get here?

(The contents of this chapter are sexual in nature please don’t interact if you are below the age of 18)

Oh Gods you hoped you didn't have an episode while driving again. Even under normal circumstances just the thought upsets you but after finding out Toby's life changing accident the thought now left an acidic taste in your mouth. Similar to when you're sick and have the residual vomit in your mouth no matter how many times you brush your teeth. A very unpleasant experience.

A tall figure looms in the distance taking you out of your musings. You've seen him before, haven't you? Long spindly tendrils stretch out from behind the figure, much like the whisps that led you through the shop the other day. Had it not been for their serpent like movements you'd have thought the being was just another tree in this dense dark forest.

This sure didn't look like the Monongahela. You close your eyes for a moment, just resting your eyes. Your head feels so foggy right now.

You're so tired too, have you been sleeping? When was the last time you slept? Why can't you remember?

It's fine calm down, you just need to think. The fog is so thick, it's hard to focus. Why can't you just focus?

Come on YN, you need to focus, focus, focus!

In an instant that figure is right in front of you. They are so much taller, craning your head back doesn't do much to get a good look at them. You can't make any features out on the shockingly pale face. And here you thought Toby was deathly pale, you may as well have been staring death in the face. Given the black suit and red tie you might actually be.

Being dead would explain the fogginess of your memories and why things aren't exactly connecting. Had Toby killed you? No, he wouldn't. Maybe the two of you got into an accident on the drive home.

But where's Toby then? Had he survived the crash? Is it bad to hope he's dead too? That boy wouldn't be able to handle another traumatic event. Hell he seemed one major inconvenience away from peacing out when you'd met him, he still has those moments.

Where are you going to go? This wasn't anything like you were expecting, but the again Hollywood's never given you any sort of accuracy before why would they be the ones reporting on life's biggest mystery?

A tendril slips its way around your throat tilting your head up to stare into the pale face of the figure before you. Squeezing as it does, gently not so much to actually suffocate you.

'You are not dead child, you could not be further from it.' a masculine voice echos in the empty space of you mind. The voice rang so clearly it rattled the walls of your brain.

A literal 'brain goes brrrr' moment.

If you aren't dead then...this has to be a dream. The only other explanation for why everything feels so fuzzy and you have so much brain fog.

'Correct, you are in a dream...of sorts. I've summoned you here to review your progress thus far. I must say you've far exceeded my expectations, no thanks to my failing puppet.' the tendril tightens around your neck, again not enough to choke you out. Just a very firm squeeze.

Firm enough that it has you pressing your thighs together. Haven't you taken care of this yet? This situation is so embarrassing because even though you can't see the expression of the being before you they have an omnipotent air around them.

They sense your hunger building, maybe that's why the appendage around your throat tightens once again. You're left a bit breathless.

'I'm very pleased with both of your results. A reward is in order,'

The figure's head moves slightly as their attention shifts to something behind you.

'I believe he'll benefit from this as well.'

He?

Without a moment to think anything else, not like you could in your current state, you were turned around. Where you came face to face with....another faceless entity? No the man in front of you clearly had a face – had the tall pale being not? The man's face was there but you couldn't really make out what you were looking at like it was pixelated in some way to protect his identity on the evening news.

You could see that he had a mop of brunette waves, unlike the tall one who was to your knowledge completely bald. More tendrils wrap themselves around you, on your legs and around your mid section. Legs are spread apart as you're lifted off the ground.

Open and inviting to the form before you. Just what kind of reward is this?

Before you can protest you quickly become aware of the fact that you are naked.. Bare chest on display as nipples harden in the chill of the air. You squirm to try and get away but the hold the tendrils have is too strong for you to break out of. Your legs are lifted until they are face level with the person in front of you.

Yup totally a dream, just a monster fucker having a wet dream. Normal everyday thing.

'To be quite honest it's less of a reward and more a test. But it should prove enjoyable for both of you.'

Hearing the sound of a zipper you freeze, out of shock rather than fear. You were joking when you'd called this a sex dream. You've never had one before and it's surprising to say the least. Do all sex dreams start this strangely?

A pair of fingers find their way to your mouth. Without thinking you opened up and took them in. Letting them go as far back as they could. They played with your tongue, dancing up and down it. Pressing hard here giving a rub there, shoving it between the two of them making sure your saliva coated every single spare centimeter of them.

You found it a bit difficult to breathe around them let alone swallow. They had a salty with a hint of something metallic, like he had an open paper cut. The texture was rough and very different from your own fingers, you could feel divots near the nail bed and loose hardened skin scrapping the inside of your mouth. Sometimes when you swallowed around the fingers you'd get a sharp thrust in return, like he was trying to hit the back of your throat with only his fingers. You nearly took in his pinkie like this. A harsh groan would follow and you'd moan along.

All the tendrils on your body gave a light squeeze at the show. You heard a whisper of 'Good pets.', this time it was echoed through the forest surrounding you.

“Fuck off.” the man who currently had his fingers nearly reaching down your throat growled out.

Before he he gently grabbed on of your legs, moving your body closer to him. Flutters of lips trailed their way up from your knee to your inner thigh. A playful nip stings a few inches from your core. Involuntarily your thighs press together, squishing the head in between the,. It wasn't long before you felt warm breath blow onto your core. You could hardly keep back the trill when a pair of lips wrapped around your clit and a tongue started to dance circles around it. It was a simple set of motions but ones that seemed to hit just right. You didn't know whether to be thankful or hate the tendrils for preventing you from bucking right into the pleasure.

Taking deep breaths to collect yourself didn't work if anything it made for a pseudo pant which left you even more feverish than the lapping at you clit. He flattens his tongue against you and you shudder as he slowly drags it along your slit giving a flick to the hood of you clit. He angled his tongue so he could carefully dance that line between your clit and it's hood. Toes curling you aren't able to contain yourself anymore. A panting and flushed mess as you moan around his fingers, a trail of saliva runs out from the corner of your mouth and down the expanse of your neck. You can't stop your hips as they weakly buck towards him, still stifled by the tendrils stilling them.

The man between your legs stiffens.

Even with him looking right up at you, you can't see past whatever fog is playing at your mind, but you do know that he's just as much of a mess as you are in the moment. Just from going down on you, the poor boy, now you really want to shove his face deep between your legs and not let up until he can't breathe.

Maybe you can.

Your hands haven't been bound like your legs, so you should have no problem grabbing his hair and pulling him in.

'Oh, he'd like that very much. Give it a go pet.' the disembodied voice says, once again in your head.

Wasn't there a body to go with that voice earlier? Yeah, there was, where'd he go?

Your legs are still bound by the tendrils but the tall man is no where in sight anymore. What a strange dream.

A wet dream you remember as your focus returns to the man between your legs. Might as well make the most of it.

The man seems distracted as he glares at something behind you, but you know nothing it there – you've just checked. This gives you the perfect opportunity to grab a fist full of his hair and drag him back down to your puffy lips to finish what he started. He was more than willing as he needed no further instructions and went straight to giving light kitten licks to your aching clit. Frustrated pants and whimpers leave you as he just works you up and pulls back. He's teasing at this point and seems very pleased with himself.

“Pl-please.” you keen when he pulls away for a second time. Instead of answering your plea he massages the meat of your thighs as he stares up at you from between your leg. You can see one hand in between his own legs most likely toying with his cock like he toys with you.

Just the thought of his cock has you bucking into him, but it seems to do the trick. He begins to suck on your bud again. This time you have a bit more mobility and can grind your hips down in time to his sucking. It's getting wetter and sloppier down there by the second, like he's trying to collect all the liquid in his mouth but can't really hold it there.

For a third time the pleasure stops, and you feel like crying. It's so unfair your first wet dream and you're saddled with an edger.

You let out a whimper and raise your hips again in a pathetic attempt to demand his attention back to where it's needed. While his face is still featureless to you there's a sense of smugness around him. Oh joy a sadist. A harsh spit rings through your dream bubble. But you don't feel anything land on you.

A wet squelching sound can be heard. The blood just doesn't know where to go anymore, to your face or to your core? Clearly none of it's going to your brain when you only thought it , 'Oh shit he's jerking off.' on repeat.

You're very thankful that the tendrils are just holding you up instead of keeping you spread now as you're able to squeeze and rub your thighs together. Trying to get any friction to alleviate your ache. All while you cry and choke around thick fingers.

“Pretty mouse.” his voice is a rumbled timber.

Fingers press harshly into your tongue before slowly pulling out and spreading you legs back open for him. His thumb trails your inner thigh, the nail scratching the unmarked skin as it went. Making your breath hitch in the back of your throat as he let out a breathy chuckle.

He began toying around with your folds with his two spit soaked fingers, “Yea, li-ike that? Make some more pretty noises for me.” His fingers twirled around the entrance of your pussy. Lighting the nerves on fire with each passing circle they made.

Gods, he hasn't even been in you and you're already about to cum. But he was ignoring your clit now. Snaking a hand down you settle it above his and before you can even touch it he's smacking your hand away.

“Nuh-uh mouse.” he gives a sharp smack to your bud, making you jolt as you let out a little 'eep'.

He laughs at your reaction, “Don't worry I'm going to-to-to make you feel so good.” he smirks, “in time.”

That'd be a no for you. You can take three edgings but four is just asking too much, especially for a dream. You aren't one to be bratty often but you're already pent up in the waking world like hell you'll let yourself be edged in the dream one too.

“Fuck you're cute, even when you pout.” suddenly a hand grasps your jaw and pulls you down, it's a bit uncomfortable with your bindings still in place. Your faces are just inches apart right now and you still have no clue who he's supposed to be but sometimes faces are hard for brains to make up. He could just be someone you saw in town once and don't remember.

He leans in and kisses you. It doesn't take anything for you to open your mouth and let him in, there's a hint of tang on his tongue. No discernible taste just a bit of tang. He makes sure to glide his tongue across every inch of your mouth, making sure you taste yourself. You can feel his smirk in the kiss as you moan. Can feel the pumping of his hand on his cock now that you're so close together.

The thought of his cock makes your core pulse with need. And as if he can read your thoughts he pulls away, leaving you panting and horny. “Now that's a cute look too.” The tip of his middle and ring fingers are in you spreading the ring of your entrance far apart. “But then this on-one's my favorite.”

As you writhe and moan you can't help but think of how much you hate that boyish lilt in his tone right now. He scissors his fingers and twists them this way and that, occasionally plunging them as deep into you as they can go. And while your panting and whimpers are lovely he quickly figures out that you're much more receptive to the teasing of your entrance. The way just the tips of his fingers work in lighting up hundreds of nerve endings.

How he can leave you right on the edge of orgasm only to take that away by pulling out slightly or diving in further. It's a good game, but he eventually grows bored of just your facial expressions and wants to chase his own release. So, he leans in towards your core to watch the way your walls clamp down on his finger tips as they spread you apart. Trying to squeeze around the foreign objects to eject them out but if he surges his hand forward the walls constrict in a way the feels like they are trying to suck him deeper into your depth. All the while you moan and whine, just for him.

So enraptured with your being he isn't really paying attention to you anymore. You want to end his teasing, you just want to cum. It's not surprising at all that he hardly noticed you grabbed a fist full of his hair. But he certainly notices when you pull him to your core and hold him in place. The pressure on his scalp letting him know just how tightly you have him.

There's a moment when he does nothing, just stares up at you from between you legs. Through hooded eyes he continues to make eye contact as he brings his mouth to your clit, even as you buck into him.

“Good boy.” the words just tumbled from your mouth in a moan.

One that gets echoed by the man kneeling before you. It's a needy little moan, one that changes things.

“Good boy,” he goes faster, not just on your clit but he also starts stroking himself faster.

“Ah – aaah, good boys wai-it oh – wait to cum.” his hand slows and you hear a mumbled 'Good boys wait.' causing your grip to tighten as you pull him up by his hair to look into your face – even if you can't see his.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“N-no!” you can feel the shiver that runs through him.

Big guy isn't so tough now that you found his kink, damn this dream sure is exploring a lot of your owns though.

“That's right, now you've been awfully naughty. Edging me like that. Doesn't seem like you want to be a 'good boy'.”

“I want to – want to be a good boy, very good boy.” his hand is still going, you'd honestly be surprised he hadn't cum if this weren't a dream.

“Hmm, finish what you started. Then...maybe you'll be my good boy.” a series of moans followed as he bucked into his hand. Apparently you'd said a trigger for him and he came just from that alone.

You want to find it in you to play up being upset with him maybe even play up how he wasn't a good boy after all – cumming like that. But you could tell from the way his shoulders sank in that he felt ashamed that he didn't last until you were done with him.

Sometimes a gentle hand is needed. “Oh my poor baby. I didn't know how excited that'd make you.” you cup his face gently. He's trying to make himself smaller. “Now now of that, you can make it up to me.” He perks up.

“You want to make it up to me right?” you slide back away letting you hands fall off his chin, and he follows your movement leaning to feel your touch again.

You give him a smile and stroke his cheek, “Then make me cum.” it was a breathy whisper as you took the opening to initiate a kiss with him. No tongue was involved this time just an urgent need and movement of lips.

You pull away from him and get a small whimper in return. Pay back would sure be sweet right now had he not riled you up this much then got off himself.

He's sliding back down between your legs, barely giving himself a chance to settle in before twirling his fingers just outside your entrance. Face diving to lick several long stripes along your slit.

'Seems everything is in order here. I trust you both will behave in my absence.'

“What?”

Waking up horny and unsatisfied with the fainest memory of your wet dream fading further and further from memory was definitely one way to start your Saturday. But it wasn't the preferable way or a fun one. Especially when it involved a pair of soaking panties and an hour to even satiate your needy pussy.

#a cure for insomnia #ticci toby #ticcitoby #ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby x reader #creepypasta fanfic #masky x reader #Timothy Wright #timothy wright x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #masky #Brian Thomas #brian thomas x reader

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saint-eridell · 4 years

Text

A Silent Prayer (Midoriya Izuku/F!Reader)

I… honestly don't know how this happened. The words just kinda came out. I didn't start out intending to write a slow burn saga, but that's apparently what my brain decided to do with it. Might continue the series at some point, to be honest; this whole universe has its hooks into me.

Collab piece for @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten's Citrus Dome server collaboration. 15k, completed, proofread, no beta. Pairings: Dryad!Midoriya Izuku/Human!Reader, Human!Toshinori Yagi/Dryad!Midoriya Inko Prompt: Gods Content warnings: Background character death, non-con (very brief, not explicit)

Read on AO3

Quick Guide (ctrl-F to jump)

Prologue

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

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Prologue

Your village's clearing, while spacious enough to afford room for a small population, is essentially cut off from the outside world by the dense verdant wall that circles it on all sides. One of two paths out leads toward a well-maintained temple where the locals (and rare traveler) leave offerings to the Fae that populate the forest, and one leads out to the nearest trading post… which lies a week's away ride on a speedy horse. This clearing of hand-built homes and ancient looking shops is the only thing you've known. Your studies as a temple attendant began young, before you could even comprehend what you were training to do, and have kept you attached to the village with zero chance of travel.

That has suited you just fine so far. From what the hunters talk about seeing in the forest… you'd rather stay alive than "sightsee".

The first thing you're taught in your village is to respect the forest. Even the youngest of your people know not to step in Fae circles, or follow strange sets of eyes in the dark, or listen to any voices that come trickling out of the treeline on quiet nights. The Fae could be immensely giving, but they're fickle creatures on a good day and absolutely dangerous at their worst. Contact with any roaming Fae, regardless of the type or how friendly it seems, has long been banned among your people. Your job as an attendant, despite a common misconception that you have direct contact with beasts and monsters, is to maintain the temple, greet travelers, and meditate among the many gardens built within the temple walls.

Worship is a part of your daily routine. Each season you place the fruits of your labor at the altar. Every day you pray. It’s human nature, seeking answers from the Gods.

But you never expected one to answer… much less three times.

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Part 1

The first time is after a terrible fire that razes half of the village during your first year of training. A roaming wyvern tears through the fields surrounding its back half in a fury, razing an entire cluster of homes and over half of the summer crops already suffering through a prolonged drought. The village finds itself in disarray amid the smoldering remains: one half wants to burn the temple in retaliation, seeing the wyvern as an omen that some Fae lord is on the warpath, while the other seeks to gather what remained of the crops as one final beseechment to whoever or whatever they'd angered.

Having just been initiated, your young mind goes directly to one of your first lessons: true offerings are of the heart. In your barely school age mind, that means offering something that means a lot to you. After some consideration you narrow it down - your favorite doll, a gift from a mother you never had the chance to know - and take it to the temple. You find a quiet altar to lay the doll down upon, and as soon as you find your knees to begin praying before it you catch sight of a boy hovering behind the marble pedestal.

His head is wrapped in emerald linen, but it rounds off enough to suggest there's densely packed hair underneath. A single curl peeks out at the center of his forehead, somehow even deeper than the rich dyed fabric over it, its point resting between huge green eyes that seem to peer right down to your very soul. It would be eerie if he wasn't smiling at you with a gap where one tooth should be, a bright beam of sunshine in an otherwise rather gloomy marble-lined room.

"Is that a doll?" he asks, and his voice chirps with the same excitement of the first few birds that poke out of the melting winter snow. You nod, frozen with trained hesitation that wars with your naive curiosity - he doesn't look familiar, nor does he look like the child of anyone who had recently come through the village. But he doesn't look dangerous to you. He's barely as tall as you, and he smiles too nice to be a threat… right?

You open your mouth to call for your matron but the boy holds both hands up suddenly, his eyes somehow widening even further with a bolt of fear. "Wait," he whispers. "I'm not supposed to be here. I heard people praying and snuck away from my mother." He tilts his head. "Did you sneak away from your mom, too?"

You shake your head in response. "I live here," you explain quietly, matching his hushed tone. "I'll work in the temple one day. I came here to offer my doll so our fields will come back."

The boy's face splits into a grin. "Does that mean I'll get to see you again?"

You aren't given time to answer: a sharp voice echoes into the room from somewhere beyond the open door, growing louder by the second as someone approaches. You turn your head to listen until a quiet shuffling brings your attention back to the boy, who's moved around the altar and taken the doll in one hand. He quickly tugs off the linen wrap covering his head and thrusts it toward you. You struggle to grasp it, shocked by a pair of tiny antler nubs that poke through the curls on the top of the boy’s head... or Fae’s rather. There’s no mistaking the point of his upper ears. "Here," he whispers urgently. "It's my favorite, so be careful with it. Wrap it around some ashes from your burned crops and bury it in the middle of the field." He waves as he steps back with another one of those beaming smiles, your doll clutched tight to his chest. "I promise I'll keep your doll safe. Maybe we can play next time!"

You blink, and as quick as he appeared he's gone. Matron Elspeth, a short and round woman with more than enough years in the temple to justify her limited patience (and the woman in charge of your temple training), appears behind you the second he’s gone. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she snaps as she grabs you by the upper arm and hauls you toward the door. “We’re convening the-

You dig your heels into the floor. “Wait!” you exclaim with all the assertiveness your tiny voice can muster. “I have something!”

The matron stops to glare down at you. You hold up the linen like it’s a prized tapestry. “A boy appeared in here and gave this to me. I brought my doll as an offering and he gave this to me.”

The matron’s brows knit deep between her eyes. “And you took it?”

You nod eagerly, but you aren’t prepared to see such a terrifying old woman blanch like she just witnessed a murder. She stops you both in the hallway, all sense of urgency abandoned, a wrinkled hand held to the wall as she breathes out a long, ragged sigh. “Oh, child,” she murmurs. “I don’t think you realize what you’ve just done.” She gives you a smile that’s softer than anything you’ve ever seen from her, and it’s disarming enough to have you stunned silent. Isn’t she supposed to be rapping you across the knuckles with her willow switch? “He was Fae, wasn’t he?”

You nod slowly, your excitement slowly twisting into pangs of dread. “I didn’t give him my name,” you burst out after a sudden realization - of course she’s worried, she thinks you just signed yourself away to the forest. What was the first thing she’d taught you? You wave your hands in front of you defenselessly, the scarf flapping back and forth. “I only said the doll was my favorite, and that I’d brought it as an offering. He said this headscarf was his favorite and that I should bury it in the field wrapped around some ashes from the crops and -”

“Eeeeeeasy,” Elspeth chides gently. She lowers herself to a knee to put herself on eye level with you, both hands wrapped around your shoulders. “You did the right thing. I wouldn’t have expected someone so small to learn our ways as quickly as you have.” She holds her hand out for the scarf and you hand it over. She turns it over gently, running her fingers over the seams with a pensive hum. “And you say he told you to bury it?”

“In the field, wrapped around ashes from the burned crops."

“And you absolutely did not give him your name?”

You shake your head fervently. “He didn’t even ask for it.”

Elspeth’s frown deepens. “Curious.” She rises slowly to her feet with a wince as both knees audibly crack under her shifting weight. You grab her arm to help her stay upright as she rests a hand on the wall once again with a low groan. “I’m getting too old for this,” she grouses. “You need to hurry up and grow already so I can hand off the robes.” Her wrinkled hand takes one of yours as she leads the way toward the temple’s main hall. “Tell me more about the boy.”

You go through everything you can remember - same height, pale freckled skin, lots of green curls, big eyes… “Oh, and horns,” you add on.

Elspeth stops you both at the end of the last hall. Several groups of people in various temple garb hover in the large foyer beyond, but your matron turns your back to them with both hands on your shoulders. She bends low at the waist to stare you down from only a few inches away. “Horns?” she hisses.

You nod, confused by the sudden change in her demeanor. “Tiny ones,” you reply. “Like when the young bucks grow their first set at the beginning of summer. I didn’t see them or his ears until after he gave me his scarf.”

Elspeth goes quiet for several seconds, her gaze averted to the throng behind you, and just as you open your mouth to question if she’s okay she’s steering you around and through the crowd with a purpose. “We need to speak to the temple Ascendant,” she urges quietly. “This is beyond both of us now, little one.”

---

Part 2

You hadn’t been approached by just any run-of-the-mill forest creature. If you really had experienced the entire moment (which the linen basically proved without a shadow of a doubt despite your own dumbfounded disbelief), you’d come across a young dryad. Or rather, he’d found you, which is an incredible occurrence in itself: dryads are known for being among the most reclusive of Fae, preferring to live in their heavily altered pockets of the forest where only their kind can survive. According to the ancient lore they’re protectors of a vast plane beyond the one humans live in, a vanguard of Fae hidden among life-providing vegetation and deceptively thick forest floor in wait for someone or something to come along and threaten their territory. The tomes in the temple library are filled with tales from “survivors” of attacks by wandering dryads, all telling of razor sharp teeth and sickly green skin and a heathenly worship of the old gods that on its own warrants avoiding them at all costs.

But in the whirlwind following your encounter with the young Fae, something becomes glaringly obvious: no one wants to talk about who had provided the linen that saved them all, despite it successfully bringing back their fields during a single earth-shaking rainstorm and assuring a solid harvest that would more than provide through the winter. All the villagers flock to the temple with offerings by the basket, but no one wants to acknowledge who had actually saved them. That reality sticks with you like a sharp thorn, as does the dryad boy’s hauntingly sweet voice as you grow older within the temple walls, your studies growing more intense by the year. By the time you reach adulthood, you’re actively involved with just about every aspect of temple life. You’ve grown popular among your fellow attendants and the temple-goers alike, even the ones who seem reluctant to be there at all. Your easy-going demeanor and disarming smile is able to diffuse even the staunchest of cynicism. You have, for all intents, and purposes, become the shining example of everything Matron Elspeth raised you to be. Nothing in this world makes you prouder than knowing you're on the way to earning her robes… and maybe, at some time in the future, the temple Ascendant's.

You remain faithful to your doctrine, but in the dead of night every full moon you pray that he’ll come back. You’ve had years to think about it: if you give him a “given” name, he’ll have to use that. It’s not yours, so he won’t own you. Dryads are attracted to beehives, presumably for the same reason pixies are attracted to berry bushes (an almost impulsive sweet tooth) so you’re ready with a clump of the temple’s finest honeycomb every time the moon reaches its largest point.

But despite your increasingly saddened prayers and offers over the years, no sign of him or any other dryads appear. There are rumors of the occasional peculiar looking traveler with big green eyes, but your temple work prevents you from wandering into the village unless it’s on a designated supply pickup day. Elspeth tells you to forget him and focus on your studies every time she catches you quietly moping: “We can’t have our future Ascendant being wooed away by some doe-eyed boy, regardless of if he’s human or not.”

On the evening after your confirmation and the following party, once you’ve returned from the village and gathered up your usual prayer supplies, you make your way to your favorite altar in the temple as the moon finds its highest point in the sky above. The room’s roof has been removed to give a full view of the sky for astral worship, but you prefer it for the way it allows moonlight to fill the center with a skirt of fading dark that swallows the edges of the room. It’s easier to focus here, to lay yourself bare before whatever force that lays beyond the clearing’s edge and let it speak through the beams of light emanating from above.

Elspeth disapproves of your “fixation”, but doesn't argue back when you request privacy for the rest of the evening. Your birthday this present is in the form of your matron keeping all wandering staff away from your prayer room, and that seems perfectly fair to you. You’ve already made plans to repay her empathy with a few of her favorite lemon pastries.

You lay out the contents of the basket hanging from your arm across the marble altar’s polished surface: green and gold candles, several lengths of high quality gold pendant chain, a large bowl of fresh, sticky honeycomb and an ornate goblet full of a rare winterberry mead you were given by the lead hunter’s son (“For the day you get free of that prison and decide to marry”, he’d boasted... his mistake, you’re keeping the mead and he can choke on the cork).

In the center goes a hand-sized velvet pillow upon which you set an emerald big enough to fill your palm. It had taken three years to save up enough for it, but in your eyes it’s the best thing you’ve ever bought. The moonlight dancing off the lines of the gem’s depths flicker and dance exactly like the Fae’s eyes had so many years ago. You pause to take in the sight, transfixed by the shifting planes that white themselves out before immediately shifting to deep green and then to inky black when you tilt your head.

A slight breeze rattling through the room snaps you from your reverie. You glance upward where the moon hangs directly overhead, a wide white circle set deep into an array of scattered stars and inky skyspace beyond. A vivid memory of pale skin dotted with freckles flashes across your mind’s eye and you have to force yourself to redirect to the present, shaking your head hard as the breeze fades away. “Focus,” you murmur to yourself. You don’t have long before the moon will move away from the center of the open roof.

Once the candles are lit, several cones of musky incense set into miniature cauldrons come next, wisps of pungent smoke permeating every dark corner of the room within seconds. You kneel before the altar once everything is in place with your plain white robes folding neatly under you. As you take your first deep breath, the incense fills your nose and drowns out anything beyond it; a hazy blanket hovers thick and heavy in your sinuses, even after you exhale.

This is an easy process for you. You've long mastered how to find your own meditative headspace through years of disciplined practice. You let the chirping of bugs beyond the temple echo around your ears, your breathing slow and light. You tilt your closed eyes up toward where you can vaguely tell the glow of the moon is strongest. "I have no crisis," you say in your head. "I seek no power, no glory, no riches. I only wish to see my friend again." A deep sense of peace radiates down to your bones as you let out a slow breath. The entire room comes to a standstill, even the wind seemingly reverent of your descent toward the lowest floor of your headspace. If you go any further, you feel like you could slip right through the floor.

"We're friends, eh?"

Your eyes fly open as a shriek tears through you, every semblance of calm shattered. You kick yourself backward and the cushion you'd been kneeling on flying forward to bounce off the ornate carving set into the front of the pedestal. You skitter in the opposite direction, prepared to take off running down the hall and find the first guard you come across, when you stop dead with your hands planted to the cold marble floor.

It's him.

The dryad boy is standing in the same spot he'd appeared in last time, smiling at you with that same beaming grin. Or… it looks like him, at least. He's taller now, but he still looks to be around your height, maybe just an inch or so taller. It's obvious he's been up to something strenuous: his tunic sleeves cut off around defined upper arms, where you can spot an array of thin scars set into his pale, freckled skin. He's dressed in emerald traveler garb, a linen wrap identical to the one he'd given wrapped loosely around his neck, and as you look further up you choke on a gasp.

You hadn't been hallucinating all those years ago. The tiny antler nubs he'd been sporting before have grown fivefold and now branch over his head in tall, proud spikes that circle his hair like a jagged halo. He seems to catch what your eyes lock onto and he dips his head, a scarred hand reaching to clutch at the fabric draped around his neck like he wants to throw it up over his head. "I'm sorry," he says quietly, and you're immediately floored by how achingly familiar the lilt of his voice is. You've heard it in your dreams enough to know it's him. "I didn't mean to scare you that bad."

You push yourself up to your feet with an indignant huff. "Scare me that bad?" you grumble back as you dust yourself off and right your robes.

He laughs again, light as air. Your anger slips away at the sound despite your best attempt to hold onto it. You're not some shrinking violet, dammit. "I had to take the opportunity when it presented itself," he replies through a fond smile. "Couldn't help myself."

You huff your disapproval, which gets you another chuckle. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he says as he takes a step forward with his hands raised in a show of surrender. "No more scares, I promise." He fixes you with another beaming smile. "Happy birthday. I'm here now."

Your heart flips sideways into your ribs. He'd really heard you. But if he could hear you tonight…

"Why didn't you come any other time I prayed?" you ask before you can consider the implications of your query. You slap a hand over your mouth. "I'm sorry," you say quickly from behind your palm. "I don't mean to say I expected you to listen or appear, I just…"

The dryad fixes you with a concerned frown. "You just what?" he asks back without a trace of anger, which catches you off guard. "I'm not gonna cut your tongue out or anything. You didn't offend me."

You let out your held breath in one hard burst. Thank every god in existence. You pause, waiting to make sure he really isn't angry and just playing head games, then proceed with only a tiny tremble: "I just hoped you would."

Something akin to pain dances across his face and you immediately regret your admission for reasons you can't quite figure out. "I'm sorry," you exclaim again, but he holds up a finger before you can try to babble through a reason why.

"It's not easy for my kind to survive here," he says with a solemnity that draws the entire room to a standstill. "The air is too dry for ones who haven't acclimated to it. I'll admit, the first time I tried I got incredibly sick upon returning home." His gaze flicks to the span of marble between your feet. "But I've been practicing. I should be able to stay a few hours now." He finds your eye again and the sincerity behind them smashes into you like a cannonball. How could anyone ever say his kind are hideous? Is it the antlers?

"If you'll have me, that is."

Oh gods above, below, and in gran's cookbooks. "Of course," you breathe back without hesitation.

His smile returns, wide and genuine, bright enough to narrow the room to just him alone. "I was hoping you would say that." He bows politely, his traveler's cloak brushing the floor as it sweeps back. "I'm sorry, I didn't have a chance to introduce myself before. May I have your name?"

A caustic jolt rushes up the length of your spine. Every hair on your body raises at the root as you cut a glare in his direction. Oh no no no, you didn't go through an entire childhood of Matron Elspeth's lectures to fall for his ruses that easily, no matter how hard he makes your stomach flutter. "No you may not," you say back with practiced ease. He sits up abruptly to give you another wounded look, but you're too on guard for it to work. "I'm sorry." You really aren't.

He huffs a laugh. "Fair play. I should have known better. May I have a name to address you by?"

You've trained for this your entire life. In no way is he going to get you. "No you may not," you say again. "But I was born under a sparrow's first nest." A meaningless fact that would at least lead him toward something you'll answer to without naming you directly. Elspeth is going to be so proud.

He hums, seemingly picking up your subtle lead. "Sparrow, then," he confirms. "It suits you."

You clear your throat as the collar of your robe shifts against your reddening neck. You can't hold eye contact and keep your flush contained so you opt for the former while your hands clasp respectfully behind your back. You're an anointed temple servant. You won't be reduced to a pile of girlish mush in your own temple. "Thank you," you reply with a polite bow. "And is there a known name I may refer to you by?"

"Deku," he chirps back. "You could have just asked. I'm not as picky with my known name as you humans seem to be."

You straighten up with a placid smile. "Can you blame me?"

Deku shrugs. "I mean, a little," he replies with an honesty that almost knocks you backward again. "I've seen the records humans keep on us. The way your "beastmasters" talk makes us sound like feral crypt monsters."

You catch the bitterness in his tone and squirm on the spot. You hadn't meant any insult. "We've had a lot of people killed by dryads over the years," you reply as gently as you can. "And even more that have disappeared around the same time one was seen. The people here are just fearful."

"Fear doesn't excuse ignorance." His jaw flexes and your frame draws tight with tension. He takes a slow breath as he pauses, and his anger visibly recedes. "But you haven't taken off running yet, so I guess it's safe to assume you're not as ignorant as the others."

Your voice drops to a murmur when you respond. "I remember what you did for us. We would have starved the winter after that fire if you hadn't brought our crops back."

"Thank my dad for that. It was his idea. He couldn't make the trip himself, so he sent my mom and I with instructions."

The pieces click into place with a weight that knocks the wind from your lungs. Deku watches you ponder as he steps around the altar and perches on its edge. "You didn't just save us. You risked your life to do it. But… why?"

"Because you asked me to-" He plucks the goblet and gives it an appreciative sniff. "-And you brought a worthy offering to go with it." He sips the mulled wine with a deep groan of approval. At least the idiot who'd been hitting on you throughout the entire celebration has good taste in booze. "Winterberries?" You nod, and he takes a longer sip before offering you the goblet. You take it with pride as he traces his thumb over his lower lip to catch a stray drop (don't stare don't stare don't stare don't stare). "Gods, this is fantastic. I hope your meadery has put in offerings, because they deserve whatever they were asking for."

You go to take a sip as he continues his praise, but another bolt of anxiety keeps you from raising the cup all the way to your lips. This isn't a directly outlawed interaction (you can't recall a rule that says you're not allowed to share an offering, as far as you can remember); however, something still feels… ominous about accepting such an offer. Or maybe you're just being paranoid. The lore books also said dryads instinctively kill humans on sight.

His features darken at your hesitation. "I can guarantee that I've already got a tolerance if you just tried to slip me something," he spits out with a mix of anger and raw hurt. The venom in his tone paralyzes you with fear and for a long moment all you can do is stare at him with wide eyes. You swallow around your dry tongue as you struggle to formulate a disarming response.

"It's not like that," you finally say back with the goblet held in both shaky hands. You raise it for a prolonged sip and make a display of showing that you actually took a drink, which seems to assuage his anxiety as much as it does yours, the mead warming your throat and chest as it settles in a warm ball somewhere deep in your core. The Hammerbar meadery doesn't mess around with the efficiency of their products, apparently. "See? If there's something in it now you'll know."

Deku shakes his head. "Then let's hope it's just mead. I'm sorry. I don't think you'd do that." He turns away to pick at the honeycomb and pops a corner into his mouth, which is received with another appreciative noise from deep in his chest.

The conversation is light and easy from the very beginning. He's young for his kind with double your lifespan ahead of him, maybe longer if he "ascends" (a term that has you both laughing in solidarity as you commiserate on your respective mentors). After a good hour of chatting a silence finally lapses between you, the buzz of cicadas filling the space as Deku picks up the last chunk of honeycomb. You sit at the altar's base, just within touching range of the leg he has dangling over the edge of the pedestal, his eerie green eyes trained on you with the sharpness of a royal blade.

He's ethereal in close range. The air around him carries a drift of something wild and feral, like an inaudible drumbeat that thumps in time with your heart.

"Do I make you nervous?"

That feels like a loaded question if you've ever heard one. He seems to pick up on your hesitation once again and tilts his head, his lips parted slightly around a faint smile that makes your heart skip a beat. "No," you reply, but it's a hollow projection. Deku raises a brow, a clear sign he caught your lie.

"Uh… maybe a little. You said it yourself, human understanding of your kind is apparently woefully inaccurate." Which bothers you a lot. You're one of the people responsible for interpreting every tome in the archive. How much else do humans have wrong?

Deku nods. "I know it's not very helpful, but we don't hate humans. The elders pity your lack of connection to wild magic, but that's a sentiment that's fading with the younger generations."

"And what do you think of us?"

The Fae pauses, his head tilted askew as he ponders your question. You have the urge to take it back before he replies suddenly, his teeth flashing in a grin that makes your stomach flip and promptly fall into your feet:

"I don't care about other humans. I care about you."

You swallow hard. You're completely unprepared for the weight of his tone. It's all you can do to remember to breathe normally as panic and excitement go to all-out war. You're vaguely aware that you've been warned about this: Fae rely on glamour magic to conceal their true selves while among humans. The closer you are to one and the longer you spend there, the more likely you are to fall for it. This isn't him, you say to yourself in a firm tone. You're seeing a spell. And yet you remain rooted to the spot amid the molasses-thick silence, his emerald eyes transfixed on you like he's trying to bore himself right down to your soul. Logic is no longer enough to make yourself move, to speak, to do anything but watch him with deep fascination. Part of you doesn't want to move at all, and you're vaguely aware that your lack of fear should probably be some kind of warning sign.

He suddenly pushes himself off the altar and lands on his feet, cat-like and eerily graceful, his hand extended to help you up as well. You take it and are immediately shocked by how rough his palm is under your fingers. He doesn't look old enough to have gone through years of hard labor, but his hands tell a completely different story. You frown at your palms where they're flattened together, his weathered fingers draped gently around the side of your hand. He radiates heat like a stone dock in summer. Even with a foot or two between you, you have to wrestle down the urge to step closer and draw yourself into the warmth that surrounds him.

He leans far enough to get your attention and flashes you another dazzling smile (you're not insane, he can't feel even warmer now how is that even possible). "I have a present for you," he chirps. A hand disappears into his satchel and reappears a moment later with a long piece of rich emerald silk. You can't help but beam until your cheeks ache: the delicate gold embroidery along its edges is identical to what is on the linen scarf you've held onto for all these years. The delicate silk threads are woven into a river of shiny deep green that pools around your fingers in feather-light ripples. It's clearly worth more than anything you've ever owned and everything you currently own combined, adding an extra level of surreal that has your head slightly spinning.

"I embroidered it myself," he says, pride radiating through his words. He holds it up with an encouraging nod toward you. "May I?"

It takes your brain a few seconds to catch up with what's happening, but when it does you nod slowly. He closes the gap between you in one slow step and oh, you aren't ready for the scent of earth and pine that radiates from him and the crackle of something intangible that hits you like a mallet once you're nearly standing chest to chest.

The scarf is draped over your shoulders in a single flourish. He secures it in an ornate knot at your throat, his knuckles dragging little brushes of electricity across your skin as you do your best to stay still. Gods, whatever glamour he's using is powerful because he's absolutely breathtaking this close. The freckles you remember from so many years ago are still there, softened by the slight tan of his cheeks but still a pronounced constellation under his soft eyes as he smiles down at you with a mind-nymbing warmth.

"Green is your color," he murmurs close enough for you to feel his breath ghosting across your throat. Your heart flies upward and, on a whim you can't wrestle down, you reach for his hand once again to deftly slide your fingers between his. Deku jumps, clearly startled, but he makes no move to pull away or retreat. In fact, he gives your hand a squeeze in return that makes every hair on your body stand on its end. He draws even closer, pressing out every bit of air between you. Your interwoven hands are guided to between your chests, the breeze and ambient noise from outside coming to a dead standstill.

"I never forgot you," he rumbles, eyes half-lidded from the close proximity. "Not for a second."

"I dreamed about you," you whisper back, and the last few inches between you are gone in an instant. You draw in synchronized inhales as a surprisingly strong set of arms wraps around your back. Your own thread around his waist to clutch at the Fae and keep him pressed close with a sudden flash of desperation. He seems to be of the same mind: he kisses you with a ferocity you've never known, demanding and insistent enough that your lungs' cries for oxygen go willfully ignored. When you finally rip apart it's with another unified inhale and a wonble as the world spins on its ear. You can feel yourself grinning despite the shock still numbing out your brain.

A Fae kissed you… and you kissed him back without hesitation. There's something unsaid in the room now and it hangs heavy in his stare, which has once again fixated upon you with trickles of gold dancing along the edges of deep green. You quietly gasp. You've never seen feral magic this close. Shouldn't you be afraid by now?

"Come with me," he breathes out of nowhere. Your knees just about give out from shock. What?

"I'm serious." He holds both your hands under his chin. "I can give you things you don't even know exist. Anything you want, I'll make it happen."

You gape back. It's the sort of dramatic offer you read about in children's books, but never in a thousand years did you think you'd really be offered something like this. "Deku…"

"I know it's a lot," he blurts out. "You've spent your whole life here and I would never want to separate you from the world you know, but if I can find you in the same spot twice I'm sure we can find a way to go back and forth -"

Something in you decided the second he asked. There's no question what your heart wants. You press in again while he's rambling to cut him off with another firm kiss. Deku grunts into it as he's forcibly quieted before a hand gently cradles the back of your head.

You pull away with less ferocity this time and hover in his space, hazy with giddiness. "I didn't say no," you whisper, unable to bring yourself to speak any louder. "But there are things that need to be done in the meantime. I have duties here, Deku."

"We can figure out how to do both," he replies with rapidly growing excitement. The thin gold veins around his irises have begun to overtake the emerald. Your heart thunders as his excitement edges on feral. "Please just consider it. If you want, I can come back this same time next year and we can figure it out from there."

A year seems long enough to your addled brain. "Sure," you wheeze. "One year from tonight."

"One year." Deku nods furtively, but as he lets go of you it's obvious you're not the only one who hates having to do it. He looks to the floor, then to the darkest corner of the room where he'd appeared, then back to you with a smile too heavy for the ones you're used to. "I'll be watching over you. The embroidery of that scarf is kind of powerful, so I'd be careful wearing it around anyone or anything that might pull it."

You look to the fabric tied around your neck and your frown deepens. "What's that supposed to -"

Too late. By the time you look up again he's gone, and the altar in front of you is empty.

---

Part 3

You hold his promise close to your heart and don't breathe a single word of it to anyone, even your mentor. Elspeth would have an absolute fit if she figured out you're planning on not only leaving the temple, but running off with a dryad of all things. And besides that, she doesn't deserve the disrespect of knowing all her years of effort might go to waste. You can't bring yourself to face that very real chance just yet.

You stick to your studies and daily duties as your matron's hearth declines through the year, and nearly a year to the day since Deku's last visit the inevitable comes. Matron Elspeth passes in her sleep with you at her side, holding her hand while humming her favorite hymns until you see her chest rise and fall for the last time. She lived to a blessedly old age, but that doesn't help the fierce tear of grief that rips you open when she's finally gone. Elspeth was essentially your mother along with being your mentor.

And beyond that, if it hadn't been for her, you would have never met Deku.

You head up the organization of her final ceremonies, as is your place. Her pyre is constructed along the edge of the clearing's small lake, a neatly organized stack of wood and highly flammable fabric from the temple with a gap in the middle for her remains. You make sure to include clippings from her favorite lavender box as a final personal farewell.

The pyre is set ablaze with your own torch. This is how it has to be. It's how she sent her mentor off, and it will be how your mentor sends you off as well. You can only hope you've given her the honor she deserves, every decision you've made considered.

You make your way back to the temple alone at sunset while the other attendants remain behind. You need time to think. You've spent every quiet moment that day crying alone. If you don't get a second of true isolation you're going to break in front of half the temple. Elspeth wouldn't like that. You're stronger than your grief, at least for the moment, so you make a beeline for your preferred prayer room and let your feet move in that direction on autopilot, emerald scarf drawn up around your cheeks. You hold it close and will yourself to remain calm until there's a door between you and the rest of the world.

You're running by the time you throw yourself into the altar room and shove the door closed behind you. It lands in its frame with a thunderous BANG that muffles the broken sob that cracks from between the hands you have clutched over your face, along with the shuffling of a second person in the room that had gone unnoticed while you were trying to escape everyone else. A boot heel slides along the marble floor and you whirl around, eyes wide as you peer through the strands of summer dusk that pour through the room's open roof. Your heart flies into your throat with a burst of excitement. "Deku?" you call out, shaking with the urge to throw yourself toward the person as he emerges from the darkest shadowed corner.

But it's not Deku. Elation flips to horror as the lead hunter's son appears with a lecherous grin. He's still a good ten feet away, but you can smell strong booze radiating odd him in nauseating waves. "Why are you here?" you demand. "Only temple attendants are allowed in the prayer spaces alone. You need to leave."

"Do I?" he asks back derisively. Ice floods your veins with his first step. You instinctively shuffle back toward the door. "Because I'm pretty sure I can do what I want. Your temple wouldn't have food without me."

"Without your father," you clarify in a sharp tone. All manners have already been abandoned: this is not the day, and you are not the attendant to bother. You don't want to deal with calling guards or causing a cacophony. You just want to be left alone with your grief.

Your comment makes him clench his jaw. "Without." He takes another heavy step forward, and as he draws closer it becomes apparent how much of a size advantage he has. "Me." He takes another heavy step as your bones ice over. You want to take off, but you're terrified that any sudden movement will just propel him toward you faster, and you're not strong enough to shove the heavy stone door open without a few seconds of effort.

"You're drunk," you point out in hopes of derailing his train of thought. You can feel your pulse thumping hard and fast in your throat. "Go home and sleep it off. I won't tell anyone you were here."

"You think I give a shit f'anyone knows I was here?" he slurs back with increasing volume. "You fuckin' demon worshippers are all th'same, so far up your own ass you wouldn't know a good offer if it kissed you right on th'mouth."

A realization hits you like a brick. "Is this about what happened at my birthday last year?" you ask, using his off-kilter focus to your advantage as you slowly begin to step backward toward the door. "You pushed yourself onto me and wouldn't let me go until I kissed your cheek, then you threatened to drop me off the roof if I didn't accept your marriage proposal on the spot. Do you…" You cut yourself off. Of course he doesn't remember. He'd been just as off his head back then as he is now.

"I was only joking!" he retorts. "Why would I drop m'future wife off a roof? Thasstupid. Y're nuts for thinking I'd actually go through with it."

You successfully baby-step your way to within reach of the carved inlet that serves as the door handle. Just keep him rambling. You can hit him with the door before you take off. "And you're nuts for thinking anyone would immediately accept a marriage offer from someone who reeks like the bottom of an ale barrel."

You know the second you shoot off your mouth that it wasn't a good move. He tenses on the spot, both hands drawn into club-like fists at either side, his stony features pinched with disgust.

"You sayin' you're too good for me, bitch?"

He rushes forward, too fast for you to get the door more than a crack open before he throws a massive shoulder against it to slam it shut once more. You scream as he grabs the front of your robes, praying it echoes down the hall with your heels dug against the floor in a fruitless effort to prevent him from bodily dragging you toward the empty altar. He's far too strong to break away from. Your nails digging into his wrists seems to not even register, even when blood wells under them. "Let go," you plead, wide eyed fixed on the pedestal as he drags you toward it clawing and kicking the whole way.

Nothing seems to faze him. He forces your upper half over the marble pedestal with enough force to knock the wind out of your lungs. You wheeze under the weight of a forearm that presses hard into your upper back, reinforced by extra weight that's too heavy to roll out from under. You struggle the entire time, unwilling to stop, with everything in you that isn't trying to escape screaming toward the Aether for someone, something, anything to see what's going on and intervene. You've spent your whole life serving this temple… why would the Fae abandon you now?

As you flail, a small brown sparrow lands on the edge of the open roof and peers down directly at you two. It chirps once, clear as a bell, and the sound hits something deep and instinctive in your chest.

You aren't given enough time to ponder. He grabs your scarf from behind without warning and the knot instantly digs into your windpipe as he yanks the garment back in an attempt to rip it off of you. You sputter and flail your hands to signal for him to let go, to warn him of the danger that lingers in your head with Deku's last warning, but it's not enough.

You hear a piece of embroidery thread snap somewhere in his closed fist. A gust of humid air blasts across you and the weight above you disappears immediately, followed by a nauseating crunch of bones breaking amid the shatter of cracked marble. You wail in fear, clutching to the warmth that had drifted through you with both arms over your head as you sob into the marble. You can't bring yourself to move yet.

Where are you? You said you'd be watching out for me…

You finally force yourself upright once you begin to lose circulation in your arms. You wipe your face, sniffling quietly as you turn. You nearly collapse as a petrified shriek rips itself out of your chest: the hunter had been thrown back against the marble wall next to the door with enough force to crater it inward. His unmoving frame is slumped over in the center amid a splash of red that drips heavily off the jagged edges around him.

It isn't the wall that grabs your attention, though: his tunic has been ripped with several round puncture wounds arranged in a rough circle, the apparent source of the blood pooling at his sides. You tremble from head to toe despite the summer breeze coursing through the room. The longer you stare at the hunter's chest wounds and the way they're arranged, the more they begin to look like…

"Antler wounds."

You smack a hand over your mouth like you'd just hexed someone. He really had been watching out… somehow. What kind of magic had gone into your scarf's embroidered edge? You run your fingers over it, seeking out the thread that snapped. The wind dies out in time for you to hear another set of feet shuffling in the room. It's almost too much; you nearly faint with the panic that latches around your throat. You sway back toward the altar to use for leverage as your knees once again threaten to buckle and are bolstered by a rough set of hands that press against your shoulder blades to keep you upright.

You're too strung out to do anything but gape as Deku - the real one, the same one from the year before with his antlers and freckles and big, terrifying green eyes oh gods he's finally here - steps around and immediately yanks you against his chest. You cling back with both arms circled tight around his ribs and let out another ragged sob into the soft fabric of his cloak.

"Are you okay?" he rumbles. You can only nod back and clutch him like he's keeping you anchored to the ground. You feel his head turn above yours, toward the cracked wall and what remains of the hunter, and a low growl vibrates through him. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I tried to get here as fast as I could." You feel his arms tighten around your upper half, boxing you in and insulating you from the sight behind him.

"You saved me," you manage to choke back. "You don't have to apologize for anything." You step back far enough to wipe at your eyes and clear your sinuses, trembling like a leaf in the circle of his arms. "What was that? What attacked him?"

Deku's mouth draws into a tense line. "I can't tell you," he replies. "But I know someone who can." You blink, confused by his ambivalence. "Have you considered what we talked about last year?"

…What? "Of course I have," you retort. Your head hurts. Where's that spiced wine when you need it? "But I hardly think this is a time to talk about-"

"No no no, think about it," Deku cuts in hurriedly. "I don't mean this in a threatening way at all, but the people of your village are going to get suspicious when someone turns up dead with a set of puncture wounds to the chest."

Your entire body numbs out with panic. He's right. Your gaze snaps to the top of his head, where a set of now fully grown antlers jut out of his wild verdant curls. You begin to count how many points they have, but shove the impulse away with disgust. You don't want to know. Even if you did, it's probably for the best to remain ignorant for now.

Voices echo through the open roof from somewhere beyond, possibly the temple courtyard. "I have to go," he says with a hint of genuine hurt. "They can't find me."

This is too much. The decision to leave was always supposed to be planned out. You've had an entire year to get everything ready, only to have your plans shattered into jagged chunks of broken marble by a drunk hunter and some creature powerful enough to kill him with velocity alone. You clutch yourself to his chest again as panic grips your throat with white-hot claws. "We'll find a way to come back, right?" you whisper with a silent prayer of hope to the entire cosmos.

He nods. "I swear it on my name." He pushes you gingerly by the shoulders so he can look you in the face again, his own tense with mounting anxiety. "We have to go now, my sparrow. Please… I'm begging you, come with me. I don't want to go back without you again." His hands tighten over your shoulders as tears well up along the edges of his wide green eyes. "Please."

It feels like your heart has been ripped out of your chest and flung out through the open roof. You open your mouth to blurt out some pained apology for making him assume you'd say no, the voices outside growing louder and clearer in the pause, but can only choke around a whimper as everything you want to say jams in your throat. Instead you simply nod, a single weak incline of your head.

That's all it takes for him to scoop you around the waist again and drag you both sideways toward the corner where he appeared. "You might be kind of shocked when we get through," he warns as he hurls you both toward the marble seam you're convinced is going to split your head open on contact. "Hold your breath!"

The command is sharp enough to make your lungs draw in a deep inhale without conscious thought. Your eyes snap shut as your forehead approaches the shadowed corner; it meets only an icy wall of air as the lights beyond your closed eyelids pitches black. You can feel Deku holding you around the waist, an anchor that keeps you tethered to your own sanity as he rushes you through the dark at breakneck pace. The icy rush whipping against your face seems to deplete the lungful of air you're still stubbornly holding onto and within seconds they're screaming for relief. Deku smacks a hand over your mouth just when you think you're going to break and try to take a breath, and a second later you're both tumbling across the stone floor of an unfamiliar but warm kitchen.

---

Part 4

The second your head stops spinning long enough to see again, you realize there's a woman standing between you and Deku. You weakly recognize the faded emerald of the hair she has trimmed neatly at her shoulders. You glance her over and realize with a jump that the skin you can see around her modest summer dress is a pale shamrock green.

"By the gods, who's chasing you now?"

You blink from where you've landed in a sprawl sprawl against an ornately carved kitchen cabinet, too dizzy from the rush of air that fills your lungs when you take a greedy inhale to answer immediately (even though the question was clearly directed at Deku, who landed upside down with his long legs arched over his head against a stone hearth in a corner of the kitchen). You take another breath, but the bottoms of your lungs feel heavy like they've been filled with a thick gas. Deku slumps over to right himself and immediately looks to you. You're beginning to breathe faster as exhaustion gives way to panic.

The woman turns, fixing you with a look of shock that probably rivals your own. She's a spitting image of Deku, down to the ear points that poke out of her silver-streaked hair and the way her eyes go impossibly wide with genuine emotion. "You're human!" she exclaims.

You nod back, too panicked to form proper words. "Oh… oh, you're human!"

She jumps into motion like she'd just been zapped by a bolt of lightning. She procures a large wooden bowl from a cabinet and fills it with a few handfuls of herbs snatched from dried bundles hanging over the hearth, then steaming water from a kettle that she carefully pulls out from its resting place in the coals. She mutters something in a lilt you can't follow as the bowl is set on the floor in front of you, the woman following suit to kneel on the other side. "Lean down and breathe through the steam," she instructs gently, tilting down to encourage the motion. "The air here is different from the other side. You need to coat your lungs before they start rejecting the pollen floating around."

You tilt forward with a choked noise of panic and take as deep of a breath as you can with the steaming water wafting up across your face. Relief finds you immediately: you can draw a breath all the way to the bottom of your lungs, which takes the edge off your panic enough to finally slow down your respiration rate.

"There you go," the woman encourages gently. She rests a small, comforting hand between your shoulders that's shockingly cold for how warm the kitchen is. "You should be fine now." She turns to give her son an exasperated look. "You brought a human back without giving her anything to prepare?"

"I didn't have a choice!" Deku pleads back. "It was that or risk an entire war on their side-"

The woman holds up a hand to stop him and Deku immediately obeys. "Hold on," she says slowly, turning back to look at you with both brows raised. Her gaze drops to your neck and freezes. "You're the temple girl, the one he's been going to see."

The room goes silent, spare the crackling of the fireplace and your own rapid heartbeat. The older dryad watches, still as stone as she takes you in with one long look before staring at the fabric around your neck once more. All you can do is nod back. something akin to pain flashes across her face and she sits up with a fond smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but I think it might be best if you let my son explain a majority of them over some tea. You look exhausted."

My son. "So you're Deku's mother?"

The dryad wrinkles her nose. "Yes," she replies stiffly. "Though I very much dislike his chosen name. It's undignified." She turns to Deku again. "You haven't given her your name yet?"

Deku waves his hands in front of him and goldfishes for a response before you cut in. "It's not his fault," you quickly counter. "I didn't want to offer mine. I was raised in a temple that had some pretty strict rules against that in particular."

"Understandable. Though I can't say I'm thrilled at the prospect of my own son having courted someone for nearly an entire year-" (Courted, what!?) "-Without even having offered his name."

"I did offer it!"

His mother chuckles. "I have to fetch someone who will be of much more significant counsel than I, but that will give you two some time to settle in."

You nod in acknowledgment, but her words don't really process in your brain. Now that you're breathing normally again, exhaustion has begun to creep into your bones. You'd been going on fumes before the hunter decided to ambush you, and now that you've quietly literally been flung through a Fae circle it's hard to do anything but lean against the cabinet. The dryad brushes her hand over your shoulder as she passes on her way out. "My name is Inko" echoes through your own head with the contact, jarring you into a sharp yelp, which only makes her chuckle in the same light-as-air way as Deku.

"Well… this is a hell of a way to meet someone's parents."

Said dryad has found his feet and is watching you with a sheepish smile, a hand absently scratching at the base of an antler. "At least it's over now?"

Your head thumps back against the cabinet. This is too much. You need to sleep. If you don't find somewhere to lay down soon, your body is going to give out. "Could we just…" You glance around the kitchen and into the room beyond, where another hearth flickers around a circle of ornately carved wooden den furniture. Perfect.

He follows your line of sight and seems to catch on without you having to finish your request. He moves toward you, arms extended to help you to your feet. When you wobble upon standing he immediately seams your sides up to take a gentle lead toward the sitting room. The furniture all looks hand-carved, the seats made up of soft animal hides that look older than both of you. He lays you down on the longest bench with a small blanket under your head for a pillow, the deerhide that's draped over the back of the sofa gently pulled across you for a proper blanket.

"We can talk later." He leans down to press a kiss to your temple. You groan as he turns to move away, an arm shooting out from under the hide to grab his tunic and hold him in place.

"Wait," you plead quietly, fatigue tugging heavily at your eyelids. "Please stay with me, at least until I fall asleep." You have no idea where you are or how long you'll be out. All you know is Deku being gone means you're here alone and you absolutely cannot bear that thought.

A soft smile breaks across his face. "Of course," he murmurs back. "Anything you need, just like I promised." You scoot to make room and he steps over to fit himself between you and the back of the sofa without prompting. This is what you really needed: a space heater behind you, a fire in front, and a strong arm draping itself over your midsection to hold the knotted ends of your scarf as you both drift off. If nothing else, Deku has more than proven he'll kill anything that comes near you… or at least has access to something that can.

He's still there when you come to. The lighting in the room hasn't changed when you open your eyes to peer around, and it isn't until now that you notice neither the kitchen nor den have any windows. The fire has burned down to a low pile of flickering embers, which means you were at least out long enough to burn through what had been there earlier. With no view of the sun, however, it's impossible to tell how long you were out.

Your stirring rouses Deku, who grunts in his sleep and pulls you back into his chest. The arm cradled under yours has turned an eerie cold. When it registers you sit up to face him, concerned until it snaps into another bolt of shock.

You yelp and fall off the edge of the sofa. Deku's skin has turned a shade of green identical to his mother's, his freckles standing out in sharp contrast. He bolts upright as well, looking around for the source of the panic before he spots you on the floor, half covered by the deer hide you'd accidentally tugged with you. "What's wrong?" he asks urgently, glancing around again.

"You're…"

He gives you a puzzled look, then glances down to where you're staring at his forearms. "Oh!" His hands rub absently at the opposite forearm as his cheeks flush ever so slightly. "Uh… yeah. I told you you might be a little shocked."

Shit. You did it again. You push yourself up to scoot onto the end of the sofa near his feet, and he respectfully folds his legs up to his chest to give you room without having to make contact. It's a gesture you appreciate, but not one you (or him) necessarily need. You sidle up to his shins, where you lean your side with your hands acting as a chin rest on his knees.

"Surprised is more the word," you clarify before poking your tongue out at him playfully. "A little advance notice would have been nice."

"Hey now," Deku chuckles. "I tried. We had a solid plan going there for a minute." He reaches a hand forward and, with a twitch of hesitation, shifts a lock of hair off your forehead and behind an ear. His fingertips are ice cold, a sharp juxtaposition to the warmth in his tone and the care with which he brushes across your skin. "I'm glad you're here, regardless of how it came to be. I've thought of you every single day since my last visit."

How had anyone mistaken dryads for monsters? If the others are a fraction as kind as Deku and his mother, then they've been handed a grave injustice when it comes to human comprehension of their kind. You lean your head toward his hand and he opens his fingers. Your cheek brushes against his weathered palm, eliciting a shiver that courses down your back as the temperature of his skin clashes against the warmth of the den. For a long moment you simply exist, anchored by the green stare fixed upon your own and the callused thumb that smooths over your cheek. Whatever it takes for you to keep this kind of tenderness around will be well worth the effort. You've already decided (long ago, you silently realize) that he is the only one you ever want to be this close to you.

"Do I make you nervous?"

You're taken back to the altar room for a moment as you recall the image of Deku sitting on the pedestal, bathed in pale light with the cicadas humming behind his ethereal laugh. "No," you reply truthfully, hushed and reverent in the slowly disappearing space between you as you both lean forward. Both your eyelids lower as you both lean closer. It's a chaste contact when Deku leans in to kiss you, as soft as his tone and the way he brushes the rest of your hair from the side of your face. Within a few seconds, the soft contact is enough to have you melting against his hand.

A deep male voice breaks the reverie from somewhere behind Deku: "Ah, excuse us…"

This time you both jump hard enough to nearly land on your asses. Deku pushes himself back until he thumps against the arm rest of the sofa as Inko enters the room, followed by what can only be described as a mountain of a man with wild goldenrod hair and deep-set sclera black eyes, their vivid contrasting pupils locked directly on you as he and the dryad approach.

"I hate to be a bother and intrude on such a formative moment, but Inko was insistent upon checking to make sure you're both still alive." He bows his head in deep apology. You're startled by how easily he seems to hold himself level with the massive antlers jutting out of his hair; they're taller than his head and several inches wider on either side. As you force yourself to not take count of the antler points, you vaguely wonder to yourself how he fits through doorways or in anything less than giant-sized.

Deku rises to his feet, and you quickly follow suit. "Ahh, this is my father," he says quickly. "I get the feeling you two are going to be fast friends."

"If you're willing to risk traversal sickness for her, she's got to be worth her weight in gold," the man booms back. He approaches with a hand the size of a serving platter toward you, the deep lines of his face bent around a beaming grin you recognize on the spot. "My name is Yagi Toshinori. Don't worry, it's safe to introduce yourself to me. I'm not Fae."

You twitch your head to the side but take his hand to shake it anyway, suddenly flummoxed. "But the antlers…"

"A by-product of the life I've found for myself." He lifts an arm as Inko steps up to his side and lays it over her back. It's kind of amusing to see such a small woman under the arm of a moving mountain, but the care with which he moves about her is heart-warmingly familiar. "All by choice, zero regrets."

The two of them take a seat on a smaller bench in the den, and you and Deku take your seats once they're both settled. "The drop in is rough, eh? That ice tunnel is awful."

You frown back. "How did you find this place?"

"I didn't find this place." He puts his arm behind Inko's neck, who leans into him with an appreciative hum. "I found my wife first. She's the one who brought me here."

You can't help but laugh, and mercifully the other three join in. "That sounds familiar," you reply through a chuckle.

"It happens less than it used to, but it's not unheard of," Inko adds. "I had a feeling my son would be following in my footsteps."

There's just enough flatness to her words that you squirm on the spot. "I hope that's not a bad thing," Deku says as he draws himself closer to your side. "Unless my logic is severely flawed, there wouldn't be a son to follow in your footsteps if you hadn't done it first."

Yagi lets out an undignified snort. Inko tries to frown, but it breaks around a smile as she nods in defeat. "All the same, I wish this hadn't been so sudden," she adds. "Not that I'm upset you're here now-" She holds a hand up quickly toward you. "-It was just rather abrupt. I wish we could have had time to prepare a proper welcome."

You glance down to your lap. "Deku saved me from something terrible," you respond quietly. "We didn't really have a choice in the matter." You look up again to offer the older dryad an encouraging smile. "Though rest assured he's been nothing but respectful the entire time I've known him." You bow your head politely. "Your hospitality is much appreciated. Thank you for giving me shelter."

Something behind Inko's eyes softens enough to make your heart twist. She watches you for a long moment, studying you as you do your best to not squirm. "The door has been opened for this place to potentially become your home," she replies to break the silence. "No need to speak of it as a foreign place. You already belong."

You feel Deku draw in a sharp breath. When you glance up to him he's hastily wiping his eyes on the back of his free hand. "Don't mind me," he chirps with a slight tremble. "This is normal. Been a crybaby since I was a sapling."

"You are not a crybaby," Yagi jabs back as he casually swipes a thumb under one of his eyes. "You have a heart."

And I wonder where he gets it, you think to yourself as you lean into Deku's side to comfort him.

The situation that brought Deku's parents together is so similar to your own it's almost eerie: Toshinori had been a well-known hunter from another village who found himself "lost" during an extended journey into the forest; in reality, he'd been lured away from the village so a team of rogues could take him out and claim his hunting grounds. He reached out for Inko, who'd already been coming around in a similar fashion to Deku responding to your meditation, and she answered by snaring the entire group in a wave of venom-thorned vines before sweeping him through a circle and away from the chaos. They were married within a year, and Deku came along a few years after that.

"It's oddly romantic, when you take out the death-by-murder-vine part," you offer to keep the mood light. All three of them laugh, especially Inko, who chortles behind her hand until her cheeks turn pink.

Something is digging at you, though. You can't let the entire moment go without at least trying to ask. "You said you're human," you repeat to Yagi. "But you also say the antlers come from magic. I thought we couldn't access magic."

"We can't," he replies casually. Thank goodness, you'd been incredibly nervous about broaching such a personal subject. "Not by default, at least. Humans haven't earned the right as a whole. However, sometimes things happen and the magic itself chooses someone who might be worth it." He nods toward the scarf tied around your neck. "Not just anyone can affect a connection through something like that. It takes something predetermined by forces beyond our control for that connection to be forged at all."

The air in your lungs evaporates. "So this was fate."

Yagi nods sagely. "Yes, as was me coming here. We aren't the first, and we won't be the last." He jabs a finger at Deku, who's taken to clinging to your side like a newborn bear cub. "His antlers, however, come from a direct blood connection to feral magic. He's full dryad, and it'll be even more apparent once he's eventually the most powerful one."

The world screeches to a halt amid Yagi's beaming pride. You feel Deku go very, very still next to you. "Um… I beg your pardon?"

"The Ascendant," Inko answers. "There is a thread of feral magic more concentrated than anything else recorded in our history. It chooses who it resides within, and whoever that force chooses is essentially the most powerful being in our charted world." She inclines her head toward her son. "And one day that will be him."

You look between the two of them, then back to Yagi. "So that means you're the Ascendant."

"For the moment. My time is coming to an end soon. I've served my purpose, so it's time for the next cycle to begin."

"You don't mean…"

Yagi's eyes go wide. "Oh no no no, I'm not going to die, dear," he booms. "It's time for me to pass along my power. I'm fortunate to have a successor in time, and it would seem like this little excursion is a good indicator he might be prepared for it."

"We don't know that," Deku cuts in, and it isn't until now that you notice how flushed his cheeks are. "It'll happen if it's meant to happen, right?" You lay a hand on his knee that's immediately covered by one of his own. He sags into your side in quiet gratitude.

Inko nods. "And it hasn't happened yet, so we won't fret about it for now." Her tone is soft, but there's a comforting finality ronit that effectively ends the subject for discussion.

You're given a tour of their house, which Deku fervently clarifies is not the place where he's lived for several years (Inko replies with a smug "And yet there's almost always a third plate at the table", which seems to be more than enough for him to take a back seat with his dad and let Inko lead them around). She walks you through the lower floor, where several cozy bedrooms are situated around a circular pit set into the floor. The center is full of a myriad of cushions and pillows in an eye-catching pile of patterns and colors all jumbled together in a space wide enough to fit at least three Yagis with extra foot room. "You can pick any of the empty rooms for yourself," Inko says to you sweetly before shooting a pointed look toward her son, who drops his head and shuffles anxiously on the spot. "But I ask that you remain in yours. I know you're grown, but this is my-"

Deku squirms harder. "Yep, got it," he confirms hastily. It's clear there's literally anything else he'd rather be talking about. "Can we start dinner? I'm starving."

Your stomach audibly rumbles at the mention of food. Yes, that's an excellent idea for more than one reason. When is the last time you ate? If you can't remember, it's probably been way too long. Yagi sweeps everyone toward the stairs with both arms stretched to herd them forward. You silently thank him with a smile as he squeezes your shoulder on the way past.

Four people working at once means dinner is made with a quickness, something you're intensely grateful for when you finally sit down to ea. Your stomach hurts from lack of food so much it almost hurts more to eat until you've got enough sustenance in you to level out. You see to the tableware afterward as Deku cleans what remains of the kitchen mess. The other two take their leave for the night with one last round of greeting, Inko's eyes trained on her son as she warns him about "straying past boundaries" on the way toward the stairs, her husband chortling the whole time.

You and Deku wait in silence until a door audibly opens and closes again. "Well," Deku chirps as he turns to face you with an equally cheeky grin. "I guess I'll bid you goodnight here as well. I'll show you where I live tomorrow, once we've both had a chance to sleep." He takes your hand and kisses the back of it with a dramatic bow. "Sweet dreams, my sparrow."

You snort and take your hand back, but not before giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. "Good night, Deku." His grin turns sly as he moves off to his own room, leaving you to find the smallest unoccupied bedroom for yourself.

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Part 5

The next morning both Inko and Yagi see you both out, the former not allowing her son to leave the house before he's verbally promised to come by soon (and in a hushed whisper to keep you safe). It isn't until you're outside that the lack of windows is explained: the front of Inko's home is set underneath the roots of a gargantuan tree that juts straight up toward the sky in a massive straight line. You peer upward toward the canopy, but it's so far above the other trees the bare trunk is swallowed by the forest crown on all sides with no way to see beyond. The house sits at the head of a narrow trail with more angled trees visible down the road. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get settled," he reminds, offering you a bent elbow.

You smile and slip a hand onto his forearm. You take the short walk to his home in lockstep, Deku's skin cooler in the open breeze where it brushes under your fingers. The air is heavy with humidity and the chill of a light fog that hovers over the trail as you walk down it, bugs chirping and creaking from the grass on either side of the path. It's… idyllic.

Deku's house is almost identical to Inko's, but it's only a single floor and houses, much to your delight, a natural spring under the kitchen. He waves you toward it with a grin and something about a fresh tunic, but that devious little glint in his eye is back when he meanders off to change his clothes as you see yourself downstairs.

The hot spring is a deep pool in its own room with a shallow end that slopes up to the water's edge. The torch-illuminated rock wall behind it shimmers with a stream of water that runs down from somewhere above and down into the pool in a soft, trickling wall, next to a sitting area has been carved out of the rock to the right side of the pool. You dig out a couple of towels and a robe made of butter-soft material from a cabinet before ridding yourself of your dirty temple garb and every garment underneath it, your prized scarf folded lovingly on top of the pile before everything gets placed in a basket next to the edge of the pool. You can't bring yourself to leave the scarf somewhere out of arm's reach, and your robes are the last real thing you own.

The water is hot when you step onto the shallowest shelf, not enough to burn but definitely enough to pull a groan of satisfaction from you as you eagerly step in until you're submerged to your bare chest. Every muscle in your back begins to unclench themselves within seconds. You sink lower into the water, past your chin with a slow inhale and all the way down until your knees touch the stone floor of the pool. Everything goes quiet in a rush of water: it fills your ears and drowns out everything else but the odd bubble of warmth you've found below the water's surface. Your nerves balm themselves over for the first time since flying through the ring amid the trickling quiet. I's just you here, with no one else to drop another surprise on you. You stay submerged as long as you can before pushing back up to breach the surface with a satisfied gasp, your head clearer than it's been for days.

You wipe at your face to clear your eyes of excess water and the first thing you see is Deku hovering at the edge of the shallow bank, a towel slung low over his hips. You yelp and jump back amid a slosh of water, partially out of shock and partially to keep yourself from immediately staring at his bare torso. It isn't enough to stave off the newfound knowledge that he's built like a sprint courier and that he's very, very much naked under the towel. "Gods, you've got to quit startling me," you whimper as you swipe a wet hand over your face.

Deku laughs. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. To be fair, you were underwater when I opened the door."

You grouse back, but it has no heat. He's right.

"Can I join you?"

Your playful frown turns genuine. "I thought that was understood."

"You didn't say I could come close. You're vulnerable right now. If you tell me to stay out, I will."

"You're very polite for someone who's already stripped down."

His cheeks flush bright pink. "I was hopeful," he replies in an obvious attempt to be aloof, but it doesn't quite mesh with the way he keeps jerking his gaze away from the surface of the water (and, you realize with a bolt of mortification, a clear enough view of your naked form for him to definitely see). "But I meant what I said."

The urge to test him and see what happens flashes through you, but it doesn't seem worth the effort. At the end of it all, you do want him to come closer. You step toward him, willing yourself to keep moving as the water lowers enough to expose your chest. Deku seems equally dead-set on keeping his eyes raised, your flushes a matching shade of garish pink now and getting deeper as you come within arm's reach of him and offer a hand.

"Please?"

His hesitation snaps in an instant. Deku throws the towel aside and hurtles toward the pool, only giving you barely enough time to step aside and avoid the splash of water that cascades over you. He resurfaces and shakes his hair out before turning to face you, grinning from ear to ear. "Am I dreaming? Is this really happening?"

Given your own doubts, there's only one real way to tell. You take the initiative and glide toward him in two long steps and snake your arms around his neck. As soon as you're in reach he pulls you in by the waist and kisses the air right out of your lungs. You break away for a breath, but as soon as you've gotten it he tugs you again and the kiss quickly grows sharper with edges of teeth that clack together every time one of you readjusts your head. A hand pushes into your hair to cradle the back of your head; when you tilt into the angle of his hand he presses his tongue past your lips and all bets are off.

The delicacy with which he's touched you so far is gone. Deku kisses like he's been starved of contact for years on end. You give back everything you're given with enthusiasm until you're both struggling to inhale. A dam has been broken: every bit of excitement, fear, doubt, and loneliness that's eaten at you over the years rushes forth in a tidal wave and it's all you can do to cling to him and hope you're not going to wake up in your own bed at any second.

You finally separate with a wet pop. The both of you hover close enough to brush together as you struggle to regain some composure. Deku sighs quietly, his chest still rising and falling hard enough to disturb the water around him. "So I'm not dreaming," he says quietly. "Good. I dunno if I could have handled waking up without you again."

His admission wobbles around a thread of genuine hurt that has you pulling him into a tight hug, your arms wrapped around him tight. You circle your fingernails over the backs of his shoulders in lazy circles. "You don't have to," you murmur into his ear. "We're both here now." Which, wow that's a wild truth, but it's a truth nonetheless.

Deku clings back with his face buried in the crook of your neck. A silence lapses with only trickling water to fill the gap. There's no need for either of you need to say anything: there's a wealth of communication in the reciprocal drags of his nails, the tiny ghosting pecks he leaves under your ear, the little sighs when you drag your nails up toward his neck. You're more than aware of the fact that there's something hard pressing into your lower stomach that definitely isn't his abs, but your curiosity can wait.

He doesn't seem to agree. The pecks along your throat lengthen into full kisses as he settles above the thump of your pulse. A faint drag of teeth makes you jump and he muffles a laugh into your neck. "So jumpy," he purrs.

You give him a nip to an earlobe in retaliation. He jumps on the spot as you chuckle into his ear: "Who's jumpy?"

That seems to hit a switch. You're pulled up and out of the water in one unceremonious grab as Deku hauls you over a shoulder. Your yelp echoes off the walls but he pays them no mind, spare a wet smack to your bare ass. He doesn't leave you with any other real option besides being hauled out of the spring and up the stairs once again.

His room is somewhere deep in the house. It's impossible to ascertain exactly what anything looks like while you're slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, so when he shuts the door of a bedroom warmed by a crackling floor pit it's a bit of a shock.

You fully expect to be thrown down, but instead he braces you under the knees and neck to set you on an impossibly soft blanket stretched across his bed. He steps back, a look of apprehension on his features when they come back into view. "As much as I want this," he says as your sense of gravity corrects itself. "I won't touch you unless you want me to. That was rather… abrupt, and I apologize for it."

It takes a second for you to realize why he's even apologizing. The guilt twisting across his face is what makes it click: you hadn't told him to pick you up. It's your turn to frown as you lean toward him. "I'm not mad," you offer gently. "But I appreciate your apology. It's okay. I want to be here."

Deku's apprehension ebbs, but doesn't completely disappear. "You give me your word?"

You nod without hesitation. His smile returns immediately, radiant amid the firelight, and your stomach flips with elation as he eagerly closes the distance between you.

He settles low between your spread knees, a solid weight that keeps you in place without much room to breathe, let alone think. You're dizzy with the intensity, but you kiss him back with every bit of fervor you're given. Deku groans against your flattened tongues. "Can I taste you?"

You nod without opening your eyes and the weight above you slides downward. It's definitely for the best that you hadn't watched him move: a long, hot tongue drags up your slit and draws your back up off the bed in a graceful arc. He seizes you around the waist with a muffled groan.

He takes you apart with a ferocity that's almost scary. Sharp dives of his tongue punctuate the moments he's not wrapped around your core, alternating every time your wails start to get louder or shake apart. You grip at the blanket above your head for an anchor, but abandon it in favor of the verdant curls on top of his head when a cruel twist of his tongue has you pushing nearly all the way off the bed.

His name flying past your lips mixes with a weak moan from the juncture where his face is buried. "Watch the horns," he whimpers (gods, it shouldn't be so hot to hear someone's voice crack). "But do that again."

You tighten your grip obligingly. His head pulls ever so slightly against your grip when he returns to devouring you with a newfound focus. Something thick prods past your folds and you jerk your head up in surprise, but it's a critical mistake. You're afforded a full view of him with his tongue pressed flat to your core and two thick fingers burying themselves to the thickest knuckle and it rips you right over the edge before you can even draw a breath.

He coaxes you through it, drinking you down with your thighs wedged directly over his ears. When you can finally move them away, you're almost concerned you might have hurt him. But then he sits up, his chin shining in the dim light with a wet grin planted just above it, and there's absolutely no doubt he was just as into it as you were. Your own grin edges on feral. "You gonna stop there, or are you gonna take care of yourself as well?"

Deku snorts with an edge of derision that has you shivering. "You think I'm done with you?"

Oh.

He's back in position with one sharp swoop. This time he throws either leg over his own, splaying your knees wide around his ribs. A wave of self-awareness punches you square in the gut as he drags his eyes down the length of your exposed frame. "Incredible," he breathes. "I've never seen anything as beautiful as you."

You squirm, but will yourself to remain still. It's almost too much. There's so much tenderness behind the wild thrum shaking through him you're not sure how you even deserve it. Thankfully, his patience seems to run out just as your resolve to remain still snaps. He kisses you again as something thicker presses into you, drawing out a prolonged moan from both of you that breaks off when your laps settle together. "Hang on," Deku grunts hard against your lips. "N-need a second."

He's shaking under your arms where they're circled around his neck, but that could very easily also be you. "Yeah. Gods, Deku, you're-"

"Izuku."

The entire room goes still. He locks eyes with you, his own blown wide with only a ring of gold-flecked emerald left. Fear jumps across them while his throat bibs around a hard swallow. "That's my name. I just want you to have it. You don't have to give me yours."

Fear twists your heart for just a beat before it's replaced by a heavy warmth. You reach a hand up toward his face where it hovers just above yours, tentative and soft, the finger that curls his hair behind an ear ever so gentle. "Soon," you whisper back.

Izuku beams. "I'll wait as long as it takes."

Your lips crash together again, both of them curved upward around matching smiles. Izuku sets up a pace that keeps you close while still allowing him to take the lead and kiss the air out of your lungs, skin softly popping together with shallow thrusts without stopping. He has each hip in hand again with a grip that slowly increases with his breathing. Before long you're both panting into each other's ear, your head thrown back while he worries your throat with his teeth and grunts with barely restrained need.

"Won't last long," he rumbles.

You nod your acknowledgment. You've been a puddle since the second he laid you on the bed and took you apart like a prized garment. It's only fair he ends up just as boneless as you. You set your knees around his ribs to lift yourself into him, but both knees are pushed to the bed just as quickly. Izuku is watching where your bodies meet with a feverish focus. He doesn't seem entirely aware that he's got you completely splayed open but he thrusts hard and deep anyway, guttural noises punching out of him in time with the snapping of wet skin.

He finds an angle that seems to hit right up into your midsection and it's all over. He rips a wail out of you before your mouths are sealed together again, his pace unrelenting. You fall apart hard enough to make your entire frame quake under his grip, which has tightened enough to leave deep bruises where his fingers dig into your thighs. Just when it feels like you might actually have to tap out or risk going unconscious he thrusts in one more time with a sharp growl, then another, then a final one deep in his chest as he rolls himself into your hips and finally paints your insides white hot.

You're both trembling like leaves when he finally collapses on top of you again. You run your nails through the damp curls over his temples as he returns the favor along your hips, idle and tender despite the harsh bruises you can feel blooming along your inner thighs. Your breathing comes back slowly as you lazily kiss through the aftershocks, hands never ceasing in their wandering. It's a perfect feedback loop of calm and relief with only the fire to witness in the otherwise empty house.

As your breathing returns to normal you nudge Izuku up enough to meet his eyes. They've gone back to their normal emerald, the flicker of the fire catching hair-thin veins of gold. With the curved points of his horns looming overhead and flush-kissed shamrock skin, he should be some kind of intimidating. Instead, you can't stop staring at him. He's ethereal, more so than anything you've ever seen in any tome or heard in any story. He's real. He's flesh and bone and big, soft eyes and a heart entirely too warm for a creature who could take down minotaurs bare-handed.

And yet he looks at you like you're made of Faerie porcelain.

The corners of your mouth curl upward. You beckon for him to lean forward again and he does so, seemingly as transfixed as you. You pull him down so your lips can brush the shell of his ear and, after a ghosting kiss to his cheek, you whisper your name.

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku imagines #bnha imagines #bnha smut #bnha server collab #citrus dome collabs #my fics

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