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zanarkandskylines · 3 months

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Sticky Heat

『♡』 fem!reader x bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ Senior year of UA | Aged-Up to 18 ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡

summary: on a hot summer day, fem!reader is frustrated while studying for the written portion of finals during their senior year of UA High. bakugo has a simple solution to help her relax - just a quick trip to the vending machines outside for a "drink." tags & warnings: 18+ MDNI | CW; Smut - oral (give/receive), semi-voyeurism, dirty talk, cumplay (kind of), praise, minor dom/brat dynamic, lots of teasing | fluff, lovers (bf/gf), somewhat porn-with-plot, threat of getting caught, midoriya and todoroki are goofballs a/n: katsuki is the world’s biggest tease in my mind until you challenge him on it, then he melts over the competitiveness of who can unravel who first! ** this is also my first attempt at smut lmao so !! ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 3,111 ꒱

“Goddammit!” you curse abruptly, startling Bakugo out of his study trance.

“Th’ fucks your issue?” he asks, irritated.

You huff, slamming the textbook in front of you shut. “I’m never gonna remember any of this shit. I can’t even get my flash cards right.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh, obviously annoyed that you’re being disruptive to his own study session. He couldn’t hold it against you, though, this shit was difficult to memorize.

He stands, the chair beneath him scraping against the floor.

“C’mon, break time.”

You look at him quizzically. “I’m not -“

“Don’t care. Get up.” He’s ordering you and no longer asking.

Fine.

Bakugo grabs your hand, tugging you out of the classroom and downstairs to the vending machine area - a small alcove under the stairs that sits just outside the first floor. He rounds back to the machines and stands there with you for a second. He seems to be…looking around?

“Kat, I’m said not thirst-“

He interrupts you with a devilish, toothy grin - pushing you through the narrow space between the vending machines, following close behind you. Both of you pop into the crawl space under the stairs. It’s large enough to allow you both to stand, but small enough that the machines block the view under the stairway.

With no hesitation, he’s boxing you into the concrete wall, slipping a knee in between your legs to keep them separated.

Oh. Oh. You understand now.

Bakugo’s closing the gap between the two of you, bending down to your ear as his hands greedily roam around atop your uniform. “Now, are you gonna be a good girl and shut the fuck up for 10 minutes, or do I have to shut you up?”

The moan that escapes you is visceral, starving for his touch just at the sound of his husky voice. Fuck, you curse internally - he had you melting in the palm of his hands and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

He dives into your neck, nipping playfully at your skin as his left hand trails up your bare thigh, playing with the hemline of your skirt. He licks a stripe from your collarbone back up to your earlobe, a chill - and heat - traveling through you concurrently. His breath his hot against your ear.

“Mmm, there she is.” He growls as his hand leaves your thigh and slips underneath your skirt, teasing your clothed clit. “My good girl.”

You swear you could unravel right then and there, no physical touch needed. Bakugo’s praise is addicting - a high you know you’ll never be able to chase anywhere else. You quiver beneath his touch, sucking the air through your teeth to subdue another moan.

”Hah, Kat…,” you whimper breathlessly, face reddening with embarrassment.

“Yes, baby?” He’s purrs, drinking up every sound spilling from your pretty lips. You can practically feel outline of the shit-eating sneer creeping over his lips as he traces your jawline with his tongue. Hastily, his fingers leave your panties as he’s kneeling down, kissing the plush of your thighs and settling on his knees.

“F-fuck,” you squeak, daring to glance down over your skirt. Bakugo locks his gaze with yours, half-lidded eyes full of hunger - starved, even. Biting your lip, you nod, and that’s all the permission he needs to proceed to devour you like a predator eating his prey.

Before you can even blink, his fingers are tugging your panties down your thighs, practically ripping them from your legs as you hurriedly step out of them. He chuckles to himself as he shoves them in to the pocket of his slacks.

”Maybe you'll get these back later,” he teases.

You make a mental note in your heat-riddled stupor to grab them from him afterward.

Bakugo forcefully lifts your leg over his shoulder to access your already glistening sex, halting for a second before his mouth becomes flush with your skin. The gasp that escapes you as he gives sensually teasing licks to your sticky center fuels his own feral desire, enraptured with how your body reacts to his touch. You’ve been together long enough to know each other’s bodies by heart, but he’ll never grew tired of hearing how easily undone you become when you’re turned on - especially just for him.

His tongue runs over your clit daintily, goading a sensual moan out of you. He continues with lazy strokes, lavishly enjoying all of your mewling and squirming. The thick air of the hot day only added to the pleasure, a glimmer of sweat on your exposed thighs.

God, she tastes fucking heavenly, he heatedly thinks to himself. If allowed, he’d eat you out every fucking day of the week. Who gives a shit about sparring matches when he could be making a mess of you instead?

Lost in the moment, you can't help but roll your hips against his mouth, desperate for him to pick up the pace as your hand tangles in his spiky blonde locks. He groans at your demand, the vibrations edging you closer to your white-hot release. God, you loved when he moaned. It was so fucking hot and sent you catapulting toward your own orgasm on the regular.

"Someone's impatient today," he growls before diving back in-between your thighs.

He slides a finger into your aching heat, curling it inside of you as he continues to suck and lap at your clit at a tantalizing pace. Just as you feel your release approaching, you hear footsteps nearby.

You freeze, your grip in Bakugo’s hair tightening, motioning him to stay completely still. He pauses, leaning back on his knees to look up at you, panting silently. A breath hitches in your throat as you see your juices dripping down his jaw. It catches you so off guard that you only a few seconds to slap your free hand over your mouth - quieting the whore-ish moan that threatens to escape your lips.

He licks his own lips with a satisfactory grin, knowing full well he’s got you right where he wants you.

”Todoroki, what do you want to drink?” you hear Midoriya call out, presumably skimming the drink options in the machine on the other side.

The realization dawns on you that one wrong move - one noise - could draw his attention and catch you in the act. All Midoriya would need to do is peak in-between the machines at the right angle to see your silhouettes.

The thought of getting caught with Bakugo's face covered in your spend is thrilling. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly at the thought, willing it away before your lust-fueled mind can convince you otherwise.

Bakugo sees your reaction, grimacing as he shoots you a salacious glare. It sends another rush of heat to your throbbing center as you pleadingly shake your head ‘no.'

Of course, he doesn’t listen.

Katsuki Bakugo is not patient and always finishes what he starts.

Don’t you fucking dare, Katsuki, I swear to g-

Your thought is cut short as he wiggles the lone finger inside of you, dipping it in and out of your folds. His movements are slow, inaudibly coaxing you along - daring you not to make a sound. You bite your hand, throwing your head back against the wall with a soft thump.

You hear a second set of footsteps, assuming it's Todoroki joining Midoriya to browse through the selection of drinks. How long does it take to pick a damn drink?!

"Green tea sounds nice," Todoroki says, depositing coins into the machine while Midoriya ponders between four options. You pray that he'll become less indecisive in the next few seconds before you unceremoniously crumble where you stand.

Fucking hell, Izuku, just pick something! you scream in your head, cursing his inability to make a simple choice. Granted, he has no idea you are desperately wiling him to leave so you can...finish.

"I'll go with milk tea, then!" Midoriya beams, the machine whirring as the drink is dispensed into the pick up slot.

Please, for fucks sake, leave!

You're too focused on listening to boys that you almost let a whimper slip out when Bakugo stuffs a second finger inside you, greedily recollecting your attention. His fingers curl at your g-spot, reigniting that searing pleasure from earlier within your abdomen.

This is torture.

"Alright, let's head back to the library. Uraraka and Yaoyorozu are waiting for us!"

Fucking finally!

You're almost in the clear, just a little longer...

He slips in a third goddamn finger, your chest heaving at the sudden intensity, eyes rolling in your head with silent ecstasy. You can feel the humidity radiating from his hands as he's knuckle deep, your trembling thighs threatening to give away at any moment. On instinct, you smack your free hand against the back of the vending machine to catch yourself from falling, a loud thud echoing around you two.

Your eyes shoot open in horror as you hear Midoriya from down the hall. “Hey, did you hear that?”

Bakugo ceases his movements, listening for any additional footsteps returning their way.

“It was probably from upstairs, Class B was moving desks around earlier.”

Holy shit - you could kiss Todoroki right now. You’ll have to thank the bastard later…without telling him about what you’re thankful for. They proceed down the hall until you think they’re no longer in earshot.

Not skipping a beat, Bakugo ferociously dives back into your mess of a cunt, removing his fingers with an audible squelch and tongue-fucking you with vigor. The stimulation draws you right back to your tipping point, just about to cross the threshold into orgasm as he bluntly withdraws his tongue. He rocks back on his knees again, shoving two digits back into your sweltering sex as he glares up at you.

“Go on baby - beg.” His words drip with carnality, a sinful gleam reflecting in his ruby irises as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you, your slick walls madly pulsing around them.

You have no will left in you to protest, not even playfully. You could faint with the way he’s staring at you, proudly displaying his achievement thus far all over his face.

”Oh my fuck-god dammit, Kat, please,” you plead, as hushed as possible. “I’m so fucking close.”

“Please what?” He leans forward, swiping a flick of his tongue across your clit.

God, you could punch him right now if you weren’t so fucking horny.

“Please make me come already, Katsuki - fuck!”

“Your wish is my command, princess.”

Bakugo replaces his fingers with his tongue for a final time, rotating from your clit to your entrance in fluid motions. His actions are getting sloppier as his own desire takes over, another moan pouring out of him as you clench your fingers in his hair. Your skin begins to prickle, a heat rash (in two senses) spreading flush all over your body. The noises spilling out of you are incoherent, no longer in control of your own volume. You smack a hand over your mouth a second time to muffle yourself when you feel Bakugo’s hand blindly smack at your arm.

“I wanna hear your pretty ass moans,” he demands as he bites at your thigh. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare shut up now.”

That’s more than enough to thrust you over the edge.

The thread tugging in your core snaps with one final roll of your hips against him, a wave of euphoria washing over you - leaving you feverish against the summer heat. He can feel your walls clench around his tongue as your body convulses. His fingers dig into your thighs, supporting your weight on his one shoulder as your body becomes boneless, legs shaking as he drinks in your arousal. You brace yourself against the wall with your free hand, the other still blissfully entwined in his hair.

The fireworks in your stomach begin to die down as your orgasm wains, trying to catch your breath as a bead of sweat runs from your forehead and over your temple. Bakugo laps at your slit unhurriedly before sitting back with your leg still whisked over his shoulder. He’s panting, and fuck, that will never not be hot, with a few drops of sweat emerging from his hairline and settling at his jaw.

You swing your leg off his shoulder with the shred of energy left in your body and stumble to a somewhat upright position.

“Christ, Kats-,” you begin to whisper as Bakugo stands to his feet, yanking you off the wall and flush against his own body. He cups your chin in his hands, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

"You're fucking gorgeous."

You don’t even have a moment to process his words as he’s aggressively colliding his lips with yours, hands knotted in your hair to pull you further into him.

The kiss is electrifying, dripping with desire as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip to persuade you to invite him in. The taste of your own release on his lips and tongue is intoxicating, the tangy and salty essence driving you to wildly moan into the kiss. He pulls on your hair a second time, drunk on the lustful emotions swirling between the two of you.

That’s when you decide to surprise him.

He’d never ask for anything in return when pleasuring you, adamant on the fact that it never needed to be reciprocated. So whenever you did, it fueled a fire that only you knew how to ignite in him.

You break the kiss fleetingly, taking the second to catch your breath as you spin Bakugo around to the wall, his back slamming up against it with a heavy thud.

Shit. You may or may not have just knocked the wind out of him and ruined the moment.

Or so you thought.

Much to your surprise, his chest is heaving, cheeks ruddy - crimson stare fixated on you, anxiously anticipating your next move. Having him at your mercy never ceases to leave you mesmerized. His hands are on the wall behind him, bracing himself as if he'll fall through it at any moment.

Bakugo's about to say something until you leisurely lick from the bottom of his chin up to his lips, lapping up the leftover dribbles of your own climax off his face, biting at his bottom lip before moving to his collarbone. Lucky for you, he always keeps the top buttons undone on his uniform in the summer, leaving his collar loose enough to pull aside. You sink your teeth into the crook of his neck, eliciting a deliciously sinful moan from him.

You can't help but wonder if anyone heard, considering his natural volume is 110%. But at this point? You don't fucking care.

"Mmm, seems like I'm not the only one with pretty moans."

A slur of colorful curses are leaving his swollen lips as you trail your hands over his chest, and when he feels your fingers delicately trace the outlines of his clothed nipples, he jolts. He'd never admit how fucking hard he gets when you play with them, the stimulation shooting directly into his groin.

Before Bakugo can vocalizes the pleasure, you capture his lips again, suppressing the loud groan erupting from his throat. When you part, all he can mutter are hot pants of your name and a few mumbled 'fuck's between baited breath.

"God, Katsuki, you're so fucking hot when you're coming undone," you hum, fumbling with the belt of his slacks. He's speechless, his hands furiously pawing at his belt as he slides his pants and boxers down in one fell swoop. When you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, his entire body jerks forward. Not even a second passes before he's jutting his hips against your palm, desperate for friction.

"Now look who's begging?" Your sultry words have him biting his lower lip, eyes screwed tight as his cheeks now glow scarlet.

"I-in...yo-ah...fu-fuckin' drea-ah-ms," Bakugo stutters, making an attempt to regain his composure. It swiftly disintegrates when he notices you taking a knee to the ground. His jaw is clenched as you press your tongue to the underside of his cock, hazily looking up at him before taking him into your mouth.

Oh god, oh my fuck-

Overstimulation overriding his senses, he begins to thrust into your mouth at a stuttering tempo, eagerly chasing his own release and unable to control himself. He's gasping, grunting, moaning above you, and it almost gets you off a second time from hearing his pleasure.

You put your hands to his hips, stilling him as you slowly edge his entire length into your mouth, tongue sliding lazily along the underside of his shaft. You'll never get over how hot and heavy he feels in your mouth, each time better than the last. You flutter your eyes upward as you hum softly, completely stuffed full of him.

God. Bakugo was seeing stars and he hadn't even released yet.

Hollowing your cheeks, you suck - hard - and move in a fluid motion, mouth flooding with saliva as you continue taking him as deep as you can manage. His thread was ready to snap.

"F-fuh-fuck!" he stutters harshly, shouting a little too loud - but honestly, from far away, someone could mistake it for him being his normally bombastic self.

Bakugo snatches a handful of your hair with a trembling hand, shoving himself all the way into your mouth, down to the base, as you feel his explosive release coat the back of your throat. He smacks his hand over his mouth as he shudders, his grunts muffled in his palm.

You release him, brushing off your knees as you're getting up from the concrete. It might be a little hard to hide how red they are under your short-ass uniform skirt, but who's looking at your knees anyways? You patiently wait for him to readjust into his slacks.

Somewhat mimicking his earlier actions, you place a hand delicately on his cheek, thumbing away a drop of sweat.

"I love you, Katsuki." The words fall from your puffy lips effortlessly, giving him a tender smile before placing a soft kiss on the opposite cheek.

"Love you too, Y/N." Bakugo snaps you into a hug, cradling his arms around you as he kisses your forehead. "My favorite girl."

You gleam, radiating from his flattery. Stretching back in his arms, you run your hand through his bangs, un-sticking them from the sweat on his forehead. He snickers as you ruffle the small hairs into the rest of his spiky hair.

"Guess it's back to studying," you whine sarcastically.

He laughs. "There's always more study breaks, too."

no, you didn't get your panties back. ;) hope you enjoyed!! <3

Divider by : @/saradika

#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugo smut #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugou #bakugo fluff #bnha smut #mha smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #☆.rei writes

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astroboots · 10 months

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EVERY YOU EVERY ME #9

COLLABORATED WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You get a new mysterious co-worker.

Word count: 8,100

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

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August 1st

Nearly pancaked by grand piano falling from the 8th floor outside of favorite cafe. No casualties (except the piano).

August 5th

Freak blizzard out of nowhere during lunch. Nearly crushed by large icicle dropping directly outside the exit of the Chrysler building. No other known casualty.

August 6th

An escaped hippopotamus from the Bronx zoo ran 11.3 miles, nearly got stampeded when exiting hotel for work. No casualties.

August 12th

Tornado appeared inside the Guggenheim museum, nearly squashed by large falling statue. Nobody nearby was seriously injured.

It's already mid-August now. You've used up more than a month of your allotted three. It means you don't have much more time to waste, but that knowledge does nothing to help you in figuring things out.

You’ve compiled a comprehensive list of the Universe's ongoing murder attempts, determined to keep track of them all. All in all, there are 37 incidents and counting that you’re aware of… and they’re all different.

They differ in severity. They differ in scale and they differ in frequency. Sometimes it can take weeks, sometimes days, sometimes within hours of each other. If there’s any sort of pattern to them—anything that might help you predict what will happen next or how to stop it—you can’t see it. There’s nothing that gives you any hint or clue as to where you can start to make progress with solving this mystery.

The one thing you have been able to observe from cataloging these incidents is that Miguel was right about what he told you that day at Starbucks: the universe is ramping up. Each attempt is becoming more and more bizarre, defying the very laws of physics and nature in its attempts to snuff you out. Before this, in all of your years in New York, you’ve never heard of a blizzard in July or a tornado indoors.

With the escalating dangers, Miguel is more on guard than ever. Sticking close to you at all times like a particularly insistent herding dog that’s always a few inches from nipping at your heels. Even when he’s seemingly preoccupied by something else—reading a book, folding clothes, eating a crate of kit kats in one sitting—you can always tell that he’s keenly aware of and attuned to your every minute move.

Practically, the only time he lets you out of his sight is for bathroom visits.

Work is still a point of contention between you two. He hates that he can't enter the building to monitor you at work and make sure you're safe, and after that incident when you caught a co-worker trying to take a surreptitious selfie with Spiderman while Miguel was loitering around in the windows, you’d banned him from climbing and scuttering around the exterior of the building like some deranged squirrel.

It’s made him even less pleased about your whole work situation, something he’s not shy about sharing with you. Every morning when you are about to leave for work, Miguel will stand by the door with that ever present frown and ask you:

“Why are you still going into a job you hate when there’s only two months left?”

This morning, you sigh as you reach for your jacket and messenger bag.

Part of you completely understands and even agrees with his logic. If the end of the world is only two months away, why go back to that shithole everyday? You could go to Disneyland. Eat fancy croissants in Paris for breakfast. Have Lyla fake a reservation at an all-inclusive yoga retreat in Bali. You could be living your life like every moment is your last.

The thing is though, as delusional as it may be, you’re not ready to bet on the world ending just yet.

“Miguel, I fully intend for the universe to still be around in two months. And I don’t want to be unemployed when that day comes. I’m not some trust fund baby. Once we figure this thing out, you’re gonna be free to go, and if you take Lyla with you, then what am I supposed to do? Live on the streets? Rent in the city is ridiculous, and my rent-controlled apartment got blown into a million pieces.”

For once Miguel doesn’t seem to have anything smart to say back. He tilts his head, quietly studying your face. Then after a long pause, he gives you a curt nod, as if something clicked into place.

"Fine."

You stop mid-way through zipping up one of your boots to eye him suspiciously.

Okay, that’s… different.

In all the mornings you’ve repeated this argument, this is the first time he’s simply accepted your explanation without sassing you back. He just gazes right back, apparently unperturbed, and holds the door of your hotel room open for you, ready to walk you to work.

There is definitely something going on inside his head, because this stubborn dummy never lets anything go without a fight. You just don’t know what it is yet.

By mid-morning, you've forgotten all about your suspicions, too busy dealing with the aftermath of your coworker's incompetence. You're not entirely sure how they managed to corrupt the Excel formula you’d painstakingly inserted to make sure all the numbers add up correctly, but two hours later, you're still trying to get the data to compute properly.

It’s the kind of mind numbing task that lets your mind wander, and you spend most of that morning wondering what Miguel is up to. He’s probably lingering near the building, eating mini donuts by the dozens from that food truck that is always parked around the corner.

There’s a pointed series of knocks on your cubicle wall. The noise is grating, and it makes the whole of your back seize up because you recognize that signature knock from sound alone. It’s your boss, probably here to ask if you have capacity to take on more case evaluations.

And sure enough, as you reluctantly turn to look, you see her, toothy smile and all, looking down at you in that hammy and strained way of hers.

“Are you busy?” she asks. “I just wanted to introduce you to the newest member of the team.”

She gestures to the person standing beside her. Your gaze goes up over their insanely long legs, up and over the narrow and tapered waist and torso, up over the wide chest and broad, broad shoulders, and even before you get to the familiar face, you already know who you are looking at, because no one else is that tall.

Your mouth gapes open wide in shock.

This stupid motherf-

“This is Mickey O’Hara,” your boss introduces, simpering up at him. (You didn’t even know she knew how to simper.)

Has Miguel gone insane?

What is he playing at?!

He didn’t even bother to change his name properly!

And the man looks unfairly good in office casual! He’s dressed in a white, well-fitted button down shirt and dress pants. Wearing ridiculous thick-rimmed glasses that would belong on Gregory Peck. Riotous curls are as messy and wild as ever, not having even bothered to comb it back. You don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling, the subdued get-up only makes him stick out like a sore thumb.

“Mickey is our newest hire,” your boss continues, batting her eyes at him. “He's interning with our team as a junior insurance claims adjuster and will be shadowing you for the next two months.”

After that, Miguel truly is with you everywhere you go.

He spends most of each workday sitting on a spare chair in your small cubicle, the two of you squeezed into 6'x6', shoulder touching shoulder in that tiny, cramped space.

A superhero he may be, but Miguel is a terrible office worker. He seems completely bamboozled by the copier, and you quickly learn not to ask him to do any copying or scanning or even pick your printouts from the printer, because he always manages to mangle the process, coming back with crumpled up prints or half-shredded paper that looks like budget confetti.

Before the week is over, he’s gained a reputation with the rest of the team as the handsome-but-useless junior that can’t even make coffee for shit.

Most of the time, he doesn't even make an effort to look like he’s doing any actual work, just sits right next to you, and reads books all day long. When you scold him and ask him to at least pretend like he's doing busy work, or he'll get fired, Miguel will just shrug and quietly hum back at you, engrossed in whatever latest sci-fi book his nose is buried in.

"If they fire me, I'll just have Lyla hack into their HR system and rehire me."

Then there’s the way his sleeves are always rolled up halfway up his arm, hugging tight around the firm muscles of his forearm. The peep show of gorgeously tanned skin that is always on display for all to see. It's obscene.

He’s maddening and distracting.

Still, you can’t be too mad about his presence. The office is a much more treacherous place than you’d initially thought. It’s a danger zone of death traps.

One morning when you’re in the supply room, getting a new pad of post-its from one of the massive industrial shelves—the ones that are supposed to be bolted to the wall for safety—suddenly crumpled, taking half the wall with it and nearly flattening you. That was almost game over for you. Squashed like a bug and entombed under a pile of archived TPS reports.

Then there’s that time with the runaway elevator when the supposedly secure and unbreakable industrial cables snaps, with you in it, falling through 40 floors. And you still shudder everytime you walk past the copy machine because of that time it tried to electrocute you. If Miguel hadn’t been there for all of these incidents, you’d be a goner.

Another upside is that it’s also nice to have a cubicle buddy. On slow days, the two of you kill time watching YouTube origami tutorials and practicing with post-its stolen from the temporarily-relocated office supplies.

Despite having hands the size of a giant, Miguel is surprisingly good at it. Delicately folding paper cranes, butterflies and flowers that sit in the place of pride atop of your computer screen, compared to your questionable attempts that usually wind up in a crumpled ball in the trash.

With Miguel there, your days at the office are never boring or predictable in the way they used to be. It no longer feels like you are just going through motions. It's almost… fun.

If there wasn’t a cosmic executioner’s ax looming over your neck, you don’t think you would mind spending every day with him like this.

You take it back. You do mind spending days with him like this. Miguel is the worst.

You've been doing data entry all morning, and the man will not shut up about how primitive Excel is.

“Malo! I don’t understand how your company relies on this software. There are so many data consistency issues! It completely lacks data validation and integrity checks, and it’s too prone to human error when entering crucial data, which results in–”

You take deep calming breaths as you continue to type, trying to pretend his rant is white noise.

The previous day's near death experience—an electrical surge from the printer, trying to finish what the copy machine started—also wiped out one of the file servers, and now you and half your department are stuck manually re-entering three years worth of data.

Two hours in, your fingers are aching, and you're about ready to start banging your head on the keyboard out of frustration. (Or banging the keyboard on Miguel’s head if he doesn’t shut up.)

Like he can hear your thoughts, the man in question obligingly stops talking, and there’s a moment of blessed silence before your chair glides smoothly and suddenly to the left as Miguel rolls you out from in front of your computer. Your first instinct is to wonder what new danger he’s saving you from, but no… He’s just moving you out of the way to make space for him to drag his own chair in front of the screen. “Enough,” he says firmly, already typing out some unintelligibly complex code at a speed that far outstrips your own personal best of 67 words per minute, “I can’t watch you keep doing this when it’s so simple to automate.”

You sometimes forget just how smart Miguel is.

True, he can’t seem to work the office printer, but he’s a genius scientist who single-handedly built an A.I. sophisticated enough to hack into financial institutions and topple governments. He successfully invented a machine that travels between dimensions. Every other sentence coming out of his mouth sounds like something that would confound Stephen Hawking. You don’t know why you’re surprised he’s able to automate Excel spreadsheets.

It doesn’t take him very long at all.

Within minutes, he’s finished, hitting enter one final time, and then you can see all of the cells rectify themselves one by one. Errors disappear and new corrected information appears, data populating blank cells and aligning itself in tidy rows.

You lean in closer to get a better look. Your elbow snags the edge of your coffee cup and the cup topples over, splashing runaway hot coffee across your hand.

Before you have a chance to react, there’s a strong pull backwards. Miguel is already grabbing you and pulling you sideways into his lap and out of the firing range.

The cup clatters off the edge of the desk and onto the floor. The rest of the burning liquid never had the time to land on you.

Then you’re sitting on top of him, confined in the much too small seat of the office chair that can barely fit him and his broad backside, and much less the both of you. But if it’s uncomfortable, Miguel doesn’t show it. He takes your hand in his to inspect it carefully.

The patch of skin burns and stings, but you can’t tell if it’s from the coffee or his burning touch that makes you feel like there’s liquid fire simmering in your veins.

“You okay?” he says, his voice right in your ear.

He is so close. Surrounding you. Broad arms locked around your waist and the firm muscles of his thick thighs under yours.

“Yeah,” you manage, nodding slowly. Your tongue feels heavy and dry in your mouth.

He quietly drags your hand closer to his face, then blows on the back of your burnt knuckles to soothe the sting.

“Better?”

Those stunning eyes are staring into yours from inches away, cut cheeks right there, nose barely brushing against yours, and – god, is he close. Too close.

Miguel is always in close proximity to you these days. Never more than a couple yards away, but save for life or death situations, the two of you do not find yourself like this. He only ever holds you when you’re crashing through the skies or about to collide with a runaway vehicle. This is different somehow.

Your heart feels like a trapped bird in your chest, fluttering so fast and panicky it might burst from inside out at the proximity.

“I– um– ah…” You’re not saying any words, just making strange noises in your throat like a squawking bird.

Your eyes flicker away from his face avoidantly and from the corner of your eye, you spot Matt from accounting spying on you from the cubicle across.

Oh god. This probably doesn’t look great, does it?

You’re sitting on a co-worker’s lap in the middle of an open plan office. Compromising does not even begin to describe the position you two are in.

Jumping off his lap, you quickly stand up and turn away, trying to ignore the flustered heat in your cheeks.

You walk back over to your chair, about to sit yourself back down, but there’s spilled coffee everywhere. The dark brown liquid quickly sinking into the already stained fabric of the seat. You need to clean this up or else your chair is going to smell like expired coffee for the rest of time. Grabbing for your bag, you start digging for some tissues so you don't have to walk up to the supply closet.

You pull out item after item. Tampons. Sunglasses. A half-eaten chocolate bar. More tampons. New wallet with new ID, (expedited, all courtesy of Lyla). A handful of pennies. A random pamphlet. Still no tissues though, so you upend your bag onto your desk, wincing at the clatter.

How on Earth have you accumulated this much stuff in the few short weeks since your apartment was destroyed? And how on Earth do you not have any kleenex or napkins or anything in your handbag??

You paw through the mess, hoping for something useful, then swear as some of it spills over onto the floor. Ducking down, you crawl half under your desk, collecting wayward tampons and receipts, until your eyes pause on the pamphlet.

Not just any pamphlet. It’s yellow and bright with Whoopie Goldberg's face in the corner. It's the map you received from the fortune teller lady. One of your many misfires.

Now that you look closely at it, there are faint lines that seem to glow faintly in the dimness under your desk that weren't there when you were looking at it in plain daylight.

You pick it up and unfold it, laying it out on the floor. It looks like it’s been written on with some kind of a glow-in-the-dark marker, but it’s not dark enough for you to see clearly. You need to get somewhere darker to test your theory.

Backing out from under your desk, you get to your feet and head briskly off down the hall. You barely make it three steps before Miguel’s on your tail, his towering height blocking out the bright LED lamps above as he follows after you like the world’s biggest duckling.

“Cielo, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you murmur curtly under your breath. The heat from before is still riding persistently on your face, and you quicken your steps, hoping it doesn’t show.

You half run to the end of the hall until you reach the small supply closet. When you open the door to step inside, Miguel is right behind you, apparently trying to squeeze himself in after you.

"We won't both fit in here!" you scold as you close the door after you. His unhappy expression is the last thing you see as darkness envelops you in the pitch black.

There’s a niggling feeling of guilt that wiggles down into your skin. But you remind yourself that you can always steal cupcakes meant for clients from the conference room to make it up to him. All will be forgiven if you appease his sweet tooth.

Ducking your head to stare down at the map clutched in your hands, you squint your eyes in the dark to study it closely. There's a small star glowing bright in the middle of the map.

It's a literal star map.

She gave you a location.

You're standing in front of an old stone building at 177A Bleecker Street, smack in the middle of Greenwich village with its picturesque ivy covered old brownstone houses.

Then there's this monstrosity: Sanctum Sanctorum. The infamous residence of Dr. Strange.

The mansion is built in a mix of a Victorian and Gothic style as if the architect couldn't make up their mind and just decided 'why not both?' Throughout the rooftop, there are ornate carvings and intricate stonework that you suspect was meant to lend it a mysterious air, but instead the place reminds you of Disney’s Haunted Mansion ride attraction.

You bring up your hand to the old knocker, gripping it firmly. Your lungs tighten, breath constricting in your chest as you hesitate, unable to bring yourself to pull the brass down to make contact with the wooden front door. Instead you’re holding it still in the air.

Maybe this isn’t a good idea after all. How are you going to explain this?

‘The universe is out to get me, please send Avengers to help.’

Isn’t he just going to think you’re nuts? One of those delusional Supes-fan with munchausen syndrome?

"We can still leave," Miguel says.

The man's been protesting every step of the way here, buzzing in your head about how much of a bad idea this is.

You frown, turning around to him. "I want to do this,” you answer.

His continued opposition is the final push you need. You bring down the knocker against the front door and tap it repeatedly.

There's no answer.

Part of you has to fight the urge to turn your feet and flee, saving yourself the embarrassment. But before you do, there’s a loud creak and a heavy scraping noise against the entrance as the double door swings inwards and slowly opens.

No one greets you by the door. The entryway before you is empty, revealing a grand imperial staircase leading to the second floor, curving upward into a majestic spiral on each side of the room.

It looks deserted. It’d be impolite to just step inside without someone to greet you and explicitly invite you in. But the doors did open to let you in.

You look at Miguel, unsure of what to do, but the man does not have the same compunction for politeness that you do, he’s already walked in, shoes and all, straight into the main hall.

“Can we just get this over with without you making your usual stupid grand dramatic entrance?” Miguel says into the empty room seemingly to no one in particular and you don’t know who he thinks he’s talking to.

A ring of ember and fire sparks into existence out of nothingness in the center of the room. The ring grows wider, and you can see hints of another room inside of the circle: one decorated in a different decoration style than the current room you’re in: moroccan seats and plush cushions with oriental wooden carved furniture.

A man steps out from within that room to stand in front of you both. The ring of light closes behind him once he’s made it through. Clad in a rich purple tunic and dark robes that is monk-like in appearance. Miguel steps in front of you, tucking you safely behind him.

"You're not Strange," Miguel sneers, and you want to smack him. Why does he always have to be this rude?

"Oh, I'm quite strange. But I am not the Doctor. I am Wong. I’m the Sorcerer Supreme and guardian of this place." The man’s voice is calm and formal, and he holds himself with a stately manner as he speaks.

You pop out your head from behind Miguel’s side. "We’re here to see Doctor Strange."

At the repeated mention of Strange, the man’s formality seems to fall away, an expression of irritation bleeding into his features.

"Let me know when you find him. Because he is not here."

"Where is he?" Miguel asks, and there’s that contempt rumbling in his voice again.

"I do not know. Probably playing hooky again. The man comes and goes as he likes." Wong makes a muttering noise under his breath as he continues. "Treats this sacred place like a summer gig at McDonalds."

Your chest deflates. How are you supposed to get Dr. Strange to help you if he’s not even here?

"I need help,” you plead with Mr. Wong. Maybe he can help you if Dr Strange can’t, he is the Sorcerer Supreme after all, supreme is the highest level, right? This might even be an upgrade from Strange. “I know this sounds crazy, but I think the universe is out to get me."

Wong just looks at you, expression unchanging, and okay, yeah, that was maybe not the best place to start. You take a deep breath, trying to figure out how to make yourself sound less paranoid.

"I've almost died 40 times since the beginning of the summer. I just want to know why this keeps happening and how to make it stop."

You dig into your bag, pulling out the folded map.

"We talked to a fortune teller in Chinatown, and she gave me this map. It led us here, and I'm really, really hoping you can help me."

Wong dips his head down to the map, "This is a celebrity home star map," he says, with a straight face and a neutral voice that only slightly betrays that he thinks you're batshit crazy.

“I know it sounds crazy, but-”

“Sanctum Sanctorum opened its doors for you, which means it wanted me to meet with you. I believe what you’re telling me.”

Oh thank god.

You tell him everything, rambling on as you try to explain what’s been happening and what little you know about it as best you can. The near death experiences, Miguel being a Spiderman from another dimension, the destruction of your apartment, the unnatural phenomena and the universe’s escalating attempts on your life.

Wong is quiet throughout, studying your face with grave concentration as you speak.

When you’re finally done, he sighs with deep weariness that emanates from the core of his soul. He looks down on his feet, tapping them in deep consideration.

"I have an idea,” Wong says cautiously, “I could perform a Multiversal Divination on you, that might give us a clearer idea of what we’re dealing with,”

“What does that mean?” Miguel asks, anger vibrating off his skin and boiling in his tone.

This man needs to calm down. You clearly need to take him to anger management, because since the moment he’s stepped into this place he’s been on the edge (even more so than usual).

“What does a ‘Multiversal Divination’ entail?” he continues, “Is that some magical mumbo jumbo that’s going to hurt her? Because if so we’re not–”

“I’ll do it,” you say, interrupting his objections, and you sidestep Miguel who is scowling, mouth already parted in yet another protest, to stand in front of Wong.

Wong looks to you and then Miguel, then back at you again, caught in the awkward stalemate, before you interrupt.

“Please, I need answers. Whatever it is, if it might help, I want to do it.”

Wong nods, stepping closer to you. "This will feel a little bit strange," he warns with the bedside manner of a patient doctor.

His hand comes to your collarbone and he places his palm there with a gentle push. There is barely any effort put into it, but you feel the force of it as if you had been slammed with the full force of a six ton truck. Your body wants to leap out of its skin. It is the sensation of being dumped in cold water from head to toe. A shock runs through your entire nervous system.

Images flash before your eyes, flickering by too fast for you to process. They’re vivid and bright. Glimpses of a scene: your apartment, your work, your commute home. Each of them expiring in a fraction of a moment before you have a chance to latch on and make sense of any of them individually.

You see yourself in picture after picture. Except slightly different in each. Short hair. Long locks. Curly.

In some you're wearing glasses instead of the contact lenses that you usually use. In others, you’re sporting the piercing you wanted to get at 16 but never did. Sometimes you have tattoos, sometimes not; occasionally you’re covered in them. Dyed hair, in every color of the spectrum: pink, blue, purple. A myriad of versions of you, of every variation of the decisions you could have possibly taken in your life.

There are pictures of memories you have had and not had. They rush in and flee before you're able to grab hold of one.

Captured moments of lifetimes you have never lived.

It's overwhelming. You don't understand what you're seeing. There’s pandemonium inside your head.

Then everything slows to a crawl.

The scene unfolding before you is one that you immediately recognize. An image that you'll never forget.

Window after window after window flashing you by. You know this view. Have seen it twice before. The same view of the Chrysler building as you were falling. But it's different this time.

The sky isn’t blue, nor is it gray. It’s a pink and an abnormal purple, a color you’ve never seen on it before and it looks both beautiful and completely wrong. There’s an angry tear in the sky, cracking at the edges with static. The whole of the sky looks like it is going to cleave in two and bring the whole world with it. Is this the future? Is it the past?

There's no pain, but somehow tears run down your cheeks uncontrollably.

In the distance you hear Miguel's voice, muted even though you know from that tone that he's furious and must be bellowing loud enough that it echoes through the walls. It sounds like you are underwater, and you have to strain to make out what he is saying.

"Why is she crying?" He's definitely shouting, voice raw and growling. Is this part of your memory or is it happening in the now? "You're hurting her."

The ground approaches.

"Stop! Stop!" Miguel's voice is shouting, but there's no way to stop this. Everything is going too fast this time around.

Miguel is here, tearing through the sky towards you. But you know it's too late. He's too far away. He can't save you this time.

Then everything does stop.

No images in your head. No noise in your ears.

Everything goes black, like the ending of a movie.

Then you hear a thud.

It's loud and close and real.

You snap yourself out of your fugue state, to see Miguel towering over Wong's body where the Sorcerer Supreme lies, limp and lifeless on the ground.

“What did you do!? Are you out of your mind?" you shout, running up to them.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Wong isn’t moving, not even blinking!

"He was hurting you!" Miguel roars.

"He wasn't hurting me, you big doofus!" you shout back, and it’s only then that the fury in Miguel’s eyes seem to abate.

"What's wrong with him?” you ask, bending down Wong’s limp body on the ground. “Is he dead!? Did you kill him?” There's a rising panic pushing inside your throat.

"He's just paralyzed."

"He’s para– What do you mean paralyzed? What did you do to him?"

"I just... I bit him," he uses a finger to part his lips slightly, pushing the upper one up just enough to reveal the sharp edges of his fangs. "There's toxins in them that can have a paralyzing effect."

You glance back at Wong. He’s still worryingly still.

“Is there some kind of way to un-paralyze him!?"

"It was just a small bite," Miguel says, ducking his head down sheepishly to stare at the floor, like a scolded boy. "I didn’t use that much venom... It’ll wear off. He shouldn't be out long. Maybe half an hour or so."

“I’m sorry. So, so sorry,” you tell Wong fervently, hovering over him. You can see his eyes tracking yours and the rise and fall of his chest, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the proof that he’s still alive. “Do you, um… Do you want me to help you up?”

“He’s not gonna want to move for a few more minutes,” Miguel interjects from behind you. “Moving will be incredibly painful until the venom wears off the rest of the way”.

What the actual fuck!?

You throw a glare at Miguel, as you loop an arm under Wong’s waist, “Well help me move him so he can be more comfortable.”

At your command, Miguel helps you prop the man up against the wall in what is (hopefully) a more comfortable position, and then you sit next to each other and wait.

"I can't believe you bit the Sorcerer Supreme," you mutter under your breath. “Miguel, you can’t just–” you cut yourself off, too frustrated to find the proper words.

"I'm sorry,” he says, grimacing at your scolding, looking regretful for once as he ducks down his gaze. “You looked like you were in pain".

Your anger subsides, if only slightly at his repentance.

“It still doesn’t make it okay. You can’t just attack someone like that! He was trying to help us.”

He doesn’t say anything more to that, just stares down at his feet in contrition.

The two of you sit in the silence.

Your mind goes back to the surreal experience you just had. The myriad of thousands if not millions of images that were flashing through your mind at the speed of light.

The warped shape of your world, the jarring images of it distorted and wrong, as it started to collapse.

Miguel had said that didn’t he? That the universe was going to ramp up its game and if it didn’t succeed, it would eventually self-destruct in its mission to get you.

It takes 26 minutes. The first sign that the toxins are wearing off is that Wong is able to wiggle his toes. His recovery accelerates after that, he's able to move his fingers, then the muscles in his face until he's able to form a grimace. He doesn't look happy, and you don't blame him.

After another five minutes or so, he's able to speak again.

"Strange way of expressing gratitude, literally biting the hand that helps you."

You get up on your feet to help Wong, and Miguel moves next to you.

“No, you stay there! Don’t move,” you order, and even though he scowls, Miguel complies.

You hunch over next to Wong, and help him sit fully upright. He stays seated, but dusts his robe off from the caked soot and fine layers of dirt.

“This has happened in other dimensions,” Wong tells you. “And if we don’t stop it, our universe will be destroyed.”

“How do we stop it?” you ask.

“The universe wants you dead. It won’t stop until it achieves its goal.”

Your stomach drops.

“So in order for this to stop… I need to die?”

There’s a look of barely contained fury burning in Miguel’s red eyes that seems to vibrate out of his skin and pounce. But he doesn't, this time he remains in place, visibly restraining himself, still following your orders.

“There is that option, or you will need to find the reason for why it wants to kill you. And you need to find it soon, because you don’t have a lot of time left. You will have even less time once the people of this world realize the threat you present to the continued integrity of this universe.”

“Are you threatening her!?” Miguel demands, and somehow even though you didn’t hear him move, he’s right behind you, red eyes glowing, shoulders rising, looming over Wong, ready to cut him down at any further hints that the man might be a threat to your safety.

Wong doesn't seem deterred in the slightest.

You have to give it to the Sorcerer Supreme. He's a brave one. It took you weeks before you stopped being intimidated by the man, and Miguel’s never bitten you.

“I am only telling you what the universe tells me. And it tells me that you do not belong here at all. The universe thinks neither of you belong here.”

You think back on fortune teller's drawing of the poorly drawn circle and stickfigure of you that’s speared with arrows.

"What if we went… somewhere else?" Miguel asks.

For the first time since he entered this house, his tone is no longer dripping with anger. “What if we left this universe and dimension?”

The image of white blankness enters your mind at his words. You shudder at the reminder. The cold numbness of the void and the sensation of nothingness. Dread fills your veins. A cold clammy sweat flashes hot and cold against your skin at the memory.

Wong tilts his head up in deep consideration. “That might work. This universe would slowly return to equilibrium with her gone. But… This will just start again in any new Universe. Most likely she wouldn’t be able to stay. She might have to leave every dimension she's in for the rest of her natural lifespan. A life spent always on the run.”

Wong pauses as he glances over to you with sympathy and concern in his gaze. “Is that something you would want?”

What is the alternative here? To lie down and die?

“Yes.”

“One month’s time, you need to find a way to leave this dimension before then.”

Back at your hotel that evening, you wake up to the sound of distress. Muffled whimpers and quiet moans.

By habit, your eyes roam the room, seeking out Miguel in the dark. He’s lying on the sofa from across the room and even in this distance you can make out that his body is writhing beneath the covers. But you’re groggy and too sleep-drunk to make sense of what you’re hearing or seeing.

There’s murmured noises from him, and it takes you far too long to understand what’s going on.

He’s having a nightmare.

Tugging off the blanket on top of you, you get up and scoot over to the end of the bed over to him. Miguel looks like he’s in pain. There’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he tosses and turns, face pinched in pain and distress. Now that you’re closer, you can make out words in the sounds he’s making.

“Quiero quedarme contigo. No te vayas, no te vayas,” he keeps murmuring.

He looks exhausted. Which, of course he is. He's been on constant alert trying to protect you. Fighting off supernatural weather phenomena, blocking hazardous furniture and fighting off charging hippos out of nowhere. Of course he's worn out.

“Shhhh, It’s alright.” you whisper to him, reaching out to gently stroke his arm, attempting to soothe him. “It’s okay.”

He groans unhappily in his sleep, burying his head into the cushion.

“Quiero quedarme conti–”

"Hey, hey, Miguel,” you tap insistently at his shoulder now. If you can’t soothe the nightmare away, then maybe you can at least wake him up out of it, “It's okay. Wake up."

This time his eyes slam open, wide with adrenaline and shock, and he shoots upright, head whipping from side to side as he scans the room. Every inch of him prepared to leap into a fight.

“What’s wrong? What’s–”

“You were having a nightmare,” you explain to him.

He stiffens at that, dropping his eyes to stare down at his lap unhappily.

“Shit, did I wake you?” he runs a hand over his face, then lays back down, “Sorry.”

Silence blankets the two of you, and you don’t know what else to say to him. Except just that you want him to be able to rest–truly rest–after the day, week and month you’ve both had. You don’t want him to have to go back to snatching moments of troubled, uncomfortable sleep on that stupid, too-small couch.

“You could come sleep on the bed with me,” you offer, “That couch is nowhere near big enough for you.”

"It's fine," he mutters, "It's been fine the last month, and it's fine now."

"It's not though. You're clearly not sleeping well. I should have asked you before. I'm surprised your back isn't already killing you—that sleeping position looked painful."

His head darts down, eyeing his own spread legs that are sticking out into the empty air from the bottom of the couch. But he doesn't concede the point.

"Please?" you try again, "It will make me feel better."

Apparently all you needed to do was ask, because Miguel immediately complies like your request was a decree. He gets up, pulling the quilt with him, his mop of curls in adorable disarray as he drags his feet over to the other side of the bed and flops down with a loud thump that makes the whole mattress bounce underneath you.

You can feel the pull of the sheets where his legs threaten to brush up against your bent knees, and you're beginning to realize you didn't think this through. Even in the big bed, there's only so much space, and he seems to be taking up most of it.

He's close, and you can't seem to peel your eyes away from the strong line of his throat. Can't help the way your body reacts. Your pulse starts to race, heart kicking up hard and fast against your ribs.

Miguel turns around to observe you with narrowed eyes. “You okay?”

Shit! Did he hear you? That timing was too on the nose. You nod at him a little bit too frantically and you sound high-pitched and skittish even to your own ears.

“Yes of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your heart is beating really fast.”

Fuck. He could hear you. Of course he can, he has super hearing powers doesn’t he?

“I’m just tired,” you stammer out, wrapping the blanket close to your chest for layers as a shield from his super hearing.

Miguel doesn’t push it. He turns back around, letting his head drop down the pillow.

The distance between you has been growing smaller and smaller with each passing day together and you think you have been crossing an invisible line that you shouldn’t be crossing as of late.

You think of the closeness of him in the office, the weight of his arms on your waist as he held you in his lap. His eyes on you. The bare skin of his broad back casually revealed to you when he was changing. The same back that you find yourself staring up at in this moment.

“Go to sleep,” Miguel rasps from your side, and you nearly jump out of your skin in surprise.

You close your eyes, but somehow in the dark you become even more keenly aware of his presence in the bed with you. Your heart seems to skip a little bit faster as the seconds pass, each beat a little bit harder.

There's a quiet sigh, then a much louder exhale, as he turns back towards you in bed.

"What's wrong?" His voice is still gruff with sleep.

"I can’t fall asleep,” you say, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. “Can you talk? It might help me sleep."

He snorts with a laugh. The sound of it makes something pleasant skitter up the length of your spine. He's got a nice laugh. It's a shame he doesn't laugh often.

"What's so funny?"

"No, nothing. Just... some things never change." Even in the dim of the unlit room, you can see the smile on his lips.

"What do you want me to talk to you about?" he asks.

You tilt your head, considering it. Miguel rarely gives you a carte blanche to ask him for information. Logically, you should use this moment to seize a tactical advantage and ask him for all the salacious details that you know he’s been keeping from you. But as you wrack your brain for questions, the only ones that come to mind are disappointingly ordinary. You just want to know more about him. Small, silly, personal details, the way he seems to know everything about you.

"Tell me about where you're from," you request, "Your dimension. Your hometown."

He shifts on the bed, lying flat on his back until he’s staring up at the ceiling with you as he reminisces.

"It's called Nueva York. It's significantly more technologically advanced than this dimension. Definitely cleaner. People aren't as big of assholes as they are here. Public hygiene is way better, everything doesn’t reek of piss. Oh, and there’s not a rat epidemic in the public transportation system there."

His head turns to his side to look at your face, and he gives you a small mischievous grin as he continues. "Food is healthier. You don't get junk food there."

The words should be complimentary, but from his tone of voice and what you know of his eating habits, you think it’s probably a win for your dirty, rat-infested dimension.

"Lots of skyscrapers and neon-lights everywhere. It's colorful."

He pauses, as if he's struggling to find anything more to say about the place. Then his head tips to the side, meeting your eyes, and his gaze is soft.

“I'll take you there," he promises, voice quiet and warm and it makes something sweet and honeyed trickle inside your veins pleasantly.

“How?” you wonder.

His smile drops, replaced by an unhappy frown. “Not sure yet, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Can’t we just open up a portal like last time?”

He shakes his head.

"The last time I took you through the portal, it was meant to take us back to my dimension. But I built the parallel universe traversal device to transport me—and only me—through the multiverse."

He reaches out to you, fingers wrapping gently around your wrist. The contact makes your skin tingle, but you don’t pull away.

"I wasn't thinking last time. We can’t take the risk of winding up back in the void.”

He’s mumbling now, nearly asleep. His eyes half-shut as he blinks slowly, struggling to keep them open as he slowly blinks.

"Someone that disappears in the void, they'll be erased from existence and out of every timeline. No one will ever remember you or know you existed. It's as if you've never existed at all."

You eye the watch on your wrist. The slight sheen of the bed light reflecting against the shiny glass.

"Can we modify the watch?"

"Firstly, not a watch", he reminds you by rote as he fluffs up his pillow with his arm.

"And second..." he pauses, eyes drifting up to study the ceiling before he shakes his head, "I've tried. It doesn’t work. The power source isn’t powerful and your world is not technically advanced enough for me to build an upgraded self-sustaining fusion power source that would be needed. It’s how we ended up in the void.”

Worry burrows into your chest, and your gaze drops down from his face. It always feels like you’re taking one step forward and ending up two steps back. Futile and hopeless but that’s what you get for trying to fight against the will of the universe.

"Go to sleep," he says again, his hand coming to rest gently on top of your head, "I'll figure it out, don't worry.”

You smile, warmed by the comforting gesture and his reassurance.

“I won't let you get hurt this time."

…‘this time.’

The promise cuts through you like glass. Sharp and jagged and clawing its way into your chest until it hurts you to breathe.

Miguel is talking to you, but you don’t think it’s you he’s thinking of when he says the words.

He attacked Wong without a second of hesitation when he thought you were hurt. He's exhausting himself half to death to protect you. But you know that he’s not really doing any of this for you.

It’s not your comfort he was thinking of when he cradled your burnt hand and gently blew on your fingers. It’s not your love of egg tarts that makes him save the flaky pastries for you when the two of you go out for dinner. It’s not you—has never been you—that he’s seeing whenever his eyes linger on your face when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

You're riding on the emotional coattails of the other you. The unwavering loyalty that he had for her has transferred to you now that she's gone.

He must have really loved her.

There’s a sharp fissure in your chest, and you try to swallow down the thistle of needles that’s found its way into your throat, only to discover that your saliva tastes sour and bitter.

Closing your eyes, you can see an image of yourself smiling with him, laughing with him, holding his hand. Except it’s not you.

It’s her.

Other-you, with the wedding band and the happy life and– And somehow better hair too, the lucky bitch!

Except… she wasn't lucky, was she? She's dead.

She’s dead, and you still resent her for what she had with Miguel. It's such an ugly feeling.

You squeeze your eyes shut as hard as you can, but the image doesn’t go away. Nor does that acrid taste in your mouth. You can't help it. This irrational and childish madness is eating into the edges of your mind. You're envious of your other self.

God that’s fucked up.

Does someone like you even deserve to be saved at all?

~ Next Issue

Credits & Dedications: To @thirstworldproblemss for all the rubberducking we do together on this silly little story. Thank you so much for sitting with me and making this fun! I love you 234238472938492374923 x infinity and back again.

a/n: to be notified of new writing updates follow astroboots-writes and turn on notifs.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse #marvel #spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #marvel mcu

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touyasdoll · 2 years

Text

Kinktober Door #1: Body Worship

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral (f!receiving), soft/intimate sex, this got sappier than I intended

Notes: I just miss Bakugou I think lmao not a very kinky start to my kinktober, but oh well. Enjoy <3

Katsuki is sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone with the evening news droning on in the background when you plop yourself right into his lap.

You gently guide his phone away from his face and straddle him, winding your arms around his neck like you have so many times before.

“Can I help you?” He asks as his hands gravitate to your hips, his eyes drawn to the pensive expression painted on your face.

“Do you love me?”

“What?”

He’s practically insulted by the idea that you would even ask.

“The fuck d’ya mean do I love you? Course I fuckin’ do. What kinda question even is that?”

There’s a pout on his lip when he asks and you kiss it away.

“Why aren’t you payin’ attention to me then?” You muse as your hands card through his blonde locks. “I miss you.”

“I’m sittin’ right here and you’re on my lap. What makes you think I don’t love you?” His brow cocks as his large hands slide over your hips to grip your ass and his hips shift up into yours. “You want attention, huh? Baby, all you had to do was ask.”

And with that, he stands, effortlessly lifting you up onto his waist as he carries you off towards the bedroom, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“M’askin’ now.” You grin, tightening your arms around his neck while your legs lock around his waist. “I miss you, Kats.”

“I know, princess,” he says softly, stealing a chaste kiss when he stills through the door. “But we’re gonna fix that, ‘kay?”

He lays you down, wasting no time as he crawls up your body to attach his lips to your neck, kissing along your skin in all the right places.

“M’gonna show you just how much I love every fuckin’ bit of you, so you never have to ask me that stupid fuckin’ question again,” he murmurs as his lips hover over your pulse point, nipping at the thrumming beneath his lips.

“Baby,” you whine softly, hands traveling over his bare chest as you tilt your head to the side and he takes the opportunity to kiss his way towards your collarbone.

“Do I love you,” he scoffs, shaking his head as warm, calloused palms slip beneath your top, making quick work of stripping it off of you before he sits up to kneel between your legs and rake his eyes over your body. “You got no fuckin’ clue how much I love you. I don’t think you ever will.”

His mouth finds your breasts next, mawing at the soft flesh while he free them from their confines.

“Let’s start here,” he whispers, hot breath against your skin as he takes your nipple into his mouth. “You think I don’t love these? M’always fuckin’ starin’ at ‘em. Waitin’ for the next chance I get to do this.”

His teeth catch and pull gently, sending delicious shivers down your spine while your hands knit into his hair.

“And you think I don’t love this pussy of yours?” He pulls back to look down at you as if you’d tried to assert that the sky isn’t blue. “Like my dick doesn’t twitch every fuckin’ time I think about it.”

You gasp as his hand slips into your pants and under your panties to drag his finger between your folds. Your hands grasp at his forearms, hips shifting forward to chase his touch as the pad of his digit presses against your slick entrance.

“K-Katsuki,” you whisper, voice trembling as you teen with anticipation and all you’re met with is his smug smirk.

“You oughta know better, so I’m gonna show you exactly how much I love this sweet fuckin’ cunt of yours.”

It’s a promise. One that he clearly intends to make good on, but not without having his fun tormenting you first.

“Whaddya want, princess? You want me inside you?” His voice drops as he leans in close enough that you can feel his breath on your chin. “Which part, huh?”

His lips come so close to yours, but he doesn’t close the distance and when you try, he pulls back.

“C’mon, baby. Use your words. Which part of me do you want in your pussy first? Because you’re getting all of ‘em,” he insists as his fingers migrate to your clit, drawing it in slow, agonizing circles.

“Fingers. Please,” you beg, shifting your hips again as a moan is pulled from your lungs.

“Good girl,” he praises quietly, rewarding you by slipping his middle finger right where you want it most. “Like this?”

“More, please,” you implore, sighing with relief as he indulges you and adds another.

“Gettin’ greedy already?” He smirks, slowly postponing his fingers in and out of you and his lips finally meet with yours. “You have any idea how hard you’re makin’ me? Just feelin’ your insides—hell. Just lookin’ at cha makes me wanna shove my cock in ya already. It’s hard keepin’ my hands to myself when we’re out, y’know. Watchin’ everybody look at you, but they don’t get to have this.”

His teeth catch your bottom lip as his fingers start to move faster and your spine bows beneath him. His warm, wet mouth is on your breasts again, smothering them with kisses and love bites as he relishes in the feeling of you writhing beneath his touch.

“S’all fuckin’ mine. And I’ll be damned if you don’t understand how much I treasure every single inch of you.”

Before you know it, his tongue is between your thighs, expertly spelling out all the declarations that he’s made. His tongue delves inside of you, nose bumping your clit as a groan vibrates against your core.

“Fuck. Like I wouldn’t love a pussy that tastes this sweet,” he huffs a laugh and licks a stripe up your center, letting the tip of his tongue toy with your clit.

“Katsuki,” you whine, breath escaping in an airy whisper.

The sound of his name on your lips spurs him on and he starts devouring you like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. It’s sloppy, but it’s glorious. Your fingers knit into his hair, desperate for something to hold onto you when that familiar feeling threatens to have you spiraling out of control.

“Baby. B-baby, I—fuck!” Your hips buck and his hands seize them, wrapping around your thighs to lock them down into place as he continues his efforts.

He doesn’t relent when you slap your hands to the sheets, nor when your cries echo off of the walls. It isn’t until tears run over your cheeks and your hips nearly break free of his grasp that he finally lets go and sits back on his haunches. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, revealing a smug grin as he climbs over you, staring down at your trembling form with pride gleaming in his carmine gaze.

“You okay, baby?” His voice is softer when he leans down to brush the tip of his nose against yours.

“Mhm,” you hum, eyes closed and mind still reeling when you open them again as he captures your mouth.

You taste yourself on his lips, sticky and sweet, and then again on his tongue when he works it into your mouth. Your arms wind around his neck, holding him close as he shuffles out of his sweatpants, suddenly desperate to be inside you as your mouths work against one another in a struggle for dominance.

“I love you,” he breathes out, panting when he breaks away.

His forehead falls against yours and his hand cups your face. He decides that his primal urges can wait a moment.

“I love you more than anything. And for more than just your body, y’know.”

His thumb glides against your cheek as he pulls back to look at you, his eyes searching your face. A perfect face, he thinks. You can feel your cheeks filling with warmth and the urge to look away, but you know better. He won’t let you hide from him like that.

“I love the way you laugh. The way you smile,” he goes on, a fond smile ever present on his lips. “The way you never hesitate to yell at me when I’m bein’ an ass.”

You laugh and look away, but he gently tilts your face back to focus on him, mirroring your amused smile.

“I love how smart you are. How hard you work. The way you can always make me laugh. Even the annoying shit you do that I pretend like I can’t stand,” he chuckles. “I love all that too. I love every last fuckin’ thing about you, baby. And I always will.”

“I love you too, Katsuki,” you say softly, resting your hand over the one on your face. “I love you so much.”

“I know ya do,” he whispers, his tender smile leaving a kiss on your forehead as he takes your hands in his, intertwining them as he repositions himself between your legs.

He slowly nudges himself inside you, sighing with relief when he feels the comforting warmth of your walls hugging him tight and you respond in kind, a gentle gasp leaving your lungs as your brows pinch together.

His intention is everything it wasn’t only moments ago. It’s careful and purposeful. His hips roll at a steady pace, each thrust deliberately bringing you closer to euphoria as your bodies meld together like they were made for one another.

“I love you,” he whispers in your ear, trailing kisses along your jaw as he increases the tempo.

“I love you too,” you murmur back, breath catching in your throat as you squeeze his hands tight, moaning as you begin to feel that thrumming in your ears again. “Katsuki, oh my God.”

“I know, baby. I know,” he pants, giving your hands a gentle squeeze as he drives you both right up to the edge. “Fuck, I love you.”

A few more thrusts is all it takes to do you both in. You come undone with a sob and he folds his arm beneath you, keeping one hand tight around yours while he holds you close. He grunts, hips stuttering as he pours himself into you.

You both lay there for a moment, collecting yourselves through the haze of bliss with no shortage of tender touches and contented bums.

He eventually falls to the side of you to pull you against his chest and kiss the top of your head while his fingertips glide along your spine, your nerves still singing a beautiful chorus of elation.

“Still think I might not love you?” He murmurs into your hair.

“No,” you giggle, nuzzling your face into his chest while your arm folds over his middle. “I know you do.”

If you enjoyed this, likes, comments, & reblogs are greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading <3

#kinktober 👻#katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader smut #bakugou x reader smut #bakugo x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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himbos-hotline · 2 months

Note

Tiny box time (Screenshot from my tablet) - Happy Weekend!

little box time for our lil girl! im so exicted for her to get better. how was professor chugs' most recently class?

#mouse has pals #kat nip #babygirl in her box

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turtletaubwrites · 5 days

Text

Numbers Game ~ Part 15

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 4533

Ao3 Link

Summary: Your frightening lovers want to spoil you for a job well done, but something else might get spoiled in the process.

Author's Note: This was why I paused. Numbers Game is my life now. The air I breathe. I've got to stop daydreaming chapters at work, I am unwell 🥴

Flashbacks from reader's past are bracketed between these symbols: ~🌲🌲🌲~

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Fluff, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Degradation, Blood and Violence, Hair-Pulling, Vaginal Fingering, Unprotected Sex (stay safe out there), PIV Sex, Cunnilingus, Body Worship, Multiple Orgasms, Scratching, Knifeplay (hookplay?), Dom Mihawk, Dom Crocodile, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Guilt crawled into your chest as warm bodies held you close. Your legs were tangled with Buggy’s, and his gentle snoring pulled at the corner of your lips, an almost smile.

I thought I was… I felt it before…

All the guilt you'd held for the first few days after Crocodile and Mihawk came poured back into you. The frustration you'd had with Buggy felt sour on your tongue, along with the sick feeling of betrayal you’d carried before he’d shown you it was all okay.

Now it was over a week since he'd given you that smile of acceptance, and the two of you were caught in the whirlwind of these powerful men.

You nuzzled against Buggy’s chest, remembering how many times he’d put himself at risk for you, protected you, even after all the mistakes he’d made. Even after watching you fall apart for them. Warmth filled you, rolling that guilt away as you sighed against him.

The guilt had rolled away, but ice formed in its place at the thought of the other men on the bed.

Buggy…

“Wake up darling, you have some outfits to try on.”

Mihawk had crawled over you, leaving tingling kisses on your neck until you squirmed awake, nipping at your ear before dragging you to the edge of the bed.

“I like the dress,” Crocodile prompted after they’d all watched you twirl a few times in different styles of frighteningly expensive clothes.

“Yes, yes,” Mihawk brushed him off, tracing his fingers over the loose top he’d helped you button up, tucking it strategically into your perfectly tailored pants while he looked you over. “You clearly have an old fashioned taste.”

“What’s that supposed to mean–”

“How about the red one,” Buggy cut in, circling the room with a bright red top in his floating hands.

“I’m hungry,” you announced before the other men could respond.

“You look lovely,” Mihawk bragged, pulling you toward him to lay a kiss on the inside of your wrist. The heat in his eyes caught your breath before he guided you toward a pile of shoes.

“This feels weird,” you laughed from the doorway. They stood in the hall, waiting for you to walk toward them like parents waiting for their toddler’s first step. “Can you look away or something, you’re making me nervous.”

The looks on their faces made you choke on another laugh before finally stepping out to walk on your own. There was no longer a need to carry you since very nice shoes protected your feet, yet they both reached out for your hand. They narrowed their eyes at each other again until you squealed, running past them while Buggy cheered you on.

“I’m hungry!”

No punishments awaited you as breakfast came with soft smiles and pretty words, before party planning took center stage again.

~🌲🌲🌲~

“What kind of teenager hates parties, and loves homework,” Kat whined, messing with your hair while you studied. “Don’t you already have like two hundred percent in that class?”

“That’s not how that works,” you teased, closing your textbook to hold against your chest. “And I love parties. Just not these parties.”

“Come on, big sis! Get ready with me,” she implored, her puppy dog eyes way too effective.

“Fine,” you gave in with a laugh, setting your homework aside. “Just promise you’ll come save me if Mrs. Cargill corners me again.”

“Promise,” she giggled, pulling you toward the vanity.

~🌲🌲🌲~

You knew what your contacts would expect at an event like this, but you were more than happy to hand off your recommendations so that staff could handle the rest of the party details.

That left you free to dive into the numbers. It was impossible to make projections for this “product,” but you did your best.

Numbers felt familiar, relaxing, but it seemed you had another talent that Crocodile drew from you.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he praised, gesturing to your notes. “You already gave us dirt on most of them when you made the list. I can’t imagine that every investment banker knows so much about their client’s sordid affairs?”

“You’d be surprised,” you said lightly, staring at a few names in front of you. “But I think I can add more details to a few of these.”

“Good girl,” he hummed, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Show me how to ruin these rich idiots. Just in case we need to, of course.”

You all had a working dinner in the banquet hall as staff scurried around, but sitting between Crocodile and Mihawk at that familiar head table made your skin hot.

“Mm, what a needy rabbit. Are you remembering how much you enjoyed being dessert? I’m sure we can arrange another–”

“Mihawk,” Crocodile hissed, silver eyes flicking down to the long fingers that were teasing over your thighs. “Behave. The staff don’t get to have a show.”

“Please, I doubt there’s anyone in a five mile radius that isn’t keenly aware of how we all enjoy our downtime,” Mihawk scoffed, removing his hand from your lap to take a sip of wine. He glanced at your burning face, trailing a finger against your cheek with a satisfied smile. “You’re ours. Isn’t that right, pet?”

“Yes,” you breathed, grinning at the sight of Buggy’s head floating around from Mihawk’s other side.

“And what am I, chopped liver,” he joked, setting his chin on a hand he’d floated in front of your plate, pouting at Mihawk.

“That’s exactly what you are,” Crocodile huffed a laugh, a pleased grin lighting up Buggy’s face at the sound. “Hurry it up, aren’t you supposed to lead rehearsals or something?”

Buggy hesitated for a moment, eyes flicking to you before he reconnected with his body. Mihawk chuckled, swirling his wine glass.

“Our little clown is just worried he’ll miss out on dessert.”

Buggy gave you a little wink as he left the hall, and it seemed like you’d never get another moment alone with him.

Seems like I’ll never get a moment alone with myself either.

No regrets accompanied that thought while Mihawk insisted on carrying you back to the suite after your “hard day at work.” You melted against him, the scent of his skin making you shiver. Everything about him was still so overwhelming, and he hummed through the hallway as if he could feel your anticipation.

“Mm, my little treasure,” he rasped, unbuttoning your shirt while you swayed on the soft carpet.

Crocodile had already vetoed a visit from Adam, but you couldn’t complain when he knelt behind you, carefully helping you out of your top while he kissed along your spine.

“Can’t believe we found ourselves such a gorgeous, and brilliant, little sweetheart,” he praised between kisses while Mihawk helped you out of the rest of your clothes. “Such a good girl for us, aren’t you, Y/N?”

“Mhm,” you whined, nearly falling until Mihawk steadied you with an arm around your waist, pulling your chin with his other hand to snare you with those golden eyes.

“It’s true,” he breathed, the heat in his words stopping your breath as his gaze trailed over your skin, your lips, your wide, frantic eyes. “We wouldn’t be this close to achieving our goals so soon if you weren’t such a talented, and hard working, little rabbit. I was afraid to spoil you too much, but maybe… Maybe you deserve it. Do you think you deserve to be spoiled?”

He whispered the last words into your ear, and it was too much. He caught you around the waist as your knees went weak, a low, dangerous chuckle vibrating through his chest at the sound of your desperate moan.

Your whole body was already tingling when he laid you on the bed, your eyes rolling as they surrounded you, warm hands on your sensitive skin.

“You’ll get every little thing you want. Daddy’s good girl can have it all. You believe me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, daddy,” you moaned, your voice high and needy as their hands and lips showered your body with sensations. Slick flowed down your thighs, your core still untouched, yet the pleasure of their attention brought you so close. You thought a single breath might tip the scale.

“Who’s fingers would you like first, darling?”

“Don’t test her when she’s getting spoiled,” Crocodile chided as you let out a weak sob. His hand trailed up your slippery thigh, mirroring Mihawk’s as he teased closer.

“Of course,” he purred, reaching his fingers to entwine with the larger man’s, pressing both of their hands against your skin while you held your breath. The violence you prepared for didn’t arrive, just a satisfied noise from the swordsman as their fingers stayed tangled along your wet thigh. “Why don’t we spoil her together?”

Crocodile let out his own pleased hum as Mihawk guided his hand to your entrance.

“Such a pretty pussy,” your scarred lover praised, making you twitch with need as both of their fingers dragged through your folds, teasing around your clit.

“Pleasepleaseplease.”

“Our poor little rabbit is begging when she’s supposed to be getting spoiled. We–”

“You talk too much, swordsman.”

Mihawk laughed while you cried out, Crocodile pulling him along until they both shoved fingers into your drenched, aching cunt. Mihawk brought his free hand to tease his thumb around your clit, and you were gone.

You couldn’t tell how many fingers they were forcing into you, but the fact that it was both of them at once had you falling apart, wordless screams filling the air. They showered you with praise you couldn’t comprehend, low, satisfied laughter rolling over you while they kept fucking their fingers into you.

After an eternity, your breathing and vision returned to see Mihawk tilt his head toward the other man. You felt for the first time that his words weren’t meant to tease you. That you weren’t his target.

“How would you like to spoil her?”

“Why don’t you prove you can play nice for once,” Crocodile rasped, fingers still playing as the heat in his voice arched your back. “Take care of our girl.”

“I’m not one to take orders,” Mihawk drawled, removing those dangerous fingers to trail wetness down your thigh, “but I suppose some cooperation wouldn’t hurt.”

The larger man let out a deep laugh at that, leaning down to kiss your trembling lips before taking his hand away.

“Don’t worry, babydoll. Just keep making all those pretty faces for me. Show me what a sweet girl you are.”

“Please— fuck…“

Mihawk wielded his tongue as if it were another sword, strong, precise, and overpowering strokes through your needy cunt, his smug laughter tearing through you. Crocodile swallowed your moans, a soft, deep kiss making you whimper beneath them.

Your weak hands reached for anything, until Crocodile guided them to the swordsman’s dark hair. Watching his hawk eyes roll back when you tugged on those strands tightened that pressure in your core. Affecting this untouchable man was intoxicating.

“Pull harder, sweetheart,” Crocodile commanded, and you didn’t hesitate. A hungry moan vibrated through your core as Mihawk feasted on your flesh.

“You’re making it difficult to play nice, Crocodile,” he accused, taking a moment to breathe and glare.

“The world’s greatest swordsman backing down from a challenge,” he scoffed, smoothing that large hand down your side.

Mihawk only responded with a dangerous laugh, sliding two long fingers inside you as his tongue found your clit.

Crocodile replaced his hand with his hook, trailing cold metal across your skin. Mihawk curled his wicked fingers up, teasing that perfect spot just as the sharp tip of the hook scraped down your torso.

Throat already hoarse from wordless screams, you shook with pleasure, with overwhelm.

How is this real?

The two of them surrounded you again, kissing, touching, praising, driving you mad. You never wanted it to stop.

“What happened to playing nice,” Mihawk teased, featherlight fingers testing the red line down your body.

“That was your challenge, not mine,” the other man rasped, grabbing one of your thighs to spread your legs. “Think you can fuck my sweet girl without being mean for once?”

The swordsman crawled up your body, eyeing you with the satisfaction of a hunter admiring his catch.

“You love it when I’m mean, don’t you, rabbit?”

“Yes, sir,” you managed, taking pride in the flash of pleasure in those golden eyes. He let you taste yourself on his tongue, kissing you with that same perfect control he’d brought you to bliss with.

Then he claimed you, his thick cock filling you to the hilt while he smiled against your whimpering lips.

“My little darling,” he purred, watching your face as he started rolling into you. “I will–”

“Scratch his back, sweetheart.”

Crocodile’s smoky voice charged through you, and your nails found Mihawk’s flesh before he could finish his sentence. Instead of words, a low moan moved through him, and just a hint of hesitation in his rhythm.

“What are you–”

“Harder.”

You obeyed Crocodile without a thought, digging your nails in as you tore them down the swordsman’s back.

“Gods– fuck,” Mihawk cursed with a heavy groan, shoving into you so hard you let go, crying out his name. Your breath caught in your throat at the ferocity in his eyes.

“What’s your game, sandman,” he growled, managing to keep his rolling pace despite the barely contained violence vibrating through his body. “Have we made a bet I’m not aware of? Should I negotiate my terms? Or do you just want to watch me rip her apart?”

Unable to play dead any longer, you let out a needy gasp before risking everything by putting your nails to his back again. Crocodile’s deep laughter was like honey, trapping you in the sweet danger of Mihawk’s pleasure and rage.

Those golden eyes rolled back again, before he clenched his jaw, forcing rough breaths through gritted teeth.

“Thought you wanted nice,” Mihawk threatened, your body flooding with fear. Fear like fire and ice in your veins that pushed you over the edge. He seethed, pinning your hands while you came on his cock.

“Our little angel was being nice, swordsman,” Crocodile laughed, sliding up the bed to meet Mihawk’s eyes while he fucked you through your orgasm. “I figured with how twisted you are, you might enjoy someone returning favor. Am I wrong?”

Only your insane need to hear this conversation stopped you from going dumb as Mihawk kept going, staying in control. Yet, you swore you felt him pulsing inside you at Crocodile’s words.

“How thoughtful,” Mihawk deadpanned, though he couldn’t hide his heavy breaths, his darkened eyes. He looked down at you, huffing a laugh at your needy face. “Hear that, little rabbit? Your daddy wants to hurt me.”

Your eyes rolled back at the thought, both men laughing until Mihawk stopped being nice.

"You asked for this, whore," he snarled, pushing both of your thighs toward you, folding you in half with a manic grin on his face. Finally, he fucked all that rage into your aching cunt, the brutal pace tearing screams from you.

“Play nice.”

Panic. Pure terror crashed over you like a wave at the sight of Crocodile’s hook at Mihawk’s throat, his fingers ripping into the back of the swordsman’s hair to pull his neck taut.

Terror turned to wicked chaos as Mihawk’s fingers bruised into your thighs while he let out a filthy, delicious moan. He bucked into you while he stared up at Crocodile’s stern face. His cock twitched as he filled you, so much come spilling out as he spasmed, as you milked him of every last drop. Once again, your reckless body fell apart. Danger wrapped around you like another lover to hold you down while they fucked every last shred of self preservation out of you.

You forced your heavy lidded eyes open, still moaning from aftershocks, but the sight you saw sent cold fear through your veins again, pleasure freezing with your breath.

The thin trail of blood sliding down the column of Mihawk’s throat was the only thing that moved. You couldn’t read their faces as their eyes burned into each other, and Crocodile kept his hand and his hook where they were.

“Honey, I’m hooome,” Buggy sang, slamming the door behind him. His mouth fell slack, but he didn’t hesitate as they started to pull away. He sent his legs flying toward each of their faces while he shoved his arms under your body, tearing you away.

Gasping at the abrupt loss of Mihawk inside you, you wrapped your arms around Buggy’s neck, surprised when no one else grabbed you.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Buggy cursed under his breath, your nude body shaking in his grasp as he shot toward the door.

Once again, a wave of sand blocked your path, starting to form into a large body in front of you. Buggy turned, heading toward the bathroom until Mihawk stepped in the way. He looked even more terrifying than usual, his eyes flashing with what looked like pleasure as that line of blood flowed down to grace his collarbone.

“Give her to me,” Mihawk ordered, his voice uncomfortably light as he stared Buggy down.

“N-no,” Buggy refused as he spun around, searching for a way out that didn’t exist.

“Put her down,” Crocodile ordered. Sand spun through the air, trapping you all in a tight circle.

“I won’t let you hurt her,” Buggy snarled, his gloved fingers digging into you as you cried out his name. The swirling sand faded away, until all you could hear were the ragged breaths from yours and Buggy’s lips.

“Why don’t you pets get cleaned up,” Mihawk soothed, tilting his head at Crocodile. “Daddy and I can talk things out. What do you think, sandman?”

“Fine. But let me see my girl first.”

“I won’t–”

“Please, Buggy,” you breathed, looking up to meet his frantic eyes. He swallowed before nodding, then gingerly placed you into Crocodile’s arms.

“That was my fault,” he sighed, and you knew you should have been concerned at how quickly you melted under his gaze. “I didn’t mean to scare you sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

Nodding, you already felt relaxed in his arms.

“I know you’ll take care of me, daddy.”

You wished you could say that a thousand times to see that frightening face, touched with a quiet, pleased shock. His steely eyes softened, and you would have been happy to stay there, to fall asleep while he watched you. He leaned down, your tired body sinking into him as he kissed you. Gentle, yet tasting. Like you were his to enjoy.

“May I,” Mihawk asked, with no bite to his voice. The larger man let him take you in his arms, and the swordsman studied your face before pressing a kiss to your temple. He walked you toward the bathroom, whispering in your ear after he stepped through the door. “I can apologize if you like, rabbit, but you know there was no reason to be afraid. You knew there was something much more fun brewing, didn’t you?”

He smirked at your hesitation, but when his lips met yours, all that need flooded through you again, your skin hot against his. He gave a satisfied hum at your little whimpers, then placed you back into Buggy’s arms, his body reconnected again.

Mihawk pinched you both on the cheek, looking at you like naughty school children.

“Behave, little pets,” he taunted, tapping his ear before leaving you alone.

“Bug—”

Buggy pressed a finger to your lips before setting you down in the shower, stripping comically fast before joining you. He turned the water on, and then his hands were on you, his worried eyes raking over your skin.

“I’m okay, Bugs,” you whispered as you pulled him close. “Thank you for saving me.”

“I didn’t save you,” he admitted, acid burning in his voice. “I’m fucking useless. I’m sorry, Y/N. I–”

“Shut up,” you hissed, grabbing his cheeks the way he always does to you. The look of shock in those beautiful eyes would have made you laugh if you weren’t on limited time. “You saved me from that moment, and you keep saving me. I hope you don’t need to, but… thank you, Buggy.”

Tiny movements on that painted face could have been missed if you hadn’t been through so much with him.

“Anything for my star,” he gave in, that sweet, slow smile making it all the way to his eyes.

You could have basked in that moment forever, but a sound from the other room reminded you that time was short. So you put your hands on his chest, and grinned up at your silly clown.

“There’s something I didn’t get to tell you before.”

“Really,” Buggy asked, eyes brightening before he tried to school his features. “I hope it’s something flashy.”

“Of course it is,” you whispered, fighting the urge to talk yourself out of it again.

“I love you too, Buggy.”

There was nothing but the spill of hot water beside you, and the look of soft wonder on Buggy’s face.

You were about to break the silence when he pulled you into him, and the soft noise he let out filled you with a feeling you didn't know how to name. All you knew was that it was good, and it sent tingling chills across your skin in the steamy room. Dragging Buggy under the water to trade giddy whispers of “I love you,” cleansed you of more grime than soap ever could.

“I hope you haven’t used up all the hot water,” Mihawk warned as he strode into the room. Crocodile followed behind, setting his hook on the counter before they took over the shower.

Buggy wrapped you in a soft towel before starting on his hair, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off of those frightening men. They shared their own hushed words as the water fell, and you wished you could have been in two places at once, aching to know what had happened in the other room. The obsession they’d created in you made you want to hear their every word.

“I’m sorry,” you quavered behind Mihawk as he ran that lovely oil through his beard. He raised an eyebrow at you until you gestured to his back. Shaking his head with a laugh, he turned to glance over his shoulder at the mirror, admiring the marks on his skin before coming toward you.

“Don’t be sorry, darling,” he purred, running his thumb across your lower lip. “Just make sure you're ready to play next time. It turns out that overgrown lizard is more intelligent than he looks.”

“Excuse me?” Crocodile turned around, almost out the door.

“Just a joke,” Mihawk hummed, walking up to the taller man to place a hand on his arm. “Let’s get some sleep, and you can call me names in the morning.”

Crocodile narrowed his eyes, but gave in with a sigh before you were all crawling into bed again. He grumbled his “no,” about the cat, and hushed Mihawk who’d started whispering cat smuggling plans. Buggy pulled you close, until you were caught in the beat of his heart as you curled against his chest.

Love.

That thought had kept you awake the night before, but tonight it sent you into soft dreams full of warm hands and deep laughter, no stormy seas in sight.

“Mm, pretty girl,” Crocodile praised while you twirled in the purple dress he’d chosen. You knew it was stupid get comfortable in this violent world, but you couldn’t help it. They were spoiling you, and it was working so fucking well.

It’s not the things. It’s them.

That thought would have felt like an excuse if you hadn’t known it in your bones to be true. These three bad men had taken you over, and there was no place you’d rather be than on that giant bed, or this green, velvet couch.

Buggy left after dinner again, nonstop rehearsals taking over his time, leaving you snug between your other lovers, and a bottle of wine. Mihawk sent goosebumps over your skin as he talked you through more ways to describe all the scents and flavors you could feel in each sip.

“Excuse me, Sir Crocodile?”

Mohji’s voice called through the door, stepping in quickly at Crocodile’s gruff, “come in.”

The beast tamer's eyes caught on you for a moment, and you had a moment of wondering what he thought. Of what Buggy’s old crew thought of you.

But they had all happily left Buggy in the dirt to go along with the new regime, and you smiled when you realized you didn’t care what any of them thought. At least you didn’t care right now, and you’d try to keep it that way.

I’m happy, and their opinions don't matter.

“Yes, sir, we have a guest. He said he was expected?”

“Yes, thank you,” Mihawk cut in, standing up to shoo him out of the room. “Send him in.”

“You knew about this guest,” Crocodile bristled, stamping out his cigar before standing, and helping you off the couch. He led you toward the door, his large hand warming your back through the thin fabric of your dress. “Why didn’t you share with the class?”

“Apologies, I wasn’t sure if he’d show up. I didn’t want to cause a fuss with all the party arrangements going on.”

“Who–”

“Thanks, I’ve got it,” came a deep voice before the door opened wide, revealing a red haired man that looked more relaxed than anyone you’d ever seen. He had a thick cloak over his shoulders, although his loose shirt was open, and he wore sandals that left traces of sand across the floor.

He broke out into a disarming smile when he saw Mihawk, and you noticed three scars across his eye.

“Look at you, ol’ Hawk Eyes,” he beamed, cocking his head at the swordsman. “Got a drink for an old friend?”

“One track mind, as always,” Mihawk drawled. Boredom had taken over his voice again, but a hint of that sharp, teasing edge remained. “Let me introduce you. I believe you’ve met my associate, Sir Crocodile in passing, or at the very least have heard of each other’s… escapades.”

Crocodile nodded, but didn’t take the offered hand, leaving his to tense against your back. The red haired man didn’t look bothered at all, and your mind was trying to put pieces together before he poured his attention onto you. You didn’t hear Mihawk introduce you as this man took your hand, stepping close.

“Pleasure to meet you, miss Y/N,” he rasped, winking as he leaned down to kiss your knuckles. He rubbed his thumb across your hand, a little smirk forming on his face when he noticed your lips part for him. He didn’t release you before meeting Mihawk's eyes again.

“I knew you were up to something, Hawk Eyes, but I didn't expect to find you with such a gorgeous, little bunny. I thought you were more focused on business than pleasure lately.”

“Come now, Shanks. Who says we can’t have both?”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: 😈😈

Part 16

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

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my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction · 1 month

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Pt. 3 of modern Wolf Hybrid! Katsuki Bakugou X Bunny Hybrid! Reader

MNDI!

Help, I've been tricked into writing ANOTHER series! This time on Accident! This is part 3 of my first Wolf!Katsuki fic, and while technically not required to enjoy this one, I highly recommend giving it a read for context(Check the masterlist for pt. 2)! This is about you getting comforted by your wolf kemonomimi boyfriend after getting basically disowned by your parents for being with him...of course, he has his own way of making you forget allll about that ;)

words: 3.3k

Warnings: cursing, Reader is AFAB, Pretty sure this is hurt comfort, Penetrative sex, P in V, breeding kink (Reader is using some kind of contraceptive), monsterfucking(? Maybe?), biting, fairly vanilla by my tastes but reader is bratty bottom and Kat is brat tamer

Smut starts after the *

You were awoken to the feeling of Katsuki nipping at your neck, something he did all the time as a sign of affection. Your eyes were still a little puffy from crying, despite the fact that you've been sleeping for...what? 10 hours? 12? You had no clue.

You just didn't want to face the reality that you've been thrown out by your family just yet. You told your parents that you were dating a wolf man last night, and they didn't take the news well. It could be worse, you could be living with them or relying on them financially, but they still practically disowned you.

"Don't come back until you've rid yourself of that...that....heathen!"

Your mothers words still rang in your ears, and although you were lamenting the fact that she was so willing to be rid of you, you also felt some...anger. Not anger for yourself, but rather anger for Katsuki.

How could she call him that? She didn't know him at all...Sure, he could be rude, brash, a little arrogant, but he also loved you. He was the man that would go to the ends of the earth for you, who lit up in his own way every time he saw you, who was holding you close right this second...He hasn't done a damn thing to hurt you.

If anyone hurt you, it was your mother, your parents...

"I know you're awake," Katsuki grumbled. You forgot he was trying to get your attention. His voice was gruff and low from the lack of use, his arms tightening around you as his tail began to thump across your legs.

"Time 's it," you asked sleepily, turning in his grasp so you could press your face in his broad and muscled chest. He immediately started to pet you, smoothing your bunny ears down and against your scalp as he glanced at the clock.

"6," he responded, kissing your forehead.

"Too early," you scoffed, nuzzling into the crevice between his pecs.

"It's late, dumbass," he grumbled, moving to tilt your chin up, wanting to look you in the eyes.

"For you," you mumbled, looking up at him with a pout. He fully pouted back, his brows furrowed and his lip jutting out ever so slightly as his ruby red eyes pierced into yours.

"Just let me sleep in," you pleaded, your hand sliding up his shoulder and to his ears, giving them a nice scratch at the base.

he hummed in response, eyes closing as he leaned into your touch. "what'm I supposed to do while you sleep," he groaned, hand moving to your waist.

"What did you do before me," you asked tiredly, your eyes slowly shutting.

"Can't remember," he sighed, tilting your bodies so you were both laid diagonally across the bed, his face now nuzzled into your neck. he planted little kisses on the spot where your shoulder met the base of your neck, nibbling at the flesh and breathing in your scent.

"Cut it out," you groaned, smiling despite yourself as your fingers ran through his short, spikey hair.

a low growl of satisfaction came from his chest, before he trailed kisses up the side of your neck to your cheek.

"How're you feelin'," He asked gently, his voice still a little gravely. He wasn't asking in the way he asked when he wanted you to sing his praises for pleasing you, but in a sweeter, more caring way. He was asking about last night.

"Oh, uh...ok. I'm handling it..." you sighed, seeing no use in telling him half truths like, "I'm fine," or, "I forgot about it," like you would if someone else asked. He had a right to your honesty.

"Jus' handling it," he asked with a frown, his tone laced with worry.

What did he need to do to help you? What was on your mind? Did you need something specifically from him that you weren't getting?

You see, beneath all that rough n' tough exterior was a rather anxious man, one who wanted you to have all that you deserved, and in his mind that was everything. Someone good enough to be so loved by him must deserve the word.

"I guess...I just wanna forget about it right now, y'know? I need something to keep me occupied." You rubbed at your tired eyes, looking down at his expression. You didn't know how, but he always managed to look at you like you were a deity...not in the, "I'd kneel at your feet and beg for your grace," sort of way (at least usually), more in the, "I'd set the world ablaze in the scorching fires of passion, bringing anyone who dares speak ill of you to their knees with no mercy," sort of way.

It made you melt, knowing he cared so deeply beyond his words. Maybe that's why you liked him so much. Because you know he won't lie to you for his own gain. If he didn't like you, he'd say so, no matter how beneficial a relationship with you might be to him. He meant what he said and said what he meant, and that was something you could respect.

"Forget about it, huh," he mused, holding your hand and running his thumb back and forth across your knuckles. He seemed to be thinking, considering all the ways he could help, before a devilish grin appeared on his face.

You knew that look all too well. A smile crept onto your own face, a little bashful and a little lustful. Good thing it was early, that way you'd have time to sleep in after what he no doubt planned to put you through.

"Yeah," you sighed, putting on an oblivious expression you both knew was fake, if not from your tone then from the way your little cottontail was wagging quickly.

"I can help with that," he offered, his voice husky and his face in a cocky grin. He slowly shifted the two of you, his chest against yours and his rough hands on your arms.

"Well aren't you sweet," you giggled sarcastically, kissing him gently as your hands ran up and down his broad back. He kissed you back with fervor, smiling against your lips as he kept himself hovered above you with one arm, holding your hip with the other.

You could feel his hand slipping under your shirt, caressing your side as his kisses became more desperate. "Katsu," you whispered seductively, laughter laced within his name.

He was grinning like the Cheshire cat, his hand moving farther up your torso, taking your breast in his hand with no restraint. He was used to your body, he saw no reason to beat around the bush, and your little moans definitely confirmed that for him as he kneaded the doughy flesh. The arm that holds him up shifts to cradle your head, his fingers buried in your hair.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up to him and kissing him passionately, already kicking your pajama pants off. Once those were removed, you began to take his shirt off, something he did nothing to fight against, tearing away from you and helping you lift the clothing above his head as he sat on his knees.

You sat up with him, but he gently pushed you back down as your lips collided once more. You could tell he was being extra sweet with you, clearly not wanting to give you any extra stress after the night you had previously, and although you appreciated the thought it wasn't exactly what you wanted. Thinking of how to bring this up to him as he took the shirt off your body, you didn't even realize that he could plainly see you were lost in thought.

Frowning, his ears flattened back ever so slightly. What could you be thinking about right now that wasn't him? Actually there were a lot of things...but he was supposed to be distracting you right now, and he knew he was a pretty damn good distraction!

He leaned in and planted kisses down your collarbone, moving towards you breasts and watching you closely for a reaction. You idly toyed with his hair and ears, your eyes on him but thoughtful and clearly not present. He pouted, before abruptly biting down on your nipple. He didn't do it too hard, knowing how sensitive it was, but he did it hard enough to make you gasp in surprise.

"Katsuki," you yelped with a scolding yet slightly amused tone, eyes wide and lips in the tiniest of smiles. There he was. The Katsuki you wanted.

Ever impatient, he scowled at you whilst trailing kisses across the valley of your bust, then down the center towards your navel. "What? You told me to distract you," he scoffed, gripping your left calf and hoisting it over his shoulder.

"Am I not allowed to think," you argued, knowing full well this was a battle you were losing terribly.

He grinned malevolently, a fire in his eyes you were so used to seeing.

"Y'know what, bun? That's a damn good idea," he laughed, peppering kisses beneath your belly button and towards your increasingly aching sex. He kneaded your thigh with his hand, not once breaking eye contact as he carefully pulled your underwear down (for once).

His mouth moved around your pussy lips and across the innermost parts of your thigh, smiling up at you devilishly.

"Don't fucking think," he ordered gruffly, his open mouth kisses moving agonizingly slowly towards your soaking folds. He wanted you to say it. To say you wouldn't think...

"Make me," you sniffed, an expectant smile on your face. What kind of brat would you be if you just took his orders? This was how you played your part, your role in the game that was your sex life with Katsuki...just as he played his role by taming you.

"You must think you're so fuckin' cute," he scoffed, to which you quickly shot back, "I thought I wasn't aloud to think."

He bit down on your right inner thigh, hard enough to leave indents but not break the skin. You cried out in pain, and he yanked on your left leg to bring your dripping sex closer to his face. "You're lucky you taste so damn good," he grumbled, sticking his tongue out and watching for your reaction. He didn't need you to beg with your words, not when you begged like that with your eyes and body...of course, a little verbal begging never hurt.

He pressed his tongue flat against your clit, listening to you moan for him and roll your hips against his face. He immediately pinned your hips down with one hand, glaring up at you before continuing. His lips met the area surrounding your clit, tongue lapping up and down the nub, slow at first but speeding up with the encouragement of your voice.

"Mmmnh...Katsuki...don't stop..."

He hummed against you, powerful vibrations adding that extra stimulation you needed. His ministrations sped up, tongue moving faster and faster, the hand the held your hip down now encouraging your thrusting into him.

your hand snaked into his hair, playing with his ears as the fingers on your thigh moved to prod at your entrance. He moaned at your touch, more of that sweet vibrating coursing through you, and promptly shoved two fingers into you.

They immediately curled upwards, hitting your G-spot and increasing the writhing you did in his grasp, as well as the volume of your moaning. How he loved listening to your voice, the rhythmic sounds burned into his brain to be replayed on nights alone, spurring his pace along.

You watched his face closely, his blissed out expression as he got off to pleasing you and only you, the way he subtly humped the sheets not going unnoticed. the very sight of him like this, shirtless and groaning and eating you like a man staved was enough to make you cum...

and you did.

"fu-FUCK, C-cumming..." you managed to splutter out, thighs tightening around his head, hands yanking his hair to stay in place. He let you ride out your high, more than happy to be nearly suffocating in your grasp, and after a few hip-rolls and loud moans, you released him with a sigh.

He sat all the way up, completely wet from the tip of his nose to the bottom of his chin after being soaked in your juices, licking his chops like you were his pray. He licked his fingers clean while he was at it, not once looking away from your sweaty, heaving body. So fucking hot. So fucking his.

"You ready for more," he chuckled, already crawling over you and pinning your hands above your head. "But my back's so sweatyyyy," you whined, arching it a little to prove your point.

"So," he scoffed, his hand sliding beneath you to hold the small of your back.

"So it's gross," you huffed, clearly just trying to buy yourself a little time for composure.

He rolled his eyes, but thought of the perfect solution as his gaze met yours again. "You don't havta lay on your back," he said slyly, as if he won some game. In one swift motion, he flipped you over, his hand sliding to your hip to knead your ass immediately.

"Kat," you whined, smiling to yourself. Why'd he have to be so damn hot?

you could hear him fiddling with his sweatpants, the sound of the fabric leaving his body sending chills down your spine. You could just see his cock in your head now, thick and solid and standing at attention, uncut with a slight lean to the left. You spent a lot of time looking at it, you should know.

"you mad because I'm smarter," he asked sarcastically, leaning down in a plank so his mouth could be right next to your ear, before resting his knees in between your legs.

"You're so funny," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. Your face was annoyed, but every inch of your body was crying out for him to take you. You even arched your back and sat up on your arms out of instinct.

"Yeah yeah, seein' as I'm about to fuck you, you shouldn't talk to me like that," he grumbles against your ear, kissing where the lobe connected to your jaw. You didn't know when to expect it, although it helped when he sat up so he could see what he was doing. He didn't really need to, but he just loved watching his cock slip inside you, especially when you're still throbbing from an orgasm.

You sat in wait, biting your lip and closing your eyes for the best experience. You could feel his tip, sticky from all the pre he leaked, prod against your pussy lips, before it slowly moved around your entrance in tight circles. He was teasing you, although knowing him, he was far too impatient to keep it up.

Just as you suspected, in mere seconds he was pushing his way deeper and deeper within you, causing your to grip the sheets in pleasure.

He wasn't doing any better, hands firmly holding your hips as he panted watching you take him in. You were so tight around him, squeezing and pulsing, sucking him in as he forced his way through.

"Fuck..." he groaned, wishing he could see your face. He finally hit your cervix, his hips meeting your as he caressed your ass. He was going to give you a moment to breathe, he could see you panting with him, your back tensing as you breathed in and relaxing as you breathed out.

"Katsu," you urged, wanting him to go already. If this were your first time with him, you might have said, "I'm ready," or, "you can go now," but those phrases have a level of innocence you no longer contain.

He let out a derisive laugh, smirking down at you as he slowly pulled back out, his tip barely staying in, before shoving you back down on him. You let out a satisfied moan, your voice muffled from your mouth pressing into the sheets. He could see your little cottontail wagging, and as he continued to thrust at an inclining speed, he grabbed it.

"Katsuki," you squealed, your voice vibrating a little from the amount of force each collision of your bodies made. The sensation you got from him gently pulling your tail was a mixture of sharp pain and intense pleasure, causing you to moan even louder and tighten around him.

"holy shit," he choked out, panting and groaning more at the new level of tightness.

The two of you were losing your rationality as Katsuki fucked you senseless, his hands moving anywhere he could access, his tip kissing your cervix over and over again in a constant rhythm. Eventually, he felt himself getting close, and he had to see your face before he finished.

He grabbed you by your bunny ears, causing you to yelp, and used his other hand to grab your chin and move your face so he could see your side profile. he shoved your head back into the pillow, this time with your head turned, his grasp still on your ears to keep you there.

"Katsuki, fuck, I'm close," you whined, trying to catch his gaze in your new position. He held eye contact with you, his hips moving at a sloppy pace.

"Fuck," he huffed, releasing your head as he planted his arms beside your head, mouth right against your fluffy ears. "I'm gonna fucking cum," he moaned, pistoning in and out of you with lust driven fervor. "You better take my fucking cum," he blathered, rambling nothing and everything into your ear.

"You're so fucking perfect" "Your body was made for me" "Don't let any drip out" "Gonna get you nice and pregnant"

with each phrase punctuated with intense thrusting, moans, and groans, you found yourself reaching your climax with him, until the knot in both of your stomachs burst simultaneously.

You cried out for him, his name like honey dripping from your lips, drowning out the sound of his several final pumps into you, each one angled perfectly and shoving every drop of his thick load deep within you. He gripped the sheets in his hands, nearly ripping the fabric, his cock buried to the hilt as he road out the wave with you.

"Kat, you don't have to do all this," you giggled, your protective boyfriend prepping to give you the best aftercare of your life. He already showered with you, a sweet and gentle gesture as he spent that time washing your hair and body (After scolding you for doing it wrong, of course). He even got out before you, seeing as he tended to shower fast, and already replaced the sheets by the time you were done.

Now, he had you wrapped up in a nest of pillows and blankets, forcing you to drink some water while he held you close. You suspected it was something primal in him, like some wolfish mating instinct, but he always said that any boyfriend worth a damn would do it.

yawning and setting your water bottle aside, you nuzzled your face into his chest, watching as the sunlight peaked in through the windows.

"Thank you for distracting me," you whispered, looking up at him with a grateful smile. He just sucked his teeth, looking askance and blushing.

"Shut up, Dumbass...It's my job as your boyfriend..."

"Right...so, about getting me pregnant, you know that's not possible?"

"I just said that 'cause I was in the moment, damn idiot!!!"

you loved your wolf man, no doubt about it.

can't write a single PinV smutfic without breeding, can I? Just completely blacked out while writing this, and somehow ended up with 3,283 words. Well, I hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment so I know how it made you feel!

tagging you because I care <3: @b134ch-m4h-ey3z

#fanfic #fan fiction #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #new writeblr #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou #help i don't know how to tag #katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo #mha bakugou #mha x reader #mha #mha smut

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meliponeon · 9 months

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[Through the darkness with you] Part 4/? (YLLZ x LWJ AU-Prepare for the angst). Do you trust him?...

Other parts! :

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/meliponeon/721607962688389120/through-the-darkness-with-you-part-2?source=share

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/meliponeon/720794299432861696/through-the-darkness-with-you-part-1?source=share

Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/meliponeon/723398913713913856/through-the-darkness-with-you-part-3-yllz-x?source=share

Tag list below:

@loannewhatever @eldritch-bisexual @lady-alexis-salt @a13x-isnt @erisannn-blog @this-rad-bastard @feamir @kat-anni @hidranea @dafan-wei-sect @randomreblogs @alissaanne23 @rosethornewrites @danmeidruid @zuko-the-turtleduck @neko-in-gusu @krysaniar @iamagaygirl @fangirly-me @ehinnopx @in-sane-ity @the-marathon-continues-nip @lakeside-paradise @reneelaicecreamxx @mdzsao3 @transitiaritualia @nie-huaisang-is-fansexual @savantthinker @dil-ki-khwahish @tirednosignalwhywhy @lianhua-jun @sunflowerglory27 @wild-mind @t-misaki @momzawa-5 @mrcformoso @turgidturnip @oneeyedoctogod @damiemontclair @furupops @t-kirkland @melonnade @chaoticfandomthot @thatwingeddaydreamer @miertje1000

#mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #wei wuxian #mdzs #lan wangji #wei ying #lan zhan #wangxian #digital art #angst #canon divergent au

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idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 · 1 year

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Raw

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 & KO / @thirteenisles

Tagging: @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @hoesforthecanes @hockeywritingcollection

Relationship: Andrei x Kat

Warning: Smut. Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids). Cum play

Summary: Flashback to the first time Kat and Andrei fuck without a condom.

Word Count: 5.8k

Comments: Tiff and Katie asked for more Kat and Drei, so they get more Kat and Drei! (Also I know we’re all secretly happy sad that the Canes are eliminated so here’s a little something to cheer people up) Hope you guys enjoy!!!

March 2022

No matter what, if Andrei wasn’t playing on a Friday or Saturday night and he was home, they always had a movie night. Kat always looked forward to those days, getting Andrei all to herself after a long week of hockey, one of the few days she didn’t have to share him with the city of Raleigh, not that she was complaining, they both loved the city, the fans, and their passion. But it was nice to have him all to herself.

This week they were watching What’s Your Number. Kat picked it out. Andrei wasn’t exactly paying attention but he grasped it was another romcom. How could he pay attention when Kat was in nothing more than a pair of his boxers and one of his Canes shirts he outgrew and it had been over a week since he last felt her sweet pussy around his cock.

They had been on the road and when he tried to sneak out to see Kat in the middle of the night Jordo had walked him back to his room. He tried desperately to convince Jordo to let him go, but there was no negotiating with him. It was the night before a back to back and Jordo didn’t need their star up all night because his girl worked for the team.

But the joke was on Jordo because he was up late anyway sexting Kat all the things he was going to do to her once they got back to Raleigh.

But, because the universe was a cruel being, he strained his groin during the second half of the back to back. It wasn’t bad, just a tweak, but Kat shooed off his every advance since.

“You need rest,” she said.

“I don’t want you to over work yourself,” she said.

“It would be worth it, Kisa,” he said, but she wouldn’t have it.

Which brought them to Friday, spending their night off watching What’s Your Number on her living room couch, more than a week since the last time he had her.

It was a good movie, or good background sound anyway. He saw it out of the corner of his eye as he watched Kat. Her skin was warm as he rested his hand on her knee before dragging it upward, his thumb rubbing soft circles. He was young, wound tight from hockey, and he finally got the girl he had been after since he entered the league, of course every chance he got he was going to try to get some.

She had picked the movie, but it was secondary to him. Everything was always secondary to him. They had been together, officially, for just over a year, but, God, she could never get enough of him. It was crazy how she could go from indifferent toward him to insatiable. But he had truly and irreversibly wiggled his way into her life.

Not that Kat complained as she let her legs part a little more to give him more room, which he greedily accepted as he trailed his hand higher on her thigh till he found the edge of his own boxers.

“Drei,” she whined softly, her voice was like honey. “We’re supposed to be watching the movie.”

“I’m watching something better,” he hummed, his accent thick before he leaned in and softly kissed the exposed skin of her neck. She smelt like the vanilla bodywash she had been using and he wanted to drown himself in her scent. Kat tilted her head to give him more room and she hummed softly, her eyes fluttering close. “It’s been too long,” he added, even if it hadn’t been, his voice muffled by her skin.

“Well, that’s not my fault,” she replied. “You’ve been sore from the game.”

“I’m not sore anymore,” he told her and nipped at her jaw before he smoothed it over with his tongue.

She let out a soft moan before she turned towards him and she wrapped her arms around his neck as she straddled his lap, pressing her hips into his. “No? You’re not sore anymore?” She asked and brushed her lips over his, humming as she teased him.

He caught her lips in a proper kiss, shamelessly gripping her ass to pull her closer as he moaned into the kiss. “Not even a little bit.”

She rolled her hips against him. “That’s good,” she hummed before kissing him deeply. He was never going to get enough of her lips and his fingers dug into her ass as he tried to pull her closer. She was his girl. His woman.

Kat could feel it as he hardened beneath her and she continued to grind down on his cock, moaning into his mouth the harder he got. “Sure you’re still watching the movie, sólnyshka?” He teased and his lip twitched up as he slipped the tips of his fingers past the band of her shorts.

“What movie?” She replied with a smirk before she nipped at his bottom lip, and he breathed a laugh before he kissed her again, gently kneading her ass.

Kat was gentle as she gentle dragged her nails down the back of his neck and she giggled when he shivered, but her giggle turned into a breathy moan as he brushed his fingers over her clothed pussy. It was his turn to chuckle as he slowly rubbed her, feeling the heat of her through the shorts, his shorts. “What? Not laughing anymore, sólnyshka?”

“Right there, Drei,” Kat moaned softly, her nails softly digging into his skin.

“Oh, here?” His touch was light and he purposely ignored her clit, wanting her to beg for it. Kat, his Kat, was so strong and assertive and he loved when she told him just how much she wanted him, just how much she needed him.

She kissed him again, rocking her hips against his hand as she tried to move his fingers to where she wanted them most. He bit her lower lip hard enough to make her whine and smirked as he releases it, “tell me where, sólnyshka.”

“Touch my clit, Andrei,” she whined. “Please.”

He hummed as he smirked and leaned back to give himself more room before he slipped his hand into the front of her shorts. He groaned at how wet she was, running his fingers over her slit before he rubbed soft, lazy circles on her clit. “Fuck, you are so wet for me.”

“Only for you, Andrei,” she moaned. He was the only man that could make her feel this good.

“I need to taste you,” he groaned as he circled his finger over her entrance. “Been too long since I’ve had my mouth on your sweet pussy; spent the whole roadie dreaming of your taste, Kisa.”

“Yeah?” She bit her lip, “you know what I want from you?”

“What, Kisa?” He hummed, just barely pressing his finger into her as he ate her alive with his eyes.

She leaned in, brushing her lips against his ear, her voice soft as honey, “I want you to cum inside me tonight.”

He froze and his jaw went slack as his cock throbbed. She didn’t— He had to have heard her wrong. Fuck the thought alone had him squeezing his eyes shut with a moan as he imagined how warm and wet and perfect she would be around his bare cock. “Kat,” his voice was broken. “You’re serious?”

“Very much so,” she whispered and pulled back to look at him, dragging her nails down the back of his neck. “I want to feel you, all of you. I want to feel you cum inside me, want you to fill me up till it leaks out,” her voice was soft as she twirled a piece of his hair between her fingers.

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbled in Russian before he kissed her deeply, tangling his fingers in her hair to pull her closer. “You feel what you do to me, Kisa? Feel how hard you make me?”

“Yes,” she breathed as she rocked against him. “Fuck, yes, I do.”

“Fuck, all I want is to sink into you and fuck you right now, feel your sweet perfect pussy around my cock. But no.” He had to taste her first and he pulled his hand from her shorts and lifted them to her mouth, brushing her wetness over her lips. She wrapped her lips around his fingers, her eyes fluttering shut as she sucked them clean. “Good girl,” he murmured before he kissed her deeply, licking the taste of her off her tongue.

She moaned into the kiss, rolling her hips against his, “take me to bed, Andrei.” He didn’t need to be told twice and he easily stood up, both hands on her ass as he carried her to bed to have his way with her.

“Oh—” Kat gasped when Andrei dropped her on the bed. He looked at her for half a second before he slipped his fingers into the band of her shorts and pulled them down her legs and he groaned when he finally got his eyes on her. It really had been too long.

His shirt was next to go and he tossed it aside before he knelt between her legs and pushed her shirt up. He was never going to get tired of just looking at her, she was so beautiful. His gaze alone makes her shiver in delight. He always made her feel wanted. His touch was gentle as he ran his hand up her calf. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured and kissed just above her knee.

“So are you, Andrei,” she said and she propped her head up a pillow so she could see him better.

He sucked a mark onto her inner thigh and smoothed it over with his tongue before he looked up at her, “you think I’m beautiful?”

“Beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, handsome,” she listed as she ran her fingers through his hair, and he was quick to kiss her inner wrist.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered in Russian and kissed her before she could question what he said. Her Russian was getting better, but some things would remain secret, even if she hated his little Russian secrets. “Should I give you another hatty?” He asked against her lips. “Make you nice and wet for my cock?”

“Whatever you want Andrei. I’m yours,” she replied and tried to pull him closer.

“Okay, Kisa,” he kissed her again before he began to trail his lips down her throat to her chest. He knew she didn’t like visible marks, but he left one about her collarbone before he trailed his tongue down her chest and around her nipple. “Fuck your breasts,” he groaned and playfully nipped at the soft flesh.

She let out a loud whine, “oh god.” He was so attentive and made her feel like she was on fire in the best way and when he looked up at her with those dark eyes she literally melted.

“Just me, Kisa,” he smirked and flattened his tongue over her nipple before he blew softly. “You should stop wearing clothes around the apartment.”

“But then I’d never get any work done,” her voice was breathy as she tried to laugh.

“Oh, I think we’d get plenty done,” he smirked and took her nipple between his lips and he used his fingers to give her other equal attention. His hands were so big they completely cover her breasts but he loved it, he loved every inch of her body from the beauty marks on her face, to the freckles on her chest, the dimples in her thighs, and scars on her knees. He loved every part of her. Every part of her was perfect and he was thankful to have any piece of her. He was always going to show her just how much he loved and appreciated her and he sucked gently on her nipple before he switched sides, ensuring they received equal attention.

“Fuck, Drei…” she moaned his name softly. She felt herself get even more wet as he worshipped her breasts.

He moaned against her skin, eyes closed as he focused, grinding his hips into the bed to get a little relief for himself. She made him so hard, she always had. He had been into her since day one, she drove him crazy in the best ways. But now that he had won her over, she felt the same. She couldn’t get enough of Andrei.

Slowly he pulled back and dragged the trip of his tongue down her stomach as he settled between her legs. He’d spend all day and night there if she let him. He blew over her clit and chuckled when she whined, “you are so wet for me.”

“Only for you,” she told him quickly. He was the only one who could get her worked up like this.

“Only me,” he repeated and bit her inner thigh hard enough to mark. His, he thought.

She gasped, but he soothed it over with his tongue before he eyed her pussy, the corner of his lips twitching up. He looked up at her and pursed his lips before he spat on it. She didn’t need it, she was wet enough, but he always loved the sound that left her mouth and the way she flushed when he spat on her pretty little pussy.

It was a half strangled gasp and half moan that left her lips and she arched her back as she reached down to thread her fingers through his hair. “Drei,” she moaned and tried to push his head down.

“Patience, Kisa,” he told her, looking up at her again as he slowly licked up her slit. She tossed her head back as she moaned loudly and she didn’t mean to, but her legs closed around his head as he circled the tip of his tongue around her clit.

It would be an honour to be suffocated by her, he thought, face buried against her pussy. Not a bad way to go at all.

She tugged his hair and reached behind her to grip the pillow, needing something more to hold onto. No one ate pussy like Andrei Svechnikov. No one.

His eyes closed as he focused on her clit and only on her clit, swirling his tongue around her bud as he sucked softly, driving her absolutely crazy before he dipped his head down to fuck her with his tongue, nose buried in her sweet cunt so the only thing he could taste and smell was her. It was obscene the things he could do with his mouth. And moaned against her like she was a meal sent from heaven just for him, enjoying it almost as much as she was.

She ground her hips against him and he only pulled her closer as he tried to bury his tongue deeper in her, his hands gripping her thighs, digging his fingers into her skin. Andrei loved to mark her up, loved to litter her skin with reminders of who made her feel good, who worshipped her body. He wanted everyone to know she was his, that he was hers.

It wasn’t like they weren’t so obviously together. Everyone knew she was his, but he just loved seeing the bruised road map of what he did to her the night before; he loved to retrace his lips over the marks the next day and remind her that he was the only one who could make her feel this good, and that no other man could or would.

Slowly he looked up at her, his brown eyes darker with lust. His cock was aching to be in her, but he wanted her to cum on his tongue first, needed her to cum on his tongue first. She was close, he could feel it as she fluttered around his tongue. “Oh, God, Andrei, please, baby,” she got out between broken moans.

He hummed against her and switched back to focusing on her clit, sucking as he traced the tip of his tongue over the bud just the way she liked. “Oh fuck— oh fuck.” Her moans got louder the closer she got until she came hard, her grip tightening on his hair as she rolled her hips against his mouth, moaning so loud it echoed in the room.

Andrei groaned as he felt her cum against him and he slowed his tongue to draw it out, his eyes closed in concentration. He truly would never get enough of her taste. He could drown in her cum and it wouldn’t be enough. When her grip loosened on his hair, he forced her legs wider and dipped his tongue down to gather her cum and he moaned louder at the sweet taste of her before he focused back on her clit. One wasn’t enough for him. One was never enough for Andrei, he needed at least three or maybe even four. He needed to have her shaking and pussy sensitive from his tongue.

“Jesus, fuck, Andrei,” she moaned and tried to close her legs out of sensitivity, but he was so much stronger than her and he pulled back as he forced her thighs open, a smirk playing on his cum coated lips before he pinched her clit between his fingers, making her squeal. “Oh fuck no— Ah—” was all she managed to get out because she was so sensitive and he knew how easily it would be to make her cum again.

“No?” He repeated and pinched her clit again with a smirk, his tongue darting out to lick over her cum coating his lips.

She gripped the sheets underneath her, so incredibly close and when he did it again, she came with a loud “fuck!”

He swallowed as he watched her and slowly rubbed her clit to draw her high out. “Again? So quickly? Oh, Kisa,” he hummed but he smirked as he watched her with hungry eyes.

Her thighs shook from the intensity of it and she bit her lip and whimpered, “so sensitive.”

“So soon?” He teased. He had only given her two and he knew she was capable of many, many more than that. Kat nodded, her skin flushed, but he wasn’t done with her, not yet, and he continued to softly rub her clit as he looked up at her.

She could feel her high building again from his lazy rubbing of her clit and she whined softly, her hips bucking into his hand. It was good, but she needed him to fuck her, needed him to fill her up.

“Andrei please,” she begged and he laughed against her thigh before he bit it again, leaving another mark in her soft perfect skin.

“Tell me what you need baby? Tell me what you want?” He knew exactly what she was after, but he wanted to hear her say it again.

“For you to fuck me,” she begged, lifting her hips. “I want to feel you.”

“Yeah? Want my cock in your tight little pussy, sólnyshka?” He bit the inside of her other thigh, happy to cover her in reminders of him.

Her voice caught in her throat before she nodded. It was a wonder she once considered herself to be a dominant before he ruined her. “I need your cock,” she told him breathlessly.

“And I need my hatty,” he hummed as he continued to rub her clit. Just as soon as she gave him another. She was so soft and wet under his touch and he quickened his fingers as he laid his other arm over her hips to keep her still.

She came with no warning, tugging his hair as she struggled against the arm over her hips as she clenched around nothing. “Please,” she whined as she rocked her hips up. “Want to feel your thick cock, Drei. Want to feel you cum and fill me up.”

He crawled back up to her, wrapping his hand around her throat, and he smirked as she arched into him, her eyes momentarily fluttering shut. “And you’ll get to feel it, you’ll get to feel all of me,” he told her and pressed his hips to hers as he kissed her deeply.

She moaned loudly into his mouth. It was the most she had ever felt him. He usually pulled back to get a condom, giving her but a moment of his cock resting against her, but not this time. This time it was a promise for what was the come and she hooked her leg around his hip and pulled him closer.

He rutted against her as he controlled the kiss. “Mine, all mine,” he muttered between kisses, his cock easily gliding between her folds.

“All yours,” she agreed and roughly gripped his shoulders, dragging her nails across his skin. “Andrei, please.”

“I got you baby, I got you.” He kissed Kat again before he sat up, wrapping his hand around his cock and he stroked himself a few times before he tapped his cock against her clit. “You ready?”

She nodded and reached down to cover his hand with hers to guide him to her entrance, fluttering at the feeling of his tip against her. He slowly pressed into her, his eyes rolling back as he swore in Russian. It was so much better than using a condom, she was so tight, warm, and wet and fuck—

He really had to think of something, anything, else because he’d cum too soon.

Her leg tightened around his hip and she moaned loudly as she fluttered around him. There was no barrier between them, just them, just him, buried deep inside her. Her nails dug into his shoulder as she tried to pull him closer. Even nothing between them wasn’t enough, she needed him closer.

He gripped her leg and hiked it over his hip to get himself deeper, moaning as she clenched around him and he started thrusting slow and deep, his eyes closed as he focused on the feeling of her alone.

“Yes, God yes,” she cried, her back arching as she closed her eyes. He filled her in the best ways, in the most indescribable ways.

“Fuck.” He could barely think of anything other than how good she felt around him. He muttered in Russian how good and perfect she was. She could only understand bits and pieces, but she opened her eyes and her pussy clenched at the sight of him. Andrei’s chest was flushed, his eyes squeezed shut, and his lips parted as he moaned, completely lost in the feeling of her. It was the hottest thing she had ever seen.

She couldn’t help but pull him closer and kiss him deeply, moaning into his mouth. “Feel so good, Drei,” she told him dreamily. “So fucking good.”

“Kisa, you feel like a fucking dream,” he groaned, kissing her again. He’d never tire of her lips.

She moaned in agreement and bit at his bottom lip. She loved how absolutely wrecked he is. “You gonna cum for me, Drei? Gonna cum in my pussy?”

“Not until you cum first,” he replied and bit at her bottom lip, watching as it slapped back against her. “I wanna feel you cum around my cock.”

She nodded and trailed her hand down to her clit but before she could touch herself, Andrei knocked her hand away to rub her clit, groaning as she clenched around him. He was so close and he bit his lip to control himself. She needed to cum first. He needed to know the feeling of her cumming on his cock.

“Come on, Kisa. I want you to cum, want to feel your pretty pussy cum around my cock. Want to see the bliss on your face and hear my name rolling off your tongue,” his voice was breathy as he thrusted harder, deeper.

Her nails dug deeper into his shoulders and he knew they’d leave a mark but he didn’t care, he loved it, loved when she got possessive over him enough to mark him. “Don’t stop,” she told him breathlessly. “Don’t fucking stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop, not gonna stop till you’re cumming around my cock and I’m filling you with my cum and—” he cut himself off with a bite of his tongue. For a brief moment he couldn’t help but think and knock you up.

His hips stuttered as he thought it, eyes momentarily dropping down her body. Kat could see it in his eyes and it sent her over the edge, her nails raking down his back as she came hard, her eyes rolling back with a long moan of his name.

Andrei squeezed his eyes shut and his hips stuttered as she clenched around him, her cum dripping down his balls, but he continued to fuck her through her orgasm. She will always cum first. Always.

She could feel her high start to roll into another and she dug her heel into his lower back to try to get him closer. “Fill me up, Drei,” she moaned, her voice breathless in his ear.

He leaned down and kissed her lazily, so close it only took a few more thrusts before his hips stuttered and he filled her up with his cum. He moaned loudly into her mouth and she hungrily swallowed it and she tried to pull him closer as she came again, moaning just as loud as she fluttered around him. She was so warm, so full, so good, he thought, and when he broke the kiss to rest his forehead on her shoulder, his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

Kat was gentle as she rubbed his shoulders. “God,” he groaned as he rested more of his weight on her.

“Feel good?” She laughed softly and gently ran her fingers through his hair.

“So good,” he agreed and he kisses her softly. “You’re so good.”

Kat smiled into the kiss, “you liked it a lot?”

He could only hum. He’d stay in her all night if she let him, but he didn’t want to crush her, so, as much as he didn’t want to, he gently pulled out, both of them wincing at the loss. “I loved it,” he told her.

She frowned at the loss of him and when he rolled onto his back, she rolled with him, pressing herself up against his thigh. “I did too,” she confessed.

“I think we’ll have to do it again… in about… ten minutes,” he grinned cheekily next to her.

“Ten minutes?” She bit her lip and lightly ran her nail down his chest, smirking as his muscles clenched under her touch. “You’re slacking. I thought one of the pros to dating younger was a fast rebound time.”

“Listen woman…” he gripped her chin and made her looks at him. “Your pussy is magic and sometimes it quite literally drains me away so maybe I need a few extra minutes.” Kat scrunched her nose up in disagreement, but it didn’t last long as he slid his hand down in between them, the tips of his fingers brushing her clit. “But that just means I have to pay you more attention in the meantime.”

Kat’s smirk fell as he brushed her clit with the tips of his rough finger. She was really sensitive and his fingers were big and rough and she instinctively rolled onto her back to give him more space, but he wasn’t after her clit. No, he shifted down till he was between her legs and he smirked as he looked up at her. His cum was leaking out of her. “Well we can’t have this…” he said before he scooped their cum on his fingers and pressed it back into her. “Gotta keep this inside you.”

Her breath caught in a gasp and she clenched around his fingers. He didn’t want her to waste his cum. And just when she thought he couldn’t get any hotter he proved her wrong as he licked his lips and he looked up at her, “can’t have it go to waste, right, Kisa?”

“No, we can’t,” she agreed and let her legs fall open more. She bit her lip as she watched him, “I wonder what it tastes like, your cum mixed with mine.”

He hummed and his gaze alone made her shiver. “Guess we have to find out,” he told her and he slowly pulled his fingers out and looked at her as he sucked his fingers clean. He moaned at the taste before he pressed them into her again and pulled them out and held them out to her. “How about you have a taste and be the judge.”

Kat hungrily took his fingers and her eyes closed as she licked them clean with a satisfied moan. “Tastes good right? You and me together?” He asked as he pulled his fingers from her mouth with a lewd pop and kissed her deeply, licking the taste of them from her mouth.

She moaned louder and pulled him flush against her. She could feel he was hardening again and she rolled her hips into his. “Very good,” she agreed.

“Yeah?” He asked as he took himself into his hand.

“So very good,” she repeated, holding his gaze and he guided himself into her again.

“The fucking best,” he agreed, his accent heavy. She moaned loudly, not caring if the neighbours heard through the window he left open. “I could spend the rest of my life buried in your sweet pussy,” he said softly in Russian. “You’re all I want; all I’ve ever wanted.”

He figured all she could pick up was maybe a few words, but he was wrong. She had been learning Russian, lessons stolen she could, and she understood every word he said. “You’re all I want, too,” she repeated back to him between thrusts and pulled him impossibly closer.

They were practically fused together, him buried so deep, and all he could smell was her, sweat and sex. He was more rocking into her than anything else, so close and intimate and she was so close again, so desperate to cum again. He was so deep, hitting her g-spot with every thrust. He was gonna fill her up again, make her cum.

“Drei,” she moaned as she clung to him. “My Drei.”

“Yours, Kisa, I’m yours,” he moaned, so close himself, but she had to cum first.

It only took a few more rock of his hips before she came again, moaning into his neck. It wasn’t as strong as her other highs, but it was still good, so intimate, and it was enough to send Andrei over the edge as well. He spilled into her with a loud moan of her name and filled her up with his cum. It was so good, so warm, and she didn’t think she could go back now that she had fully had him.

He let out a shaky breath and slowly rested his weight against her before he kissed her softly. “I love you so much,” he whispered against his lips.

“I love you more,” she whispered back.

He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Impossible,” he breathed and kissed her again before she could argue. She hummed against his lips. She’d let him have it this time. He certainly loved her longer, but she fell harder.

After a few moments of basking in the afterglow he pulled out, shushing her softly before he got up and headed to the bathroom to start a bath for the two of them to clean them up. “You good baby?” He asked when he came back, stroking her cheek.

“Very good,” she smiled sleepily at him as she leaned into his touch. “But I don’t think we’ll be needing any more condoms.”

He raised his eyebrows as he bent down and easily scooped her up in his arms, “yeah? No more condoms?”

“No more,” she hummed. “I don’t want anything between us anymore.”

He grinned as he sat her down on the edge of the tub. “I can get on board with that,” he said and quickly tested the water to make sure it was warm enough before he gently placed her in the water. He followed a moment later as he settled behind her. “I’ll throw the condoms out later.”

“Or you can just give it to the rookies,” she offered, making him laugh.

“Oh, Kisa, that’s generous. But none of them will be able to fit,” he laughed as he let his hand rest on her stomach.

She laughed with him. “An even better reason to give it to them,” she said as she looked over her shoulder at him. “Tell them they’re too small for you.”

He laughed louder as he nodded. She truly was the one for him. “I’ll toss them out like confetti.”

“You do that, big boy,” she smiled and rested her head back against his shoulder. She hummed when he kissed her cheek and he smiled to himself before he lathered a cloth up with Kat’s vanilla bodywash and began to wash her up. He was gentle as he ran the cloth over her; he was always so gentle, always cherishing her body, thankful for every time she let him touch her.

He started with her arms as he went up to her shoulders before he dipped under her arms and down her chest. He paid special attention to her chest as he washed her, and when he smiled at her whimper, she gave his chest a shove. His laugh made her chest warm and he held the cloth in his hand as he looked at her, so incredible in love with her.

Once they were both clean, he helped her out of the tub and wrapped her in a fluffy towel. They both brushed their teeth before they used the bathroom and Andrei helped Kat to bed, her towel forgotten on the floor in favour of his arms.

She could still feel his cum leaking out of her, but it only made her smile as she snuggled closer, a piece of him still buried inside her.

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x oc #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov smut #andrei svechnikov x reader #Carolina Hurricanes #carolina hurricanes imagine #canes imagine #when it gets crisp in the fall story #andrei and kat #mine #hockey #hockey rpf #hockey imagine #hockey smut #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl smut #canes

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melanieph321 · 5 months

Text

Ruben Dias x Reader - A House Is Not A Home Part 6/8

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

18+

Ruben's wife dies during childbirth along with their son. Ruben hasn't been in a relationship since. Y/N is a single mother to a four year old boy. She buys a house in the small town that Ruben lives in. The house needs alot of fixing which Ruben helps with, resulting in him slowly falling in love with Y/N. However, falling in love with Y/N makes Ruben feel like he is betraying his dead wife.

Enjoy!

"Where are you going?" Ruben groaned, his voice raspy as he came to. You both lay in bed well past the suitable hours. By the way the sun was set high in the sky you guessed that it was around midday afternoon.

"We have to get up and pick up Johnny from kindergarten."

"Five more minutes."

Ruben held an arm around your waist, tugging your body to lay down with him again. He rolled on top of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

"We don't have much time." You sighed, feeling him and how much his body wanted you.

"We have enough time."

Warm hands roamed your body. Ruben had already left bruises on your skin from last night and this morning, this was just him re-marking his territory. He traced soft kisses down your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. His big hand cupped your breast, squeezing the flesh as you sighed against his naked chest.

"You like this?"

"Mhm."

Ruben moved on to let his erection slap against your folds, lubricating them. You squinted your eyes as his dick continue to grind against your clit, making it twitch beneath you.

"Ruben...the time."

"We have enough of it ."

He turned you over with a slap across your ass. You winced and arched your back into the front of him, meeting his stiffness.

"Relax for me baby. Just relax."

The matress dipped as Ruben rose to his knees. You looked back to see his lean body align with yours. Ruben smiled before easing into you with a yanking thrust.

"Fuck."

You stood on all fours, withstanding the forces that you were up against. Your breast swayed beneath you as Ruben fucked you with intensity, admiring the waves of your flesh with every stroke of his hips. At one point he stopped, flipping you over to lay on your back again.

"I wanna see you enjoying me." He said, pinning your arms above your head, leaning down to kiss you as he fucked you missionary.

"Ruben, I'm close."

"Good. Come for me Y/N, come for me."

He had been holding out for you, waiting until the last moment so that the two of you could come together. Your bodies lay limb following the combined sigh of relief. Ruben lingered inside of you, allowing himself to go soft. You whimpered when he finally pulled out. The sensation left you feeling cold and sticky.

"Let's not keep Johnny waiting." Ruben got up and out of bed, helping you do the same.

Your son was happy to see you as always, however, it was Ruben he ran to for a hug at the gate.

"Ruweeen!"

"Hey little buddy. How was your day?"

Ruben carried Johnny back to his truck, holding your hand. The three of you had become a team as your relationship with Ruben evolved during the three months since moving in.

"Should we pick something up for dinner?" Ruben drove the truck past the town center.

"Pancakes!" Johnny exclaimed.

"No. We had that yesterday." You protested.

Johnny crumbled in his seat.

"Oh come on." Ruben leaned towards you, grabbing your hand, planting soft kisses on your knuckles. "You love my pancakes, don't you baby? I bet we still have some of Kat's leftover jam. You loved it didn't you, almost emptying the whole jar."

"I did not!"

Johnny chuckled in the backseat, so did Ruben. They were both laughing at you.

"Now baby, there is no shame in having a sweet tooth, but at least be honest about it."

You slapped Ruben in the arm. "I do not....have...a sweet tooth."

He played along, pretending to crumble with your hits.

"Alright, alright. I surrender." He laughed. "But if you don't have a sweet tooth that means you don't mind us having pancakes tonight."

You shook your head, hiding your smile. It was surprising, yet terrifying how willingly Ruben's charm made you fold.

"Did you hear that J, pancakes it is!"

"Yay!"

You gave Ruben a look, a look saying that he was definitely paying for this later. By the look he gave you, Ruben seemed glad having to serve you this favor.

"I just need to pick up a few things from work."

Ruben parked his truck outside of the hardware shop. Whilst he took his time, you and Johnny decided to stretch your legs, running over to watch the ducks in the pond across the street. As you held Johnny, pointing out the female ducks opposed to the male ducks, you felt it, content. For the first time in your life you felt happy, stable and loved, all at the same time. It was an overwhelming feeling, one you dread ever loosing. That was about to change though, as you turned your head to check on how Ruben was doing. He had been loading boxes onto the back of his truck but now stood beside it, chatting vividly with a woman.

"Come on Johnny, let's go back."

It was the woman embracing Ruben that made you curious to know who she was.

"Ruben?"

He hadn't noticed you approaching and flinched at the sound of your voice.

"Y/N...sorry to keep you guys waiting."

The woman cocked her head curiously.

"Y/N this is Emily, Emily this is....is..."

"Y/N?" You frowned. Johnny chuckled in your arms. The repeating of names was confusing him.

"Right....Y/N." He mumbled. "Either way... Em, how are you? What brings you here, back in town?"

You felt set aside as Ruben and the woman picked up their conversation where it left off.

"Tomorrow is the 25th Ruben." The woman said, a serious expression coming across her face.

"Right." Ruben nodded. "The 25th..."

"You haven't forgotten, have you?"

"Of course not." Ruben looked slightly insulted. "I've just been busy, that's all."

"Busy doing what?"

You raised a brow as the woman looked to you, her expression nothing but friendly. You turned to Ruben. "What's on the 25th?"

"Um....it's...um..." He scratched the back of his head, struggling to give you an answer.

"It's my sister's birthday." The woman frowned. "Who is she Ruben?"

"Em, let's not do this here..." Ruben was quick to defend you, however you were just about to defend yourself if it hadn't been for Johnny. Ruben took the woman aside as she became visibly upset. He returned to you with a look of uncertainty.

"Ruben what is going on, who is that woman?"

"I....um...I'll explain later. I'm gonna drive Em to Kat and David's, okay. See you back at the house?"

"Your leaving?"

"No, I'll be right back, I promise."

You couldn't believe it.

"Y/N, don't be upset." Ruben rushed to kiss your cheek. "I'll explain everything back at the house, okay?

You nodded. "Okay " And with that Ruben was gone, leaving you for another woman.

Hours went by. Despite no sight of Ruben you had to get started on dinner for your son to be able to go to bed on time.

"Where is Ruwen?" He asked as the pancakes you made tasted nothing like Ruben's.

"I don't know honey." You tucked Johnny into bed. "I'm sure you'll see him in the morning."

There was a painful jab in your stomach as you turned the lights off and slipped out of his bedroom. Coming downstairs you saw the light from Ruben's truck pull up to the house.

"I'm so sorry I'm late." Ruben stumbled through the door, looking around himself to see that most lights were turned off, that you were preparing to go to bed.

"Don't apologize to me." You said. "Johnny is the one who's been waiting for you." You felt guilty, using your son against Ruben this way. The two of you weren't married and he had no obligations as a stepfather, meaning Ruben should feel free to leave the two of you anytime.

"Is he still up?" Ruben looked to the staircase.

"I just put him to bed." Your arms folded. "What happened today Ruben, who was that woman you were talking to?"

He sighed heavily, removing his jacket before stepping into the house. At least he was here to stay. That feeling comforted you somehow.

"Please." He said, gesturing for you to join him on the living room couch. He wrapped an arm around you, pullimg you close. Your head rested against his chest.

"Emily is Gina's sister." He said, after a moment spent in silence. "She's back here for the anniversary of Gina's birthday on November...

"....25th." You nodded.

"Exactly. I can't believe I forgot about it."

"What made you forget?" You tilted your head to look at him. Ruben smiled softly, his finger stroking your cheek. "I dunno." He shrugged. "Maybe the fact that Kat and David are doing better these days. I was a mess three months ago during the anniversary of Gina's...." Ruben struggled to get the words out. You kissed his forearm as to say that it was okay, you understood.

"It was bad timing, just ahead of the storm, if you remember." He said.

Why would you remember?

"For some reason I decided to drink to cope with my feelings. I was passed out drunk by the time the storm came around. Kat and David seemed so understanding, never judging me, or worse, blaming me for the death of their daughter."

"Because it wasn't your fault Ruben." You said, with all seriousness. You had no idea that Ruben blamed himself for the tragic events of his wife.

"But it was." He sniffled. "I put that baby in her, I killed her."

You sat up. "Ruben, neither you or your son was the blame of what happened to your wife. No one is to blame. Gina was sick and she knew that, she knew there was a risk to everything she did. Do you know how many people would've dread living a normal life knowing it could end any day? Gina, however, was brave enough to want to get up in the morning, brave enough to fall in love, to commit. She was brave enough to want a house and a family."

Ruben looked at you with admiration, clearly he hadn't allowed himself to think of things this way. Perhaps he felt like he had to feel guilty as not to betray his dead wife and the memories that they shared.

"She was braver than all of us Ruben." You assured.

He slowly nodded his head, as if accepting your way of seeing things. Then he said something that startled you.

"I never knew I would find someone again...."

You batted your eyes as he looked intensely at you. "I never thought I'd feel the way I did about Gina again, until I met you."

"Ruben." Your voice trembled.

"You met me at my lowest." He chuckled.

What was so funny?

"I don't even think you rember meeting me then, in the bar, that night of the storm?"

You frowned as no memory came to mind.

"Either way, that day change my life for the better. You changed my life for the better."

You threw your leg over Ruben's thigh, climbing to sit on his lap. Ruben's hands went to rest on your waist, keeping you steady. You knocked your forhead against his as he tilted his head up to meet your lips. The kiss was tender and longing. Ruben's shoulders dropped as he allowed himself to relax. He then wrestled you to lay beneath him on the couch, spreading your legs with a knee between your thighs. He smirked. "I owe you, don't I?"

You thought back to earlier today. "Yes you do, you owe me." You smiled.

Ruben traced kisses from the lobe of your ear down to the center of your stomach. He folded your shirt on the go as to expose more skin for him to trace kisses upon.

You bit you lip as not to make any noise. Johnny was still asleep upstairs. You popped up on your elbows to see why Ruben had stopped what he was doing.

"What?"

He was looking up at you, his expression difficult to read. You sat up, crawling towards him. "Ruben are you..."

"I love you Y/N."

He said it so fast that you had to catch your breath.

"What?"

He nodded. "I love you Y/N, more than anything."

It was as clear as day, your feelings for Ruben, you loved him too. Terrifying to admit, considering you've only know each other for three months. The best three months of your life. You thought of Gina however, to her it had been clear, she never had any doubt....

"I love you too Ruben."

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