#i keep forcing my partner and I into this horrible cycle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starryhyuck · 3 years

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helping hand. (m)

pairing: alpha!jeno x omega!reader

words: 1.7k+

summary: after your regular heat partner, donghyuck, flakes on you for your next cycle, your roommate is more than happy to take his place.

genre: smut

warnings: fingering, creampie, (maybe) impregnation, spanking, multiple orgasms, possessive!jeno

no i haven’t disappeared

“what?!”

“i’m sorry, y/n. i know it’s late notice-“

“it’s more than just late notice, hyuck! my heat starts in a hour!”

donghyuck looks apologetically at you through the screen of your phone. apparently, your heat partner has gone and gotten himself in trouble again. he blew off a couple of shifts at work and his boss was forcing him to work the late shift tonight in order to keep his job.

donghyuck’s been your heat partner for over two years since the timing of both of your heats usually coincide with one another. he has it easier as an alpha, being able to control himself in public and only feeling the need to release twice a day. you, however, as an omega, absolutely need a heat partner to be with you or you’ll hump every living thing in sight.

“baby, i’m sorry, it won’t happen again. look, just try your best to wait for me and i’ll be there by midnight, okay?”

you suddenly feel tears spring to your eyes and you silently curse the fluctuating emotions your heat gives you.

“how could you-“ you sniffle, feeling overwhelmed by the fact that you’re going to be suffering tonight. “why would you do this to me?”

“fuck,” donghyuck sighs at the sight of you crying. “baby, i promise i’m not doing this on purpose. please just wait for me, okay? i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

you hang up the facetime call angrily, throwing your phone across your bed. you collapse on top of your sheets, sobbing to yourself at this horrible outcome. you haven’t been without donghyuck in years and you remember how difficult it is to be without a partner during your heats. you’re left with a huge hole of loneliness in your heart as you try your best to get rid of the warmth spreading throughout your body.

you suddenly hear a knock on your door and you turn over in bed, curling into a ball.

“y/n?” your roommate, jeno, asks through the wall. “you okay?”

“go away!” you scream, not wanting to see anyone in your current predicament.

your attempt is futile, however, when the door creaks open and jeno hesitantly steps inside. you continue to ignore him, sniffling to yourself and hoping this heat will pass without issues.

jeno swallows when he steps inside your room, knowing exactly what this smells like. you’re about to go into heat at any minute now and yet here you are, crying on your bed without a partner. every instinct in jeno’s body is screaming for him to claim you as his own, and jealousy pools at his stomach by the mere thought of donghyuck strolling in and stealing his place.

“w-where’s donghyuck?” he asks shakily, feeling a little dizzy by the smell of your arousal.

“leave me alone, jeno,” you complain. “donghyuck’s not coming.”

jeno blinks. he’s had the displeasure of greeting donghyuck at the door one week every month to fuck you in your room. jeno usually sleeps at jaemin’s place for the week because the sound of someone else helping you through your heat was too much for him.

“are you… are you going to be alone?”

you huff, digging your face further into the pillow. “i have to until donghyuck gets off his shift at midnight.”

he tries to find the right thing to say. hey i can fuck you instead doesn’t sound very appropriate.

“please, jeno,” you sigh breathily, and his cock hardens. “just go away. i’m going to get very annoying soon.”

he struggles with what to say. “i could- um, i could help. if you want.”

you turn over, cheeks still wet with tears. you sniffle again before responding.

“really? wouldn’t it be awkward for you?”

to be honest, you never thought jeno saw you as anything other than a roommate. he was so nice and friendly all the time, eye smiles and late night ramen translating to only friends.

he stumbles a little over his reply. “i mean- not really. i think that if we were to- you know,” he makes this flailing gesture with his hands. “it wouldn’t be so weird. it’s instinct, you know?”

you sometimes forget that jeno’s an alpha. he’s so sweet to you that it’s difficult to remember how powerful he is. an omega like yourself would get mauled in any other situation.

“yeah,” you quietly agree. “you’re sure it won’t be weird?”

he shakes his head. “we’ll be fine.”

you sit up, fiddling with your fingers as jeno takes a seat at the edge of your bed. the heat is creeping up on you slowly, the burn spreading to your core. you try to swallow the urge to attack your roommate.

“can i?” he asks first, fingers reaching for you.

you nod. “please, jeno.”

he closes the space between you, capturing your lips with his. you become desperately needy, fingers curling into his shirt as you try to get closer to him. you eventually push yourself onto his lap, grinding down to feel the outline of his cock through his sweatpants. you moan loudly, triggering jeno’s possessive nature as his hands grip your waist roughly.

“alpha, alpha, please,” you beg pathetically. jeno abides by your request, shedding you of your thin pajama shirt and shorts. you had worn a lacy green number for donghyuck since it was usually what he loved to see you in. jeno voiced his own happiness at the sight, lips moving downwards to mouth over your breast.

you whine when he pulls down the fabric to swirl his tongue over your nipple, holding eye contact with you as he does so. he’s different from donghyuck, who usually wastes no time fucking you and foregoes any foreplay. jeno takes his time with you, eagerly watching your reactions.

his fingers drift to cup your pussy, earning a gasp from you. he can feel how wet you are through the flimsy material, clearly dripping into his hand.

“would you have-“ he grunts when your hips roll down onto his palm. “would you have let me fuck you even if donghyuck was available?”

“yes, yes, alpha,” you reply, fingers gripping his hair roughly. “please fuck me, alpha.”

“i got you, sweet girl.”

two of jeno’s fingers slip into you and you almost cry out of pleasure. your heat has fully sinked in now, head fuzzy with only thoughts of jeno.

“please,” you beg again. you’re both fully in sync now because he understands exactly what you need, enveloping your mouth with his again. you bask in his attention and continuously roll your hips down so his fingers can hit you deeper. you unravel in less than a minute, tugging his hair harder while you ride out your first orgasm.

“better?” he hums, retracting his fingers and pushing them into your mouth. you eagerly accept his digits, swirling your tongue around him and moaning at the taste of yourself. he growls at the sight. “such a good fucking slut. i can’t believe i let donghyuck have what’s mine for so long.”

“more, alpha, more,” you beg.

he quickly pushes his sweatpants down to expose his hard cock. your eyes widen at how big he is, red and veiny to signal how desperate he is to be inside you.

“think you can take it, baby? bigger than donghyuck, huh?”

you nod, tummy fluttering at the challenge of taking him in. you quickly position yourself over him and kiss him again, enjoying how addicted you’ve become to the feeling of his mouth against yours. he helps you sink down on his cock slowly, and even with your orgasm and the wetness from your heat, he’s still a big stretch. you whine into his mouth and he shushes you softly.

“you’re doing so good, my sweet girl. all made for me. i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

you reach your second orgasm once jeno is completely seated inside of you. the feeling of being so full is overwhelming and your body nearly collapses. jeno holds you closer, switching positions so that you’re face down in the pillows, back arched for him. he groans at the sight of you, cock easily sinking back into you.

“let me use you, baby?”

you nod eagerly. “whatever you want, alpha.”

you’re not expecting jeno to have the strength he does, almost flying you straight into the headboard. he pounds into you, completely unhinged. you cry and scream, body shaking at the force of jeno’s thrusts. your heat is crying for more, and he can sense it by the way he reaches down to play with your clit.

you reach your peak again, legs trembling by the brutal slap of your climax. you continuously clench around his cock, urging him to spill inside of you.

“please, alpha. i need to be bred, i’ll be good for you.”

“yeah?” jeno hisses, fingers digging into your hips roughly. a smack lands across your ass and you whimper. “once i breed you, you’re all mine. not donghyuck’s, not anyone else’s. mine and mine only. this pussy is mine to fuck whenever i please.”

“it’s yours! yours only!” you sob, reaching another orgasm with the way jeno pulls and squeezes your clit around his fingers.

“i’m going to fuck you all day,” he lets out a sinister laugh. “this pussy is too good. my breakfast, lunch, and dinner is all you, sweet girl. i’m not satisfied until you’re dripping with my cum. are we clear?”

“yes, alpha. yes, yes, anything you want. please fill me up. please!”

jeno doesn’t even care that he’s supposed to wear a condom whenever he helps someone through their heat. he doesn’t give a fuck that he could actually be impregnating you right now because he knows you don’t take any sort of birth control. all he wants is to be able to spill everything inside of you, filling you up and claiming you as his.

he gives a few more thrusts before he releases, grunting loudly as he presses into you as far as he can go, cum splashing against your walls and dripping down your thighs.

he nearly collapses against you, tongue darting out to lick a stripe up the back of your neck.

“good girl.”

it doesn’t take long for his hips to start moving again, your heat encouraging him to continue.

you’re both so lost in the feeling of each other that you don’t hear donghyuck pounding at the front door, begging to be let in.

#nct smut #jeno #jeno smut

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writing-for-marvel · 2 years

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As You Are

Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ari comforts you when you’re insecure about having acne.

Warnings: mentions of acne/pimples/skin texture, reader having anxiety about their skin and alludes to having bad experiences with previous partners, implied sex

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: this is a purely self-indulgent fic. I have a lot of acne and it’s something I’m very insecure about. I thought I’d share this for anyone else who struggles with this too. Banners by @maysdigitalarts

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Clamping a hand over your mouth, you attempted to conceal a sob which bubbled its way up your throat. Looking at yourself closely in the bathroom mirror, you could see in detail all the bumps and ridges decorating your skin.

Ari lay asleep, covered in sheets just a wall away, as you squeezed your other hand around your throat, trying your best to prevent the sound of your blubbering from escaping the confines of your windpipe.

It was always around this time in your cycle that the acne worsened. No amount of expensive cleansers, changes in your skincare routine, nor alterations in your birth control could prevent the splotchy, inflamed blemishes from scattering your face.

Though most people had the decency to not overtly mention the obvious imperfections in your skin, you were however accustomed to the flicker of their eyes around your face and the look of disgust which overtook their features as they realised how much of your skin was covered.

You knew you couldn’t bear to witness Ari, the man you loved, looking at you like that. It would shatter your heart irreparably.

You had managed to keep the worst of it from him for the few months you had been dating. Between travel for work, and a few months where your acne was luckily not as bad, he had so far only had to put up with a mild case of it.

But now, as you dissected every flaw on your skin, the realisation hit you that he would now be seeing you at your ugliest.

This was the moment you had been dreading since you met Ari. The inevitable day he would find out how atrocious your skin truly was, and be so disgusted by you that he would walk out of your life forever.

Though Ari was unlike any other man you had ever dated, no one else could comprehend sticking around when they caught sight of your horrible skin, so why would he be any different?

Your continued half suppressed sobs roused Ari in the next room, stirring at the whimpers floating through the otherwise still and peaceful night. Ari had always been a light sleeper, and though he usually cursed his ability to be so easily woken, this was one time he was thankful for it.

He first registered that you were no longer beside him in bed, before he noticed the light peeking out from underneath the ensuite door, where the whimpers were originating from.

“Sunshine?” Ari’s unexpected voice was followed by a light tap on the bathroom door. He always provided the courtesy of knocking rather than barging in on your privacy. Leaping for the door and seizing onto the handle with a vice-like grip, you did your best to stop him from entering and seeing your tear stained, acne covered cheeks.

“I’m fine, baby. Go back to bed - I’ll be out in a minute.” You put all your strength into keeping your voice calm and level, but even through a wall, Ari knew you too well to believe the lie.

You knew Ari was much stronger than you, and if he so desired he could overpower your shaky hold on the door knob without exerting much effort at all. Yet, he was considerate enough to not force his way in on your vulnerable moment.

“Princess, you wouldn’t be locking me out of my own bathroom if everything was okay. Please let me in, I just wanna make sure you’re alright - you sound like you’re crying.” This only made your grip on the door handle tighten, but the distress in his tone at the prospect of you being hurt in any way fractured the walls you were constructing around yourself.

“I don’t want you to see me like this.” You confessed apprehensively and little did you know, your words cleaved Ari’s heart in two.

“Sweetheart, I promise you there isn’t a single aspect of yourself you could show me that would make me care about you any less.” The honestly ringing through his voice, combined with his concern almost made you believe his words without seeing the distress in his eyes.

Knowing this confrontation was now unavoidable, you took a deep, steadying breath, bracing yourself for the inescapable abhorrence which would consume his gaze when he observed your skin. You would give anything to go back in time and memorise the tenderness in Ari’s eyes last night as you sat across from him at dinner - glancing at you as if his future was right before him.

You sheepishly opened the door, the bathroom light putting your cystic acne on clear display for him. There was a slight moment where you could see his pupils' sight line dance around your face, prior to his worried gaze settling on your puffy eyes.

Before Ari even spoke a word, you were reduced to a sobbing mess again simply by the effort of being vulnerable in front of him. Hiding your face in his bare chest, his arms instinctively wrapped around you as you tried to control your weeping.

Ari’s large hands stroked up and down your back in soothing, fluid motions, as he whispered sweet praises and reassurances in your ear.

With the utmost patience, he gave you all the time in the world to collect yourself. He didn’t rush you, didn’t get irritated at how long you cried into his chest, he simply held you until you were ready to speak.

Once you pulled back from his chest, Ari wiped stray tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. The action itself was overly endearing, however, the contrast of the smooth skin of his hands against the uneven, inflamed lumps on your face only prompted more tears to slip past the corners of your eyes.

“Hey Princess, it's okay, I’m right here. Shhhhh, I’m right here sweet girl.” Ari whispered as you frantically swiped the continuous flow of tears from your cheeks.

Once you had composed yourself yet again, Ari kissed your forehead and asked “baby, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Can’t you see what’s wrong? It’s my fucking face!” You generically motioned to your features and you could feel more tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall again.

“There’s nothing wrong with this beautiful face.” Ari declared, quickly kissing your nose. “It’s the most perfect face I’ve ever laid eyes on.” If the way he was looking at you now, with utter fondness and warmth, was anything to go by, he truly meant the sentiment, yet the voice in the back of your mind could never believe it.

“Ari,” you replied with a warning tone of voice, “can you take this seriously? It’s my horrible acne.”

“I am being serious. You’re stunning - whether that’s all dolled up for an evening out, or in your pyjamas with no makeup on and puffy eyes at 3am. A little bit of acne won’t change that.” Ari affirmed, doubling down on his previous stance.

“It’s not just a little bit though.” You counteracted, but Ari simply chuckled. Not at you in a condescending way, more like in a disbelieving manner.

“Sweetheart, when I look at you, I see the girl of my dreams. The one I have waited my whole life to find. You are gorgeous, heavenly, ravishing, but you are also so much more than your looks. You’re intelligent, kind, compassionate, funny. Everything I’ve ever wanted, and I wake up everyday thankful you chose to spend your life with me.” That all too familiar sting of tears behind your eyes commenced again.

Ari’s lips pressed soft, unhurried kisses to every centimetre of your face, from your hairline to your jaw, not missing a single blemish, his facial hair tickling with every peck. You knew your face well enough to know that he repeatedly returned to the more affected areas, giving them extra love.

“You. Are. Beautiful.” He said between kisses, his final one landing on your lips.

“Ari…” You bashfully said his name as heat rose in the tips of your cheeks, eyes diverting to the ground.

“I mean it, my love. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. Nothing, whether that be acne, blemishes, scars, wrinkles, stretch marks, cellulite - nothing will change my mind. You are perfect, just as you are.” The adoration and devotion clear in Ari’s eyes as he gazed at you, acne and all, was something you had never experienced before. Here was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on, looking at you as if you were made of the most precious diamonds, when you knew of the revolting cystic acne currently covering your skin.

“That’s not true.” You denied, but Ari’s hands cupped your face and he tiled your head up so you could not avoid looking directly at him.

“Yes it is, and I will continue to remind you every day until you believe me.” He leaned down and pressed a luscious kiss to your lips, one that was easy to get lost in and which made you forget that you had been crying minutes earlier.

“Believe me yet?” He asked when he eventually pulled away. Shaking your head, he repeated the action, this time pulling you even closer to his warm, bare chest with his massive hands. This kiss lasted longer, your mind floating on a cloud when he drew back.

“What about now?”

“Nuh-uh.” He smirked, as he tightly grasped your waist, directing you out of the bathroom and towards the pile of sheets and pillows which was his bed. Laying you down gently, as if you were fragile glass and you would break from being dropped, Ari’s hands pushed up the hem of your shirt, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You know, I’m not going to stop until you can see just how beautiful you are.” He proclaimed against the skin of your neck, placing multiple wet kisses as his hands fiddled with the elastic of your pyjama shorts.

“I suspect I’m going to need a lot of convincing.”

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 3 years

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A/N: If there’s anything I learned from doing this, it’s that vampirerry is an utter WHORE. Good for him!!!! As for myself, I’m done with the semester and my term projects and finals left my singular brain cell fried, so this was a nice way to get back into writing again. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you to the anon that suggested it, this was super fun to do! :D

read you’re someone i just want around here

word count: 6k

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Harry is very attentive when it comes to aftercare with Y/N. The sex they have is often rough and includes toys, degradation, and multiple rounds, so he believes aftercare is non-negotiable. Rough sex can be fun, but if it’s not followed by a lot of communication and post-performance support, it can take a hard emotional toll on a person. Even when intimacy isn’t meant to be inherently sentimental, there has to be a certain level of connection and etiquette surrounding it, or it could end badly for both parties involved. He always checks on her immediately after they finish, simply to gauge her headspace and how her body is responding, and after he’s made sure she’s alright, he goes into his usual routine of skin-to-skin contact and gentle coddling. Reassurance and praise is just as important afterwards as it is during, because it’s good to let a partner know that your appreciation runs deeper than just the physical need felt in the heat of the moment; everyone deserves to feel valued beyond their body.

Harry proceeds to clean Y/N up after every session, because it’s the least he can do since she’s usually the one getting the brunt of the work. He’ll fetch a clean towel dampened under warm water to wipe her clean, or he’ll offer to help give her a bath or a shower— whichever route she prefers. Harry dresses her, and changes the sheets if need be, and tucks her into bed to ensure she’s nice and comfortable. If it’s been a particularly intense session, he’ll go the kitchen and bring back a snack and a drink— a granola bar and a Gatorade, or some chips and her favorite juice, or if she’s feeling especially hungry, he’ll happily go out of his way to prepare her an actual meal— and he insists on feeding it to her bit by bit until she’s come to enough to handle it on her own. If she’s not hungry, he at least brings her a glass of water and urges her to drink it; better to be safe than sorry. After that, more cuddling is the status quo, which normally ends in Y/N falling asleep in his arms, and Harry has absolutely no problem with that at all.

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Harry’s favorite body part of Y/N’s is probably her chest. Yes, he likes it for sexual reasons— obviously— but there are innocent reasons for his fascination, as well. He likes how responsive she gets when he touches her there— how he can get her going just by groping her the way she likes it, or by using his mouth to tongue across her nipples until she’s writhing in pleasure and whining for more. He loves leaving hickies all over her tits, probably more than she likes receiving them. It’s just so fucking hot seeing himself marked all over her, especially when she’s putting on a bra and he can see all of the dark bruises scattered across the cleavage spilling from the undergarment. Filth aside, he also enjoys loving all over her chest. Absentmindedly cupping them while they’re snuggling, nuzzling his head between them while they’re watching television, massaging them under her shirt with his large palms as she sits back against his chest, sipping a glass of wine and chatting away, unwinding after a long day. It’s a form of intimacy; it provides a type of closeness nothing else can.

As for his own favorite body part, it’s a tie between two different areas. He loves his thighs— they’re one of his most prominent features. They’re thick and meaty and sensitive, so they’re the perfect sweet spot to touch when he wants to get riled up. Given his previous response, it can be easily deduced that he likes to get hickies there, as well. The marks look great peeking out from under his briefs (for the short amount of time they last, anyways) and they make a great accessory to the large tigerhead tattoo along his left thigh. It’s artwork, really; a proper Picasso.

His other favorite body part...well, take a lucky guess. It’s likely not that far off— literally, considering it hangs right between his thighs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Harry’s personal preference is cumming inside. He adores feeling the way Y/N tightens around him when he finally orgasms (she’s just so warm and soft and unbelievably tight; it’s like she was made for him), almost as much as he loves seeing her reaction. Her body will immediately start to wriggle and her back will arch as she releases broken little whimpers, clinging to his shoulders with her nails and begging him to fill her until he’s milked his worth. Hearing her ragged breathing and feeling her sweaty chest stutter against his is enough to do him in, but when she goes as far as to gnaw on his ear and whine a soft little, “Want it all, baby. Want you dripping out of me when we’re done.” Well, that’s enough to kill him all over again.

Of course, there are times when Harry likes seeing himself all over her, too. On her outstretched tongue, or smeared across her pretty face and plush lips (she looks particularly cute when it ends up all over her eyelashes), or streaked over the valley of her tits, or pooled at the center of her tummy. If he’d been taking her from behind, then he likes seeing it run down the backs of her thighs, or splattered across the dip of her spine. And if she’d been giving him a handjob, then seeing himself dribbling down her fingers is just as good. Why? Because those fingers usually end up in her mouth, which means he ends up all over her tongue, and so the cycle comes full circle. How poetic.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Did Harry suggest wearing a matching set of a vibrating cock ring and buzzing bullet to do grocery shopping once? Yes. Did he drop three glass jars of peach preserves by accident as a result, causing them to have to book it out of the bread aisle while trying to look as unsuspicious as possible, which failed horribly because they were literally hobbling like a crippled elderly couple? Also yes. Did they end up fucking in a Target fitting room? Definitely.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

A lot of experience. Tons. Immense amounts. Insane amounts. Two hundred years of the same seven continents just means two hundred years worth of sex across every single one. And it gives you plenty of time to find the clitoris, as well as giving you a chance to learn the female anatomy like the back of your hand. That being said, Harry doesn’t doubt he could make Y/N cum with his wrists tied behind his back and a blindfold strapped to his face. In fact, he’s made her cum just by using his thigh, so that in itself is enough credibility to last him several more lifetimes. The toy chest in his closet and the fact that he’s well-endowed are bonuses— he knows more than enough tricks to keep her satisfied with just his tongue. Not to mention his fingers— they’re long for a reason.

F = Favorite position

Funny enough, Harry doesn’t have one. He’s spent so many decades cycling through every possible position in existence, it’s gotten to where he can’t pin-point a preference; all positions are unique, and they each have their own appeal. Reverse cowgirl is nice because he likes watching the way he stretches Y/N open with every plunge of her hips, and it also gives him the luxury of marking his rings across her ass in the process. Regular cowgirl is nice, too— having her chest bouncing in his face is nothing short of a divine miracle, in his opinion. Doggy style is a staple, and there’s always different add-ons he can apply to spice it up; for example, taking her from behind with her wrists tied to her ankles, or bending her over the kitchen counter with her face pressed into the marble, or fucking her against his glass wall with her hands and chest flushed to the cool surface as their breaths fog the floor-to-ceiling window.

Missionary is a tried and true option, and just like it’s prior counterpart, it can be enhanced with a variety of extra tricks. Bondage is a good condiment, against the wall is always a nice touch, spread-eagle never goes wrong, and just having her legs wrapped around his lower back is more than enough. However, he does have two favorite variations of the position. The first is when he mounts her legs onto his shoulders or along the inside of his elbows to open her up more, and then just ramming his hips down at a very specific angle that hits her g-spot just right, pounding her into the bed so hard she tears the sheets off the mattress. The second is a cowgirl-missionary hybrid: he sits back on his heels and uses the steep downward slope created by his thighs as elevation, pulling her ass onto his tilted lap and swinging her legs over either side of his hips. He gropes her waist with his palms and yanks her forward, bouncing her against his cock and watching her completely dismantle as he nudges all the right places with as much speed and force as she deems fit.

And then there’s fucking from the side, but that’s a whole other extensive conversation he doesn’t have time for.

Actually, maybe Harry will entertain it for a minute or so. He usually throws one of Y/N’s legs over his neck to get a deeper range, manhandling her roughly onto her side and yanking her closer to his body by her waist, grasping it with stern vigor and holding her down against the mattress, grunting out a gravelly, strict command along the lines of, “Stay fucking still.” He’ll drill into her at a brutal, consistent pace, staining his fingerprints along the curves of her torso and sponging damp kisses onto her ankle, smirking into her skin as he watches her fist at the duvet in a futile attempt at maintaining her bearings. It’s pretty evident that she can’t, though; the way her eyes lull around their sockets from his harsh stride does a terrible job at hiding her lack of self-control, alongside the fragmented curses she gasps out whenever he nudges her g-spot with the head of his cock.

“Oh, that was such a pretty noise. Did I hit that little spot you like?”

Her response will be begrudging, as always, which he thinks is ridiculously useless considering he can see her burying her face into the pillow to hide how her jaw drops open in sheer rapture. “No.”

“No?” The vampire leans forward, stretching her leg towards the headboard and preening at the garbled squeak that escapes her gritted teeth, plunging deeper as he lowers himself to her level. He knots her hair around his knuckles, tugging sharply until her face is tilted back enough to meet his fiery gaze. “Then why are you starting to shake?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the mood, honestly. There are definitely serious moments, but Harry enjoys the humorous ones just as much. He already adores making Y/N laugh and smile on a regular basis, and that desire only grows when he’s buried between her thighs, simply because she just looks so fucking cute laughing with her hair splayed around the pillows in a messy halo, her sounds of glee stuttering due to how sharply she’s jolting against the bed. He loves feeling her giggle into his mouth as he cracks sarcastic jokes and makes stupid witty comments that break the intensity in the air, especially because she’s usually clever enough to return them with some of her own. Then they both end up snickering like idiots as he tries to keep a solid pace, which eventually tapers to a messy, haphazard stride as their laughter drowns out their goal to the point where he has to take a genuine break to collect himself. There’s tons of examples— how could there not be? Sex is hardly ever perfect, so awkward moments are not only expected, but guaranteed. What better way to handle them than with a bit of humor?

There was an incident once where Harry accidentally knocked their foreheads together so hard, they both bruised (which he responded to with, “I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Cosmopolitan meant when they suggested matching couples tattoos.”). Another time, he got so into the moment he didn’t realize he was jack-hammering the top of her head into the backboard until she brought it to his attention (and made a comment saying it sounded like a sped up version of the beat to We Will Rock You). A bad case of the hiccups. Y/N burping right in his face halfway through his orgasm. A random leg cramp that made him think he was going to need amputation to survive. Accidentally rolling off the bed or couch onto the ground and nearly dislocating both of their spines in the process, getting his cross earring tangled in her hair and nearly ripping off his ear trying to get it out, and the unfortunate collapse of a pillow fort he’d spent over an hour building. He even sneezed in her face once, and when she instinctively went to shove him back, she wound up slamming her palm into his nose so hard he nearly passed out. Nose bleeds aren’t necessarily sexy, per se, but he just dug blindly through her nightstand until he found two new tampons somewhere in that black hole she calls a drawer, shoved them in his nostrils, and kept going. No one can ever accuse him of being unresourceful.

Queefing. Lots and lots of queefing, which he usually starts mimicking with his mouth, and then she responds to that by whining and telling him to cut it out, and then he takes to mocking her whining instead. It normally finishes with them laughing so hard that Harry’s cheeks hurt from smiling so big, but it’s a good type of pain. The best type of pain.

H = Hair (how do they groom?)

Harry likes keeping himself neat and orderly, but he doesn’t enjoy going bare, so trimming is his grooming preference. There’s just something so unappealing about a completely smooth dick— it looks like raw chicken and it’s fucking disgusting. He doesn’t have anything against a good bush, but it tends to get unruly and he’d rather not have to overcomplicate his shower routine. And honestly, he can’t trust himself because last time he had a full front yard going, he got shitfaced and tried to braid it on a dare. Keeping the hedges trimmed is the ideal landscaping option, and it just looks way hotter— a uniform dusting of hair is a good accessory and it just makes everything look more cohesive, given that he also fancies keeping his happy trail thick. It’s all about aesthetics, isn’t it?

I = Intimacy (the romantic aspect)

It’s no secret that Harry’s been somewhat detached from intimacy for the last two hundred years or so. Intimacy is reserved for genuine romance, and that’s something he hadn’t entertained since before the lightbulb was invented. But now that he has Y/N, intimacy has crawled its way back out from the deepest recesses of his subconscious, where it had been shoved into a bottomless pit with the rest of his trauma. He likes it— he likes opening up to her in any way he can, because sharing those obsolete parts of himself with someone again is more fulfilling than he ever imagined. He likes kissing her randomly when she’s halfway through a sentence, just to feel her words die off abruptly in her throat as she gives into his gentle gesture, a delicate smile spreading across her satin lips. He likes whispering sweet phrases of encouragement into her hair when they’re tangled amidst sweaty limbs and rumpled sheets, reminding her of how much he cares for her and how beautiful she looks when she’s so far gone and how she makes him feel like his entire body has been set alight. He likes sponging soft pecks across the stretch marks along her thighs and across the dimples on her belly, her skin candy and velvet on his tongue as she releases a watery sigh that lets him know he’s doing all the right things in all the right places. He just likes letting her know she's special to him, in any and every way he can.

Intimacy forges timeless bonds, and he reckons that assumption is unarguable, considering he knows a thing or two about eternity.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Harry likes to jack off, obviously. Who doesn’t? It’s why he has an entire section of his toy chest dedicated to self-pleasuring tools. Vibrating cock rings, an array of lubes that range from temperature-changing to sensation sensitivity, and a few pocket vags that get the job done whenever Y/N is out of commission (usually because of work). His favorite one is an electronic sleek black model that is made of a premium silicone material and has a variety of massage settings, suction strengths, and internal textures. It’s designed to make the session feel more real, and yes, it was expensive, but self-love is always worth the splurge.

The beauty of living on his own is that he can get off wherever and whenever he wants, without having to stress about someone interrupting an important step in his pampering routine. He usually does it in his room and on his bed, simply because Y/N’s pillow is close by and the experience is heightened when her scent is swimming around his hazy, bliss-drunken mind. If Harry is feeling particularly needy, he’ll ditch the toy all together and just hump one out against the mattress or cushion. If it’s a particularly restless day, he’ll take a toy downstairs and lazily play within himself on the couch while browsing through Netflix. Those instances usually average a few tamer orgasms rather than a single large one, but he’s not complaining; his stamina comes in unapologetic waves that stem from a never-ending supply, and he certainly has the time to kill. If Harry gets the sudden urge in the shower or while he’s relaxing in his jacuzzi, he won’t bother fetching a trinket; he’ll just stroke one out with his hand, using the cool metal of his trusty lionhead ring to tease the tip until he brings himself to orgasm. It turns out daylight crystals have more than one use.

There is one common factor amongst all these different choices, though: Y/N is present in every fantasy. And if the vampire is feeling especially bold, he’ll grab his phone and take a video of whatever he’s doing to himself, and then she’ll have a nice little gift waiting for her once she gets out of the café for the day. That usually leads to him receiving a present in return later that evening, and then he’s dialing her contact before the clip is even done playing, and then what he does during his alone time doesn’t require him being so alone anymore.

K = Kinks

Harry has tons— in fact, he has so many, he can’t really keep track. And he also has the sneaking suspicion that if he were to ever jot all of them down, he’d end up locked in some type of sex addict rehabilitation center. Bondage is a big one, so he’ll start there. He’s great with ropes, given that he learned his way around them ages ago. Chains are nice, but they can be a pain to set up without the right equipment; he’s thinking of getting a reinforced metal hook installed into his ceiling, like the one in his storage closet, which he uses to keep his punching bag secure. Handcuffs, obviously— velvet-lined, straight metal, fuzzy coverings, he’s got it all. Dominance, degradation, Daddy, Sir, choking, brat-taming, spanking, flogging, slapping— impact play in general, to be honest— spitting, wax, praise, begging, masochism, branding (mild stuff, no molten metal shit), collaring, discipline, dirty talk, edging, exhibitionism, face-fucking, face-sitting (with him on the receiving end), giving oral (is that a kink? It is now.) gagging (both the action and using the actual object itself), breeding (he hates that term but that’s the official name, unfortunately), teasing, voyeurism, role play, and… he thinks that’s it. Oh, and blood, but that doesn’t really count for apparent reasons.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Y/N’s couch is sacred, at this point. Their entire relationship started on that lumpy, worn excuse of a sofa, and it’s seen them through their progression from strangers to friends with benefits to lovers to more. It’s comfortable enough, the dark color hides any explicit stains, and the cushions always smell of her signature mixture of honey and lavender combined with Snuggle fabric softener. It’s finicky, but irreplaceable. His kitchen counter is a close second. It’s provided a lot, taken a lot, been through a lot— through a lot of Lysol wipes, to be specific. If it wasn’t marble, it likely would have been reduced to chunks and rubble by now, courtesy of his enhanced strength gripping the edges as he slams her against the smooth surface. The backseat of his Cadillac is consecrated, as well; there’s just so much erotic appeal to fucking in a car with rock music blaring in the background, muffling the obscene sounds of bodies connecting and a mixture of fever-pitch moans. The couch, the counter, and the Cadillac— the Unholy Trinity.

The jacuzzi is nice, too, but for the sake of his clever little “c” alliteration, he’ll leave that one as an implied token.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As much as Harry claims he likes full submission in bed, he can’t deny that he loves being challenged. Delivering punishment and coaxing out an orgasm is so much more satisfying when he has to fight for it; it’s so fucking hot watching his girlfriend try to best him in a power struggle, especially when she finally— and undeniably, since he always wins— caves under his will and winds up begging him for what he otherwise would have gifted her freely. That’s where the brat-taming kink comes into play. He likes it when she mouths off and makes snarky digs, and he enjoys it even more when he tries to set her in place and she amps her disobedience as a result. There’s nothing more attractive than a battle of wits with someone who is a perfect match in every way. And when she channels her attitude into physical gestures, it riles him up beyond compare. For example, when she smirks and rolls her eyes, despite the fact that there’s trails of tears staining her cheeks and mascara smeared all over her waterline? Christ, he could go feral.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No feet, no feces, no beastiality. There’s probably more, but those are the ones off the top of his head.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving oral is great— he highly recommends it, solid ten out of ten— but giving it is so much better. Harry’s always been a giver, even when he was young and barely knew his way around a woman’s undergarments. The stereotypical expectation for a person who is beginning to explore their sexuality is that everything they do, they do for their own gain. It’s a selfish realization, yes, but it’s a primal type of selfishness that no one can truly be blamed for. It’s a simple concept: when you start having sex, you want as much personal benefit as possible. It’s only natural. But from the second Harry became sexually active, he came to find that providing release to his partner outweighed the bliss he could get from letting them pleasure him instead. It’s not direct pleasure, but rather cognitive, which more often than not translates itself physically. And when it comes to Y/N, that euphoria manifests tenfold.

Nothing compares to having his face buried between her legs as she tugs and yanks at his hair desperately, her chest heaving and jaw falling open as he uses his tongue to unravel her from the inside out. Spitting sloppily onto her folds and hearing the raw gasp of aroused shock that escapes her sore throat, which causes his swollen lips to spread into a dirty grin as he latches onto the sensitive bud at the thick of her core, fiddling with it until her legs are trembling uncontrollably around his sturdy shoulders. Watching her features go slack as he bobs his neck fervently between her thighs, swiping the bridge of his nose across her clit over and over until the entire bottom half of his face is drenched in her excitement. Fucking his tongue into her and feeling her buck against his jaw as she holds him in place with her fingers tangled in his curls, whimpering his name repeatedly in a voice so shattered, he could probably build a mosaic with the fractures. Feeling her drip down his chin and into the collar of his shirt, savoring how sweet she tastes as he pins her hips down against the bed and groans feverishly into her cunt, his ego idolizing the image of her so disheveled under his influence.

A measly blowjob is hardly any competition to that. Harry could very well cum just from eating Y/N out. In fact, he has, and that in itself is all the proof he needs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This is one of those other factors that depends on the mood. If Harry has been waiting all day for it, his impatience bleeds into his rhythm, which means he settles for fast and hard. It means he settles for bending her over the back of his couch with one palm around her throat and his other fingers in her mouth, pounding into her with so much force, the sofa starts shifting across the ground. If Y/N has been teasing him endlessly for a decent amount of time, it’ll be rough and deep, but not fast; he’ll drag it out for as long as possible, just to make her regret acting like such a spoiled brat. That’s when he brings out the paddle, or the crop, or just manhandles her across his lap and spanks her until she’s apologizing profusely through her whines. If he’s in a soft, romantic headspace, it’ll be slow and sensual, with lots of gentle caresses, giggly kisses dusted across eager lips and droopy eyelids, and penetrating strokes that make his toes curl and tummy clench.

Pace is relative, but the message behind it is all the same: I want you more than anything, and I’m going to show you just how deeply I mean it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are fun, Harry will admit. They’re filthy and messy, and they show just how far gone two people are for each other to the point where they can’t wait to feel one another at a later time; that they need to be together now, or they’ll go absolutely insane. Quickies are saved for when the urge strikes at random times. For when he’s out with Y/N at a park, sitting under the shade with his head in her lap as she combs his curls out of his eyes and thumbs over his chin affectionately, and the sun filters through the tree canopy just right to where it illuminates her lashes and the suppleness of her cheeks in a manner he deems ethereal. For when they’re at the mall, walking hand in hand and licking at ice cream cones as they survey the shops, and she reaches over to wipe a bit of Rocky Road off the corner of his mouth, replacing the stain with a soft stipple of her lips instead. For when they’re out eating dinner and playing footsie under the table like immature teenagers, and she’s trying to steal a French fry from his plate but he keeps fighting her off with his fork because, “I told you to order your own, but you wanted those disgusting potato skins instead!” And she’s laughing so brightly and unapologetically, giving him a look that so obviously tells him she can’t wait to get him alone, and nothing seems quite as flawless as that fraction in time, then and there and nowhere else.

These simple but memorable moments cause him to get love boners, which he jokingly refers to as “sniffy stiffies,” where “sniffy” has to do with being sentimental, and “stiffy”...well, that one is pretty self-explanatory, no? It always ends with them shagging in the car, or in the family bathroom of a diner, and in the case of the park, in an obscure area of the forest that lines the jogging trail.

Quickies are just that— fast, but meaningful nonetheless, because they come from a place of genuine emotion. They’re fleeting, but unforgettable. Sniffy stiffy quickies, if you will.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Taking risks is the norm in Harry’s life, especially when it comes to his sex habits. He’s proven time and time again that he has no problem riding along the seams of a dare and just barely making it out unscathed, so experimenting outside of the bedroom is just another day in the life. Fingering Y/N in a music room in an antique shop, getting road head during a two hour drive back to Los Angeles, ripping his girlfriend’s panties out from beneath her dress at one of California’s most prestigious restaurants— the list is endless, really. Harry likes to think he has a gift for coming up with inspirational quotes on the spot, so he’ll lend his expertise here and now: “A life without risks is a life that isn’t worth shit.” It even rhymes, so he knows sorority pledges will have a ball putting it in their Instagram bios. A bit of charity work for the bird-brained.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Endless stamina. Literally. Vampires don’t stay tired for long, so he could be ready to go again within seconds. And he can last long, as well; his stubbornness and pride depend on it, and he likes making his partner cum first as an ego boost. He can go as many rounds as Y/N can and more, though he won’t push it. He doesn’t want her to end up in the ER with a bruised cervix.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Harry could run a sex shop from his closet; Y/N doesn’t take the piss by calling him “Fifty Shades” for no reason. He uses them on himself, he uses them on her, and he got high once and tried to sword fight Y/N with a dildo, so it’s safe to say he definitely uses them quite a bit. If his Lovesense Lush 3 vibrator could talk, he’d be drawn and quartered for excessive debauchery.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Harry loves teasing, that’s no mystery. Winding people up is one of his most practiced skills, so of course that would channel into his intimate life. He’s mastered it, though it’s not like it’s hard. A drawn out blink here, or a feathery touch there. An inch of space between his and Y/N’s lips to establish some tension, or squeezing her inner thigh with his palm hard enough to draw a tiny squeak from her chest. Touching her through her clothes, or leaving a trail of wet kisses down her throat and stopping right at her cleavage. Biting the sensitive skin along the inside of her knee, or dragging the tip of his cold nose down the center of her twitching tummy. Lapping slowly at her nipples until they perk up, or sinking a single long digit inside her and keeping it there just to feel her clench around it needily. And once he gets a pattern going, teasing molds into edging, edging molds into begging, begging molds into praise, and before he knows it, he’s hit four of his kinks with one roll of the dice.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Harry is very vocal in bed, and he’s not ashamed of it. He knows for a fact that Y/N loves it, and if him being loud gets her worked up, then he’ll let his throat go out in the process. He’s noticed that in different situations, he has an arsenal of sounds for each. If he’s being rough and dominant, he tends to groan, grunt, and growl. If he’s being desperate and needy, he turns to whines and whimpers to communicate how he feels. If he’s too zoned into the moment to distinguish all his emotions, broken moans and stuttered mewls are his default. No matter the circumstance, they all take the same route: they start low and soft, and escalate in volume proportional to the intensity of the moment. So what if half the building is hearing him orgasm for the third time as he mocks his girlfriends sobbing pleads and calls her his “dirty fucking whore”? Let’s be honest, it’s probably the highlight of their week. He has a great voice— a sultry, deep baritone that compliments his English accent nicely— and anyone would be lucky to hear it spew the filth it does. He’s yet to get many complaints, so he doesn’t intend on stopping.

W = Wildcard (random headcanon)

An honesty hour moment seems interesting, so he’ll confess a few tales from his past. The first time Harry ever went down on a girl, it was against a tree in a garden and he nearly asphyxiated under all the layers of her gown. A couple of years later, he ended up getting oral from a reverend’s daughter against a tree, too, for the morbid irony and associated religious revenge. And to drive the point home, oral was only the beginning of what she gave him. His first decade as a vampire was definitely his pettiest.

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It’s not uncommon knowledge that Harry’s well-endowed. He remembers how insecure he was the first time he had sex— a shocker, he knows; he was insecure?— and how he knew barely anything regarding sizing and how to use his assets accordingly. But it’s been ages since then, and now he definitely knows his way around his own body (let alone his partner’s), and he most certainly knows that he’s above average not only as a person in general, but when it comes to what’s in his trousers, as well. Harry won’t specify inches— he loves how speculation drives others mad— but it was big enough to give Y/N a decent pause the first time she pulled down his pants, and it’s big enough to leave her absolutely fucked every single time, without a single miss. If that’s not credibility at its finest, then he doesn’t know what is.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Harry’s sex drive is insatiable, to say the least. His vampirism combined with his narcissistic tendencies makes the ideal cocktail— cocktail— for the constant fuse that’s always burning under his skin. He’s ready to go at all times; Y/N just has to say the word and he’s pulling on a pair of sweatpants as he grabs his keys, hopping down his complex’s corridor toward the elevator on one foot as he tries to get his last shoe on the other. Lazy morning sex is probably his favorite; he’s come to find it’s when he’s most pent up, usually after a sleepless night of feeling Y/N’s body heat radiating through all of his cold limbs. It also sets a great tone for the rest of the day, and he just loves seeing Y/N wake up to him lying on his side with his temple resting on his fist, his elbow propped against the mattress as he poses the other on his hip in a theatrical diva stance. He’ll smile at her giddily with all his pearly teeth, dimples twitching as his lashes flutter dramatically, dirty intentions written clear all over his face (“Good morning, hon—” “Wanna have sex?” “Harry, it’s ten in the morning.” “Is that a yes? Because it’s not a no.” “I haven’t even brushed my teeth!” “That’s fine, I’m gonna stick my dick in there anyways.”)

All in all, his libido is insane, and he’s lucky that Y/N’s is up to par or else he would have worked her into an exhaustion-induced coma by now.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Harry just...doesn't. Maybe once every few weeks, but definitely more often now than before he had his girlfriend. Sleeping just comes way easier when he has someone he cares about resting beside him, their inherent warmth thawing the stiffness from his muscles and putting his racing mind at ease. He feels safe enough around Y/N to let his guard down— both literally and metaphorically— and that seems to help with his supernatural insomnia; it sedates that nocturnal hyper-instinct in his brain that demands he be aware at all times, muffling the animalistic part of him that has been manning the reins for the better half of the last two hundred years. He doesn’t need to be so on edge anymore when everything he needs is just an arm-length away. Especially when she’s usually willing to lend her chest as a pillow, and who is he to neglect her wishes.

#ysijwa #harry styles smut #vampire!harry #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles mature #harry styles dirty fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction

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breadqueen95 · 3 years

Text

Dress - Bucky Barnes

bucky barnes x fem!reader

wc: 5k

plot: bucky and y/n’s relationship is new, and they don’t want to share with their friends just yet. but something as simple as a dress can change anyone’s mind, even the winter soldier.

content warnings: kissing. physical affection. flirting. allusions to sex. drinking. being drunk. language. bucky being a flirt.

a/n: this is for @natasha-romancff and her taylor swift writing challenge! it took me awhile, but i’ve had a ton of fun writing this. so many bucky fics are angsty, and rightly so the man has some TRAUMA. but for my first bucky fic, based on dress by taylor swift, i wanted something happier for him

***

Damn. That was a lot of leg.

“I don’t know,” you muttered as you stared into the mirror, “aren’t these things…a little classier than this?”

“Uh…have you met Tony Stark?” Natasha grumbled as she continued to scroll through her phone. “The man has never been classy a day in his life.”

“Well I know he isn’t, but fancy people show up to these things. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.” You were currently standing in front of the full-length mirror in Wanda’s room, staring at the reflection of a woman who didn’t quite look like you.

But it was you, wasn’t it? It was just…that you was wearing a very short, very sexy red cocktail dress. The sweetheart neckline was a nice touch, but the back was completely open. And that hemline? Definitely hiked way up past your knees.

“Y/n, relax,” Wanda reassured in her lilting accent, “sure, the dress is a little…spicier…than you’re used to, but it’s in a good way.”

“I’m pretty sure every single person would be able to tell I spend my days in tactical gear. God, I’m not sure I even know how to walk in heels this high!”

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Natasha threw her phone down and looked at you in the mirror. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was giving you her usual ‘don’t give me that shit’ look. It nearly had you shaking in your very strappy black heels.

“Are you kidding me, y/n? I’ve seen you strut in enough fancy parties during undercover missions to know that you’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” Wanda scoffed as she took a sip of red wine from her glass, “all she’s nervous about is what Bucky will think.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide how much that sentence affected you.

“C’mon, Wanda. You know Bucky and I are just friends.”

“Do friends undress each other with their eyes whenever they’re in the same room?”

Damn it. Damn Wanda and her stupid perceptiveness.

“You’re reading too much into it, Wanda.” She just laughed at you, acting like she knew so much better.

What you knew and wasn’t ready to admit to your two best friends, was that she was right on the money.

Bucky Barnes, the infamous Winter Soldier, your favorite person in the entire world, was now your boyfriend. He had been for a few weeks now. The two of you were insanely private people. Hell, it had been years before the two of you had finally learned everything about each other. Once you had gotten past the walls the other had so carefully crafted, well…

At that point you were in love.

But the others didn’t need to know that, not yet at least. The Avengers were a family, your family. They were really the only true family you’d ever had. But Bucky…Bucky was finally yours. And you were his. You didn’t think it was crazy to just want to enjoy that, just the two of you, without everyone else sharing their jokes and opinions just yet. They did it out of love, you both knew that, but you just wanted him all to yourself.

As you looked back at your reflection in the mirror, you took a minute to really consider what Bucky’s reaction might be. He had the best poker face in the room no matter who he was with, but you knew him well enough to know how he was feeling just based on his eyes. He’d always said how much he loved red on you, and he adored every and any excuse to touch your skin. Those steel blue eyes of his would absolutely burn once he saw you in this dress.

And fuck, that was something you really wanted to see.

“Well, if you aren’t going to wear that dress, you better pick something else,” Nat said, jerking you from your fantasies, “we need to be there in twenty minutes, and we all need to touch up our makeup.”

“Actually…I think I’ll wear it,” you said confidently, trying to hide your grin as you ran your hands down the silky fabric.

What you didn’t see was Natasha and Wanda sharing a secret smirk behind you, like they’d known what you’d do the whole time.

***

Six weeks ago, everything had changed for you and Bucky.

You’d known how you felt for a long time. Bucky Barnes, despite his past, was the kind of man anyone could fall in love with. He was sincere, kind, generous, witty…everything you’d ever wanted in a partner. He had been your best friend for even longer.

It had been a long time before you could even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him. After everything the two of you had been through, who had the time and mental capacity for romance? It just didn’t seem important. You just chalked up your feelings to being such close friends. All you wanted was to be near him, even if you just sat in silence doing different things. Just being in the same room as Bucky brought you a sort of peace you’d never had before. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief hug or brushing your back to get past you, your skin erupted into goosebumps. But that was just because physical touch was still foreign to you, right?

And his smile. God, his wonderful smile…

Bucky didn’t smile much. He hid behind a mask of stoicism, a remnant from the trauma of his horrible history as the Winter Soldier. Showing any sort of emotion, especially happiness, was hard for him. But when he finally let himself smile? It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever see.

It took several sleepless nights wrestling with those confusing feelings to figure it out. You didn’t just see Bucky as your best friend. You had it bad. Not just “oh my god he’s so handsome” bad, like the “I would take a bullet for you I’m so in love” bad. That revelation? It left you euphoric. It also left you scared.

Because you were so sure Bucky didn’t feel the same. And that thought was like a knife to the heart every time it flashed through your mind.

So you kept it to yourself. You tried to keep things as normal as possible, but your heart kept fluttering whenever he walked into a room. Being so close to Bucky meant you confided in each other about pretty much everything, and he knew you well enough to know you were hiding something.

It all exploded on a Tuesday night in the compound.

Tuesdays were your movie nights. Bucky had a lot of pop culture to catch up on, so on this night every week he would come by your room to watch a movie. It was a weekly tradition that kind of started by accident. You were shocked he still hadn’t made time to watch Lord of the Rings, so you forced him onto your couch with popcorn and The Fellowship of the Ring. He loved it so much, and immediately asked if you guys could watch The Two Towers the next week. How could you say no to him?

Tonight, you were watching 13 Going on 30. It was your all-time favorite romcom, and you figured you could both use a break from all the action and fantasy movies you’d been cycling through. Something with a happy ending was worth indulging in.

“Does that Matt guy look like Banner to you? Or is it just me?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Heh, maybe a little,” you said, “Give or take a few years.” He laughed at that, and you forced yourself to laugh quietly. You wanted to blurt out your feelings every time you looked at Bucky, so you’d gotten quieter and quieter every time you spent time with him. It was an awful reaction, and you knew he noticed. But it was better than losing his friendship, right?

After that awful and painfully obvious forced laugh, Bucky let out a huge sigh and paused the movie. He set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then turned to face you. Exasperation and hurt glimmered in his eyes.

“Y/n, what the fuck is going on with you?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Oh come on, don’t give me that,” he said sharply, “I know you better than anyone, and I know for a fact there’s something you’re not telling me. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No, god no!” You exclaimed.

“Well it must be something I did, because you’ve never been this quiet around me and it keeps getting worse. I hate it, and I want to know what I did so I can fix it.”

“Bucky, I’m serious, it’s nothing you did—”

“Then why? Why are you shutting me out?” He cut you off angrily, arms thrown wide. “You’re my best friend, I just don’t get why—”

“I don’t want you like a best friend, Bucky!” Your eyes went wide as the words flew from your lips. In the most comical way, you clapped your hand over your mouth as if you could stop the words that had already been said. Bucky’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

Oh fuck. He didn’t get it. Curse him and his old man ways.

“What does that even mean, Y/n? Are you saying you don’t want me around anymore?”

“Bucky, of course not. God, I would never want that. Never in a million years.”

“Then you better explain, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m over 100 years old. I need a little help here.”

“It means, uh…um,” you stuttered, wringing your hands together. “Is there any chance we can just forget I said that?”

“Nope, not a chance.”

“It means…it means that I care about you. As more than a friend.”

His entire face seemed to crinkle as he processed that. If you weren’t freaking out, you’d be obsessing over how damn cute it made him look. Then his eyes got wide as he began to make the connection. Your stomach nearly fell out of your ass as his eyes lifted again to meet yours.

“I…I think I know what you’re saying,” he nearly whispered, “I just need you to get real specific real fast, because I’m not about to say anything until I know exactly what you mean.”

“It means I’m in love with you, okay?” You burst out. Even through your mortification, there was a sudden sense of relief. A secret as big as that had definitely been weighing you down. Now that it was out there, that was one less thing you had to worry about.

His eyes grew even wider. How that was possible, you didn’t even know. That beautiful mouth of his began to turn up into a small smile as he gazed softly at you.

“You’re in love with me?” He asked, his smile getting wider with each passing second.

“What, you need it carved into stone or something?” You couldn’t help but sass him. Did you fucking stutter?

“No, it’s just…I never thought you’d feel that way about me.”

“Well, clearly I do. So you – wait, you mean you’ve thought about this before?”

“Of course I have,” he said as he shrugged, “I’ve been in love with you for two years now, how could I not think about it?”

You were instantly filled with warmth and pure bliss. In all your obsessing over your own feelings, you’d never allowed yourself to consider that he might feel the same about you. It just didn’t seem possible.

“I’m sorry,” you burst out, holding a hand up, “you’re telling me you’ve been into me for two years and didn’t say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He shot back, inching closer to you.

“Because you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose you because of stupid feelings I have.”

“But…I have those same ‘stupid feelings’ for you. So can we just cut the whole act and get on with it?” Bucky brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin so gently.

“Uh…um…get on with what?”

“Well I’d kinda like to kiss you, if you’re cool with it.”

“Bucky Barnes did you just use current slang to ask if you could kiss me?” You didn’t move an inch as his face moved right in front of yours, breath intermingling as you gazed into each other’s eyes. God, was this really happening?

“Yeah, guess your lessons worked,” he murmured.

“Well you better kiss me, then.”

As soon as your lips met, it was like coming home.

***

That memory, your favorite memory, replayed in your head as the three of you stepped into the elevator. Nat and Wanda were happily chatting about who would be there, what kind of antics Tony would cook up tonight, if there would be music we could actually dance to. You know, normal party things.

All you could think about was how long you had to stay until you could sneak off with your boyfriend.

You were so happy Wanda and Natasha had convinced you to wear this dress. When you’d first put it on, the difference from your normal look was so jarring that it took you a few minutes to get used to it. But now that you had, now that you felt the silky fabric shifting against your skin as you moved, now that you saw how dangerously long your legs looked in these heels…

Damn, you felt sexy.

And that sexy feeling? It made you want Bucky’s hands all over you.

But this was a party. A party thrown by Tony Stark, one of the most perceptive and observant people you’d ever met. If you left too soon, if he thought you weren’t “having enough fun”, he’d be more than a little upset. So you had to stay, drink, mingle, maybe dance a little…and then, maybe later, you could go do what you actually wanted.

The elevator pinged, indicating you had reached the topmost floor of the compound. This floor was home to a huge communal space, often used for just hanging out with the team. But on nights like tonight, Tony went all out and turned the space into something that resembled…a club?

The three of you stepped out into the massive room, upbeat music already blasting from the speakers. Typical Tony – he never really outgrew his love for dancing and parties. The bass thrummed through your body, making you want to move to the music. The lights were dim, but you could still tell who was around. It looked like you were some of the last members of the team to arrive. There was a huge bar off to the side, and Natasha headed that way right away. You turned to ask Wanda if she wanted to follow Nat, but she was already making a beeline for Vision. Smiling, you just turned right back around to follow Natasha. A drink sounded pretty good right now.

As you made your way to the bar, you felt more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you walked. You sneakily looked around as you went, noticing men and women watching you with admiration, and dare you say it, longing. As someone whose job was to blend in with the background all the time, this was a different and slightly addictive feeling. You leaned on the bar next to Nat right as the bartender slid her drink over to her.

“Straight whiskey tonight? Damn, going hard.” You quipped.

“Hey now, you know I can handle my liquor. It’s you we need to watch out for, you lightweight.”

Laughing, you scanned the party guests, looking for the one person you wanted to see. Tony had had arm around Pepper’s waist, both laughing at something Rhodey had said. Bruce lingered around them, drink in hand and looking a little nervous, but still happy to be included. Wanda and Vision were sitting quietly on one of the couches, both looking absolutely smitten with each other. Scott Lang, one of the newest additions, was busting some moves, while Peter Parker laughed as he watched. Thor, who was visiting from Asgard, laughed boisterously as he watched various guests try to lift his hammer. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face. You loved these people so much.

Then, you saw him.

Bucky was with Sam and Steve, as usual. But even as Sam and Steve were talking animatedly next to him, those gorgeous blue eyes of his were glued to you. There was a kind of intensity in them you hadn’t seen before. Your breath whooshed from you body as he grinned at you. Trying to maintain the suggestive image your dress gave you, you managed to send a flirtatious smile his way, then turned back around to face the bar. Leaning against the counter, you knew he’d get an eyeful of your bare back. God, this was fun.

The bartender finally made his way over to you, and you ordered two tequila shots.

Nat turned to you, one eyebrow arched in surprise as she asked, “And you say I’m going hard? You can’t just down two shots right away, babe.”

“I’m not doing two shots; you think I’m stupid?” The bartender slid the shots over to you along with two lime wedges. “One is clearly for you.”

Unable to hold back a laugh, Natasha put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side as she said, “Why the fuck not, let’s do it.” The two of you went through the process: salt, shot, lime. You couldn’t help but wince as you downed the harsh liquor. Of all the shots in the world, tequila probably tasted the worst. The only reason you kept going for it was the warmth it traced down your body, and you felt your muscles begin to loosen up.

“Two more,” you called over to the bartender.

“Uh, no,” Natasha shot at you, grabbing her whiskey, and pushing off the bar, “I’m good with my top shelf shit, you keep going after that gasoline if you want but I’m out.”

“C’mon, Nat,” you called out, “what am I gonna do with two shots?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone else, babe.” She said with a wave over her shoulder.

Sighing, you turned back to the ridiculously pretty bar (seriously, how much had Tony paid for this thing?). Who else would help you look cool and sexy at a bar for your secret boyfriend?

Okay, that was the cringiest thought you’d ever had. Gross.

As the bartender slid the tequila in front of you, you steeled yourself for the nastiness that was about to happen.

“Fuck, I didn’t think this through,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, you tend to do that,” a deep voice answered on your right. Instead of being the slightest bit surprised, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d know that voice anywhere.

“Something I can do for you, Barnes?” You looked up at him from under your lashes.

“Well, it looks like you’ve got an extra shot there. Thought I could bail you out.”

“Is that all?”

Bucky shifted so that your arms were just barely touching. His hand was right next to yours, and you reached out with your pinky to lightly brush his.

“Doll, you have the gall to show up in that dress and ask what I want as if you don’t already know?”

“Sorry Buck, I’m a little slow, must be the tequila. You should probably be a little clearer.”

Putting on quite the show of reaching for one of the shots, his mouth somehow ended up right next to your ear.

“I want you.”

It was lucky everyone was so distracted and couldn’t see how you shuddered at his words. Trying to maintain brain function, you managed to take the shot with him. You were now fully facing each other. He was wearing the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen, one that would put Tony Stark to shame. You couldn’t help but respond with that same energy despite the jitteriness his three little words had reduced you to.

“Well why don’t you—”

“Hello, my friends!” A booming voice sounded between you as Thor threw a huge arm over each of you. Bucky, with his stupid super soldier strength, didn’t really have a reaction to it. You, on the other hand, stumbled a little under the weight and force of it. “It’s so good to be back with you tiny humans.”

Was…was he slurring his words?

“Thor…are you drunk right now?”

He simply laughed in response. Well, that answered that.

“Of course I am, tiny person! It can’t be a party without good Asgardian wine.”

“Wait…you have literal god wine?” Bucky, who had a look of vague irritation on his face up to this point, now looked interested. Maybe even a little excited?

“Of course, metal appendage.”

“Dude, you can’t just call Bucky ‘metal appendage’—”

“He can if he lets me have some,” Bucky interrupted.

“We have a bargain!” Thor slapped Bucky on the back before scurrying back over to where he had come from, probably to get the wine he had promised.

“Bucky, you can’t even get drunk,” you hissed, “what exactly is the point of this?”

“Since everything happened, I haven’t found any alcohol strong enough to get me drunk. I figure god wine is worth a shot.”

“Bucky—”

“When I kiss you against a wall later, I wanna be a little tipsy,” he whispered in your ear, “that cool with you?”

Unable to keep yourself from smiling again, you nodded as Thor sauntered back over. Ever since that moment a few weeks ago, right before he kissed you for the first time, asking “is that cool with you?” had become your thing.

And the idea of Bucky kissing you against a wall? Yeah, that sounded pretty good.

***

As it turns out, Asgardian wine is just as potent as Thor had promised.

For the first time in over seventy years, Bucky Barnes was certifiably drunk. It made him feel like the Bucky from all those years ago, and it was the most incredible thing. Here he was, over 100 years old, partying, and all his favorite people were here.

Including his ridiculously hot girlfriend.

Even as they both flitted around the party, Bucky and y/n still found each other’s eyes, even from across the room. They would send winks, smiles, even funny faces. All he wanted to do was be right next to her, talk and dance with her all night…

But they had agreed. They wanted to keep their relationship a secret for now, keep the attention off of them for a bit while they got to know each other in this new way.

But god damn, that dress.

Y/n in red was…indescribable. It didn’t matter what she wore, she was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But in red? In this dress?

She was breathtaking.

“Buck, you breathing?”

A hand waved in front of his face, snapping Bucky’s attention back to the people around him from Y/n’s back. He had been imagining putting his hands all over that back later and had gotten more than a little mesmerized. He managed to get his eyes to refocus, finding a drunk Sam smirking right next to him and an even drunker Steve dancing next to him. But what Steve was doing couldn’t really be called ‘dancing’ per say…more like an aggressive wiggle.

“Why wouldn’t I be breathing?” Of all the things he could’ve said to get Sam’s attention off of him, that wasn’t it.

“Uh, probably because the girl you’re in love with decided to show up and show off tonight? Pretty sure you’re drooling, man.”

Despite himself, Bucky slapped a hand across his mouth, only reducing Sam to wheezing laughter. Knowing he had been caught, he rolled his eyes and grimaced a little. Of all the people to catch him, he wished it hadn’t been Sam.

“I wasn’t…staring… at y/n, I just never see her dressed up is all.”

“I never said anything about the girl being y/n.”

“…fuck.”

“LANGUAGE,” Steve yelled out, pointing a finger at his two friends before returning to his shimmying.

Turning back to him, Sam added, “Just go be with her, Buck. You’re not fooling anyone, and neither is she.”

“We’re that obvious?”

“A few weeks ago you’d at least try to hide it. Now I’m surprised you’re not jumping each other’s bones right here right now.”

“Point taken,” Bucky said, lightly slapping Sam’s shoulder before power walking over to his girl.

***

“Nat, if you don’t stop asking about Bucky and I’s relationship, I’m going to kick you,” you called over the music before taking another swig from your glass. It was no Asgardian wine, but the human stuff wasn’t half bad in your opinion. It wasn’t like you could drink the god shit, anyway. If you had even one sip, you’d be swinging from the ceiling like Miley fucking Cyrus. You were pretty drunk as it was.

“Okay, fine,” she said with a shrug as she took a sip of her whiskey, still as calm and collected as ever. “You’re almost as drunk as he is, you’ll be talking soon enough.”

“Oh? Is that your spy master plan?”

Natasha was still looking as unbothered as ever, but as she looked across the room over your shoulder, her face split into a savage grin.

“It was, but it looks like I might not need it.”

“What do you me—”

Your words were cut off as a large, warm hand enclosed around yours. Whirling around, you were suddenly face to face with the man himself. Bucky was clearly having a good time. His mouth was relaxed into the cutest smile you’d ever seen him wear, and he moved without his normal stiffness and intensity. He threaded your fingers together, smiling down at you with so much love it was a wonder Nat hadn’t said anything yet.

Looking back in front of you, ready to explain yourself, you only found empty air. Guess she’d seen all she needed to, but honestly, you really didn’t care. All you’d wanted the whole night was to be exactly where you were right now; hand in hand with the man you loved.

“We’re just kidding ourselves, doll,” Bucky called next to your ear, “Sam said we’ve been pretty obvious.”

“Nat said the same,” you answered with a sheepish smile, “kind of hard to keep my face under control when you’ve got that leather jacket on.”

“You’re blaming me?” He asked with mock indignation. “You’re the one who looks,” he gestured wildly to your whole body, “like that!”

Trying ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks, you shot back, “Like what?”

“Like the most…” he screwed his face up in the most adorable way as he searched for words, “like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” As the last few words tumbled out of his mouth, he gazed at you with such a softness you almost melted right into the floor.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked, finally giving up the game. It was pointless, really. Now, all you wanted to do was for your boyfriend to keep his promise and kiss you against a wall.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he answered, “Absolutely.” Without looking at a single soul, the two of you began walking as quickly as you could for the exit. You and Bucky were both leaning on each other a bit, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Stepping out into the light of the hallway, you blinked as your eyes adjusted after the dark room you’d spent the last few hours in. Bucky led you until you were right in front of the elevator, and he lazily pressed the button to go up. There was tension in the air between you, like a thread that was being pulled. Biting your lip, you stared at the doors in front of you. You knew if you so much as looked at the man next to you, you’d jump him right then and there.

The shining doors slid open, and the pair of you walked in, his strong arm still around your waist. His grip wasn’t loose in any sense of the word. Bucky kept you right next to him, even as your legs wanted to drift all over the place. You pressed the button for the residential floor.

As soon as those doors slid shut, that thread of tension snapped.

Bucky whirled you to face him, then walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall of the elevator.

“I promised I’d kiss you against the wall, didn’t I?”

He didn’t even wait for a response. His mouth was on yours in an instant, lips moving together like a dance. The kiss was slow and unhurried. You tried to bring him closer, linking your hands behind his neck and pressing yourself to him. Instead of responding in kind, he unwound your arms from around him and pinned them above your head.

Oh damn.

Okay.

No complaints here.

“You’ve been teasin’ me all night just by wearing that dress, sweetheart,” he murmured in between the kisses he trailed down your jaw, “I think it’s my turn.”

“Would it change your mind knowing I only wore this dress so you could take it off?”

The heat that bloomed in those blue eyes of his was unmistakable. As the doors opened on your floor, he swept you up into his arms and began to walk purposefully to his apartment. All the while, he kept that signature cocky smirk of his you’d come to adore.

“Bucky?” You asked once he’d walked into his unit.

“That sentence was the single most attractive thing you’ve ever said,” he murmured as he set you down. Even still, he kept you pressed against him. “But nah, I’m a patient guy. I think I’ll take my time.” He followed this by resuming his slow and sensual kisses, and you couldn’t help but melt into them.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that, doll. I love you too.”

***

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x you #dress #jenna writes #i love lanie #laniestaylorswiftwc

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

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Kinktober 26: Demon (The Summoning Circle)

Day 26: Demon Title: The Summoning Circle Pairing: Kurogiri x Reader Word Count: 3.6k Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, demon sex powers, manipulation, coercion, death, orgasm denial, overstimulation, forced orgasms, mentions of past cheating (not Kurogiri), yandere Notes: Thank you to Literary Genius @burnedbyshoto for helping me when I was stressing out over an ending for this.

Kinktober Masterlist

You’ve double and triple checked the spell, gone over the necessary ingredients, and compared the sigils drawn on the floor to the Ars Goetia grimoire you hold in your hand over a dozen times at this point. There is no way that a single thing is out of place, no way that you’ve made even a simple mistake.

You have at least a general idea that you must be careful with these kinds of things, although you have no personal experience. According to the grimoire, if there is even one small error in the binding sigils, you will find yourself dead or worse when you summon a demon.

You’re not even sure where the book came from. You found it in your attic while cleaning and trying to distract yourself from the anger you felt towards your partner. You wanted revenge on them more than anything, and finding the book almost seemed like a sign telling you exactly how to get it.

So here you are now, attempting to summon a demon. You chose a lower ranked demon from the Ars Goetia, deciding to err on the side of caution even though you’re not sure this will work at all.

And so, with a deep breath, you find yourself chanting the Latin incantation in the spellbook, walking around the circle as you do and spreading incense. When you finish, you find yourself standing in front of a still empty summoning circle, feeling remarkably stupid for thinking this could ever work.

Until the room’s temperature begins to drop rapidly, causing you to be able to see the fog of your own breath in the cold air. All of the lights in the room dim and then shatter, scattering glass everywhere. The candles surrounding the circle sputter and flicker for several seconds before finally being snuffed out, leaving you in total darkness.

Despite the pitch black, you can see something moving in the darkness, something that looks like purple mist creeping in. There is a noise that sounds like when someone opens a window or door on a windy day and you hear the pressure of the air rushing past you.

The purple spirals upwards until it finally begins to coalesce into the shape of a man. The candles flicker back on, the flames flaring up far higher than they should be able to and causing strange looking shadows to appear on the wall. When your eyes finally adjust, you realize that there is only purple mist where the man’s head should be and yellow eyes staring at you like they see right through you down to your soul.

“You summoned me, mortal?” The demon’s voice is deep and full of amusement. He paces the very edge of the circle, and you’re suddenly very glad that you double checked the sigils, as he pauses every small step to investigate them. Checking for some sort of flaw to escape, most likely.

“I - maybe - I,” you stumble over your words and he chuckles.

“Maybe? It’s a yes or no question.”

“I did do a summoning, yes. But I didn’t - “

“Didn’t expect a demon like me?” He interrupts you before you can finish. He chuckles even louder when you simply nod your head.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” he states, “I am a high ranked demon far beyond your capabilities to summon, mortal.”

“Then how are you here?”

“I came to aid you of my own free will.” He has finished his cycle around the sigils keeping him imprisoned, turning to look into your eyes. The penetrating gaze he levels at you has you squirming, and you’re the first to look away.

“Why would you do that though?” You begin to pace yourself, nervous energy rising up in you at the unusual situation you’ve found yourself in. This wasn’t what you expected to happen, and you’re left off balance.

“Because I can feel your rage, mortal. You want to punish someone, don’t you?”

Your eyes snap back to his, and he gives a slight nod as if encouraging you to continue.

“I - do want to punish someone. My ex-partner.”

The mist around the demon’s face seems to swirl with amusement. “Let me guess - cheating?”

Your eyes widen a fraction at the demon being so on the mark. “Yes, I caught them in bed with someone else.”

“A tragedy, really. Anyone foolish enough to cheat on someone like you deserves whatever they get.”

You can’t stop the heat that rises to your cheeks at the slight bit of flirtation. “I - thank you. Is it something you can help me with?”

“Of course, mortal. Revenge is something that I am quite good at. But I don’t like to make deals through a summoning circle. Shows a lack of trust, you see.” He steps a bit closer to the edge of the circle and raises his hands up in a placating manner. “Let me out as a good faith gesture.”

Your body instantly tenses. The reasoning makes sense, but the thought of this demon being free puts you on guard.

“I’m not so sure about that one,” you say hesitantly. “The book says you absolutely should not do that.”

“What book is this?” The demon says curiously. “Surely it won’t hurt to allow me to see it?”

You can’t think of anything that he could do with the book to act against you, so you slide it across the barrier without putting your hand through.

He picks up the book and begins to flip through it, making some hums of acknowledgement as he reads the pages. He glances back at your summoning circle before turning a few more pages and finding the exact spell that you used to summon him.

“Ahh, so this is the spell you intended to cast for a lesser demon summoning.”

“I didn’t actually expect it to work at all,” you admit. “And I definitely didn’t expect to summon anything like you.”

“Anything like me? You mean an incubus?”

“I - what, I don’t - “ You stumble over your own words. Even someone as ignorant as you are knows what kind of demon that is. And it’s well over your experience level. “Is that what kind of demon you are?” You finally manage to get out.

“Oh yes it is,” he says in a rumbling tone of laughter. “You may call me Kurogiri. And what about you?”

You say your name before you can think better of it, and the demon called Kurogiri’s eyes brighten in excitement.

“This book has one thing right. A demon’s word is law. If I swear an oath that I won’t betray you, then I am bound to it. So why don’t you let me out and we can work out a deal, hmm?”

You shift around from one foot to the other while you consider things. He seems reasonable and willing to deal with you, and he’s even willing to give you an oath. All he’s asking is to not be locked in a cage. “I want your word first.”

His eyes flash with dark humor at your words. “I swear that I will not betray you.”

You feel the weight of those words settle into your chest, as if a physical bond was created. You realize this must be the oath, preventing him from hurting you, and so you walk forward and smudge the circle enough for him to walk through. He strides through confidently, eyes zooming in on you instantly. The look of malicious glee on his face causes you to inadvertently take a step back.

That expression on his face tells you that you made a horrible mistake. The air seems to get heavy as the room heats up, his power building and building. It hits you in the face like a physical force, causing you to stumble before turning on your heel to run.

But you don’t make it very far. As you grab for the doorknob, the heat of it causes you to jerk your hand back. You turn to see the demon standing in the same spot, arm raised as he beckons you to him. You take sluggish steps forward, almost as if in a dream. You can feel what’s happening, but you can’t stop yourself from walking towards your doom.

In no time at all, you’re standing in front of him, forced to look up at his face as he towers above you. You’re burning up, skin feeling too tight as an insistent throb between your legs begins. You try to turn away, but you’re frozen in place as the demon takes a now clawed hand and traces it down your face.

‘You - swore that you wouldn’t betray me.” You’re surprised to find that your voice still works.

“Oh I promise you,” Kurogiri whispers seductively, “you’re going to love what I’m about to do to you.”

And with that, a clawed hand tangles in your hair as he crashes his lips against yours. A dominant tongue slips into your mouth as his teeth bite against your lower lip. You can do nothing but stand there and let him do as he wishes, the throbbing between your legs only intensifying as you feel slick drip down your inner thighs.

He pulls away, leaving you gasping for air and your lips swollen and bruise. “What did you do to me,” you pant, finally finding yourself able to move as you squeeze your thighs together for some sort of friction.

“Just a bit of incubus magic,” he chuckles, grabbing you and lifting you easily as he carries you to the summoning circle. He lays you down on your back in the middle of the circle before taking time to undress himself slowly, removing piece after piece as if it’s a show.

You can’t help but admire how beautiful his body is underneath the fancy suit he wears. You squirm around, trying to move, to anything to relieve this fire burning through your veins. But with a smirk, he paralyzes you again before settling in between your legs. He removes your clothes next, forgoing making a show of it and choosing instead to rip them off of you.

Soon you’re laying in nothing but your panties, wet spot clearly visible through the material. “Well look at this,” he murmurs, “already so wet for me.” He glides a finger across the wet spot, drawing a whine deep from the back of your throat as he slides your soaked panties down from your hips. You’re left vulnerable in front of him, unable to close your legs as he spreads them far apart.

Your bare pussy is left completely visible to him, slick gushing out of you as he examines you. “Such a pretty pussy. I’m sure you won’t mind if I have a taste - “

He leans in to lap at your juices, groaning and causing vibrations to shoot right through you. He spreads you open with two fingers as he suckles your clit, sliding two fingers easily into your core. You’re still paralzyed by whatever power he’s using, and so you’re forced to feel everything, every action seeming more intense from your inability to move.

He increases the suction on your clit, tongue lashing and swirling against the throbbing bead and causing a moan to slip from your throat. “Hngg, please, oh shit - “

“Does that feel good, mortal?” He coos at you, curling his fingers up to graze a sensitive spot inside that draws a shout from you. “I am barely even trying yet, and already you’re such a beautiful mess underneath me.”

You pant heavily as his fingers work inside of you, tongue refusing to let up on your now aching clit. The tension is building and building, and you whine as your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Please, oh fuck,” you groan, not even sure if you’re begging him to stop or to never stop. “It feels so good -”

He lifts up just enough to take in your sweaty, breathless form, chest heaving and drool running down the corner of your mouth. “Do you want to cum?”

“Yes yes yes,” you babble mindlessly, right at the edge of an orgasm but unable to crash over. “Please!”

“Then call me your master, mortal.”

You’re too far gone to think of the consequences, the heat from within you burning through your veins. “Master, please let me cum! I need to cum so bad, please!”

He hums in pleasure, fingers inside of you quickening their pace, relentlessly smashing against your g-spot as his mouth latches around your throbbing clit again. You scream out your orgasm, juices squirting all over the demon’s face as you try to writhe.

Everything feels so sharp, so intense because of your paralysis, and you’re pushed over the edge twice more before he finally lets up. Your body is finally allowed to move, only for you to go limp as you shake and shudder.

You think things are over until you feel something hot and hard prodding at your entrance. Your eyes snap to his, eyes widening with alarm as you feel how thick he is.

“You didn’t think I was actually done with you, did you?” He flips you over, pressing your face down into the floor and raising your ass into the air as he sinks into you, inch by slow inch. You realize quickly that he doesn’t feel like a regular man, ridges and bumps running along his length that grind against your inner walls and force you to stretch around him even more.

Your fingers dig hard into the floor as you try to breathe. It hurts more than you would think, but in your lust addled mind, even the pain feels delicious.

“Does it hurt, little one?” The demon asks mockingly as you throw your head back. arching your back in a way that you can’t tell whether it’s to get away or to get closer. “I know I’m not like a mortal man, but trust me,” he grunts as he finally bottoms out inside of you, “you’ll take me anyway, and you’ll love every minute of it.”

The spines dig into your flesh, making your eyes water stinging sensation it causes. He gives you only a second to adjust before he’s thrusting, causing you to scream at the explosion of sensation.

He grips your hips as he pounds into you, forcing you back to meet his every thrust. There is one particularly large bump along his length that hits a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars with every single movement, and your whole body quivers as your stomach tightens.

You feel like you’re going to burn up from the inside, sweat dripping from your face and hitting the floor as the sound of pants and moans fill the room. His heavy balls hit your clit with every sharp snap of his hips, and the wet sounds your bodies make as they connect are positively obscene.

“Shit shit shit,” you chant as you clamp down around the many ridges along length, causing pleasure and pain to shoot through you which in turn makes you clench down even harder. “Fuck, it feels so - fuck it feels amazing,” you whine, realizing that your hand has come underneath you to begin stroking your throbbing, aching clit. Your mind is so foggy that you aren’t even aware when you started.

But the tight circles you’re rubbing on your swollen little clit are not getting you any closer to that blissful climax. Everytime you get close, it seems to fade away, and you whine from deep in the back of your throat.

“Oh my, do you want to cum again, little one?” Kurogiri’s deep voice rumbles. “Beg me to take your soul and I will let you.”

The reality of the situation crashes back into you all at once. Of course, how could you forget? You’re being fucked into submission by a demon that you were stupid enough to release from the summoning circle. You can’t give in, can’t let him have your soul -

“Fuck, no, why,” you whimper in a choked sob as your orgasm slips away from you yet again. Your fingers increase their speed, grinding down so hard on your clit that you’re beginning to get sore. You push back against the demon’s every thrust, hoping against hope that maybe you can fool him.

But as if he can hear your thoughts, he instantly stops moving and your orgasm falls even further away from you. Tears of frustration are streaming from your eyes and hitting the floor underneath you. “Please!”

“I can do this forever, have you hovering at the edge with no release until you go mad with the desperate need to cum. Do you think you can hold on that long, little one?” He mocks you as he begins to move again, fast enough that it’s pleasurable but not as fast or as hard as you need right now.

“N-n-n-o, please!”

“Then say it. Say your soul belongs to me, and I will give you whatever you desire, little one.” He moves your hand away from your clit to replace it with his own. “Don’t you want to feel how good it is to cum around a demon’s cock?”

You’re sobbing and trembling, the fire in you threatening to consume you if you don’t cum right this moment. But still you shake your head back and forth, fighting not to give in to this sadistic demon.

“Come now, little one,” he whispers into your ear. “No one is going to save you from me. Just give in and I will make you feel better than you have ever felt.”

As he grazes over your clit with one finger at the same time as the ridge pushes against your g-spot, your willpower finally snaps completely. “Kurogiri, my soul is yours! Please just let me cum, please!”

He chuckles a bit, slightly at first before building into a triumphant, booming laugh that seems to come from deep inside of him. “The contract is sealed.” You feel a sharp tugging from within you, at the very core of your being. Everything in your being seems to be screaming out at once as purple mist shoots out from him to enter your body before disappearing, forming a connection between the two of you that will never be broken.

You want to consider the implications behind it, want to rage and scream at what was just done to you. But then he begins to move, and reason flies out of your head and is replaced with pure lust.

Rough fingers dig deep into the skin of your hips as he begins to ruthlessly pound into your aching pussy, thumb grinding down hard on your clit. He pushes against your g-spot with every single movement, and it isn’t long before the pressure reaches a crescendo.

You wail as you’re finally pushed over the edge, juices gushing from you as you squirt all over the demon’s cock. He doesn’t give you a moment to breathe, fucking you roughly through your orgasm and overstimulating you through several more orgasms.

Finally, he begins to twitch and throb, shoving himself fully inside of you as hot ropes of cum spurt out against your unprotected cervix. The warmth spreading out feels hot enough to burn your insides, and you cum one last time with a strangled howl before collapsing limply onto the floor.

You feel dizzy, the room spinning wildly as you try to catch your bearings. He collects you into his arms, the mist that makes up his face seeming to form into a smirk. “Now you belong to me, little one.”

“What are you going to do with me?” You say weakly, not able to move or try to get out of his arms. “Are you going to let me go now?

“Of course not. I have waited too long for you, and now I have you. Your body and soul are both mine, forever.”

You’re not sure why you feel so weak all of a sudden, body becoming heavy and sluggish as if you’re being drained of energy. You’re beginning to lose consciousness, vision turning purple around the edges. But his wording causes a thought to form. “I did the summoning correctly, didn’t I?”

He chuckles a bit. “Yes, you did. But I was waiting, and I killed the pathetic demon you tried to summon.”

“And our deal? Were you ever sincere about it?”

“Of course I was sincere about it. In fact, your ex is already dead. Not only did they dare to put their hands on what’s mine, they discarded you like a piece of trash once they were done. Their punishment in the afterlife will be quite severe.” “What’s happening to me?” You whimper, voice breaking at the end from fear and confusion.

He grins maliciously at you. “I am draining you of every bit of life force you have. You will die, and your soul will be tied to mine for eternity.”

“But your oath!” You try desperately to stop this, to avoid being killed by this demon. “You said you wouldn’t betray me!”

“It's not betrayal if I intended to do this from the beginning, now is it?”

Your mouth falls open in horror of how stupid you’ve been, how truly in over your head you were.

“Now fade away, little one. Don’t fight it. When you wake up, you’ll be in your new home. In Hell with me, where you belong.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Kinktober: @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @wings-flames-and-ashes, @burnedbyshoto, @bakugotrashpanda, @dee-madwriter, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @angie-1306, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @tenkoshimmy, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @thirstyforthem2dmen, @blissfulignorance2000, @bluecookies02-main, @aryjaa, @theodora3022, @raekah, @ineedmorefanfics, @serosmissingtoe, @deathmemeiverse, @chibikochannumberone, @saint-eridell, @miscellaneous-bnha, @katsukis-sad-angel

#kinktober 2020 #kurogiri x reader #kurogiri smut #yandere kurogiri #kurogiri #bnha x reader #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha x reader #mha smut #yandere mha #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: cheating #tw: coercion #tw: manipulation

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clacing · 2 years

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wait i wanna hear ur homura hot take

I'm glad you asked *pulls out Power Point presentation*

I want to make it clear that while i’m very much on the “Homura did nothing wrong” train, that’s not because I actually don’t think she’s done anything wrong but because so many people are left confused by what exactly it is she’s done in the first place and why she’s done it, and in order to try to make sense of what they’ve seen they start literally making stuff up to get mad at her over. And it’s a shame because you can absolutely tell the writers knew the movie was going to be controversial and that's why they acknowledged pretty much everything they needed to right there in the text

I think the most popular bad faith interpretation of her actions, and the one that most makes my blood boil, is that “she damned the whole world just so she could keep Madoka to herself”. Setting aside the fact that we don’t know what exactly the repercussions on the world will be, and that for now the world she’s created seems fairly happy for everyone but Homura herself, her “just wanting Madoka for herself” is not only disgustingly out of character, but something that’s discredited in the movie. Madoka was literally coming to take her with her in the Law of Cycles forever. If being with Madoka was what she wanted, she could have had it. She turned it down twice.

Homura was willing to spend all of eternity in her cursed state, without ever being found by the Law of Cycles, if that meant Madoka would be safe. Homura’s mission of protecting Madoka never stopped, not even when Madoka became a god - it just shifted into protecting the new world Madoka created, into preserving her order. In Wraith Arc (for a third time) she refuses to meet Madoka again, even though she theoretically has the power to, because she feels Madoka would be disappointed in her if she just gave up like that, and even Sayaka, in Rebellion, mentions how hard Homura has been working. As hard as it was, she’d accepted Madoka’s sacrifice and she was perfectly fine fighting so that her sacrifice wouldn’t have been in vain, because she truly believed it was what Madoka had wanted. Despite wanting Madoka more than anything in the world and arguably wanting to die for a long time, she’s been soldiering on, doing her best to make Madoka proud, waiting to be with Madoka again, and yet when she’s presented with the opportunity she denies herself the peace she’s longed so much for because it would put Madoka in danger.

Her job is just never done because the Incubators are never going to stop trying to get to Madoka, and if they do her sacrifice - a sacrifice that Homura, after the flowerbed scene, is now convinced Madoka was forced into making! A sacrifice that she thinks is making Madoka miserable! - is going to be meaningless. And she can’t protect Madoka if Madoka takes her into the Law Of Cycles - so she pulls her down with her and rewrites the world to give her the life she should have had, all while taking the burden of being the awful, awful person who overthrew God onto herself. And yeah, her actions are misguided and definitely reckless - not that there was any time to think her options through, really - but they are not the actions of a horrible, selfish monster, even if that's what Homura herself would like to believe.

What bothers me even more is the implication that Homura is somehow doing this because she wants Madoka to love her? I have read the worst things - that she’s trying to manipulate her, that she wants to isolate her from her other friends, that she’s meant to represent an abusive partner... my dudes, Homura literally ends the movie by telling Madoka that she doesn’t even care if they become enemies, because she’ll just keep wishing for a world where Madoka can be happy. She gives back Madoka’s ribbons, their red string of fate, while saying this. She knows what she’s doing is wrong and she knows Madoka might end up hating her for it. She doesn’t care about reciprocation - she cares about protecting Madoka. To an unhealthy and (self?) destructive degree! But still not in any way that could be described as being for her own gain.

(That’s not to say that she doesn’t want reciprocation at all - but she’s never acted on her feelings before, even withdrawing from Madoka entirely in later timelines to be able to focus on protecting her better, and she hates herself far too much to start now)

AND ONE MORE THING I hate when people say Homura did what she did “because she’s obsessed with Madoka”. I don’t think anyone could deny that she is obsessed with Madoka, but obsession wasn’t what was driving her. The movie literally tells you it wasn’t (”What is that? Obsession? Desire? No, it’s something else”). They make a big deal out of Homura revealing to Kyubey that her soul gem was corrupted by love. And this might just be a pet peeve of mine but love is not always good and healthy and it not being presented in a sanitized light for once doesn’t somehow make it Not Love. So it bothers me that people looked at a traumatized 14 year old doing everything in her power to save the girl she loves from a terrible fate and then went on to call her a yandere or a sociopath or a psycho lesbian even though the writers bent over backwards to prove them wrong.

#SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG I'M BAD WITH WORDS AND HAVE A LOT OF OPINIONS #held off on going on several tangents there but this is already too long and i could just talk about homura for days #Anonymous #homura akemi #madoka magica

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cowboyjen68 · 2 years

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i am currently going through my first real breakup. i’ve been through plenty of breakups but that’s all from when i was stuck in a long cycle of compulsory heterosexuality. i spent years thinking i was broken and incapable of love because i was forcing myself to date men. my girlfriend and i just broke up soon after our three year anniversary. it’s surrounded by a lot of confusion and vague communication but it came completely out of the blue, just two weeks after telling me she still gets butterflies when we see each other. just a week after spending the night watching movies cuddling and her affirming her love for me, unsolicited.

she has grown a lot in the 4 years i’ve known her and in the last year has started HRT, started therapy to deal with her extreme and lifelong unchecked trauma, but her therapist was unreliable and has been out of therapy for months. she recently had her estrogen upped, and it’s changed so much about her physically and mentally and emotionally and without a therapist that is a lot for her as a person who is avoidant and has been untreated for her neurodivergence and mental illness her entire life. she is imploding and self destructing in a lot of areas of her life and making impulsive decisions, and all the while spiraling with her depression.

we have nothing going on that would provoke this breakup. we get along perfectly, we have done nothing but grow closer and more in love since we met, there is no mistreatment or major issues aside from her trauma with intimacy that she has worked and come far with. after the breakup she wanted to talk to me everyday but she doesn’t have the capacity to talk about anything involving the breakup, but i only want to talk about that to try and understand what happened. i am a super communicative person and she is avoidant in general. she always worked hard to communicate while we were together but now she is shutting down. so now we’re not talking at all for about a week now - the longest we’ve gone since meeting. she’s still in a deep depression and doesn’t seem to understand why.

easy to see as a person looking in on her what’s going on and know that it’s likely not about me. this is clearly a side effect of the worst mental health episode she’s ever had. and during such a sensitive time as a transition and recovering from a decades worth of intense trauma without anybody by her side knowing the extent of her issues but me - a breakdown like this is inevitable.

i just don’t know how to deal with not talking to her suddenly. not having her with me. at 34 years old - she was the first real, true, deep, passionate love i ever had. she was the first person i truly became selfless and a full, healthy partner to. i was always a horrible partner to all the people i dated before her and it’s so rare i find someone i want to spend my life with at all let alone in a romantic capacity. she and i are perfect together and connect like neither of us had experienced before. she literally showed me i had a capacity for real love. it’s been a month since this started and i’m completely broken.

i am sorry for the rant - i just enjoy reading everything you say about love and relationships and am so desperate for wise lesbian perspective.

I am sorry you are hurting. Breakups are hardly ever easy. This all sounds very hard and a bit more than I can help you with. Please seek therapy in some form or other. Talking it through with an objective professional will likely be very beneficial for you to get some closure and some ideas on how to move forward. I wish you luck in healing and a brighter future.

I can tell you. There is truth to the saying the "time heals all wounds" but in the meantime it hurts and it sucks and you have to work at it. As you heal keep yourself in mind, You have the right to focus on your mental health and well being. DO not feel at all the least bit guilty about centering yourself.

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unrestedjade · 3 years

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Baseless Ferengi headcanons no one asked for and that get increasingly queer-navel-gazing and self indulgent because the horrible space goblins have consumed my brain:

- Mobile ears, because if hearing is so well developed and important to them they should be able to aim those big stupid radar dishes. Also because then they can emote with them and that's cute. THE AESTHETIC IS PARAMOUNT.

- Since they canonically sharpen their teeth with chew sticks and sharpeners, their teeth must grow continuously. So I submit: subcultures that let certain teeth grow out as a fashion/political statement. Ferengi punks and anarchists with 5" tusks. Ferengi with all their teeth filed flat (mom and dad HATE it).

- Corollary to the above, most of their teeth are crooked. At the least, they don't share our fetish for straight teeth. What if their teeth are deciduous, and there's no point in trying to force them into perfect alignment, since they'll just fall out and get replaced? So like, sharks but their teeth can also grow longer with no limit. WHAT HAST EVOLUTION WROUGHT ON FERENGINAR :V

- Parents nagging their kids to sharpen their teeth "or they'll grow up into your brain and you'll die :)"

- Personal space? Don't know her.

Okay I need a cut because there's too many now. WHOLE SOCIETY OF GAY HOMOPHOBIC UNCLES AND AUNTS GO I HAVE A PROBLEM

- I can't remember who on here put forth the idea of them having retractable claws but Yes. :3

- Pushing back against the worst canon episode a bit but: relative ear size being the only obvious sexually dimorphic trait, and even that having enough of a gray area that the only way to be 100% sure you're talking to a male or female Ferengi is if you do a blood test. Unless they're intersex! *shrug emoji*

- This is why they're so fanatical about gender conformity and their Victorian "separate spheres" attitude to men and women's roles. Capitalist patriarchy is fragile! And as artificial to Ferengi as it ever was to Humans! (self-indulgenceeeee about gender shiiiiit)

- You know how with domesticated rabbits, the rabbit getting groomed and paid attention to is the boss? Yeah. Go ahead and paint your bestie's nails, just don't be surprised if she cops a little bit of an attitude with you from then on.

- Their fight/flight/freeze/fawn instincts skew heavily toward the last three, and what a lot of other species read as annoying sucking up is the Ferengi in question feeling anxious and unsafe. Especially if they don't feel integrated into the group. Even being at the bottom of the pecking order is better than not being in the flock at all.

- If they DO opt for fight, it's ugly and typically their last resort. Bites or scratches will get infected without intervention-- microbes that their immune system can handle could cause big trouble for aliens. You might wanna check for full or partial teeth that break off and get lodged in the wound, too.

- Too many of these are tooth related but I don't care. :B More teeth stuff: you know what else has teeth that grow constantly? Puffer fish. Likewise, Ferengi can chew up mollusk shells as easy as potato chips, and they need the minerals for their teeth. (Imagine grandpa Sisko offering Nog a crayfish for the first time and watching as he just...pops the whole damn thing in his mouth and crunches away...)

- Their staple foods seem to be grubs and other arthropods, high in protein and fat. I've unilaterally decided their cuisine also involves a lot of edible fungi, ferns, plant shoots and seeds. Gotta get those vitamins. Overall flavor profile leaning toward umami, vegetal, and fresh herbs, and pretty mild (or "delicate" if you wanna be snooty about it, which a Ferengi probably would let's be real).

- Not much sugary food. I'm basing this solely on Quark's aversion to root beer as "cloying". Which could definitely just be his personal preference, but most of the people I hear hating on root beer cite the actual sassafras/sarsaparilla flavor (saying it tastes like medicine) not the sweetness. Nog might be the weirdo outlier for being able to enjoy it.

- Their home planet isn't bright and sunny, so their eyes are better at discerning shades of gray in low light conditions, with relatively weak color vision. Which could explain why they dress Like That.

- Conversely, human music has a reputation for stinking on ice because a lot of it is juuuuust lightly dissonant or out of tune because we can't pick up flaws that small. Ferengi can, and it drives them up the *wall*.

- Music? So many different kinds. Traditionally, maybe lots of percussion and winds, and water as a common component of many instruments to alter pitch or tone. Polyphony out the ass. Some of the modern stuff is an impenetrable wall of sound if you're not a species with a lot of brain real estate devoted to processing sounds. Pick out one melody to follow at a time.

- Yes, back to teeth again I'm sorry. It's a sickness. At some point in their history, pre-chewing food was just something you did for your baby or great grandma as a matter of necessity. Possibly your baby gets an important boost to their immune system and gut biome from your spit. At some point takes on a more formal intimacy aspect and gradually drifted from something all adults and older kids do to something only women do. Your husband and older kids have perfectly functional teeth, but you love them, right? =_= (Think old memes about husbands being useless in the kitchen if little wifey isn't there to cook, but even more ridiculous. Ishka was right about everything but especially this. Thank you for making your family chew their own food, Ishka. Not all heroes wear capes. Or anything!)

- How did they get started on the whole men: clothed vs women: unclothed nonsense? My equally stupid idea: men just get cold easier. Those huge ears dissipate a ton of body heat. Cue Ferengi cliches like "jeez, we could be standing on the surface of the sun and my husband would put on another layer." At some point, again, this got codified and pushed to ridiculous extremes in the name of controlling women and keeping everyone in their assigned box, to the point that women just have to shiver if they really are too cold and men have to pass out from heat stroke if the alternative is going shirtless, because That Would Be Inappropriate.

- Marriages default to five years, but they're also the only avenue for women to have their own household or any stability. Plus their religion places no emphasis on purity save for pure adherence to the free market and the RoA. So, curveball to the rest of their patriarchal bullshit: female virginity isn't a concern in the least. Bring it up and they'll rightly side-eye you.

- Family law is absolutely bonkers and lawyers that specialize in it make BANK. I feel like custody would default to the father usually but oh wait, the maternal grandfather has a legal stake in this, too, and your next father-in-law is asking HOW many kids are you dragging into my daughter's house, etc etc. Growing up with a full sibling is way rarer than growing up with half or stepsiblings, since it usually takes both men and women two or three tries to find someone they vibe with. (Not love, unless you're super cringe.)

- A misogynistic society is a homophobic society. Imo those flavors of shittiness just come in pairs. Homosexual behaviors are fine within certain parameters (aka "always have sex with the boss") but not on your own terms. To add spice, bisexuality is their most common mode (because I'm bi and these are my hcs for my fics I'm not writing, so there), but capitalism demands fresh grist for the mill so you better get het-married and pop out some kids you lowly peons. You have a choice so make the proper one. :)

- Corollary to the above, that doesn't keep all kinds of illicit "we're just friends with quid-pro-quo benefits for realsies" affairs of every stripe and every gender from going on everywhere. Many Ferengi have a lightbulb moment somewhere in early adulthood when they figure out their dad's business partner or the "auntie" who visited their mom every month had a little more going on.

- Plus there's way more gender non-conformity and varying degrees of trans-ing than the powers that be have a handle on. Pel isn't unique, even if most would have to somehow make it out into space to be able to thrive.

Damn a lot of these are just my personal bugbears plus THE GILDED AGE BUT WITH HAIRLESS SPACE RODENTS ain't they

- Women can't earn profit, okay. But lending or "lending" things to each other isn't commerce, riiiiiiight? To be assigned female is to master navigating a vast, dizzying barter/gift economy. Smart boys and men leverage this, too, and there are splinter sects that view this as the purest expression of the Great Material Continuum.

- Of course plenty of women make profit anyway, and just do their bast to dodge the FCA. The tough thing about insisting on using latinum as currency is that cash can be so hard to track, you know?

- Because of the RoA, guys are discouraged from doing favors or giving gifts without setting clear expectation of getting some return on investment. This can twist into an expression of friendship (and of course women do it too), and the ledger will keep cycling between debit and credit among friends for decades. A common mistake aliens make is to tell them recompense isn't needed without explaining why, or return their favor or present with something that zeroes out the debt. The Ferengi will assume you want to break off the friendship. (I cribbed this from dim memories of an African studies course I took in 2007 and whose textbook I know I still have but I can't frigging find it...)

- Flirting, they do a lot of it for a lot of reasons. Roddenberry made it clear that they're just straight up pretty horny, but there's no reason it can't pull double duty for building alliances with other people, smoothing over feuds or disagreements, or cementing friendships. Ferengi who are ace and/or sex-repulsed are possibly viewed similar to the way we'd view someone who's "not a hugger/not big on touching" and if they flirt just don't get offended if it doesn't go any further; aro Ferengi don't garner much comment aside from an occasional "wow how badass, never falling in love with anyone."

- where to even start on making sense of the Blessed Exchequer??? Like seriously, what is this literal prosperity gospel insanity, I need to force myself to re-read Rand and like, some Milton Friedman for this shit. Help.

- fuck I'm probably going to actually do that, RIP me...

#ds9 #star trek #meta #ferengi #i love them Too Much help #reliving my brief libertarian phase from high school from the opposite direction #my heart wants to make them simultaneously as queer and as repressed as possible #i didn't even make it to the goddamned blessed exchequer my head is too full #i will find beauty in this vulgarity if it kills me #this is too long #why did i spend my time this way

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thedivinedemom · 3 years

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An AU of DC with a mass crossover of PS4 properties.

Provisional name: Players Searching for Detectable Changes (Get the pun?)

The setup:

This is the future of DC, a world where the old guard has slowly withdrawn and the newer generations have risen to the occasion. The original Titans in particular, most of which have formed the new Justice League while many other, very similar teams had started to form across the world. One of which was a resurgence of the Teen Titans, led by an older and purified Raven. She wanted to make the Teen Titans something akin as it was for her, a place to belong and learn to use one's powers.

The first 'class' of such individuals include:

Stargirl (of the now-disbanded JSA and still getting used to the Starrod)

Blue Beetle III (Freshly attached to his alien symbiote and freaking out a bit)

Robin V (to work on his anger issues, mostly at the new Batman's request)

Kaldur (a half Atlantean half metahuman who is struggling with his identity and the surface world, Aquaman feels a kinship for the boy seeing their similarities)

Static Shock (a promising new hero but little experience working outside his city or in groups)

Mary Marvel (she's... she's going through alot. Fresh from a coma, her brother is distant as he acts as the new Wizard, and she may be, sorta kinda, being corrupted by Black Adam's gifted power)

The team was rough and there was plenty of head butting (Mostly between Stargirl and Robin/Damian as one is almost the unanimous leader while the other thinks he should be) but they were getting there. They were more of a clean up crew for the Justice League, they did more than the "kiddie missions" that the Outsiders didn't do, and they meant more than the PR grab that was the International team. Though they didn't seem to amount to more than that. They still did their best, pushing past the silent ridicule, as they went about their missions.

This may be why tempers were so high that day.

One day, outside a little city by the name of Weller's Point, the prisoner transport for the villain Plasmus had an "accident". Released and awakened the creature went on a rampage, heading ever closer to the populated area. Luckily, the mentor of the New Teen Titans could teleport. The new team did fairly well in the fight, though they did struggle a bit as Plasmus was not a being where simple brute force would work. It made the fight tricky and more than a bit... messy.

Messy enough that juvenile and emotionally compromised Mary Marvel lashed out against the downed villain but was stopped by her teammates... things escalated from there. Restraint turned blows and the whole team struggled to stop their powerhouse without hurting her. The ones who do the best are Raven, Stargirl, Blue Beetle, and oddly Static.

While both of the former could use their abilities to restrain her to a very effective degree Static was actively draining her of strength, or at least of the electic aura she was radiating and blasting with. Frustrated, done with the situation, and a bit petty Mary launched her largest attack yet by saying her magical word.

SHAZAM.

Virgil did what he did best, he handled that lightning as it came crashing down towards Mary and the Titans restraining her. Well, he tried. The bolt was just too powerful, too unlike anything he had ever encountered. He could not handle it and it was dissipating, if anything it clung to him or tried to jump towards the girl. He had to get rid of it and he had to get rid of it quickly, safely too if he could help it.

He shoved it into the ground, into the power lines. He did it as carefully as he could, trying to prevent overload or flashover as guided the charge into the power grid.

What happened next was a combination of a few things. 1. The Mystic and transformative properties of the Lightning, 2. It is effectively being filtered through a bang baby, 3. The kryptonite power plant owned by, provided by, and operated by Lexcorp.

This interaction, this new charge, cycling through the power grid interacted strangely with a number of devices but none more so than PlayStation 4s and the devices connected to them. This new electricity changed things, literally. It brought fantasy into reality.

Whatever game was loaded into became a part of our reality in a small way. Sometimes TVs, Controllers, and even the system changed to reflect items from the game but the bigger change came with the Players. If a person was playing their console during the surge then they would become a metahuman with abilities based on the playable character they were playing.

The city, the county even, was now flooded by an abundance of metahumans and items of varying power of devastation. Static felt horrible.

He couldn't help but compare what has happened here to what happened in Dakota City but on a wider scale. And this time it was his fault. His sense of responsibility wouldn't, couldn't, let that stand. He had to fix his mistake and his team was dragged along for the ride.

The story to follow is a mix of Final Crisis and Kingdom Come with a bit of the Young Justice cartoon in events and themes, a few twists and likely a bit lighter in tone but to the DC geeks this should give a rough idea… Maybe a bit of Marvel's Civil War but hopefully not the rushed knee-jerk mess that that ended up being.

But it's here that I start having issues with my planning. One part in worry as outside the set up we start to follow the perspective of OCs (something rarely smiled upon) and another part in wondering which OC to focus on.

Now, one thing I love in fiction is progressive powers and the conflict escalating from the different paths people take in said progression. In that vein, I have a pair of protags in mind as well.

The main two/co-protagonists:

The Lawkeeper- a cop before the change and now a member of a task force made up largely of those affected by the surge. A gamer, a man of color, and a believer of the spirit of the law. He doesn't always get along with his fellow officers but he believes in what the blue does. He believes that an organized response is what is best.

His abilities are based on those of Jesse Fades of Control. Meaning he has tremendous psychic potential but he needs 3 things to reach his full potential.

1.Items to bond to so he can generate these psychic abilities. Jesse's used altered items of her universe to get thematic abilities from them (ex: a safe to generate a shield, a carousel horse for a dash ability, ect). Here he can use items generated by the surge.

2. A patron/partner entity to help guide, give insights, and empower. It also let's the user enforce reality, basically becoming an anti reality warper.

3. A bonded morph weapon or a weapon to come to his hand when called.

The knight- a recent college graduate who instantly decided to go the route of the caped hero. She, after figuring out how to get her powers to work, instantly went the route of a caped crusader. Going out to the streets, saving lives, stopping instances of surge item abuse, and (in the humble opinion of the local Police Department) getting in the way of operations. In her opinion they were taking too long to get things done.

Her abilities are based on those of Prince Noctis of Final Fantasy XV. This means she has tremendous physical and magical potential but like the above she has a number of check marks needed to gain access to the character's full power.

1. A gem/crystal to draw power from.

2. 13 magical weapons to boost strength. The generated game weapons will do and I have most picked out in a way that likely would help the plot progress.

3. The blessing of 5-6 gods.

4. A power ring of some king to channel all this power.

I keep debating the two above as I do like the idea of both of them climbing in power and clashing over conflicting ideals of what to do with their power. At the same time, I think that just smooshing aspects of both into one (which is actually where they started, a single character) and play off the different ideologies of how best to help people from within her friend group and precinct along with internal conflict. Maybe have the one be a fellow officer they butt heads with because of the... precarious nature

Another OC I was thinking on, keeping with the theme of what to do when you have power, is a thief who played Persona 5. Like both of the above they would be crippled in their ability to use their abilities without a way to fake the connection to. In this case, without the Mementos App, they would need an item that could affect or enter the hearts of others. Luckily, more unlucky really, there are plenty of items floating around that can do just that. Namely Keyblades.

Most other Players are an odd mix but most are variations of the Shooter build. Peak physical humans who heal quickly and often have bullet time. But there are enough other variations to cause trouble. Demigods of unreal strength, men and women who can easily tap into a patron for powers from the outside, 2 variations of spider powers, cat eyed men and women who can cast magic with simple gestures, and so much more. But the real issue was the first two, the demigods without a parent to protect them and those easily connected to a divine source.

The disembodied New Gods of Apocalypse were very happy with those groups. For how bad this can be please look at what happened to Mary Marvel in canon Final Crisis.

Thoughts and opinions would be appreciated.

#dc community #fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fandom #playstation #mass crossover #orginal character #dc fanfiction #dc fanfiction idea #outline

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shutupandshipit · 3 years

Text

Sharpen Your Blades - Ch.17

Summary: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The thinning of Aizawa’s patience was evident in the twitching of his brow. “If you stop asking questions, maybe I could finish explaining.

”With a huff and roll of his eyes, Katsuki glanced away from their coach.

“City Hall and the SC want us to give them more variety. We are a team solely made up of single skaters. Every year, we dominate the rankings for single skate while Shinketsu dominates the pairs, so this year both cities are being required to split their skaters evenly between singles and pairs with at least one pair coming from out top five.” There was a collective intake of breath, but no one commented, choosing instead to remain silent. “Unfortunately, for us, it’s a lot easier to switch from pairs to singles. With our male to female ratio, alpha/beta/omega ratio, and those of you actually experienced with pair skating, we’re at a disadvantage. So, I’ve decided to choose your partners for you.”

…..

Or where Katsuki and Izuku are forced to be partners so they can continue to compete, but the blood in the water may be thicker than anyone realized.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: E

Chapter: 17/20

Previously <- Chapter 16: Heats and Ruts

Chapter 18: ??? -> Next (coming 5/30)

Author’s Note: This chapter is pretty much exclusively sexy times with plot bits sprinkled in. If you don’t want to read it, the last section is tame. Otherwise, you’re gonna have to wait for the next chapter, hons. Thanks for coming to my PSA!

Chapter 17: Staying inside

Inko stood behind Izuku, hand pressed between his shoulder blades. “Go one, honey, it’ll be alright. Everyone out there is brand new too.” When he didn’t step forward, she asked, “Don’t you want to be like Daddy?”

Izuku nodded, but he didn’t look at her. He was staring out across the ice at all the other three and four and five year olds cautiously scooting around the ice. Some held tightly to their parents’ hands. Some held on tightly to each other. Others were plastered to the wall.

There was only one kid making ever more confident, if a little shaky, circles around center ice. Ash blonde hair and ruby red eyes, Izuku wanted to be exactly like him, but he was too shy.

The boy’s eyes caught Izuku’s before Izuku could duck away behind Inko’s legs.

After a couple minutes, a voice called, “Hey, you, kid! What’s your name?”

Izuku peaked out again to find the boy standing right in front of them, staring Izuku directly in the eyes. “I-I-Izuku,” he stuttered.

“Hah? Deku? What kind of name is that?”

Pouting, Izuku came out a little further. “Not Deku. Izuku.”

“Whatever. I’m Katsuki. Are you going to come out and skate or what?”

Izuku turned nervous eyes back to the ice. “I want to, but-”

“Then hurry up!” Katsuki interrupted, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the edge of the ice.

Izuku stumbled along behind him. “H-hold on, Kacchan! I don’t know how to skate!”

“That’s why we’re here, dummy! Hurry up!”

Izuku glanced back up at his eyes, and was swallowed immediately by the sheer determination there. After a moment, he nodded and let Katsuki drag him onto the ice.

…..

Izuku excavated his arms from his blanket, wrapping them around Katsuki’s neck as he hurried them down the hall of their apartment building. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he mumbled frantically as his body trembled from the pain and hot watery saliva filled his mouth. Fear and the sense of safety clashed horribly in his chest. On the one hand, he didn’t have a nest nor did he have the certainty of food or water or even a locked door, which was driving his omega into a frenzy. On the other hand, he had Katsuki’s arms around him and his heartbeat against his ear and the certainty that Katsuki would never let anything happen to him.

He didn’t notice they were in Katsuki’s apartment until he was being unceremoniously dropped in a nest. Unfurling from the blanket, he surveyed the nest. It was perfect. Exactly how he would have built one if he’d allowed himself. A mountain of plush pillows and plusher blankets all arranged for optimal coziness.

Izuku’s omega took the reins, forgetting everything besides including the red blanket and himself into the nest. He barely registered Katsuki standing over his shoulder, staring at him.

When he’d gotten everything incorporated properly, he went to work on stripping out of his clothes.

Katsuki whispered, “Jesus fuck.”

Snapping his head up, he stared at the alpha. His expression was strained, fingers curled into fists at his sides. He panted, pupils dilated wide and body trembling.

“Kacchan?”

Katsuki swallowed before turning quickly. “I’m going to lock myself in my room so I don’t do anything we’ll both regret.”

“Wait- Kacchan-” The door slammed before Izuku could say anything more, and he stared down at the nest forlornly.

‘Alpha… left?’ his omega whined in confusion, ‘Alpha close. Alpha come. Alpha built a nest, but alpha not in nest.’

‘We can’t force Kacchan to do something he doesn’t want to do yet. We only just started courting. Sharing our cycles is a big step,’ he reminded his omega, but still, disappointment sat heavy in his stomach. He didn’t have long to think on his disappointment before the heat reared up again. His whole mind was consumed by his heat, going blank with need.

…..

Katsuki came to panting breathlessly, fingers locked around plush hips, digging into soft flesh. He was buried in Izuku’s body, trembling with aftershocks as Izuku clenched around him and whined desperately, wordlessly. “Wh-what the-” he panted, confused more than anything else. He couldn’t remember getting naked, couldn’t remember climbing into the nest, couldn’t remember fucking Izuku.

He couldn’t remember fucking Izuku.

He snarled viciously, angrily wishing he could direct it at his alpha. Because of his alpha, he couldn’t remember the moment he’d been dreaming of for years. He couldn’t remember a single detail of sliding into Izuku for the first time, of making him cry out his name, of knotting him.

Worse of all, he couldn’t remember if Izuku had said yes. He couldn’t remember if Izuku had said it was what he wanted. The last thing he could recall was locking himself in his bedroom and pressing his face into his pillows to try and smother the scent of Izuku in the other room.

Clearly, that hadn’t worked.

Izuku made a noise beneath him, chest pressed in the very visibly dry blankets below them, body trembling as his fingers gripped the fabric for purchase. He whined again, high and reedy, like a dog in pain. He strained against Katsuki’s hands, but Katsuki’s grip kept him firmly in place.

Bile rose in the back of Katsuki’s throat. Immediately, he started to loosen his grip. “Fuck, Deku, I’m sorry. I thought- I’m usually conscious during-”

Izuku pressed desperately back against him, whining as he struggled for movement while Katsuki’s knot kept them firmly tied together.

Katsuki was at as loss for words as he watched Izuku trying to fuck himself on his cock, and it took him several long moments to put two and two together. His death grip and black out. Izuku’s desperation and the dry sheets beneath him. He might have cum, but it seemed as if Izuku hadn’t. That Katsuki’s stupid fucking alpha lizard brain hadn’t let him, chasing after his own pleasure instead of worrying about the pleasure of his partner. Sex was supposed to be a push and pull, a give and take, an agreement between participants. It wasn’t supposed to be all take, take, take with no reciprocation. The whole idea made Katsuki sick to his stomach.

It made him want to rip his alpha straight from his head all the more. The only positive thing he could find about the situation was that Izuku’s neck and shoulders were unmarred.

He wasn’t sure what he would have done if he’d come out of his rut induced black out to find that he’d claimed Izuku. Possibly thrown himself off the nearest bridge because it would have been what he deserved.

Izuku’s whines had devolved into racking, heaving sobs, and Katsuki’s stomach and heart twisted around and around each other. His alpha, for the time being, was silent. Sex drunk and lounging in his own afterglow.

Katsuki hushed Izuku gently, releasing his hold completely on the omega’s waist, and leaning over him to press chest to back. “I’ve got you, Izuku, I’ve got you. Breath,” he coaxed, soothing his hands down Izuku’s sides until his breathing had leveled back out with a few hiccups.

Sliding his hand down Izuku’s chest, he just barely skimmed his fingertips over Izuku’s length before the omega shuddered and cried out. He went completely limp, Katsuki’s arm across his chest keeping him from collapsing completely.

The scent of mint and a lightning storm and sweet summer apples filled the air, and Katsuki’s alpha lifted its head in interest. Katsuki shoved it back down, basking instead in the sheer pleasure of Izuku’s pleasure.

Katsuki lowered the two of them completely into the nest on their sides, dragging the red nesting blanket over them. Izuku’s chest was vibrating wildly with the force of his purr, eyes closed and body utterly motionless. If it hadn’t been for how loud his purr was, Katsuki would have thought he was dead or something.

"I'll be right here when you come back," Katuski murmured against the back of his neck, noting the shiver that wracked his body.

With his arms tight around Izuku and his nose filled with their scents, he drifted on a wave of post-orgasm bliss. He didn’t realize he’d dozed off until he startled awake as Izuku murmured.

“Kacchan?” His eyes were still closed when Katsuki finally opened his. Somehow, he was still buried in Izuku and was halfway hard again already, but he was still conscious. That was the important part. He was still conscious, and he was bound and determined to stay that way. “Kacchan? Mm, Kacchan?”

“Here, Izuku,” Katsuki said, breath ghosting across his cheek.

When Izuku cracked those green eyes, they were clear of his heat haze. That was probably part of the reason he was verbal again. He blinked up at Katsuki rapidly, cheeks blooming red and purr coming to an abrupt stop. “K-K-Kacchan? Wh-what happened? Where are we?” His eyes grew wider as he glanced at Katsuki’s bare chest. “Why are we naked? Why are you- Oh my god!” His voice had become a mere squeak as he shifted, probably feeling Katsuki still in him. His hands shot up, covering his face.

Fear shot through Katsuki, and he bracketed Izuku in, desperate for him to understand. “I’m sorry, Deku. I’m sorry. I only came to after- My alpha took over. I’m sorry. I don’t remember how or when I got out here.”

Izuku didn’t seem to be listening though, and Katsuki shut up to hear him moan, “Oh my god, I don’t remember my first time with Kacchan! Stupid omega! Why did you do that? You couldn’t even give me this much?”

Katsuki couldn’t help it when he snorted.

Cracking his fingers open, Izuku pouted up at Katsuki with watery green eyes. “It’s not funny, Kacchan, I dreamed about that for a long time. And now I’ll never get to remember it. It’s just one more thing-”

Katsuki pulled Izuku’s hands away from his face to lean in and capture his lips. The omega’s eyes fluttered closed, and he started to purr all over again as he opened up beneath him. When they pulled apart again, Izuku was panting and red for an entirely different reason. “We’ll just have to remember this time then.”

A giggle exploded from Izuku, and he covered his face again. “Kacchan, you want to spend my heat with me?” he asked, breathless as he continued to giggle.

“Well, I can’t spend it with anyone else, can I?” he snapped without heat, “Now, my rut-” Katsuki didn’t finish that statement as big watery cow eyes peaked out from behind Izuku’s fingers again. “Kidding, nerd. Now that I’ve had your ass, even if I don’t remember it, no one else gets to have it.”

“The same goes for you,” Izuku whispered, still staring through his fingers, but he had that look of pure determination that he always got when he was getting ready to dominate a competition.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“N-n-no one else, gets to have you now. O-o-only me.”

Staring down at him for several long moments, he finally let the thought ricocheting around his brain out, “You’re hot when you’re confident, nerd.”

Again, the hands flew back up. “You can’t just say stuff like that, Kacchan!”

“I can say whatever I damn well please. And stop fucking hiding!” Katsuki wrestled with Izuku’s arms, trying to rip them away from his face until Izuku bucked back against him. They both stilled, moaning wantonly into each other’s skin. It took them several minutes of breathlessness to speak again.

“Kacchan, I want to remember this time. I want you to stay with me.”

“Me too. I want to remember.” Katsuki gripped his wrists, but when he pulled this time, they fell easily. He didn’t waste time before diving into Izuku’s mouth, rutting gently against Izuku. The quiet friction was enough to have them panting.

“Mm,” Izuku hummed against his mouth, “More. I want more.”

Pulling out and ignoring the wretched whine Izuku released, he flipped the omega onto his back and settled in between his legs. Gripping his hips, he slid back into Izuku’s heat before the omega could really start complaining. Fully seated, he fell on top of Izuku again, licking into his mouth with fervor.

Izuku moaned, legs wrapping around Katsuki’s waist and hands burying into his hair. He gripped the roots tightly, and Katsuki bucked his hips in surprise at the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Fuck, do that again,” he gasped into Izuku’s mouth, setting a frenzied pace that rocked Izuku with every thrust.

Complying, Izuku pulled at his hair again as he cried out, legs tightening around Katsuki’s hips.

“Izuku,” Katsuki grunted against his cheek, “If you keep holding me like that, I’m not going to last long.” Already, he could feel his knot beginning to inflate, each slide in and out of Izuku’s entrance harder than the last.

“I don’t care!” Izuku shouted, legs flexing around him again in a show of pure strength and making his movements stutter. “Knot me! Please! I need it!”

Growling, Katsuki removed one hand from Izuku’s hip, instead fitting it around his length. Izuku bucked up into his hand. Everything between them was slippery with sweat and precum and cum and slick. Katsuki’s fingers glided over Izuku effortlessly.

“Yes, yes, yes, right there,” Izuku chanted, moving with Katsuki now, rushing to drag their ends closer. “Please, please, please.”

“You’re going to have to hurry up yourself. I’m not going to cum before you this time.” Katsuki thrust into Izuku harder, teeth aching with the urge to sink them into Izuku. “I wanna bite you so bad.”

“No,” Izuku moaned instead, “Not yet.”

“I know,” Katsuki grit out.

Izuku’s body trembled, shaking with each thrust and pull. “Kacchan!” he cried out, clenching down around Katuski. Instead of going stiff like Katsuki had been expecting, like the last time, he thrust up into Katsuki’s hand and down onto his cock as he spilled between their bodies.

“Finally,” Katsuki growled, sinking his teeth into Izuku’s shoulders as his knot locked them together. He shuddered and stilled even as Izuku continued to move against him, spilling into the omega’s body.

…..

Morning crested with blazing orange creeping through the wide open windows of Katsuki’s apartment. Birds serenaded the rising of the sun and the wonderfully dull aching pain in Izuku’s hips as he shifted in the arms slung around him. Despite the freezing temperature of the air tickling his cheeks from the window he couldn’t remember either of them opening, he was comfortably warm. Not mid-wave of his heat warm, but sitting in the summer sun warm.

He’d never felt so completely satisfied in his life. For once, it was easy to breath.

Until it was all interrupted by the obnoxious buzzing of plastic across hardwood. Burrowing beneath Katsuki’s side, Izuku was resolute to just ignore it. The buzzing went silent after an extended period of time, and Izuku sighed happily. Then it started ringing again. He released a frustrated groan, but remained exactly where he was. The heat in his body was beginning to build again, and he knew another wave would be hitting him sooner rather than later. All he wanted was to rest until then. The buzzing stopped again and immediately started back up. “Oh my lanta,” Izuku moaned, rubbing his forehead against Katsuki’s side.

He was gearing up to reach for the offending object when Katsuki shifted to reach across him instead. The buzzing stopped, and in its place was Katsuki’s voice, deep and gravelly and sex-drenched, “Don’t you extras understand what it fucking means when someone doesn’t answer the goddamn phone.”

The sound of Katsuki's voice shot straight through Izuku, simultaneously turning him into a puddle and setting a forest fire alight in his body. He wanted nothing more than to suck his dick while that voice spat obscenities and praises in equal measure.

Katsuki didn’t seem to notice when Izuku slipped beneath the blankets. “I’m going to answer that question for you. The answer is clearly no. Stop fucking-” His rant was cut off by a deep groan.

Cold air nipped at Izuku’s fevered skin as the blankets were jerked up. Katsuki’s scarlet eyes stared down at him as he innocently stared back like he hadn’t just licked up Katsuki’s entire shaft. “Morning,” he chirped as he leaned back in to repeat the action.

Before the blanket fell back into place with another of Katsuki’s deep groans, Izuku just caught sight of his phone case through gaps in Katsuki’s fingers. He gasped, scrambling back up Katsuki’s body just as the alpha flung the phone back onto the couch. “Kacchan, that was my phone!” Izuku cried, reaching for it. He could still see that the call was connected as thick arms wrapped around his waist.

“Where do you think you’re going? You better be planning to finish what you started,” Katsuki growled playfully as they wrestled. Katsuki worked to bring him back into the nest while Izuku struggled to end the call that was. Still. Connected.

Why hadn’t the person hung up! Did they want to be scared for life? The bigger issue was that people would know. People would know that they’d spent his heat together, and they wouldn’t have gotten to open up about their courting on their own terms. It was distressing, but at the same time, Izuku didn’t know if it could work any other way. They hadn’t even talked about the courting, not really. The passed few weeks had been strife with their angst and frustration and falling into each other over and over again.

“Kacchan, the call is still connected,” Izuku whined, but his strength was failing with the heat building in his body.

“They better fucking hang up soon if they don’t want to be scared, then shouldn’t they?” he growled against Izuku’s collarbone, making him squirm with need and already mounting pleasure.

Just having Katsuki so close, being able to lie skin to skin with him, was nearly too much. At the same time, it was far from enough.

“Kacchan,” he whined again before finally submitting, and slumping into the alpha’s body.

Katsuki held him close, arms around his waist as he pressed kiss after kiss along the exposed skin of his shoulder. His fingers trailed along Izuku’s lower back, gentle and warm and undemanding.

Izuku panted against Katsuki’s shoulder, body limp as the wave took him. Every press of Katsuki’s lips and skim of his fingers sent pleasure sparking along his skin. He cock was crushed between the planes of their stomachs, already sticky with pre-cum. Slowly, Katsuki’s hands parted from each other, one burying deep in Izuku’s hair to scratch at his scalp while the other slid down to press against his entrance.

Izuku pressed weakly down into Katsuki’s hand, moaning quietly when those fingers gently pushed into him, seemingly checking to see if he needed to be prepped again. He pumped them slowly, dragging the pads of his fingers along Izuku’s inner walls. Izuku was still wet, and he didn’t want to wait for Katsuki to stretch him back out. “Kacchan, please,” he whispered, trying to press down just to get Katsuki to move, but the alpha seemed content just having his fingers in Izuku.

“Tell me what you want, Izuku, and I’ll do it for you. Anything. You just have to ask.” Katsuki’s whisper ghosted across his skin, and a shiver rocked his body.

He moaned plaintively, phone call forgotten as he arched against Katsuki’s body. “You. I want you.” He gripped Katsuki’s shoulders, digging his nails in lightly. “Please, please, I just- I want-”

Katsuki hushed him with lips against his jaw, pulling his fingers from Izuku only to replace them with his cock. He slid in easily and slowly, savoring every inch that disappeared into Izuku.

A moan slid from Izuku’s mouth as Katsuki found his home in his body, and he cried out when Katsuki gave a singular, shallow thrust to completely seat himself. Izuku came between their bodies, trembling against Katsuki as the alpha showered him with more kisses, more gentle touches, more wonderful words. “So good for me,” he whispered into Izuku’s skin, “Never imagined it like this. Could never imagine this. Tell me what you want.” He sounded almost delirious, drunk as Izuku on the rightness of their intimacy.

Because he was right. Out of all the nights he’d fantasized about being with Katsuki, he could never have imagined this.

“Take me apart.”

And Katsuki did.

…..

Katsuki had never put so much work into something in his entire life. It wasn’t simple to take Izuku apart at the seams, but it was made easier by his knowledge of the man. He was slow, methodical, finding the places that made Izuku release silent screams, the places that made him cry out, the places that made him mewl and squirm.

Even with rut running hot through his veins, his alpha now seemed content to give the omega every second of pleasure they could possibly manage and set his own pleasure aside instead of chasing madly after it. He didn’t think this was what ruts were normally like for most alphas, and he worshipped Izuku’s body for the sheer ability to. That was where true pleasure lay.

Katsuki nipped and sucked at Izuku’s pert nipples while Izuku made efforts to get movement between them, but Katsuki’s hands on his hips kept him fully seated. He slid his hands down to massage Izuku’s thighs only to return them before Izuku could get any bright ideas.

Izuku whined plaintively, hips and cock twitching with the effort to break from Katsuki’s hold. “Please, Kacchan, move,” he begged, fingernails digging deep into his shoulders, “Please! I need to feel you! I need you to move! You’re driving me insane!”

Breaking from Izuku’s chest, he mouthed along the column of his throat leaving deep red marks in his wake. “Not enough if you’re still coherent.” Izuku whined louder this time. “I quite like you being my cock warmer. You don’t?”

Burying his face in Katsuki’s hair, he groaned. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“And here I am, saying it.” Katsuki nosed along the skin beneath Izuku’s chin, stopping when he came in contact with his scent gland. He stayed there, lavishing the area with broad strokes of his tongue. “Do you want me to not say stuff like that?” he asked after a moment.

“Sometimes,” Izuku started, and Katsuki could already tell it wasn’t going to be an answer to his question, “I feel like I need a safe word just to be around you.”

Katsuki paused in his ministrations, and Izuku’s body immediately relaxed into him, chest heaving. “Am I doing something that needs a safe word?”

“I feel like you’re edging me.” Even though he was mumbling, he was so close to Katsuki’s ear that he could hear him clear as day.

“Not on purpose.” Katsuki loosened his hold on Izuku’s hips, but the omega didn’t take the opportunity as it was presented to him. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Good, because I don’t want to stop.” Katsuki hummed, satisfied. “Will you tell me if you change your mind?”

“Yes.”

Katsuki hummed again, and slowly leveraged Izuku off his lap, making the omega keen against his ear. He pushed up back into Izuku’s heat just as slowly, holding him up so he could start a tortuous rock of his hips. “‘Zuku,” he mumbled as he mouthed at Izuku’s shoulder, “Why didn’t you have anything ready for your heat?”

“Kacchan,” Izuku whined, body trembling violently as Katsuki slid home again.

“I’m not going to get mad.” Katsuki didn’t know if that was a blatant lie or not, but he’d definitely do his damnedest not to show it. This wasn’t the time for anger. Neither of them were in the right mind for it either. “I just want to know. Why didn’t you prepare?”

“I-I-I-” Izuku stuttered, eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging wide as he panted, “You’re go-going to be mad.”

“I told you I wasn’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Jerking Izuku roughly down back into his lap to force a cry from his lungs, Katsuki gently gripped his chin in his hand and pulled his face down so they were just centimeters apart. “Why did you say that you don’t want to have a heat, Deku? I want to have pups with you one day, but if that’s going to be at your detriment, then I’ll leave it. I just want to understand.”

Izuku sobbed, his chest heaving as tears all at once began to track down his face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, alpha. I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” he babbled. Distress had begun to sour the sweetness of his heat scent, rotting apples instead of crisp apples. Rain on asphalt instead of rain on a forest floor.

With a growl, Katsuki crushed their mouths together. Izuku’s mouth tasted like salt and copper, and he swiped his tongue over a cut on the inside of Izuku’s bottom lip. He pulled back again, but still not far. Never far. He wouldn’t have been able to handle it. “Izuku, listen to me,” Katsuki whispered and waited until he could glimpse those emerald eyes through cracked lids, “That’s your omega talking. This is your body, and I don’t get a say over it. If you want to have pups one day, then we have pups when you’re ready. If you never want to have pups, then we don’t have pups. In the end, the choice is yours. I just want to understand. Why don’t you want to have a heat? Why weren’t you prepared? Why did you chance taking suppressants? Every time I smell them in your scent, all I can see is you in that bed glassy eyed and barely breathing. Every time I see someone else touch you, all I can see is you broken on the ice. I just want to understand. Please, help me understand.”

“Kacchan, please, please, I need you, please,” Izuku begged, face still wet and hair hanging in damp ringlets all around him, “Please, I’ll tell you everything, please. I need you. I need- I-”

Katsuki hushed him again just like before, lips against his cheek. Again, he lifted Izuku off his lap, arms straining with hiss full weight. He was kind this time, taking up a faster pace than previously both for Izuku's sake and his own.

Izuku cried out wordlessly with each upward thrust. "More, Kacchan! More! I need your knot, please!" He all but sobbed, "Please!"

"Almost there, sweetheart," Katsuki growled, thrusting up harder each time his knot caught on Izuku's rim.

As soon as his knot breeched Izuku's entrance and locked them in place, the omega spilled hotly between them with a scream. He collapsed against Katsuki, chest heaving for breath and spasms rocking his body. It was only after his breath came under control that he whispered tiredly, "You didn't cum, Kacchan."

"I was preoccupied."

"By?"

"You cumming."

Izuku pressed his face into Katsuki's neck. "How can you just say that? Why would you want to watch that?"

Despite feeling the sudden urge to stop talking, Katsuki said, "Because you're beautiful and I get distracted by everything you do."

Izuku keened, and jerked in his lap, spent cock releasing another pathetic spurt. He squirmed more insistently, and Katsuki could have sworn he felt the omega's body temperature rise as he watched an embarrassed flush color the back of Izuku's neck and ears. "I want to feel you cum in me," he muttered, and started licking insistently and purposefully at Katsuki's scent gland.

Katsuki reacted immediately with an involuntary jerk of his hips and long moan. Grinding down into his lap, Izuku moaned along with him, leaving marks all along his neck and shoulders, but always returning to the same place.

It didn't take much for Katsuki to start pushing more insistently at Izuku's ass, unable to move as much as he wanted to. He gripped wherever he could, fingers tight on supple skin as his movements became frantic. "It's not enough," he growled, just at the edge but unable to fall over.

He didn't notice one of Izuku's hands dropping to trail behind him. At the same time as he gently gripped Katsuki's balls, he bit into Katsuki’s scent gland without breaking the skin.

"Fuck!" Katsuki spat, ramming up against Izuku so hard that they were lifted into the air. His body went still as his cock pulsed within Izuku and the omega walls clamped down tight. He felt Izuku's cock jump between them again, but no hot fluid followed. A satisfied growl rumbled through his chest, quickly turning into a purr.

After a moment of silence filled only with their harmonious purrs, Izuku said, "You called me sweetheart."

Katsuki didn't respond as his heat of exertion turned into one of embarrassment.

"I liked it."

The breath he didn't realize he'd been holding flew from his chest.

Laughing, Izuku pulled back to press a slow kiss to Katsuki's mouth before laying his head on his shoulder. "I wasn't ready because I thought I would find a way around having my heat. I… I haven't had a heat since I was twelve. The only other time I tried, it was so painful, I took the suppressants, but was still sick for days after."

"Jesus christ, don't you know how dangerous that is?"

"Yes, but I preferred to chance it than live in fear of my next heat. I just… I didn't have a choice this time. My doctors took me off because… my hormones had started to drop dangerously."

Katsuki remained silently, listening intently as Izuku sniffled.

"They took me off them and then just told me to use heat aids or find an alpha. You remember that date I went on?" Katsuki snarled in response which at least made the omega laugh. "I couldn't do it. I felt like I was cheating. I didn't want just any alpha… I… I wanted you."

"Why didn't you just tell me? We could have been doing this the whole time. We could have been mated years ago."

Izuku pulled away from Katsuki, glaring pointedly at him. "Kacchan, until October, you had barely said a word to me since we were twelve unless we were arguing. It would have stayed that way if Aizawa hadn’t made us partners again. When was I supposed to just come out and say that? I thought you hated me."

Katsuki flinched, eyes darting away from those stern green irises. "I never hated you."

"Then why?"

"I blamed myself," Katsuki blurted, feeling the truth burble up thickly inside of his chest.

"Blamed… yourself?" Izuku’s confusion was all too obvious.

"For you getting hurt. If I hadn't ended our partnership, then that scum would have never been your partner. But I wanted you to be able to skate singles, so I thought if I ended it, we'd both get to skate singles. Only that didn't happen. If you'd been skating with me that day, you never would have gotten hurt. I almost ripped the guy's throat out. And each day you weren't on the ice was another day I considered not skating anymore. You hated me because I'm basically the reason you got hurt. So leaving you alone was the best way for me to-"

Izuku cut him off with a choked sputtering. "You thought I hated you? Kacchan! I thought you hated me for dragging you down and then not being good enough to keep from getting hurt. I didn't want to drag you down anymore so I just… left you alone. I knew you didn't want anything to do with me."

Katsuki stared at him, mind reeling with the new information. And then they were laughing, holding tight to each other. "We're idiots."

"No," Izuku gasped around another giggle, "We're just really bad at communicating. Like really bad. Like I think we're the worst people at communicating on the face of the planet."

"Same thing."

"Also, Kacchan?"

Katsuki hummed, eyes on the ceiling as he traced nonsensical patterns into Izuku's lower back.

"For the record, I do want to have your pups one day."

Katsuki gave Izuku a wolfish grin.

…..

They didn’t leave their nest for three full days save for absolute necessities. Food, water, bathroom, and shower. Other than that, they fucked and when they weren’t fucking, they were catching up on TV shows or figure skating news or binging the rest of Izuku’s podcast that Katsuki hadn’t already listened to or continuing to spill their guts for each other.

When their respective heat and rut finally petered to a close with one final, slow, generous orgasm, Katsuki left Izuku in the nest to cook an actual meal. One that was hot and nutritious and didn’t taste like a protein bar. Eventually, Izuku hoisted himself from the completely destroyed mass of fabric to sit on the floor of the kitchen.

Izuku watched Katsuki idly, eyes trailing over his strong shoulders and corded thighs and tight calves, appreciating every aspect of his body. A body he now had pure carnal knowledge of, and would be happy to gain more knowledge of eventually. A body that was marked up with thin angry scratches and deep purple hickeys and rings of teeth marks and bruises that were in the shape of fingers.

His heat had only just ended, but Izuku already couldn’t wait to spend his next in a nest of Katsuki’s design.

“Oh,” he whispered.

Katsuki glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

Izuku opened his mouth to reply, but closed it after another moment. He made his mind slow down, to stop rushing forward, and actually consider the implication of his thought. After a long moment of silence where Katsuki didn’t press and simply allowed him to think, he said, “This is the only heat that I’ve ever had that didn’t hurt.”

Katsuki’s eyes glanced towards him. “Isn’t that because you haven’t had one in years?”

Izuku lifted his eyes again, blinking up at his alpha. He shook his head. “No, that’s not it. At first, it was hurting so badly that I couldn’t even see straight, just like it used to. I’m certain it would have stayed like that too, but…”

Again, Katsuki’s eyes found him. “But?”

“But you stayed with me. That’s the difference, Kacchan. You.” He was grinning, stupidly taken with the idea that Katsuki had so much sway over him. He always had, but the physical proof made his heart pound in his chest. “Say, Kacchan?”

Katsuki hummed in reply, eyes focussed back on the pan in front of him.

“Do you ever think that we claimed each other a long time ago? Before we knew what our secondary genders were going to be? Before we knew if we’d even be able to be together? Do you think that could be why my heats were always so painful?”

Katsuki scoffed, but not meanly. When he spoke, Izuku’s heart swelled. “Nothing but ourselves were going to keep us apart, dumbass. Even if we’d both been alphas or omegas or betas. We just happened to be compatible on more than one level.” Izuku noticed how he didn’t answer his last question, but after a moment he continued. “This was the first rut that wasn’t unbearable. They never hurt or anything, mostly they were just a chore, but it always got to the point where taking care of myself left me feeling empty instead of sated. But this one wasn’t like that. So, maybe your theory has some merit.”

Izuku scooted along the floor, wrapping an arm around Katsuki’s calf and leaning into his leg. He began to purr.

Katsuki’s hand dropped, threading into the curls on the top of Izuku’s head. He allowed the intimacy for several long moments before shoving Izuku with his leg. “Go sit. I’m fucking starving.”

#mha #my hero academia #bakudeku #dekubaku #decchan #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #omega!izuku #alpha!katsuki #figure skater au #no quirks au #there's sex in this chapter if you couldn't tell #my writing #sharpen your blades

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