#nails could be shoved into my skin softer

[socaito]

Bastard Baby

Cars cling to the cement sometimes if you listen close. They screech and sneer at eachother. Scream against the echoes of their own tires racing into infinity. I'd run out of gas if you drove me, you'd forget to fill me up. Mommy won't pay for your gas anymore after this. I'll make sure you can never tell me another lie. I'm more than a man you could ever be, I've built whole kingdoms without your help. To spite your sloth, and that soft pink pout.

[pin-k-ink]

pent up // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ semi public sex, biting, marking, nipple play, dirty talk, established relationship, unprotected sex, begging, fingering, mention of male masturbation

wc ⇢ 1.2k

a/n: not satisfied with this one either…and i keep forgetting that this guy has a kansai dialect

The lab was cloaked in near total darkness, save for the bluish glow of the monitors humming in standby mode. You suppressed a yawn as you entered the data from today's latest round of kaiju cell analyses, the rhythmic clacking of keys filling the stillness.

At least these late night sessions afforded you some peace and privacy to focus without distractions. With the spike in kaiju activity lately, you'd been logging far too many long hours bent over these microscopes and petri dishes--

"Well, well...what do we have here?"

You jolted ramrod straight at the teasing baritone that seemed to resonate directly against the back of your neck. Before you could whirl around, a pair of corded, muscular arms snaked around your midsection from behind, anchoring you against a powerful, chiseled chest as hot lips ghosted over the racing pulse at your throat.

"Working late again without me, baby?" Soshiro growled in a voice dripping with playful accusation. "You know how I hate being left out like this..."

Your breath hitched at the delicious vibrations thrumming against your nape with each rasping word. He plastered himself fully along your backside - every rigid, defined plane molding against your softer curves so deliciously you nearly whimpered. The rigid outline of his rapidly swelling cock nudged insistently against your ass, leaving no doubt as to his state of riled desire.

"S-Soshiro!" you exhaled shakily. "I thought you were still out in the field--"

"Mmmm, got done sooner than expected," he rumbled in smug contentment, nuzzling deeper into your hairline to pepper kisses there. "Lucky me too, otherwise I might've missed the chance to catch my gorgeous girlfriend working late all alone...again..."

He punctuated the accusation by rolling his hips forward in a slithery, teasing grind that sent liquid fire pooling between your thighs instantly. You gasped at the blatant lust riding his every motion, hands flying up to grip his corded forearms reflexively as need swamped through your veins.

"Fuck, I've been so goddamn worked up without you around," Soshiro groaned against the slick skin beneath your jaw, fangs grazing there in stinging little nips. "Jerking off twice a day just thinking about burying myself in this perfect body until you're a goddamn mess..."

He reached up to shove your sweater and shirt aside with impatient motions, dragging the soft cup of your bra down to bare one breast to the open air. You shuddered violently as cool oxygen seared your inflamed skin - nipple tightening into a rigid point that Soshiro wasted no time lavishing with rough swipes of his tongue.

"Nngh, 'Shiro! We c-can't..." you tried in a broken whimper, even as your spine arched wantonly into the scorching heat of his mouth. "Not here, someone could--"

"So what?" he growled against your saliva-slick flesh, sucking a lurid mark into the tender swell hungrily. "Let them finally see how crazy you make me after being denied for weeks...hear how pretty you sound when I fuck you like my life depends on it..."

His hand found the waistband of your slacks in the same breath, dipping past the lacy barrier of your panties to swipe his knuckles over your dripping entrance with devastating bluntness. An inarticulate noise punched itself from your throat in stunned rapture at the glide of his calloused fingers seeking out your swollen clit.

"God, you're so fucking soaked already," Soshiro snarled in husky approval. "Told you how much I've been thinking about devouring this perfect little pussy of yours, didn't I?"

You cried out shamelessly, nails scoring down his forearms as he speared two thick digits past your fluttering folds to the last knuckle. His thumb found your aching clit, thrumming tight little circles that shattered your vision in white nova bursts.

"So good for me, opening up so beautifully," he praised roughly against the corner of your slack mouth, teeth scoring your earlobe in a stinging burn. "Like your greedy little cunt was made to milk me dry again and again..."

Distantly, you registered the sounds of him shucking his pants off behind you with frantic motions, the heavy line of fat cock finally springing free. You rolled your hips in mindless desperation, chasing the delicious friction of his thrusting fingers urgently.

"Yes, yesss, Soshiro!" you babbled around a helpless stream of sobs and moans. "Please, I need...need you to..."

"Shhh, baby...I've got you," he growled with dark reassurance in your ear, swollen cockhead finding your entrance with precision guidance.

You keened at the thick stretch and glorious impalement as he hilted himself to the root in one smooth, fluid roll of his hips. Behind you, Soshiro released a ragged sound of bliss, hot breath fanning over your nape as he savored the velvet heat enveloping his aching cock at last.

"Fuuuuck...baby, you feel so goddamn tight, squeezing me so fucking perfectly..."

You could only whimper and rut back against his bulk needfully in response - utterly overwhelmed by the sheer size and weight of him buried so profoundly. The slick noises of his withdrawal teased obscene symphonies in the quiet lab, only for his girthy thrust home to pummel the breath from your lungs anew in rapture.

Over and over, he ground into your convulsing walls at a ruthless, relentless cadence - every snap of his lean hips punctuated by rough groans and fevered praises filtering against your sweat-slick skin. The unyielding suction of his chest to your back anchored you in sublime torment, his hands possessively palming and groping every lush curve as he staked his dominion.

"Just like that, sweetheart," Soshiro growled in your ear as his pounding rhythm punched guttural noises from the depths of your being. "Hold those gorgeous tits for me while I ruin that tight cunt, fuck...taking me so fucking deep, squeezing so tight..."

His sharp canines found the fevered juncture of your neck and shoulder in an implacable bite, the fiery sting only amplifying the maddening friction splitting you apart from root to core. In the same breath, he latched one calloused hand around your throat - not squeezing, just a heavy grounding vice as he pistoned deeper.

You bucked back onto him, relishing the addictive drag of his veiny cock along your rippling walls. Every gasping moan and keen shattered against the sterile air surrounding you both, as if to defy the pristine silence entirely in favor of hedonistic ruin at last.

Soshiro railed into you with gradually increasing savagery, fingers bruising at your hip and throat as his climax mounted insurmountably. Something molten and feverish kindled to rapturous life behind your fluttering lids. Finally...

"Mine..." he snarled through gritted teeth, teeth scoring your nape and back arching as release crested. "Say it, [Y/N]...you're fucking mine, only ever fucking mine..."

"Yours!" you howled unintelligibly, every nerve ending splintering into infinite fragments of ecstasy at his brutal claiming. "Always yours, Soshiro, oh fuck...!"

Your shared shouts splintered to hoarse shrieks of blissful rapture as his shaft pounded home in one final, bestial thrust. Thick, creamy cum flooded your convulsing pussy torridly as Soshiro threw back his head and roared your name - muscles corded in stark relief while his climax milked out in pulse after pulse of abandon.

Your juices gushed freely around his iron length, spasming through soaring peaks and crashing falls of blinding intensity until exhaustion finally bled into a twilight half-consciousness. Dimly, you felt his slick, softening cock withdrawing, only to be gathered up and cradled in strong arms as you drifted on the ebbing tide of aftershocks.

[mrdixon]

starvin'

pairing: established daryl x f!reader

wc: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ content, oral (fem. receiving), nipple play?, fingering

summary: daryl is STARVING

A/N: my apology for not uploading chapter two of a rugged muse. def not proofread sorry!

masterlist

Who knew babysitting would take it out on you? You fought walkers to survive and yet a 4 month old baby made you feel 6 times tired. Your feet dragged on the hardwood floor of your home, your fluffy socks making it sound soft.

Your eyes were halfway closed as you walked up the stairs, rubbing your eyes to make sure you didn't pass out and fall down the stairs. It’d be a shame to die like that. Your shoulders drooped once you got to the top of the staircase, panting a little despite the short distance of stairs you travelled up.

Your bedroom door opened with a squeak, surely you’d ask Daryl to fix that for you. You were quite pleased finding your boyfriend already in bed waiting for you, his eyes immediately finding yours.

“Yer home,” he mumbled. You practically melted at the sight of him, quickly trudging over with heavy feet and mustering up the rest of your energy to jump onto him. Your face landed on his chest and he jolted, grunting a bit as he shifted underneath you trying to find a comfortable position. “Ya tired?” He asked, running his fingers through your hair soothingly. You hummed in response, closing your eyes while your arms came up to rest by your face, his own moving to wrap around your back.

“I knew babies were high maintenance but shit, they really fuckin’ are.” You grumbled, nuzzling your face into his neck. He let out a raspy chuckle, kissing the top of your head.

“Yeah they are, ya still wan’ one?” He teased to which you squirmed in retaliation. He sighed softly, his fingertips moving up and down your back. The gesture made you shiver, those rough hands touched you so softly, so gently. “I’d give ya one if ya asked y’know,” he murmured, squeezing your waist with one hand. You knew he would.

You didn't respond, falling drowsy as your breathing turned softer. His hands continued to caress you, slipping under your shirt and tracing shapes into the small of your back. His nails tickling little hearts onto your skin, your own heart fluttering at his tenderness. He lowered his head to press a hard, but gentle kiss to your cheekbone. Your body lay still on top of him, letting him do whatever he wanted to you.

His hand travelled up your sides, leaving a small tickling sensation and you struggled to stifle a giggle.

“Ya like tha’?” He whispered into your ear, his breath hot and had the slightest tinge of lust in his tone. You swallowed, eyes still closed as you pretended to not notice. He hummed, rubbing the curve of your breast with his thumb before bringing his hand closer to your front. His hand rested on the neckline of your shirt, tapping lightly at the protruding fabric where your collarbones were. “Can I?”

You knew where this was going, so you nodded. He slipped his hand into your shirt from the neck, cupping your breast over your bra. You breathed a little heavier, the exhale coming out a little shaky as you moved a little. His thumb rubbed a little back and forth before his fingers slipped under the cup and onto your breast. He squeezed gently, rubbing his index over your nipple. Your breath hitched, shoving your face into his neck. He deemed your reaction not good enough and pinched the pebbled nipple, eliciting a small noise of a whimper from your mouth.

“Daryl.” You muttered, your face heating up immediately. He said nothing, continuing his attack on your breasts. His hand groped at you, squeezing your breast while simultaneously bringing his other hand into your shirt. The feeling of both his hands teasing your nipples send a wave of heat into your lower region, he could even hear you gulp in anticipation. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, looking into his eyes. He helped you pull off your shirt and toss it onto the bed, kissing along your collarbones before slipping your bra straps off your shoulders. You let out a quiet moan once he unclipped the bra, licking his lips as he saw the two perfect mounds of soft flesh. He had that stupid cocky smirk on his face, tilting his head taunting as he squeezed your breasts.

“Wha’? Ya don’ like wha’ ‘m doin’?” He flicked his tongue against the inside of his cheek, watching your eyelids flutter when he gently brushed over the sensitive nub. You bit your lip hard, tasting the metallic tang of your blood as you closed your eyes and hung your head forwards. Daryl huffed at the strands of your hair falling onto his face and obscuring his vision. One hand left your breast, the warmth replacing with cold air as he held your hair back. He grumbled something before pulling you down and kissing you softly, and then shoving you off of him.

“Hey— What are you doing?” You pouted, laying on your side and watched him get up.

“’m hungry,” he muttered while rolling up his sleeves.

“Right now…?” You questioned, looking down at your half naked body. Daryl didn't respond so you sighed, sitting up and grabbing your shirt before he suddenly pushed you back down. You let out a small sound of protest when he pulled your pants and panties down, throwing them over his shoulder to where they discarded on the floor of your bedroom floor. Your eyes widened once you realized what was happening. “Wait babe, I didn't shower yet.”

“I dun’ care,” he grunted, his palms flat against your knees while he pushed them apart. “I said I was hungry, ‘m practically starvin’.” You watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips, his eyes set on your pussy. You let the sole of your feet lay flat on the bed, your legs held up. Daryl smirked down at you, tracing a calloused fingertip along the inside of your thigh, relishing in the way you squirmed under his touch. He waddled around on the bed on his knees until he was in front of you, placing his palms flat on the bed on either side of your hips, lowering himself closer.

He let out a soft grunt as he maneuvered himself so he was laying on his stomach, his hands curving from the sides of your thighs to the tops of them. The backs of your thighs rested on his shoulders while he held you in place, and kissed along your stomach. You let out a quiet whine when you felt his stubble tickle you, sliding your fingers into his hair and tugging at the dark strands. Though his eyes were closed, he knew every spot that made you squirm. His lips moved with practiced skill, gliding along your soft skin, his fingers tracing up and down your thighs. Your breath hitched when he pulled back and blew on your soft cunt, watching as his eyes dilate after seeing your pussy pulse at the gesture.

Just when you thought he was gonna dive in, he hesitated. Instead, Daryl decided he wanted to tease you more, turning his head to kiss your inner thighs. Your legs closed around his head instinctively to which he bit your flesh gently, his eyes darted to the side to look up at you. His large hands encased around your soft thighs and pulled them apart once again, continuing to pepper kissed along the inner parts on your thighs, using his tongue to lick swirls into them. A whiney sigh escaped your mouth, dragging your fingers through his hair which made him groan and look up at you through his lashes. The sight made you close your legs around his head again, but this time he allowed it. His eyes were narrowed from the angle, his hair messy around his face and covered part of his eyes while his lips remained parted. You bit your lip, brushing his hair out of his face. Your thumb rubbed against his cheek, and his eyes fluttered shut.

“Daryl…” you whispered, “I love you.”

“Mmh, love ya too.” He muttered before tilting his head down and placing a kiss onto your wet folds. A small gasp left your mouth while your fingers harshly pulled at his hair. He growled against your pussy, pressing his lips dangerously close to your clit but purposefully avoiding it. You whined as he surrounded the area around your clit with kisses, his fingers pinching the outsides of your thighs. You twisted his hair in your fingers once more, his eyes glaring up at you which didn’t help the aching heat between your legs. He kept his eyes locked with yours as he pulled your thighs away from his head, spreading you open for him. He didn’t look away as his tongue darted out, dipping his head to lick a stripe up from your entrance to your clit, swirling around the bundle of nerves before pulling back. You whimpered, wanting to close your legs but he held you open while the corner of his lips curled a little at your reaction.

“Ya so taste good, beautiful.” He murmured before finally looking down at your pussy, breathing in before lowering his head once again. You sharply inhaled when his tongue made contact with your clit, his stubble pleasantly scratching at your pussy. A moan ripped itself from your throat when he sucked around the sensitive nerves, making you pull his locks. His eyes were closed while he devoured you, his tongue flattening and sinking into your folds. Your back arched as you moaned, feeling him smirk as he plunged his tongue deeper into your folds. The wet muscle circled around your entrance, dipping in a little to tease you before finally moving into you.

His eyes looked up at you again, but you were far gone in pleasure to even notice. Your head was back against the pillows, eyes rolled back, and lips parted to let out those pretty noises of pleasure Daryl strived to make you do. He pulled back to flick his tongue hastily around your clit, feeling his dick throb at the sounds of your wails. A hand left your thigh so he could adjust himself in his pants, groaning against your pussy which sent vibrations of pleasure up your body. He pressed his face into your pussy, his tongue moved rapidly through your folds, his nose rubbing against your clit.

“Oh fuck! Daryl!” You cried, curling your fingers into his already tangled hair. He growled against your weeping pussy, rubbing his face into you. The feeling of his warm breath against you made your toes curl, your thighs shaking as you tried to close them in around his head. His hands moved under your knees, pushing your thighs up to your chest while he continued to devour you. Your whines and cries of pleasure didn’t go unnoticed by him, his tongue lapping at your clit. Your legs shook in painful bliss from the overstimulation of your clit, his grip on your thighs tight as he held them against your body. You tried thrashing around, the buildup of your orgasm rapidly approaching.

His lips wrapped around your clit while his hand dragged down to dip into your wetness, pumping two fingers into you. Now that, drove you crazy. The feeling of his fingers driving in and out of you, coupled by his lips sucking on your sensitive nub made you close to coming on his face. Then his other hand left your legs, giving you the freedom to wrap them around his head while you pulled his hair.

Then you felt it, his free hand tickled up your body and over to your breast. So now there were three components contributing to your pleasure, his mouth around your clit, two fingers in your pussy, and now a hand playing and teasing your breasts. You felt your vision go blurry, and then black. Seeing the stars while you let out a loud cry of ecstasy, coming right there. His fingers pulled out of you but eventually joined his other hand up at your tits.

The vision of you was something Daryl loved to see every time he got you like this. Your head was thrown back against the pillow while your hair framed your head perfectly, eyes rolled back and eventually shut, your skin flushed a light hue of pink with little droplets of sweat, and finally your lips parted. The little unintentional sighs and whines from those lips that he had to strain to hear were his favourite thing to hear. He knew just how much power he held over you.

You came back to your senses, lifting your head off the pillow to look down at him. Shivering to see he was already looking at you, his pupils blown wide with lust as he slurped up all the remnants of your pleasure. You gently pushed his hair out of his face, and whimpered when he pressed one last kiss to your clit and took his hands away from your body before sitting up on his knees. He watched your blissed out expression with a lustful expression of his own, licking his lips and then wiping the rest of your nectar with his arm.

“That good fer ya baby?” He whispered, leaning over you to press a sweet, gentle kiss against your lips. You practically sobbed against his lips, feeling him chuckle against yours before pulling back to kiss your jaw. “I’ll take tha’ as a yes. You were delicious,” he growled against your ear before biting your earlobe. You bit your lip to spare yourself any embarrassment from any noise that threatened to leave your mouth at that moment, closing your eyes as you lay there in your post-coital bliss.

You felt him move away from over you, the weight in the bed shifting to next to you. You heard the sound of his belt unbuckle before the sound of his pants shuffled down. Once you finally opened your eyes, you turned to your right to see him hovering next to you. His cock rock-hard in his hand as he guided it to your lips, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips.

“Hungry?”

[chronicdisasterwrites]

for you, i would

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru (gojo’s past arc)

genre + warnings: - JJK S2 SPOILERSSS !! deaths (obvi), panic attack, funeral mentioned, smoking, just major pain. everybody's just hella depressed, swears are said, shifts between past and present (italics is past, normal is present moment), the slow burn is KILLING ME

ANGST but then it's FLUFFY :') bittersweet fluff tho (i'm sorry)

word count: 3,953

authors note: okay you asked, i hope i delivered omg :') this is the part 2 of my fic "death is pretty but his eyes are prettier". this might just be a series, because I have some ideas.

enjoyyy <3

Suguru’s gone. He’s now exiled from Jujutsu High and a certified criminal. Shoko’s putting on a nonchalant show and Satoru is lost. And you are not quite sure how to process so much information all at once. 

---

It's been a few days since your encounter with the special grade curse. A few days since you and Satoru had that moment in the hall. Days have passed since then, but your mind still seems to be stuck there, wondering why it felt so different. Since then, every time you've been near Satoru felt different. His looks looked different, his voice sounded different, his aura felt different. You felt different, and you're not sure what changed. Now you were being sent off to another assignment and Satoru was being sent off on a different assignment, and this distance could either make things a good different or a bad different. Now, what you think would be a good different is a thought you don't even want to ponder.

“Hey, you.”

Satoru moves his eyes from the window to acknowledge you. You're leaning against the classroom door with a backpack slung over your shoulder and a smile on your face. A smile that Satoru returns tenfold.

“Hey there. You start missin’ me already?”

You snort with a laugh and walk toward him. Leaning on the desk next to where he was sitting, you lightly shove his head, “Absolutely not.”

He laughs heartily and leans forward on his chair, resting his head on the palm of his hand. He's looking at you through his ever-present dark sunglasses with a dopey smile, and this is exactly what makes your stupid heart flutter, and you just don't understand why. You smile back but it doesn't stay on your face for long enough. Satoru notices of course and similarly his smile is also wiped from his face and replaced with a quizzical quirk of his brows.

“You’re worried. Question is, why?”

You shrug and bring your hand up to bite the skin around your nails, a bad habit you've had since you were a child. Something you've always done to avoid answering unwanted questions or just to avoid the storm in your mind. Satoru sighs and lightly holds your wrist to move it away from your face. He holds your hand and assesses every finger, slowly tracing the lines on your palm with his slender fingers, then your bitten nails, then the veins on your inner wrist. You blush.

“I don't know, this mission just feels different, I guess. I mean…” You look out the window and observe the blue sky with its fluffy white clouds. There's a black rogue cloud creeping up on the clear ones, and you sense a storm coming. You know Satoru and Suguru are strong and they're perfect for this job. But of course you’ll worry, and your voice does nothing to hide that, not that you could even if you tried. Not with Satoru, anyways.

“It’s just a lot for anyone, y’know?”

Satoru looks up from your hand and with soft eyes and an even softer smile he says, “Sure, but nothing we can't handle. And anyways,” His smile gets cheekier and cheeks get warmer, “I gotta come back soon, right? Can't have you bein’ all sad and mopey without me.”

You laugh and shove your hands in your pockets, turning to leave the room when Satoru calls your name.

“Be careful on your mission. I'll see you soon, yeah?”

You look back and smile, “Yeah, you too.”

—-

“So I heard you losers are tasked with babysitting the star plasma vessel? Amanai, was it?” You find Suguru smoking on the balcony near the courtyard on campus. He cranes his neck to look back at you and gives you a small smile.

Blowing out a puff of smoke, Suguru offers you his half-smoked cigarette. You accept it and bring it to your lips as you take your place next to him. 

“Yeah. Riko Amanai. I thought you had a mission outside Tokyo?” Suguru asks head tilted as he leans against the wooden railing. 

“Yeah in a bit. Wanted to catch you before I leave. I already met Satoru,” you reply as you blow out smoke through your nose and return the remaining cigarette to him. He hums and holds the cig between his index finger and thumb as he puffs it twice before stubbing it out in the ashtray half filled with cigarette butts. 

You both stare ahead at the courtyard, basking in the shared silence. You think about the responsibility on their shoulders and how heavy it must be; considering the star plasma vessel is just a few years younger than the four of you. Being raised with only one obligation; to be preserved and grow in isolation for the rest of her years. It isn’t something anyone would want. But that’s Riko Amanai’s life. 

“Stop worrying,” Suguru looks at you with an easygoing smile. 

You are always amazed at how well he could read you. So you just laugh and pat his back twice before turning to leave. 

“Just be careful, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

---

You’re lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling; paralyzed. Things went to shit so fast. Riko had been killed by a man called Toji Zenin or Fushiguro; at this point, you’re not sure. You’ve heard him be called both Zenin and Fushiguro. But nothing had been the same. Suguru was different. Satoru was now the strongest and being sent on more and more solo missions overseas, and back then, you felt in your bones that something was wrong. Everything was wrong anyways. Riko Amanai didn’t deserve the life she got. She didn’t deserve to die like that. And you know Satoru and Suguru. They were headstrong and stubborn; doing things their own way regardless of what anyone said. They were the strongest, after all. So you knew things were worse than they seemed because you know for a fact that if Riko chose to live, they would do whatever it took to make her wish come true. And you were right. 

---

Your mission was more or less a success. A dead curse and a few bruises here and there is the best outcome any Jujutsu sorcerer can hope for. But the air in Jujutsu High felt different. Thicker, darker, and not at all the way it was when you left it. Figuring Satoru and Suguru’s mission regarding the star plasma vessel should be complete, you head out to look for them. Heading towards the guy's dorms, it doesn’t take long before you find the hunched-over figure with jet-black hair sitting on the benches near the vending machines. 

You approach him with a soft call of his name. Suguru lifts his head to look at you as he mutters your name with a greeting. He looks awful. He looks skinnier and his hair is mostly wet as if he didn’t even bother to dry it off completely after taking a shower. Dark eyebags and half-lidded eyes make him look so much older than he is. Ironically, he looks smaller too. As if the life had been sucked right out of him.

You move forward slowly taking a seat next to him. You lean back and stretch out your legs and wait for him to say something, anything. Preferably about the mission and why he looks so fucked up. But he just asks about your mission.

You reply with a shrug, “It was fine.”

He nods his head as you wait for him to say more. He doesn’t.

“Suguru…what happened?”

He looks detached, lost. He purses his lips and fiddles with his thumbs. “Riko was killed.”

You don’t know what to say. So you don’t say anything at all. 

“You know, she wanted to live. Satoru and I decided that we’d support any decision she’d make. She wanted to live longer with her friends, and her family. But then-“ he chokes up. Trying to mask it with a cough he just shrugs and exhales. He lets his head hang low.

“They were clapping,” he clenches his fists and you feel his cursed energy spike. 

You don’t know what he means by that. You’re in shock and you have no idea what to say. What can you possibly say to make any of this better? Apologizing seems ridiculous. Saying “she deserved better” is even stupider. Of course, he knows she deserved better. You reach out your hand to touch him before he speaks again.

“I was wrong. These people. These monkeys… they don’t deserve to be protected.”

He looks at your outreached hand and gives a half smile. He unclenches his fists to hold your hand in his larger ones. He caresses your knuckles as you say the only thing that you feel.

“You’re right. They don’t deserve to be protected.”

Suguru looks at you with eyes filled with curiosity and surprise as if he expected you to say the opposite.

You look at his hands holding yours, squeezing his hand once as you continue. 

“But then, there are also people like Riko, who do deserve to be protected, right?”

His eyes widen and his hand slacks as he stares at you. Right when he opens his mouth to say something, Haibara’s boisterous voice fills the room. He greets the both of you and you smile back as you retract your hand from Suguru’s and stand to leave. 

Suguru calls your name and you look at him. You feel so bad for him, you can’t express it. It’s tearing your heart out seeing him look so depressed, so utterly destroyed. You reach out and brush your knuckles against his cheek. He closes his eyes and releases a sigh. Leaving featherlight touches against the darkness under his eyes, you say softly, “It wasn’t your fault, Suguru. I hope you know that.”

His eyes shut and you can almost hear the torrential thoughts flooding his brain. Your voice is hushed. You want to be as gentle as possible with the way you speak to him now. He’s like a glass bottle filled with a corrosive, bubbling liquid. It must be handled with the utmost care because the only thing containing the liquid is the bottle. If the bottle breaks, the liquid will spill everywhere. Even if it’s collected from the ground and stored in a tougher container, the microscopic glass shards will be near impossible to separate from the liquid itself. Geto Suguru, is a strong man. But even the strongest material is bound to break; if a stronger force acts upon it, continuously, without giving it time to heal and repair. And once broken, Geto Suguru will always have those shards lodged inside his soul.

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

He looks at you with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. You drop your hand as you turn to leave him with Haibara. “I’ll see you, Suguru. Best of luck on your mission, Haibara.” 

Haibara gives you a bright smile with eyes turned into little moons. “Thank you senpai! I’ll bring back souvenirs for you all!” 

You return his smile and send him a thanks and a wave as you look at Suguru, gaze not being reciprocated. You only see his dark ebony hair covering his face as he stares at the ground, unmoving; distant.

The moment your back turns to them, the smile drops from your face and your eyes fill with tears.

---

You found out about Suguru from Yaga-sensei. Apparently, he had killed his parents and 112 non-sorcerers. Geto Suguru was now a criminal and exiled from the Jujutsu community. The Suguru you last met near the vending machines before he embarked on his new path; before Haibara’s death. 

Now you’re lying in bed, marinading in your sadness, thinking about how everything went to shit so fast. Haibara died and Suguru was as good as dead. Nanami was broken. You don't know where Satoru is but wherever he is, he's definitely not okay.

You’d heard Satoru had met Suguru from Shoko, considering she met him before Satoru did. And Shoko. Shoko shut herself off, acting as if everything was fine. She keeps conversations short and drowns herself in her studies and her work. Things will never be the same again. 

You feel conflicted. Did my words tick him off? Could I have said something better? Am I a terrible friend? Maybe if I find him now I can talk to him and be by his side, but he’s not the same Suguru I once knew. He didn’t seek me out. Why didn’t he come to meet me? Does he hate me? Does Satoru know I spoke to him before he did what he did? Does Satoru hate me? Will Shoko ever be the same again? No, of course, she won’t. None of us will ever be the same again. It’s all broken. Everything went to shit. 

There’s knocking on your door. You glance at the alarm clock on your side table. 2:30 am it blinks, in an angry red light that hurts your eyes. You sit up on your bed as you contemplate whether to open the door or ignore it. You can feel the cursed energy of the person pulsing behind the door. They knock again. You get up and open the door to see one Gojo Satoru leaning against the doorframe with his sunglasses on and shoulders drooped. His stance is unguarded, tired, and face sullen. 

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” he looks apologetic as he opens his sunglasses and puts them in his pocket. His once crystal blue eyes are now a muted blue with dark purple circles underneath them. 

You silently shake your head, opening the door further and walking deeper into the room hoping he’d follow. He does, as he shuts the door behind him. You sit on the foot of your bed as he drags his feet next to you and falls on his back with his long legs dangling off the edge. 

He closes his eyes and opens them, then closes them again. You look at him wondering what to say. As nothing comes to your mind you simply decide to lie down next to him and stare up at the ceiling. You both stay like that for what seems like a long time, soaking in each other’s presence as if it might be stolen from you both within moments.

“You know…I met him. We spoke and he told me I should kill him if I wanted to. I was about to but then I couldn’t do it,” his voice is so small, almost trembling. He’s breathing heavily, the silence in the room when he’s not speaking is so loud you can almost hear his heart beating.

You turn your head to see him staring up at the ceiling. He breathes your name.

“I just… couldn’t do it,” he releases a shaky breath, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Maybe I should have. Maybe because I didn’t kill him, a lot more people will-” he chokes.

Your heart hurts seeing him like this. The pain you were trying to control floods your senses and nothing feels real anymore. You wish it was a nightmare, that once you wake up everything would be fine. Suguru would still be here, his parents still alive, Satoru being his usual childlike self, Shoko with her hilarious little remarks, Haibara filling the room with his larger-than-life presence and laugh, Nanami emo as ever but still with you all. Riko still alive. But the more you try to force yourself to wake up you realize you’re fully awake already. This isn’t a nightmare; it’s real. This is your life.

“Of course you couldn’t, Satoru. I mean it’s Su-“ you cut yourself off with a shaky exhale. “All of this is just so-“ your voice breaks as you try to contain the tears. You take a deep breath trying to hold in your hurt. You have to be strong because right now Satoru isn’t. He needs you now more than ever.

“It’s just so unfair,” you say under your breath. 

“I’m supposed to be the strongest. I’m supposed to be the “honored one”. I mean- it was a moment of weakness. I can’t-“ he puts both his hands on his face as he breathes heavily and mutters incoherently. 

“I can’t be weak,” he spits the word as if it’s venom. Poison, tainting his pristine lips. 

“I just- I can’t.”

He mutters your name as he starts heaving and trembling. You immediately sit up and lean over him; your face over his own. 

His eyes blink rapidly as he gulps and tries to take a full breath, ultimately failing. 

You hold his face and look into his eyes. “Satoru, you’re having a panic attack. Look at me, okay? Focus on me.”

He shakes his head, and sniffles, clutching his chest as he continues spiraling. “I can’t- I can’t breathe.”

You grab his clenched hand and hold it against your chest. “Feel me breathe, okay? Look look. Inhale, and exhale. Okay? It’s just us here, alright? Forget everything else.”

Your chest rises and falls in a steady motion as Satoru’s eyes lock onto yours. Trying to match his breathing with yours, his eyes slowly regain focus as his chest stops heaving. His Adam’s apple bobs as he takes deeper breaths. Soon enough, your hearts beat in the same rhythm. 

“There you go. Deep breaths,” you give him a small smile as one hand still holds his against your chest and the other holding the side of his face; thumb caressing his cheek. 

Mouth open and eyes blurry, he gulps as he brings up his free hand to touch your face. His fingers brush over the scar on your right cheek. No one else has ever touched your scar like this. Even you've never traced it with so much love and tenderness. Only Satoru has, and you realize you like that very much. You like the feeling of his fingers on your skin, especially on the part of your body that makes you feel like a complete failure. It scares you, but you can't even think about it now because his fingers are everywhere. They graze your jaw, run through your hair, and trace your nose, before finding their rightful place back over your cheek. His voice is strained and so, so small. “You’re real, right?”

A stubborn stray tear escapes your eye as you give him a watery smile. “Yeah, I’m real, Satoru. I’m real.”

He leans up to rest his forehead against yours as he closes his eyes. Your breaths mix as you feel his silver eyelashes flutter against your cheeks. His wispy bangs tickle your face and you notice his hair has gotten longer. You also notice how he has two indents on each side of the bridge of his nose where his sunglasses spend all their time. He also has the clearest skin you have ever seen anyone have. Your eyes map his face like it's the first time you're seeing him but not the first time you realize that he is so, so beautiful. And your heart almost stops at the realization that you might just be in love with Gojo Satoru.

This is the most intimate you’ve ever been with anyone. This is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him be and the most vulnerable you’ll ever let yourself be. Your tears don’t seem to stop now, flowing freely, falling onto his rosy cheeks and shirt. He gently wipes them away with his thumb as your foreheads stay pressed together. Hands still intertwined against your heart and thoughts flowing together. 

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re here. I just- I had to see you,” his voice was low, almost a whisper.

Your voice is quiet too and you feel your face getting warm. “Always.”

You both stay like that for a couple minutes, breathing each other in, feeling each other’s heart beat. You feel so guilty for wanting to tell him you love him. You can't do that now. He's upset and lost and you won't put something like this on him right now. So you bury it and just bask in the sound of his breathing.

Once he’s calmed down, you both lie down next to each other, shoulders touching, back to staring at the ceiling. You sniffle and wipe your eyes, feeling the weight on your chest significantly lighten. After a few minutes, his raspy voice breaks the silence.

“He has a son,” He looks at you, “Toji Fushiguro. He has a son. Said his name was Megumi Fushiguro.”

His eyes shift between yours and then travels all over your face. He nibbles on his lips and continues, “Apparently, the kid’s been sold to the Zenin’s, ‘cause of the Ten Shadows Technique he inherited.”

You turn your head to look at him and you know what he's thinking.

“You’re gonna stop the sale?”

Satoru grins, “I'm gonna stop the sale,” He looks up at the ceiling and stretches his arms up. “And, anyways. He’ll be much better off here. Not to mention, his technique is the best thing to come out of his shit family, so win-win.”

“How old is he?”

Satoru shrugs, “6? 7, I guess?”

You look up at the ceiling and wonder. When Satoru speaks again, somehow reading your thoughts, you look at him.

“Will you help me?” He looks at you so longingly, and you don't even need to think about the answer. Your worries are forgotten. All you know is that you both will figure it out.

“Of course, Satoru.”

He releases a small exhale and smiles at you. You return it. You open your mouth to say something but Satoru beats you to it.

“You know, sometimes I wish I was just any regular person. Not the strongest, not a sorcerer. Just some random normie.”

You wish you could give him that. Sometimes you also have thoughts like this. What if you were just a regular person? No powers, no clue about curses, no idea about weapons or cursed techniques. A regular life, a regular family. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Satoru hums as he brushes his knuckles against yours. You let your wishful thinking get the better of you. 

“Hey. What if we run away?”

Satoru looks at you with wide eyes and a slacked jaw. You look back at him with a half smile, because you know you would. You would run away with him if he wanted to. Of course, you’d ask Shoko to join the both of you as well. But you imagine going somewhere tropical maybe. Somewhere small, a place with a beach preferably so you could watch Satoru prance around in the water and build sandcastles, only for you or Shoko to go and stomp all over it. And then you’d watch him throw a hissy fit and pout about it for the rest of his life. You’d watch the sun set over the ocean every single day without a worry in the world. Maybe you could be there till you’re old and wrinkled. Living to 80, dying in your bed wrapped in blankets and the people you love - a dream. A place where you’re nobodies. A place where Satoru could finally be free. You’d leave everything behind to have that with him. Not like you have much to leave behind anyways. But you would. 

Satoru laughs softly, almost under his breath.

“You know what?”

Your eyes are observing his every expression; you stare at his porcelain skin and sharp jaw, eyes staring up at the ceiling and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He looks at you with his glittering sapphire eyes and bitten-bloodied pink lips stretched into a real smile. You look at the small dimple on the side of his right cheek and you think, just for tonight, maybe the weight on his chest feels lighter too. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

------------------------------------------------------------

part 3

a/n: HAH YOU THOUGHT THEY'D KISS? nope, still hopelessly pining lolol. but we’ll get there, bear with me :’)

tagged: @thepup356, @porridgesblog, @stray-npc, @daisy-the-quake, @reignsaway, @ainetx, @icarusignite

[rosewaterandivy]

you always come close, but you never come easy

band!au - Steve's birthday on the road in '04 - what could possibly go wrong? 4.4K of self-edited filth - what? my hand slipped! Let's wish Steve the happiest of birthdays under the cut, shall we?

🎶 This won't mean a thing come tomorrow, and that's exactly how I'll make it seem... 🎶

Steven Michael Harrington was the bane of your existence.

A chaotic whirl of genetics, talent, and an absolute knack for driving you batshit crazy. He swears it’s unintentional. You have your reservations about that.

“Should be there soon,” Eddie says, adjusting the volume of the radio.

The end of the ‘04 Warped Tour was near enough you could taste it. Which also meant that Steve's birthday was soon approaching— he’s a Leo, bless— and Hopper had swung a much needed hotel stay for the band.

Showers, A/C that actually worked, not having to sleep with Rob’s feet in your face— what bliss. You could hardly wait, had even convinced Eddie to drive straight through to get there sooner.

Steve and Rob had passed out while Eddie drove and your bladder was fit to burst from the Gatorade you’d chugged back a few towns ago. 

Hopper had warned you well in advance that there would be no complaining about room assignments whatsoever. You didn’t really care about all of that, the idea of a bed to spread out on was enough to satiate you. It would beat sleeping in the van, for sure. 

It had been close quarters for the entirety of the summer, losing stuff only to find it in someone else’s bag and vice versa. Which only made it all the more embarrassing when Eddie wound up with the vibrator you’d sworn you had shoved to the farthest depths of your duffle bag. He relinquished it back to you after a few well-deserved taunts.

Eddie pulls into the parking lot and you launch yourself from the van in search of the nearest restroom.

“Do you care who you bunk with?” He yells across the lot.

“Obviously not!”

After the most powerful piss of your life, hand to god, you enter the lobby to find Steve waiting with your bag. Sipping from a very familiar Ohio is for Lovers travel mug.

“Looks like it’s you and me Ace.”

Steve looks as dead as you feel as the pair of you trudge to your hotel room, too exhausted to even speak. Not unusual for the two of you, especially after hauling ass from the previous venue to get to the hotel. You graciously offer him the shower, having quickly done so before leaving the last venue, and all but collapse on the bed.

He’s mildly rejuvenated after that. His hair is damp when he returns, a few waves beginning to curl up, some strands obscuring his eyes; longer than you're accustomed to, but still boyish. A soft smile graces his lips as you roll on the bed to make room for him, “Hi,” he rasps, voice muted and low. 

“Happy early birthday,” You reply, eyes darting toward him on the corner of the bed as he fiddles with the strings of his low-slung sweats.

“Thanks.”

The silence between you stretches, has you itching for reprieve.

He falls at your side on the bed, hand easily finding yours. Steve turns to face you, then a kiss.

Softer than you’d expected, nearly featherlight against your lips. As if he’s unsure of how to proceed, tentative and guarded.

Late June 2004, somewhere in the Southwest

“I have ground rules y’know,” You pant out, hands scrambling for purchase against the wall behind you. Legs hitched around his waist, he nods blearily, one large hand splayed across your lower back. “Such as,” You continue as his tongue blazes a trail on your collarbones, “It stays secret, no one can know.”

He pauses at that, teeth grazing lightly against your skin. Hazel eyes flit up to you, curious. “Not even Rob,” You clarify, one hand moving to run through his hair. Placated, for now, he focuses his attention to the curve of your neck.

You swallow audibly, “This stays on tour.” A soft groan eeks out of him as your nails lightly scrape against his scalp. He tuts indignantly at that your newest decree and busies himself sucking a bruise to your neck. “Fuck–,” You bury a moan, and roll your hips against his seeking any friction you can get. “It’s–It’s over when tour wraps.”

Extricating himself from the hollow of your throat, he brushes his lips against yours and pops the button of your shorts. “That so?” He murmurs, lips ghosting across yours as you struggle to make heads or tails of the conversation. “Every tour, or just this one in particular?” He asks casually, tugging the fly down slowly.

You can feel your brain leaking from your ears. You follow his gaze down to your lap where he’s got a thumb lightly tracing the seam of your cunt. He smiles, amused, “Not so chatty now, hmm?”

Wiggling in his grasp, you leverage yourself against the brick wall behind you. Right, the rules… you struggle to find your thoughts. “No strings, no feelings,” You continue in a breathy tone. His fingers don’t let up, continuing their trajectory downward painting you with your slick. 

Your fingers tangle into his hair to pull him closer. His breath hitches as he pulls your panties to the side to spread you open with his fingers. “No sleepovers,” You manage to gasp out as he spreads your folds wider and lazily sweeps across your clit. 

He rolls his neck languidly and rests his forehead against yours, “Anything else?” His fingers continue their assault, your cunt sopping and oh so empty.

You shake your head once meeting his eyes, breath coming in quick gulps. He smiles, “Good,” his voice is husky and low when he cants his hips pushing you higher against the wall. His teeth find your ear giving it a tug, “Doing so well,” he whispers, “Getting nice and wet for me.” He makes sure you have your eyes on him.

Then pushes two fingers into your entrance.

“Fuck–” you manage to choke out. The stretch is delightful, your cunt clenching against him.

“That’s it honey, so fucking pretty,” he moans, setting a brutal pace. 

And you can feel the callouses against your walls as he fucks his fingers into you. He presses the palm of his hand against your clit and your vision tunnels. The sole ring he wears, warm from the friction and slick against your sex, prods at your entrance. You can’t help the wanton moan that falls from your mouth.

“God, you’re so wet,” he groans, “Think you can take one more?”

You whine loudly, wordlessly, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. 

He works a third finger in, impossibly, and drags his nose along your jawline. Grins with a muttered good girl and fucks you with his fingers. Your whole body quakes. “There it is,” He murmurs and pumps in and out of you at a relentless pace. Your hips begin to thrust, uselessly, against his hand, attempting to match his stoke.

Then he feels it. Your cunt pulses against his fingers and your muted cries turn desperate. Your legs tighten against his hips to pull him even closer–and then you shatter with a broken sob, walls clenching crudely around his fingers as you chase your high, slick trickling down his fingers as he helps you ride out your release.

You don’t know how long the pair of you stay like that, with you slumped against the wall, legs trembling in the aftershock. He remains steady all the while, anchoring you in the come down, fingers still buried deep inside you. Gently, he pulls his fingers from your cunt, and you groan when he pushes them between your lips, fixing you with a steady gaze while he makes you lick them clean.

He clears his throat, “I have some rules as well.” Your body ratchets up with tension, ruining your lazy recovery. You drag your tongue slowly along his index finger, urging him to continue. 

He lets out a shaky breath, “You’re too good at that,” He observes. You shrug casually in response. He steadies a hand above your shoulder, leaning against the wall. “Okay, first off, we need to figure out a system,” His eyes fall to your mouth, “Y’know, so Eds and Rob don’t get suspicious.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, satisfied with a job well done; you try not to preen at that. His thumb swipes against your bottom lip, full from your repeated biting and abuse. “Secondly, I’d like to kiss you stupid whenever I can.”

“Seems bit Pretty Woman to me,” You joke, earning a bark of laughter from him. “But if you say so–”

You don’t get to finish that sentence as he presses his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. You breathe out shakily from your nose, eyes fluttering closed. 

You had no idea Steve Harrington could kiss like this.

He breaks away from you, lingering against your lips. “And the last rule is,” He breathes out, “This thing, between us?” You nod slowly, “It’s exclusive–I don’t fuck anyone else and neither do you. Deal?”

You painfully run the calculations in your head, trying your damndest not to be distracted by the man in front of you. You say it aloud, for clarity’s sake, “So it will be a secret, no-strings, two-month long booty call, in which we’re not allowed to fuck other people or catch feelings?”

He nods in agreement, “Sounds about right.”

What could possibly go wrong? Everything, with absolute 100% certainty.

But what the hell.

“Okay deal,” You nod your assent coping a quick glance at your watch. “D’you want that blowjob now or later?”

He eyes the numbers on your wrist, “Considering we go on in about, an hour…” his hands squeeze the backs of your thighs as he lifts you from the wall and walks you to the couch. 

Dropping you unceremoniously on the cushions, he scrubs a hand through his hair. “I’m thinkin’ it’ll be later, right?”

You quirk a brow at him, “I’m trying not to be offended here, we have half and hour, at least, before they come looking for us.” You tug him down against the cushions fingers tracing against the crotch of his pants. He groans when you finally unzip the fly, “You thought I was good with my mouth before?”

He’s leaning back on his elbows, watching you as your hands come to his hips. He nods, dumbstruck, eyes following your every move. You pull down just enough to release his cock from its confines, wrapping your palm around him and giving a firm stroke. His head falls back against his shoulders as he gasps. You tell him, “Have to be quiet, yeah?”

He nods wordlessly, forehead wrinkled as if in deep concentration. He tucks his chin in to watch you and his jaw goes slack as you let his length sink into your mouth.

Steve groans low, fingers weaving into your hair as his ring catches on stray strands while you go as far down as you can, filling your mouth so completely full with his thick cock. 

It’s been a while since you’ve done this, the hinge of your jaw beginning to ache from the pressure. You love the sensation though; you can taste the soap from his shower, the sweetness clinging to your tongue and melding with bright tang of his precome. Having no time to spare, you forego any usual teasing in favor of working up a brisk rhythm.

Steve mumbles incoherently above you, broken moans and half-formed words between panting breaths burrow into your consciousness–that’s it, honey–so fucking good–look at me, look at me while you take my cock– One of your hands braces against his thigh as if flexes underneath your fingers as he twitches and jerks, your other hand fists what you can’t fit in your mouth.

When you do look up, he is so far gone that you moan around him causing a violent shudder to rattle his entire body. He thrusts forward without warning, which makes you choke as spit floods your mouth.

“Fuck–you’re gonna make me come,” he blurts out, head rolling back against the armrest with an audible thunk.

As you open your mouth a little bit wider he thrusts again–tears sting the corner of your eyes as he begins to fuck your mouth, experimentally at first. Finding no resistance, he rolls his hips deeper pushing his cock farther, harder, deeper causing you to whimper around him.

You can say for certain that no one has ever fucked your throat as thoroughly as Steve is right now. Your cunt clenches on nothing as he loses it, his hold on your hair bordering on painful, his body taut under your grasp.

Thankfully, this time comes with a warning when he chokes, the rhythm of his hips wavering. “I’m gonna come in your mouth if you don’t stop, honey.” You try to smile around him, but you can’t, his cock is so fucking big there simply isn’t any room. Instead, you reach down and firmly cup his heavy sac. 

His hips jerk, the head of his cock nearly hitting the back of your throat. With an broken growl, the heady taste of his come fills your mouth with each erratic thrust of his hips. You swallow thickly – once, twice – before he stills.

His grip in your hair finally lets up, and reaching down for your hands, he pulls you up on shaky knees, his lips crashing into your swollen ones, a moan caught deep in his throat. He licks into your mouth, desperate to taste himself. 

Then he pulls back and sighs, eyes soft on you as he wipes the glossy spit from your lips. You smile against his fingertips to say, “And that’s how its done.”

He throws his head back and laughs, loud and bright, in the otherwise quiet dressing room. “Love that smart fucking mouth,” he says tugging up his pants as you stand up to button your shorts. You hop in place, tugging the fabric back where it should be and set about searching for your phone.

After zipping his fly and scrubbing a hand through his hair, Steve faces you. “Is it completely obvious?”

His voice is low and gravelly, you shudder involuntarily. “That you’ve just had the soul sucked out of you?” You ask, leaning back in assessment. “Mm, yeah. But it’s hot, so.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, rough palms splayed against your lower back. 

Hands on his chest, you attempt to push him off, but he won’t let you, easily overpowering you. He traces the outline of your jaw with his nose until his breathing evens out, “Thanks,” He murmurs and you have to actively remind yourself to stay standing upright. “It was the outfit, wasn’t it?” He whispers, tone mischievous once more.

You turn from him with a laugh, “Oh yeah,” you toss over your shoulder adjusting your headset again, “Snapbacks, skinny jeans and muscle tanks really do it for me, Harrington. Total panty dropper.” You slip the phone into your back pocket. 

And when Eddie asks after the show why your voice sounded a bit raspier than usual, all you could do was laugh and shrug as Steve looked on smiling, cheeks tinged pink.

Since the agreement between you two had been struck, it was fast and fevered hookups in backrooms and the van during the scant times Eddie and Robin would leave you be. Certainly nothing in a bed, and definitely nothing as tender as Steve was being in this moment.

As if you would slip through his fingers before he could even get started, scared that he’d somehow spook you.

He presses you back against the sheets slowly, body warm and heady above your own— beads of water from his earlier shower trailing down the column of his neck. He apologizes when his teeth click against yours in a frantic kiss.

You pull away, dazed, brushing a lock of hair from his eyes. 

He’s so tired of the long road. Can’t stand another second of maneuvering in the dark down winding paths or broken streetlight avenues you’re not at the end of so he keeps his next phrase short: “I really like you.”

You raise your brow and brush the back of your knuckles over your lips, the light from the lamp streaming over your face. His hand tenderly brushes your cheek, the same one he touched all those months ago and you blink in surprise. Quick, calculating movements even as you lean gently into his touch.

“Took you long enough,” you mumble.

You place your hand over his chest, over his heart.

You kiss him, and Steve hears himself sighing into your mouth. His cheeks flush with embarrassment, but you’re not letting go, and he presses his lips to yours a little slower, a little firmer, learning the ways you like to feel him there.

He pulls back briefly, eyes taking you in, softly lit from the dim lamplight of the room. A shy smile and flash of bright teeth against the full of your lip. His eyes widen briefly, like he just realized something.

“Shit.”

“What?” You continue to card your fingers through his hair, lips grazing the skin of his neck as he spoke.

“Condoms.”

“Uh-huh,” Your warm lips smooth down the side of his neck to press kisses to his chest. He shudders in your hold, eyes slipping shut as you tongue the plane of his collarbone. 

“Forgot to get ‘em,” He manages to rasp out. “Slept through the last gas station stop.”

“Mmm.”

Finding purchase in the thick roots of his hair as he falls into the cradle of your neck, his mouth easily finding the underside of your jaw to sponge with kisses. 

“So we can’t—”

“I never said that.”

Steve stops, extricating himself from where he’d settled against your neck. “Um, what?” He blinks owlishly.

“Well,” You begin, nails scratching lightly against his scalp. “I'm on birth control, and we're both clean. So.”

He swallows audibly, “So I’d just like, pull out? I’ve never really…”

Your hands graze further up his chest to hold to the sides of his warm neck as you kiss him once more. You can feel his pulse racing, the knowledge that he’s not calm bringing a mischievous smile to your face.

“Yeah,” You shrug. “If you want, birthday boy.”

A strangled sound escapes from the cavern of his chest, something between a whine and a moan. Regardless, it’s definitely something you need to hear again. 

“Christ,” he chokes, flinching when your breath tickles him, forgetting about everything except the way his skin tingles for more. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Steve looks like he’s been ridden hard and put away wet. Odd, because nothing like that has happened yet. His brain feels broken to bits.

His hair’s sticking up in all sorts of places, fluffy chestnut locks disheveled. His chest, heaving, panting—lips dry, rosy across his cheeks and the tip of his nose. He stutters once, twice, at the sight of you before catching himself and asks with quiet reverence, 

“You’re sure?” He presses his forehead to yours.

“Positive.”

You start rolling your hips up against him, pants still on, and Steve yanks them down impatiently. He’s pushing your spine into the sheets, dick leaking precome through the gray fabric before something pivots in his frazzled mind.

You pull your hands down from his neck, over his strong chest and down his sides before wrapping them around his back to tuck your fingers into the band of his sweats.  

“Can I taste you first?” He asks quietly, you nod breath stuttering in your lungs when an errant lock of hair falls across his forehead.

He drops to his knees, gets his mouth on your thighs.

Two fingers brush down the line of your slit, warmth seeping inside your panties hotter and hotter with every stroke. Your body flexes, shuddering as he does it again. He’s never gone slow and he doesn’t know what’s possessed him this time, but he parts them, curls them on the outside of your lips, pinching your clit, and then his mouth is sucking at your sweet flavor through the fabric.

Steve carefully turns his head to get into a better position, pulling the lace to the side. He’s kissing syrup out of a honeycomb and you’re keening for more, pawing at your own tits, grinding back into his mouth. You’re desperate, he can hear it when you choke on the breathy first few letters of his name. Not used to being treated gently, and neither is he, but he’s discovering that he really likes the way you shake on his face.

He pays your squirming no mind, not even when you try to wiggle out of your remaining clothes, grab him by his hair and pull him off. Steve holds your hands, flicks his tongue even more.

“Mmm,” he slurs, drunk on the novelty of what feels like tenderness. “You taste good.”

Regular nights together know frantic touches and roughness. The beat of his palm on your bare ass, harmonies of grunts and howls muffled against his chest, the perfume of sweat crushed into heated skin. He even gets back to flirting with the kind of sex you’re used to—slapping your cunt wetly.

Two times is all it takes. Two vulgar hits and you’re crumbling as you come.

There’s a thin gloss of satisfaction covering your entire body when Steve pulls you into his lap tossing your underwear to the side, marveling at your glazed eyes so different from how they usually look when the two of you fuck. Limp legs rearrange themselves around his waist. You hiss when he slides two fingers inside.

You’re always wet, but he’s drenched down to his wrist. It’s good-new. It’s different-new—but could he get used to this? Could he? Was Eddie right? About not fucking your friends? His thoughts are backfiring, signals getting crossed just like he was warned—ah shit, what’s he gonna do about this?

“Oh,” you mewl, astonished, rocking gently with this guidance of his hands. You claw at his chest and back weakly, moaning, “Steve…” His name overruns out of your tipsy hot mouth, “Steve…” Again, and it makes his cock throb.

He moves carefully, taking a long look at you. He can make out most of your expression, gazing at him like a blooming flower, asking to be touched, to be felt, to be drank from. He’s scrambled the entire thing, tuned into a different frequency, a molten heat seeping from his chest, warming him everywhere.

“Baby,” you say, and he nearly loses it right then and there— synapses misfiring all over the place. “Stevie, baby,” and he’s rushing to fuck you—really fuck you. Get in deeper than he’s ever been with anyone, find the truth of it, the wet hot core of it, marvel at it like how he really wants.

He was wrong. Regular no-strings attached sex, regular rough sex, regular – anything. He’s been robbing himself of these pretty sounds and this side of you and this side of himself, too.

Being on the road allows little time for tenderness. It’s all muffled cries and fervent fucks. This is as close to bliss as he can get.

You cling to him like he’s the last tether to your world, gripping his skull, pushing him into your chest where he buries his face.

“Baby,” he tests its letters, and says it again. “Fuck,” he whispers before slanting his mouth over yours once more. His hand slipped between you, taking hold of his length to guide himself to your center.

He slows down, lashes fluttering, pulling you further into him until it’s indistinguishable where either of you end, aching and pulsing.

Your walls clench just from the contact of his skin on yours, his mouth breaking from yours haphazardly so he could look down. You admire the way he intently watched his cock glide through your wet folds, tingles coursing across your skin as his flushed head brushed your clit - once, twice, three times. You couldn’t keep your hips still, circling and arching towards him, following his every movement. And when he dipped forward, fucking into your wet heat with no resistance, your mouth fell open in a silent moan.

“Ah, shit,” he practically hisses, pushing into you in one full thrust until his pelvis met yours. He stilled deep inside you, trying to hold back a moan as he bit into his bottom lip. “Ohmygod, I-” he licks his overly pink lips as he looks up at you, wild eyes flicking across your features while his brows crinkled in pleasure. “Goddamn,” he breathes.

“Fuck, you feel good,” you mutter, voice dripping in want and sluggish as his hips pull away from yours again before leveling out and holding it. 

“Let me come in you,” he whispers, “Can I?” He’s never done it before, never thought that much about it really, and the way he asks makes you whimper. “I want to,” he says again, “Want to come in you. Wanna give it to you.”

You only nod, touching your forehead to his tenderly, overwhelmed by how much you need it— need him. He slips his tongue between your teeth, kisses you long, losing his edges when he bursts apart in your arms.

He lays you both down on the crumpled blanket, reaching for each other in the aftermath, breathing slow and deep. He’s sticky with all sorts of fluids, that tangy heady smell hovering like fog.

“That was…” you trail off, turning your head toward him.

“Yeah.”

A turn to check the time, red numerals shining from the bedside table, 2:47 AM.

“Happy birthday Steve Harrington,” you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, lips curled into a smile. 

His arm wraps around you, hand falling to the dip of your low back and pulling you closer. Your eyes fall close, lashes fluttering against his skin.

When God made you, he must have wanted it to hurt.

Looking at you for too long, Steve figures, is like moon-gazing through a high-powered telescope. You don’t expect it to be painful when the light hits your eye because you forget how much light there actually is. 

He brushes away the damp hair that has stuck to your cheeks and forehead, wipes your brow, and presses his lips to you, tasting musk and sweat.

He does it again, another kiss to your forehead, and again, leaving his own mark, impacts of softness, and love, and everything he needed and couldn’t receive for so long.

Steve could spend the rest of his life kissing you, and knows that he wouldn’t be satisfied— it would never be enough. Twisted heartache and sublime, it's you he can't deny.

[milflewis]

i'd love to hear your thoughts on surfer!mick encountering mermaid!lewis (can you tell i can't stop thinking about that photo)

1. “I’ve been looking for you,” Mick says, and the mermaid looks over his shoulder, spotting him. He doesn’t move from his perch on the rocks so Mick paddles closer.

“Not in a weird way,” Mick quickly follows up with, floundering. “Just — over the years. I’ve kept an eye out. Normally. Casual. Just to see if I saw you again. Yeah.”

He winces. That could’ve come out better.

The end of the mermaid’s tail is draped into the water and the scales Mick can see are a dark purple, shiny and slick like oil in the sun. They run up his stomach, fading strangely into skin at his waist. Mick is too far to see the details of his tattoos.

Normally, Mick knows from school, they can reach up past the middle of the ribs but he must have human in him somewhere for them to be so low.

“You saved my life once.” Mick clears his throat, tightening his fingers around his board. He pulls one leg up under him. His throat is dry.

He loves the sea, always has, even when he is scared of it. Maybe especially then.

He had known better than to go surfing when it was that choppy, with winds that high, even at that age, but he had just gotten that new board and ignored every voice in his head that told him no.

He had been sure he was going to die there, coughing and cold and wet, too dark and swirling to tell where was up or where was down.

“It was a while ago,” Mick says. “You might not remember.”

“You were shorter.” The mermaid’s voice is soft, softer that Mick expected, and his teeth are sharp.

“Well,” Mick shrugs, cheeks heating. “I was thirteen so.”

He remembers how his nails dug into Mick’s shoulders, how he pulled and pulled and pulled until Mick could feel sand on his knees and pushed at his chest until Mick choked, bone sore and shaking. His eyes were very bright in the dark when Mick looked at him. Mick remembered how he looked right back.

He’s looking at Mick right now.

“I remember,” he says, and smiles. He’s very pretty actually. Mick is helpless not to smile back.

“I wanted to say thank you, for that, so, um, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the mermaid replies and Mick gets the faint feeling he’s laughing at him.

2. “Woah, man, is that, like, fish?”

Lewis pokes at smoked salmon on top of the cracker Mick gave him, face unreadable. The sun is setting behind him and the loose off white beach coverup that Mick stole from Gina’s room is slipping off one shoulder. The whole effect is slightly devastating to Mick’s insides. It might even be giving him indigestion.

He looks at the fish, and then at Lewis’s face, just barely frowning, not quite a grimace, and back at the fish before it clicks. Oh god.

“Oh, god,” he says out loud. “Can you — I didn’t even think to ask, I’m so sorry. Can you even eat fish? I mean, do you eat fish because, you know —“

Lewis pulls a face, mouth pulling up, one eye squinting. He peers sheepishly at Mick. He looks like he might try eating it anyway. This is definitely giving Mick stomach problems. He’s ruined everything.

Lewis gently puts down the cracker, exhaling. It’s almost a sigh. “Fish are friends,” he says, quiet. “Not food.”

Mick closes his eyes. He’s so fucking stupid. He planned this entire thing out — getting the time right with the sunset and the weather and the lack of people on their corner of the beach and — And. And.

“I love Finding Nemo,” he states calmly. Lewis grins at him, all seriousness come from his face. Mick hates him.

“Such a classic, right?”

“You know, Hamilton,” Mick says, butterflies melting away. “You’re a bit of a dickhead, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Nope!” Lewis says, popping a grape into his mouth, eyes crinkling. Mick flicks some crumbs at him with his fingers.

3. Mick goes very still as he lifts a hand, palm first. A raindrop falls in the centre of it, light and warm.

He doesn’t bother saying just one moment to Sebastian, taking three long running steps to shove Lewis off the edge of the pier and into the sea.

When Lewis’s head pops up out of the water, eyelashes dark and curls flat, he’s laughing. The rain isn’t quite a lash but it’s not a drizzle either. It’s water whatever way you spin it.

“Really?” Lewis says, grinning. His pearl necklace matches the ones in his ears. Mick picked up a bracelet that he thinks would look nice with it at one of the stalls at the market in town a few days ago.

There’s a shiver of deep purple shimmering below where Lewis’s legs should be if you squint.

“Yes, really,” Mick replies, shifting so Sebastian can’t see his face. He raises his eyebrows meaningfully. Lewis rolls his eyes.

“Huh.” Sebastian comes up beside him, his sensible sandals quiet on the stone pier. He pauses to lick messily at his ice cream cone. “I thought it is just salt water that activates your tail. Does regular rain water do it too?”

Mick stares at him, and then at Lewis when he says, “Nah, it’s just salt water. Has to be from the sea too. Mickie here is just being overly cautious.”

“Overly cautious?! What if someone saw —“

Mermaids are rare enough and nearly every part of them is worth a lot of money. They’ve been an endangered species as long as Mick can remember.

Sebastian hums, solemn. “So serious, our Mick.”

“So sorry for being concerned,” Mick declares, throwing his hands up in the air because he knows it’ll make Lewis laugh. It does. Mick, very seriously, ignores the amused look Sebastian sends him.

4. “Wait,” Mick says, a while after. He and Sebastian are sat side by side now, feet dangling in the water, cool against their calves. Strands of Lewis’s hair tickle Mick’s leg whenever he floats too close.

“How did you know Lewis was a mermaid? I never told you.”

He looks quickly at Lewis to make sure he knows that. Lewis’s mouth tilts up at one side and he doesn’t say anything. Mick curls his toes and uncurls them.

“I didn’t either,” Lewis says, looking up at Sebastian. He wraps a wet hand around Mick’s ankle, thumb brushing along his instep.

Sebastian shrugs, face flat and still in that way that he does right before he’s about to tell a joke that he is particularly proud of. His mouth is twitching.

“Ah, you know,” he starts, shrugging. “The smell of fish is very strong around him, yes?”

He catches hold of Mick’s t-shirt when Lewis pulls Sebastian in by the foot, dragging both of them down. Mick swallows a dreadful amount of sea water, laughing and then choking. Lewis’s hands are cold and soft on his elbows when he pulls him back up to the surface.

5. Lewis’s shoulders are bare and broad as he arches in the air, whole body twisting and tucking as he dives back into the water. Show off.

Mick reaches out a hand and Lewis swims closer, humming. It’s still too early for other surfers to be out, sun not yet risen, tide in and calm.

Mick lies his chest flat on his board, one arm folded under his chin, the other still outstretched. Lewis’s curls are damp at the edges and loose around his face. Mick tucks one behind his ear when he gets close enough.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” he says, and Lewis only raises is eyebrows.

“Have you?”

“Yes,” and when Mick kisses him, he tastes of salt and his lips are cold but his tongue is warm and everything is wet. He realises if he holds Lewis’s chin in one hand, fingers on his cheek, he can feel how the lines around Lewis’s mouth deepen when he smiles.

[pupplaylogan]

Breedable Bitch (Intrulogical)

"I’d like to see you write Remus and Logan together with Remus calling Logan a Breedable bitch. If you’re alright with that. - 🌧️"

Ao3

Word/s: 528

Summary: top remus + bottom logan, scratching + slight blood, hair pulling, aggressive sex

Smut Drabbles masterlist | FANFICTION MASTERLIST

Remus pins Logan down by the shoulders, chest pressing uncomfortably into the couch. His ass is in the air and Remus is slamming into him— skin slapping with every thrust.

Logan's hands grip the couch cushion the best he can. Pressing his face down and panting hard, his chest heaves. His face is wet from sweat and his hair is plastered onto his skin.

Remus moves his hands away from Logan's shoulders and then he digs his nails into his upper back, slowly, tediously, dragging them down. Hard. Little beads of blood prickle up from the little lines.

Logan moans, muffled.

Remus grips his hips, continuing to fuck him as Logan's cock leaks and sways inbetween his legs. He bet he's bruising (and that thought has his cock twitching).

He's teetering on the edge.

Remus leans down over Logan, blowing hot breath against his ear. His mustache tickles his skin. He licks his ear before growling, "Aren't you my breedable, little bitch?"

Logan gasps.

He grips the cushion tighter in his fingers, eyes rolling into the back of his head. His mouth falls open in a silent moan, before they clank together, clenching. He groans. "Remus, oh fuck—."

He comes, legs shaking.

Remus laughs mockingly above him and his head spins.

"What? You like that? Do you like being my breedable bitch?" Remus asks, tone snide.

Logan doesn't respond. He's panting hard and drooling onto the couch. It pools beneath his mouth. His cock hits his stomach the harder Remus thrusts and he whines, overwhelmingly sensitive.

Fingers wind in his hair, pulling his head up with a sharp tug. Logan moans, wincing, both from the tug and awkward position. His mouth hangs open as drool runs down his chin.

"Answer me, bitch," Remus grunts. Logan moans again and nods the best he can.

"Yes, yes, yes," Logan chants.

"Yes, what?"

"I love being your bitch! Your breedable bitch!" Logan answers, squeezing his eyes shut.

Remus groans, dropping Logan's head and shoving his own into Logan's shoulder. A few more thrusts and he's coming in Logan. He shudders above him. Logan's cock weakly twitches and squirts out more cum.

(Remus spreads ointment across Logan's back, over the scratches— his scratches. His heart flutters in his chest, staring at the marks he put on Logan. He doesn't think he could stop the dopey smile on his face even if he tried.

Logan winces at the sting, but does his best to sit as still as possible.

Remus moves his fingers away, closing the jar, and wiping his hands on one of the random pillows. Logan turns around to face him, cupping his face and pressing a kiss to his mouth.

Much softer tham what they just finished doing.

Remus smiles at him, vibrating.

"Are you alright, love?" Logan asks, quietly.

Remus nods, running his hands up and down the sides of Logan's body. He starts rushing through questions. "Are you okay? Did I do too much? Did you like that? Was I too hard? Did I hurt you in a way you didn't like—"

Logan cuts him off with a shoosh and a finger to his lips.

"That was amazing, Remus.")

[crappymixtape]

because of you • ( teaser II )

TEASER FOR @sattlersquarry from my 500 follower mixtape requests – another crumb cos it's being a real pain in the ass, hoping for the full fic by next week, bbs!! – xoxo

They were crazy for this. All of them. Weren’t they?

To think they could kill some interdimensional whatever-the-fuck he was after everything he’d done. Summoned demon dogs from the depths of hell and conjured some melted people monster and burrowed into the depths of people’s darkest memories just so he could kill them from the inside out.

Yet here they were. All of them.

To help Max.

To help Eddie.

Had already saved his ass however many times and what had you done other than talk shit?

Letting out a sigh you watched as Eddie and Dustin shoved each other around in the grass, armed with garbage can lids full of nails, and it didn’t exactly instill you with confidence but when Dustin screamed NO WEDGIES! you couldn’t help laughing.

The funnel in your hands slid a bit left as you lost focus and you felt liquid pour down your hands and wrists.

“Shit, hold it still,” Steve quickly tipped the kerosene can back and set it down to grab a piece of ripped towel.

“Dammit,” you hissed under your breath, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you went to wipe your hands on your sweater, but when you looked back up at Steve he was looking too. Eyes warm like honey. Moles dotting along his cheek and jaw like tiny constellations. Skin like it held summer and when you blinked away the haze he’d put you in, you realized he was reaching out to you.

“Here, get that off so it doesn’t burn,” he said a little softer. Cloth in one hand, he took yours in the other and wiped at the kerosene.

Oh, fell from your lips. Surprised. Unsure. Your skin buzzing where he touched you and you swallowed thick as you felt your heart flutter against your neck.

“Uh–here. You can get the rest,” Steve said quickly, shoving the cloth at you and dropping your hand to wipe his on his jeans.

“Thanks,” you mumbled back.

It was quiet for a moment as he cleared his throat and picked up the can of kerosene again. You followed suit and grabbed your empty vodka bottle and funnel. Wordlessly he leaned over to hold your hands still with his and began pouring. Once it was steady he let go, eyes flicking over to look at you.

“I’m an asshole,” he admitted, breaking the silence, and you had to focus really hard to not fumble the bottle again.

“I didn’t say it,” you started and he laughed under his breath. A low, warm thing that made the air around you fizzle and crack like fireworks in July.

“Didn’t say you did,” he teased back, lips still tugged up in a smile, but it fell the longer he looked at you. “I know Eddie didn’t do it,” he said and the change in his tone surprised you. Told you he was serious and you had to look away to try to gather yourself back up again.

"Good," your voice was small, not like you, but it was full of gratitude and it made Steve smile again. Even if it was only a little one.

[unknownspecies]

INSPIRED FROM A BINGE READ OF YOUR CONTENT, BUT I FOUND THIS ONE THOUGHT AND I NEED TO GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD BECAUSE

Ushijima likes to admit that he's handsome but only when it comes to you having some effect of it right?

Cue him actually starting to like to take care of himself better, just to have you more closer to him, if that's even possible. He went all out by getting new skincare, body lotions, the best sunscreen he could find, sheet masks and what not.

Just to push things randomly into your face and be flustered himself. like he would genuinely be fully flushed at the thought of you caressing his face, but on the outside, he shows that he is just interested in skincare. (bubby hasn't learnt how to effectively explain and communicate his latest addiction: you)

So when he brings you to the bathroom, let's you sit on the counter while you bite on your lip trying to figure out exactly how to use the product, he will stand there, just looking at you concentrate. Really just being glad that someone is taking care of him, since no one has really done that except a few people in his life.

And once you figure out and flash him that 'I did it' smile, a smile naturally extends to his face. Cut to him literally looking like a huge soft puppy when you touch his face to apply the clay mask.

"Why can't you use your fingers to apply instead of this thing" "Toshi this thing is made for applying the mask" "But your fingers are softer"

"No don't apply too close to my lips" "Toshi i need to cover your entire face hun" "No" "Why not" "I can't kiss you if that's on my mouth" (Has the most stoic face as he says this, but seeing you blush, he slips in his flushed side as well)

I have more thoughts and i need to turn them into a fic but YOU

NOW I SHALL BE THINKING ABOUT TAKING CARE OF TOSHI ALL DAY THANKYOU

MWAH

- SCREAMING ANON

OMG ANON SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO ANSWER 😭

but im here now so lets see >:)

dude. yes. I stand by the fact that Ushijima Wakatoshi visually takes care of himself only when he starts seeing you flustered. You know damn well he did a bunch of research on skincare before he bought a bunch of products. He asked his teammates, went on websites online, and even watched a few skin routine videos on youtube before he did a big haul.

AND OMG. him just shoving products in your face and pretending it's not because he wants you to touch him 😩. It's not that he's pretending to not care about you, just like anon said, its just that he doesn't know how to properly say that "I just want you to touch me" (i wanna love you, i wanna feel you, i wanna touch and kiss and caress you ! 💀)

Ushijima would definitely love being doted on by you as well. He's in love with the feelings of your fingers grazing over his face as you see which products to use.

You'd be sitting on the counter holding the box of some random face mask he bought, face scrunched in concentration as you're reading the instructions. And your other hand? Its resting on his jaw, thumb softly going back and forth. The moment you want to take your hand away from him, he'll lay his palm over your hand, keeping it in place.

Eventually you'll realize exactly why he bought a bunch of skin care products, but by then you'll already have a routine ;) mind you, this routine mainly involves you doing both your own and ushi's skin care.

He'll also fall in love with one more habit that you made: spa days. It started when he came home from practice super sore. You decided to do a full care routine for him. Face masks, a small mani pedi (it was just you clipping and filing his nails, and putting some of the nail strengthener polish on them), and the best part: a full body massage. You bought a bottle of mixed oils so that you could help him completely relax. And oh did he enjoy it.

He enjoyed how your hands felt on him, and how you helped him relax. He enjoyed how your face was red as you massaged his shoulders, his arms, his back, his thighs. He enjoyed how even though your voice was stuttering, how you were struggling to breath and even swallow you own saliva, you're hands never faltered and continued putting pressure on where he was sore.

The second time this happened, Ushi just wanted some attention 🥺, so he pretended to be much more sore than he was so that he could have you touch him again. Thus came the routine that happened once every one or two months.

Either way. Toshi is a sucker for you and your touch. Which is exactly why he'll never use the products himself. And the only way you'll convince him to put the mask on his lips as well is because a) you'll be doing the mask over your lips as well (despite him using some horrible reasons not to) and b0 you claim that his lips will be even softer for you to kiss. And well, he wouldn't mind waiting an hour or two (he would mind very much).

[thisisnotacampaign]

“I’ll pluck it from your head, kiss it for luck, then back in it goes.”

The hag, of course, neglects to mention the magic needed to bind her in place, and the way it will burn hotter than the fires of Avernus, the nails digging around her eye socket and pulling—

And then, because nothing can ever be simple, the hag can’t even remove the damn worm from her head like she’d been promised.

There’s anger, simmering slowly under her skin, mixed with the prickle of magic that Lyra knows is her own and not the hag’s. Her fingers flex.

Spark.

Relax.

Lyra breathes.

Anger won’t bring her sight back, and neither will killing the hag. If she could kill the hag. She’d come alone, after all, deep in the middle of the night when the others had been sleeping.

So, what now?

It takes longer to get back to camp than it had to leave it. Lyra is sore, exhausted, her eye hurts. What’s left of her eye… the thought makes her ill.

She’s almost to the edge of their campsite when she feels someone watching her. Lyra jerks upright, scanning the tree line, but she doesn’t see anything. She can’t see—

“Lyra?”

She whirls around, her dagger a familiar weight in her hand, her lips already forming an incantation—

A solid hit to her wrist has her hand spasming, dropping the blade to the dirt. The following shove to her shoulder knocks her off balance, and her spell goes sailing over the intended target’s shoulder before blasting against a tree behind them.

“Lyra!”

Oh, gods, it’s—

“Wren!” Lyra cries, surprised.

“Where the hells have you been?” Wren’s hands, large and sword calloused, reach out as if to search for damage, but falter before they can touch her. “Oh gods,” They rasp, and Lyra turns her face to hide her damaged eye. It’s too late, of course, Wren’s already seen, already knows. “The hag. Of course it was the hag. I’m going to kill it. I’m— we’re going to kill the damned thing for this. It can’t get away with this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It took your eye, Lyra!” And now Wren’s hands actually do make contact, very gently circling her wrists. “It took you, and then it took your eye.”

“Took me? Wren, what are you talking about?”

“The hag.” They drop their voice lower, soothing, the way they speak to animals and young children when they think no one else is listening, “It must have kidnapped you during the night. Taken you right out from underneath our noses.”

Realization washes over Lyra, slow and cold.

“Wren,” Lyra struggles to keep her voice even, “The hag didn’t take me. I went to her.”

“What?”

Wren instantly lets go and takes a half step back. The look on their face, rising horror mixed with dread, is one Lyra doesn’t think she’ll ever forget.

“I wanted to give her a chance.” She spreads her hands, palms up, supplicating. “She said that she could help.”

“And you believed it?”

“Yes,” Lyra says, defensively, “I believed her. I thought her magic might actually be powerful enough to actually do something about these little monsters in our heads. And I was wrong.”

“Of course you were wrong! It’s a hag! All it does is lie.” Wren’s eyes are heated. Angry. A fire there that Lyra feels burning just as hot in her chest. “And you just ran off, without letting any of us know. It could have killed you! You just don’t ever think—“

“Enough!”

Wren’s jaw snaps shut with an audible ‘clack’.

“I’m not a child,” Lyra says, “I weighed the cost of my actions and thought it to be light enough. I was wrong. But it’s over now.”

Wren’s hands are fisted at their sides and they’re shaking.

Lyra steps in close, and places her hands over Wren’s.

“It’s over now.” She repeats, softer.

Wren’s eyes watch her face, glancing down at her lips before darting back up to her eyes, almost shy.

Lyra smiles and very gently squeezes Wren’s hands.

Wren smiles back.

Then they clear their throat and avert their eyes. “You should get some rest. It won’t hurt us to have a late morning start.”

Sleep sounds nice. Lyra lets Wren lead her back to the camp, where the barest of embers still glow in the fire pit from the night before. The others are there, right where she’d left them, curled up in their own bedrolls and sleeping peacefully. She watches Sparrow roll over in her sleep, murmuring softly. Enoch twitches, her nails digging into the dirt. On the other side of the fire Larkspur snores, and somehow manages to sound musical when doing so.

Lyra stretches out on her bed roll and, with Wren keeping silent watch, lets herself drift off to sleep.

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Don't Blame Me | John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!OC

Chapter 12: Willow

Ao3 | Masterpost

John and Nina settle in at the safe house.

General Tags: Fake Marriage, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Build, Canon-Typical Violence

Words: 2.8k

He made them frozen mac and cheese in the oven. He’d sat her on the bathroom counter again. A sewing needle in one hand and a lighter in the other. He moved between her legs and she turned so he could see her ear.

“You scared?” He asked, waving the needle over the flame. 

“Nervous, not scared.” She corrected. She had the earrings in her hand, two little silver studs. His breath was warm on her face. 

“Just don’t move.” She closed her eyes. “Count of three, okay Nina? One, two.”

He shoved the needle through her skin. She flinched, her free hand grabbed his waist and pulled him closer. He laughed. 

“First one is done. Give me the earring.” He nestled between her thighs as he pushed the metal into the hole. His knuckles brushed against her cheek as he fixed the back in. “See, looks nice.”

She turned to look in the mirror. Her ear was throbbing and stung but it did look nice. He tapped her leg.

“Otherside now.” He waved the needle over the flame again. “You can hold my shoulders if you need. 

“I’m not a child,” she said before resting a hand on his shoulder. He chuckled.

He didn’t give a warning that time and quickly stabbed the needle into her lobe. She gasped and dug her nails into his shoulder.

“Perfect.” He popped the other earring in for her. He brushed her hair behind her ears so she could see when she turned to look in the mirror. 

She smiled. She liked the way she looked with him behind her, his hands on either side of her legs. 

The oven started beeping.

“Come on. You need to eat,” He said, tapping her leg before leaving. 

“It’s still a little frozen.” He said, elbow-deep in the oven mixing up the pasta with a fork. “Give it ten more minutes.” 

Nina watched him. Peace had come over them like a layer of snow. They were playing house. He made her hot chocolate and now dinner. They’d sit and eat and he’d tell more dumb jokes but then they’d go and sleep in separate beds. 

She couldn’t think about it without her stomach churning. He’d be leaving soon. She saw her future ending like a road off a cliff. He wouldn’t follow, he couldn’t. She was just a mission to him. These little intimacies meant nothing, were nothing, just play. She looked at him and her eyes got heavy. She wanted to fall on the ground like a child and throw a tantrum. After all this, she would be left alone again in a cabin somewhere cold. 

“I’m going to make a call in to let Price know we made it. Dinner should be ready afterward.” He squeezed her shoulder as he walked past. His touch lingered like a burn, she could feel it immediately afterward and anytime she moved. 

“Bravo 7-1, how copy?” He sounded so severe in the other room. So stiff. “This is Bravo 7-1, do you copy?”

Something was wrong. She stood to the side, watching him try to get a response out of the radio. 

“He’s not responding,” she said. An unease fell over both of them. 

“No, he’s not.” He was already getting jittery. His jaw was tight, shoulders pulled back. He motioned for her to come over. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. His fingers dug into her arm like he was worried she was about to be taken from him. He was still staring at the radio, waiting for it to speak. 

There was a crackling. 

“Bravo 0-1, copy.” Price’s voice came through. John released her.

“We made it. Area’s secure. We’re both in one piece.”

“Good. Ghost, Gaz, and I will RV with you in a couple of days. You were being followed but you lost them after Chicago. Now we’re following them. Won’t be long now…Is she there with you?” John gave her the radio.

“Price?”

“They’ll all hang for this, Nina. I promise you.” He was softer with her but she’d heard too many promises to believe in any. 

“What’s going to happen to me? After all this.” He paused, longer than she wanted him to. 

“I...I don’t know, Nina. Laswell and I are trying to figure out a way to get you home but..”

“What home?” She interrupted. He didn’t deserve her anger thrown at him but he caught it anyway. “I don’t have a home. I don’t have anything. You know I didn’t even get to shut the fucking door when I left. I have been dragged, carried, and led across the world and I keep being told that I’m going to be okay and I’ll be safe but apparently that means leaving me alone in the fucking woods again!”

She shoved the radio back in John’s hand and stormed off to her bedroom. The guilt was already biting at her heels. She could hear Price call her name but she slammed the door to block him out. John’s voice murmured through the walls unintelligibly. 

She climbed into the bed and curled up, hugging her knees to her chest. She didn’t want to yell. She actually wanted to scream, not at Price or John, not at anything. Just scream till her lungs burned. Scream until it stopped hurting. Scream until she was eleven again and sleeping in her own bed with a mother and a baby brother. 

She bit down on her cheek. Short breaths in, shaking breaths out. She couldn’t get tears out if she tried and she didn’t want him to see her like that anyways.

There was a knock on the door. 

“Nina? Can I come in?” She didn’t respond. She didn’t want to see him. He’d just tell her he was leaving in a couple of days and that she’d be here until it all calmed down. She might be moved again and then after a couple of months moved again. Their little game of house would end and they’d never see each other again. He’d go off and probably get blown up in a country he’d never been to before and she’d be in a safe house watching it on the news. 

“I brought you dinner,” he cracked the door open. She could smell it, melted cheese, butter, and salt. He came around the bed and set it on the side table.

“Can we talk?” He asked, crouching down to be at eye level with her. She took a deep breath and moved backward on the bed so he could sit by her. His hand fell back on her shoulder as he sat.

“I’m staying, Nina. Not fucking leaving ya. Price isn’t happy I’m disobeying an order but I can’t fucking leave ya here.” He was shaking his head, his mouth a firm line. He was still talking himself into it. “I’ll sneak ya to my home in the duffle if I have to.”

She sat up and wrapped her arms around him in a sideways hug. She broke. A gasping sob threw itself out of her mouth. She backed away from him. She started hyperventilating. Her hands flew to her face trying to wipe any tears before he saw. 

“Nina, Nina. Look at me. C’mere.” He didn’t try to move her. He leaned over, covering her with his body. His arms were around her back and his mouth was against her forehead. “Nina. You’re okay. I’m right here. I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here.” 

She lifted her head to cry onto his shoulder. She was hot and shaky, her heartbreaking through her ribs. He kissed her temple. His hands rubbed up and down her back. 

“I’m right here, Neen. I’m right here.” 

Quiet open mouth sobs rocked through her. He was going to stay. He was going to stay with her. He wasn’t going to leave her alone. 

He cupped her face and brought her head up to look at him. He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. He kissed between her eyes.

“Is Price mad at me?”

“No…He actually said if they can get you back to England, you can live with him.”

“Really?” She almost didn’t believe him. Did Price care about her that much? 

“As long as you need.” He ran a hand over the back of her head. “You won’t be alone, Nina.” 

He held her till her tears dried, stroking her hair and holding her close. 

“You should eat before it gets cold.” He grabbed the bowl for her and kept his arm around her shoulder as she ate. 

“You need to eat too.”

“I will after you.” He ruffled her hair. “I’m a little surprised you haven’t cried before this. I’ve felt like it.”

“I was afraid too.”

“Why?” He sounded hurt when he spoke.

“The last time I cried was when I was eleven after my mom and brother died.”

“I’m so sorry, Neen.” 

She looked up at him and the words started flowing out. Talking about how her father never really liked her, about Price being her only friend at ten, how her life fell apart after the car accident, about her father’s desertion, moving to Kyrat, and growing up on her own. He listened, his head resting against hers as she spoke, nodding along. 

“All this started because I trusted someone I probably shouldn’t have. He was some CIA prick.”

“If he hurt you I’ll-”

“He’s dead. Price had to wipe his brain off my face.” She took another deep breath. “His name was Arthur. He’s the reason I had to leave Kyrat.”

“What did he do?”

“The men after me are part of some mercenary group and Arthur used me as bait.” John cursed under his breath at that. “They want my dad, I think. He never really explained it. He just said if I helped him, I could go home. They showed up at my house and… and… I killed them. I killed both of them.”

“Was that the first time you’ve killed someone?” His voice was low and full of comfort. 

She nodded weakly. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared. I hit knocked one out with a pan and had to strangle the other with a piece of rope. I shot them both afterward.” He was rubbing circles on her back, murmuring consolations in her ear. “Arthur showed up and was yelling and yelling and just dragged me to his jeep.”

“He had hoped that normal afternoon activity would allow us to cross the border more easily,” She continued. “Laswell promised us passage back to England but we had to cross the border into Nepal. Price was going to meet us on the other side. Some favor he owed her. It took longer than we thought and it was getting dark. We got ambushed and we were so close. So fucking close. He was driving one moment and then the next there was just blood everywhere. I had to climb on top of him to keep driving.”

“Jesus.”

“Price had to peel my fingers off the steering wheel. Ten pints doesn’t seem like a lot when looking at someone but then it’s in your shoes and it soaks into your socks and you can feel it between your toes as you press the gas. It soaks through your clothes and underwear to your skin. It sits in the bottom of the truck and sloshes around. It’s not just blood either, it’s pieces of someone.”

“I kn..know.” His voice cracked. His eyes were misty. She kissed his cheek, a tear slipped down between her lips and his skin. 

“I almost died in Chicago. That was after almost dying thirty-six hours earlier in Mexico.” He was confessing now too. He went into detail about Las Almas, Shadow Company, Phillip Graves, and their massacre. How after all that he was almost thrown from a skyscraper but was saved by his Lieutenant. How all this happened just over a month ago. 

“Did you cry?” She asked, taking his hand in hers. 

“Not when I’m awake.” She thought about the night in the motel when she woke up to see his body shaking and hear whimpering from him. He looked terrified when he woke. 

“Price kept trying to get me to cry. I think it bothered him a little that I was just blank about it all. When we landed in England I just sat in some grass on the base. He sat next to me and I said I was probably too scared to cry. ‘You’re still trying to survive, once you feel safe you’ll cry.’ Seemed dumb at the time.”

“Do you feel safe now?” He asked. His eyes were pleading, he wanted to be her safety.

“Yeah, I do.” She wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her head against his chest. “I’m still afraid of well, everything but here with you? I’m okay.”

He kissed the top of her head, his nose rubbing against her. 

“You know what I used to do when I got back from missions?”

“What?”

“I’d take my bike and I’d ride out into the country until I found a good spot and I’d just scream. Just scream until I couldn’t.”

“Did it work?”

“It did actually.” He laughed. “I could just release everything out there. Didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing or hearing me. I could just let go of everything. Sometimes I’d be crying at the end but I fucking felt better.”

“Can we try it?” 

“You want to scream?”

“Only if you do it with me.” 

“I think I can do that.” He pulled her to her feet. 

They bundled up, zipping up each other's jackets. Standing outside the front door. The moon lighting up the woods, making the snow glitter. Just the two of them standing in the cold, hands together. Behind them was all the pain and death that had followed them both to this cabin. Bloody prints that led them together to this house.

She screamed first. The cold air burned against her face and in her lungs. He started afterward. 

They screamed until their chest burned and their backs ached. Screaming into the darkness about all the people they lost, all the fear they had, all that they survived to get there. They screamed until their throats went raw and their fingers froze. 

She stood gasping for air, snow settling on her hair and lashes. Tears had frozen on both their faces. The snow had settled on his mohawk, leaving a light layer of white on top of his dark brown hair. She laughed and started brushing it off. He jumped away as snow fell onto his bare scalp.

“You trying to give me frostbite?” He said, shaking his head. 

“You wouldn’t be so cold if you had better hair.”

“Excuse me? You don’t like it?” He laid his hand on his chest in mock offense. “Back home, it’s the mohawk that wins them over.”

“Sure it does.” She rolled her eyes. 

“You being cheeky again?” He grabbed her around the waist. “Remember what happened last time?”

He started spinning around, lifting her feet off the ground. 

“I’m gonna do this till one of us gets sick and you’re the only one who’s eaten.” She was screaming in laughter, trying to push his arms away. 

“John, stop. It’s too slippery. You’re going to-”

His feet slid and they both came tumbling down into the snow. He climbed over her, moving her onto her back.

“You okay?”

She was laughing too hard to answer him. He was so close to her. She could see the scar on his chin, the snow that melted on his skin as soon as it landed, and the way his eyes were glossing over her face. 

She reached out and touched his cheek. She stopped laughing, her smile falling silent, replaced with a look of adoration. He laid his hand on top of hers. 

He was on top of her. Her feet were cold but he was keeping the rest of her warm. Her bottom lip started to tremble.

“You do that when you want to kiss me.”

“Do what?”

“Your lip.” He brushed his thumb over her lip. “Can I? Can I kiss you, Nina?”

She felt like they were in a snow globe, frozen in time before someone flipped them over again. She didn’t know how to tell him she’d never been kissed before. That for a long time this kind of intimacy seemed so far from her grasp. That until she met him she’d felt undesirable and had never desired herself. She wanted him though. She wanted to feel his skin under her and above her. She wanted to know what he tasted like, where all his scars were, she wanted to know him completely and carnally. The fear came back in a wave but smashed against the solidness of his gaze. He wanted her too, maybe as much as she did. 

She nodded. 

His lips were soft.

Tag List: @yeyinde @queen-ilmaree @yearningforsappho @mykneeshurt @gogh-with-the-flow

LMK if you want to be added 💗

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

Act Like He Doesn't Exist

Pairing - Childe x Fem!Reader

Warnings - NSFW 18+ ONLY, hate fucking, degredation, very minor dumbification, dollification if you squink really hard,

Word count - 3.6k

Other comments - We all know I had to come back with a bang and I think hate fucking fills that role. This was so much longer than I had intended it to be but oh my god I just started writing and couldn’t stop. I was originally gonna do this with Thoma cause I really want to write Thoma smut but like he’s too sweet :( he makes me :( if you guys have any idea how i would make a hate fucking fic with Thoma PLEASE let me know I want something like REAL kinky yall.

“Oh give me a break just once and fuck off will you?” Today did not differ from any other day in Teyvat; Childe was up your ass like always just trying to get under your skin. The Archons had to have put that ginger idiot on the planet purely to ruin your days, why else would you be forced to suffer through his incessant snide comments, and mocking remarks. This must’ve been a punishment for something you had done in your past life, an atonement for an unknown sin.

“Oh lighten up girly, you know I’m only joking. No need to get all sensitive now.” Childe’s condescending voice rang high in the tense air between you both, a thick feeling only the two of you could feel in the bustling streets of the Liyue market. Rage enveloped you as you had finally had enough of Childe’s ridiculously abhorrent behavior.

“You know what Childe, you’ve won. I’m not playing this stupid petty game where you consistently insult me behind the guise of a ‘joke’ and laugh when I’m too taken aback to respond. You’re fucked up dude. I don’t know where you get off on this or what I did to deserve this, but all I’ve done since the beginning was take it.” The free edge of your nails dug crescent moons into your palms as you clenched your fists into tight balls. You had taken a step towards him without noticing while your voice slowly raised in volume. Childe’s face had become unrecognizable, his usual shit eating grin long since dropped.

“Hey wait-” Childe’s voice began but it only made you angrier.

“Are you really so dense that you can’t even figure out what's going on?! Just leave me the fuck alone! It’s just like you to add insult to injury every time you somehow track me down through this giant city! Get a fucking life dude! Do you really have nothing better to do other than stalking me on the daily just to make me feel like shit?!” Your argument was garnering quite a bit of attention now, as your voice raised even higher. “You are a sad sad man. The next time I see your face you won’t have time to speak, my sword will have already been shoved through your throat. Now get the hell away from me.”

The skin on your face was bright red and burning with the anger from all this pent up frustration. You just couldn’t understand why this was happening to you. All motion had halted in the markets; every bystander’s attention now focused on the rapidly de-escalating fight. Your face scorched with embarrassment, because once again Childe successfully made a fool out of you and this time he didn’t even have to try; you just let him do it.

Your back was to Childe taking wide strides to desperately get away from him when a hand fell gently on your shoulder. You spun around expecting to see the man you were trying to get away from, but instead your resentful gaze fell on a much softer pair of golden eyes. You immediately changed your demeanor when you realized that it was Zhongli behind you; you couldn’t say you were surprised to figure out he heard the commotion as well.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” Zhongli’s soft eyes studied you for a moment as he waited for you to answer. Your throat felt tight as you opened your mouth, but any and all words were strangled down. Your head dropped and it was then when you noticed you had begun to cry, hot tears falling onto the pavement below. Your throat tightened even more as you struggled to stop the crying, it would only make things even more embarrassing for you.

“Let’s go somewhere a little more private and we will talk, is that alright (y/n)?” Zhongli’s deep voice rumbled through the quiet air. The bystanders were just starting to resume their activities, so your surroundings hadn’t yet gotten to full volume; which you were grateful for. You nodded, head still hung low as you felt the former Archon place his hand gently on the square of your back; guiding you to his favourite place for tea.

It didn’t take long to be seated in the normally fully booked restaurant when you were with someone such as Zhongli. You were sat down in a private area separated from most of the restaurant, a place that was usually used for business meetings. You were both silent except for the small moment Zhongli told the waitress your drink order, falling back into silence as you both waited for the drinks to arrive. Once your tea was quietly set down in front of you along with the teapot so you both could refill your own drinks to avoid being interrupted, you took a long sip and began to speak.

“I’m sorry for the outburst earlier, I didn’t mean to make such a commotion. I hope I didn’t interrupt your day too badly.” Your eyes were red and puffy from the silent crying you had done on the way here. You suffered from some pretty bad vocal fry from all the yelling you had done just fifteen minutes prior. Zhongli let out a quiet chuckle in response.

“You did not interrupt anything my dear, I was merely on a stroll through to shops when I heard everything. I assume things with you and Childe still haven’t yet been resolved?” You sighed, fingers rising to rub at your temples, a headache already forming.

“If anything they’ve gotten worse. I truly don’t understand why he treats me the way he does. He always says he’s joking but they’re just such specific insults that he knows will upset me. I’ve told him to knock it off multiple times and yet he just doesn’t seem to stop.” You paused to take another sip of your tea, throat becoming a little too raspy at the moment. “I seriously believe he hates me, which I know shouldn’t bother me, I mean I should hate him too! But it’s just… I really wanted him to like me.” Tears began welling up in your eyes again, threatening to spill once more. Your face burned hot like it once had, but instead of anger it was just embarrassment.

“I do not believe he hates you (y/n). I don’t think anyone could truly hate you. I just believe he might be too snarky for his own good.” You laughed pitifully at this, which made Zhongli sigh before laying his hand on your clenched one. “I understand that you can only take so much. I believe you should act as though you don’t know he’s there. If he tries to engage with you, simply walk away or flat out ignore his advances. It may be hard but he should tire himself out and give up.” Your tears had stopped as you listened carefully to Zhongli’s words. Act like he doesn’t even exist. Maybe that was the key, maybe then he would just leave you alone. You would do anything at this point to get him off your back.

“Thank you Zhongli, I think I’ll do just that.” Zhongli’s relaxed smile lit up his face, the corners of his eyes wrinkled just a little. He nodded once before taking a sip of his tea. After the heavy had gotten out of the way, you had spent the rest of the time just chatting with your friend. He knew how to get your mind off things. Before you knew it the sun was setting over the harbor, the sky now painted with gorgeous oranges and pinks before fading into the inky black that was engulfing the sky.

The golden light illuminated the streets and bounced off buildings as the two of you stepped out into the open air. Everything was much more calm than they were hours before and the air had cooled down now that the sunlight was fleeting. Zhongli always had this habit of holding his arm out for you to take, which you always did. It was peaceful as you walked around watching the sun fade out of sight and bless the other half of the world with its presence. It was too peaceful in fact, something was going to give.

“Hey (y/n). Uh, I need to talk to you.” Childe’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard at that moment shattering your evening with Zhongli like a piece of glass. Zhongli’s stride didn’t falter one bit though, almost as if he was pulling you along. The words he had told you earlier repeating in your head; ‘act like he doesn’t exist’. Zhongli continued on with the story of his past while you nodded occasionally, or made a comment; walking right past Childe in the process. You couldn’t believe just how easy that had been.

Childe stood there stunned, watching your forms disappear into the distance. Had you really just out right ignored him? And what was with holding onto Zhongli’s arm? He grit his teeth at the possible prospect of you and him being together. He didn’t understand why but it just didn’t sit right with him. He was gonna get you to talk to him, he had to. He knew he had pushed you too far and he wanted to apologize but you need to talk to him dammit.

The days began to pass by much quicker now, as you weren’t dreading running into the man you didn’t want to name. He continued to try and talk to you but you had learned how to avoid him. You were with Zhongli almost 24/7 now unless either of you two were busy which also aided in dodging the red head. Childe no longer wore his usual smile, it had been replaced by a scowl that was permanently etched into his face. You found yourself a little upset but the obvious change in his demeanor. You couldn’t place why but you had begun to miss that infamous smirk.

Today, Zhongli was busy with the funeral parlor and you had already finished all the commissions you could; which left you with quite a bit of free time. You knew it would only be a matter of time until Childe found you but you weren’t worried about the encounter. And just how you had predicted you saw that familiar red hair bobbing and weaving through the streets towards you. Something was off though, there was a look in Childe’s eye this time. It wasn’t just the scowl, it was the angry wrinkle that found its place in between his eyebrows, or the way his eyes pierced through your stopping you where you stood. It took him no time to get to you before he grabbed your hand and continued walking.

“Eh- what the hell are you doing Childe?! Let me go now!” Your protest fell on deaf ears. Nothing in him changed in the slightest bit as he continued to storm through streets and alleys. This continued until your eyes landed on a familiar looking bank.

“Why are you taking me here? This is stupid Childe just let me go.” Childe’s head whipped around to look at you for a moment, blazing glare meeting your just as hostile gaze.

“You’re going to talk to me. Whether you like it or not, we are going to talk.” Your eyebrows creased in confusion for a moment. Why was he so worked up about you not talking to him? Sure you knew he found it fun to insult you but you never thought he was this caught up on it.

You two passed many Fatui agents, most of them on guard, until you got to what you assumed to be his office. Only then did he finally let you go, opening the door for you to step in. He followed in right after, closing his door with a loud thud before turning around to look at you.

“Why have you been ignoring me? You’re acting like a child with the way you just walk away from me anytime I approach you. And what’s with you and the old guy? Since when did you two become a thing?” Childe’s tone was hostile as he approached you slowly. The irritation of this whole confrontation was already getting to you.

“Last time I checked, what goes on between me and Zhongli is none of your concern. And I’m the one acting like a child? I’m not the one who would purposefully seek someone out just to make them feel like shit. Do not ever try to point my response to you, onto me being childish. You are the only reason I’m avoiding you.” You punctuated your sentence with a tsk, moving away from Childe and beginning your way to the door. Once again he grabbed onto your wrist and this time he pushed your back up against the wall boxing you in with his large frame. Your eyes were blown out wide in shock as to what just happened.

“You are not going anyway (y/n). Where were you going to go? Back to Zhongli’s to go fuck? You two look stupid together.” Your mouth was already beginning to open with intentions to angrily retaliate, but you were interrupted when Childe’s hot mouth pressed hard into yours. Before you could do anything Childe pulled away, heated glare shooting directly into your core. You two stared at each other for a moment before you pushed forward and trapped his lips in a heated kiss again. The kiss was feverish and angry, harsh with teeth biting each other's lips.

“I wanted to apologize but you just kept running away from me. Seeing you with Zhongli just made everything worse. You’d look so much better walking with me. We work so well together when we’re not fighting and you know it. What does he have that I don’t?” Childe’s hand had left the side of your head and instead tangled his fingers in your hair before gripping. You let out a shocked gasp as he pulled your hair to force your head back to expose more of your neck.

“How… How was I supposed to know you were going to apologize? And Zhongli helped keep my mind off you.” A dark chuckle left Childe in response, his teeth grazing your neck lightly; a warning. Your body felt so hot and flushed.

“I’m always gonna be on your mind. You’re mine (y/n), do you understand me? Zhongli’s got nothing on this.” His mouth latched onto your neck, leaving bruises and bitemarks in his wake. You covered your mouth with your hand to muffle the noises that were already coming out of you as Childe’s knee shoved your thighs apart. Your free hand rose to grip onto Childe’s shoulder, everything beginning to overwhelm your senses.

“Childe please.” Your voice was shaky as you spoke. Everything felt so intense, you were nervous your legs were going to give out. Once again Childe snickered before releasing your head. His arms came around your waist before his hands landed on your ass. He nudged you upwards as if signaling for you to jump, which you followed. He caught you and you wrapped your legs around him to stabilize yourself. You could feel Childe’s hard on straining against his pants. Within a couple strides, you were placed on his desk.

“Are you sure we should be doing this here? There are guards directly outside.” You bit your already swollen lip anxiously.

“Oh? You scared you’re going to be too loud, doll?” You glared at him in response to his tease before ducking in to take your lips. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, one of your hands raking its way through his hair; you hadn’t noticed until now, just how soft his hair was. Childe was getting impatient though, and it didn’t help how his dick ached from how hard it was.

“You know what, fuck this. I need to fuck you now. I need to see your face when I shove my cock into you.” He pulled away from you for a moment to tug his pants and underwear down. You had begun to do the same, hiking up your skirt and pushing your panties down. After you had finished your leaned back and spread your legs wide for Childe to see. That signature smile had found its way back onto his face as he looked you over. He lined himself up with you and looked into your eyes once more just to make sure this is really something you wanted. He may be an asshole but he’s not a douchebag.

Slowly he entered you, you wet pussy enveloping him. You both groaned in unison, before Childe finally bottomed out. He gave you a moment to adjust to the sudden intrusion, appreciating the way he fit between your tight walls perfectly.

“God (y/n), you feel so good. I never thought you would feel this fucking good. You were made for my dick to be pressed deep in you.” You flushed as hit words hit you in your core. There was still a part of you that didn’t want this to go that easily for him. You wanted to make him pay for the way he made you feel for so long. In a flash you wrapped your strong legs around his waist, trapping his body against yours with no space to move.

“Then I guess you should just sit like this huh?” You giggled as Childe’s eyes turned dark once again, biting his lower lip. He tried but failed to move an inch, forcing your grip on him to tighten even more. You could feel his dick twitching inside of you as he lost patience faster and faster.

“Oh you wanna play like that you little slut? You wanna act like you’re the one in control of this little situation right now?” Childe’s hand was back in your hair, gripping it forcefully and pulling your head back. The sudden hit of pain on your scalp caused your grip on his hips to falter. Childe took this opportunity to pull his hips back and slam back into you. You gasped before choking out a loud moan. Childe continued with a punishing speed, biting at your neck once again.

“God you are just- oh fuck! You are just so fucking annoying Childe!” More moans spilled from you and Childe borderline growled into your neck.

“Funny how you’re saying this now when I’m in the middle of giving you a fucking of a lifetime doll.” He punctuated his sentence with a particularly sharp thrust into the spot that made you see stars. You pulled Childe’s chest down to yours as you arched you back. “Yeah that’s exactly what I thought you slut.” You buried your face into the spot where his shoulder met his neck, moving his shirt out of the way, before biting down hard. Childe sucked in a sharp breath before fucking into you even harder.

All this commotion was causing his desk to shake and shudder from all the force; the old wood creaking in protest of what was happening on top of it. Your walls were beginning to flutter around his cock, as he twitched deep within you. The room was filled with the sound of your moans, the slapping of wet skin, and the creaking of the old desk underneath you guys. It was all so vulgar and filthy but you were in such a blissed out state you physically couldn’t care about whether or not people could hear you guys.

“Are you going to cum for me baby? You gonna show everyone in this place what’s going on behind the doors? Come on baby cum with me.” Childe’s voice had become much more gentle despite the vulgar context. You could only respond with loud broken moans as you got closer and closer to cumming. Your nails were scratching against his shirt threatening to rip it to pieces. With a few more hard thrusts both of you were tumbling over the edge in each other's grasp. Moans falling from both of your mouths as you guys shuddered, letting the waves of pleasure overtake you. After a couple of minutes the both of you had finally calmed down enough to allow Childe to pull out of you. He broke off of you, only to come back with a couple tissues to help clean you up.

“What a gentleman.” You still had enough energy in you to get off a sarcastic comment, but it was undermined by the soft smile on your face and the gentle glow around you. Childe chuckled as he shook his head, before finishing up and throwing the tissues away. Both of you redressed yourselves in a comfortable silence before looking at each other once more.

“Listen, I was serious when I said I was going to apologize. I know I pushed you too far and I can be a little too much at times but trust me when I say I’m never being serious. I’ll dial it back from now on but you still gotta expect some cheeky comment to come out.” You smiled, shaking your head and wrapping your arms around Childe’s neck.

“I know Childe. Thank you for apologizing. I’m sorry I blew up at you. And seriously there is nothing between Zhongli and I. He is just a really good friend. He backed you up ya know.” You could hear a chuckle rumble low in his chest. He wrapped an arm around your waist and escorted you out of the building. None of the guards said anything but you could see the glances they made at one another. Childe really wasn’t that bad of a guy.

[bangtangalicious]

fuck me forever | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: smut fuckboy!jungkook bestfriend!jungkook fwb!au college!au

summary: You’re busy studying but kookie wants to play. Really bad. 

warnings: sexual coercion, whiny jungkook...like really whiny. he is OBSESSED with reader’s tits, toxic behavior, manipulation, begging, body worship. a lot of body worship, praise kink, dirty talk, potentially dubcon(?) idk jungkook is being super problematic in this but its subtle, unprotected sex, lots of cursing 

word count: 2k

It had been a busy weekend, filled with late night study sessions, numerous coffee runs, and barely any time to breathe. You reclined on the living room couch of your apartment, typing away busily on your laptop, back against the armrest and legs out in front of you. Your feet rested comfortably in the lap of your best friend, Jeon Jungkook, who absentmindedly was caressing up and down your calves. You didn’t mind. Jungkook and you were quite touchy with one another when it was just the two of you. He was like that though. The campus fuckboy. You knew that neither of you were in a place to be in a proper relationship, and that was perfectly okay with you.  

Jungkook sighed, placing his own computer away. “Let’s take a break” He whined. You ignored him, too engrossed in finishing your assignment. If you had looked up you would have seen him pouting like a baby. He slowly slid under your arms so that he was laying on top of you as you continued to work, his head fitting perfectly in the crook of your neck. His arms wrapped around you tightly as he nuzzled his face into you and then turned to see what you were working on.

“Take a break y/n”

You chuckled.

“I’m on a roll right now Kook. Don’t interrupt me” Jungkook sighed. He knew there was no convincing you. He continued to remain cuddled up against you as more time passed. He began getting impatient, eager for your attention to fall on him.

“You’ve been working so hard” He mumbled into you softly. “I’m really proud of you” This made you smile. It wasn’t something you heard often, so you couldn’t help but feel elated at his words. You stopped typing so that your hand could gently run through Jungkook’s hair as you stared at the screen in front of you.

“Thanks Kook” You took a deep breath before returning to your grind.

Jungkook pressed his lips ever so slightly against your collar, barely leaving a kiss. It tickled, sending almost a shock through your body. His lips were soft and wet, and felt scorching against your exposed skin.

“I know you’re busy, but can I play with your tits?”

You weren’t sure you had heard him right.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me” You felt him smirk against you. “Please, I won’t do anything I just wanna squeeze them”

You sighed. You reasoned that it wouldn’t pose as too much of a distraction for you, and if it would keep him occupied until you finished, you were willing to indulge him.

“Okay” Not a second was waisted before Jungkook’s hand left your waist and harshly groped your breast, the fabric of your shirt crumpling with his touch. He moans softly, so softly that he didn’t think you heard him. But you did. You definitely did.

He props himself up so that he can use both his hands to massage your breasts, laying across you. You peer over his shoulder, attempting to continue focusing. He drags the collar of your shirt down the center of your neck with his finger, watching as the fabric reveals your cleavage slowly, before allowing him access to your bra. He keeps your shirt pulled down as he traces the lacey detail. His hands become softer now, as he uses his thumbs to rub circles on your nipples. He wants nothing more than to suck them. He wants you to suffocate him with them. He wants to feel them squashed around his dick as he pounds into you.

He instead slips his hands under the bra to feel the hot plump skin beneath them. He lets out much louder moan, not even caring that you heard it. He began playing with them roughly again, squeezing them tight, allowing his fingers to stretch and really get a handful of you. He moved them around, wanting to feel something more. His movements were almost painful, but you tried not to pay attention. What broke you was when you glanced down to see his big doe eyes peering up at you from between them, hands tight around your chest like he was holding on for his life, his eyes blasted with lust and yearning.

“Having fun?” You choked slightly as you spoke as his ministrations continued, trying to appear unaffected. He chuckled.

“I love them so much, fuck you have the best tits y/n. I think about them all the time”

“I always took you for more of an ass guy”

Jungkook finally stopped, getting up to put your laptop away. You didn’t try to stop him. You knew you weren’t going to be able to work now. He then dove back into you, this time his hands finding their way behind you and harshly kneading your ass, pushing you up into him slightly. You felt his hardening length press into your stomach ever so slightly, making your heart race. He began licking the top of your chest.

“I love them both.” He groaned, the vibration of his voice in your chest making your legs twitch.  “You’re so perfect. You’re so fucking perfect oh my god” He latched his mouth onto your breast over the fabric of your bra, using his teeth and tongue to get around the fabric so he could suckle you directly.

Now it was your turn to moan, heat pooling between your legs as you unconsciously bucked your hips. His tongue was running rampant against you, the hot sensation driving you insane. He opened his mouth even wider, pulling more of you into his mouth and sucking harshly. His other hand snaked down your body to find your shorts, beginning to pull them down.

With a pop, he left your breast, making you whine at the sudden hit of cold air on your nipples. He helped you undress quickly, then sat upright for a moment, just staring down at you, his eyes moving over your naked body like a vulture. He licked his lips.

“I wanna fuck you” He exhaled.

“Really, I couldn’t tell” Your sarcasm wasn’t cute to him. Not right now. And that only made you want to tease him more. Still fully clothed, he lowers himself back onto you and looks you straight in the eye, face hovering barely inches fro yours.

“Please y/n. Please. Fuck. This is all I want. I don’t want to do anything else. Fuck studying, fuck everything, I just wanna fuck you. Over and over and over again until I can’t anymore. I want to die buried in your sweet sweet pussy. I want you to ride my cock forever” He was panting almost feverishly. His words, while turning you on, were somewhat concerning, but you knew he was probably just really horny.

“Jungkook…not now…I really need to finish my paper. You said you would just play with my tits” You did want to fuck him. But the logical part of your brain was telling you to save rewards for when you deserved them, and right now, you had other things you needed to take care of that were more important than Jungkook’s raging hormones.

Jungkook looked like he was either about to start crying or punch something. His jaw clenched at your refusal, knowing that he had to listen but wanting you so incredibly bad.

“Okay” He exhaled backing away. “Yeah, um” His chest was heaving and you could see sweat forming at his forehead. He tried to look anywhere but at you. He swallowed, trying to get his heart rate to calm down.

But he just couldn’t do it. He pulled his shirt off and wrapped his arms around you again. “Please. Can I just…I’ll be super fast, can I just…a little?” His sentences were incoherent. It was turning you on how bad he wanted you. “Five minutes? Pleaseeee” He whined. You sighed, looking at the boy in front of you. His toned muscles not helping your decision making.

“Y/n I might actually die. Like I will explode if I don’t get to shove myself inside of you right now. Please please please”

You say nothing, moaning slightly as Jungkook kicks off his sweats so you can feel the direct contact of his tip against your wet folds.

“Baby…fuck…you’re so wet baby, I know you want to. I…I’ll be quick okay. Just let me get off this one time”

“Jungkook” You moan again as his hand guides his tip to make circles in your clit.

Something in him snaps, and the next thing you know his hand is around your neck and his dick is entering you.

“Jungkook! What the fuck!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry” Jungkook was panting. He filled you up completely until he was flush against you. He stilled for a moment, fearfully looking in your eyes for a reaction.

“I’m not a fucking toy you can’t just put your dick inside me because you’re feeling horny” You snapped at him.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry…I just…” He really didn’t have anything to say. You realized then that you were wrong. To him, you were like a toy. Someone there to pound into when he felt the need.

And somehow.

You kinda liked that.

You pushed his hair behind his ear and cupped his cheek softly. His eyes widened as you kissed him softly.

“It’s okay. Take your time. Fuck me as long as you want to”

“A…are you sure?”

You nodded, and to make sure he believed you, you pulled his face down in between your breasts. He groaned, gripping your ass again and starting to move in and out of you slowly. He made sure to savor every second he was in your dripping cunt.

“Do you know” He exhales, “do you even know how fucking HOT you are? Do you know what you do to me?” The obscene sounds of his slow grinding filled the room, harmonizing with both of your soft moans. Your nails scratched against his back as you tilted your head back, basking in the feeling of the way his cock goes in and out and in and out. Jungkook reaches back up to cover your  mouth with his. Kissing you tenderly, like he had all the time in the world.

He breaks away just to gaze at you, stilling his movements. You furrow your brows in confusion. His thumb traces the side of your face as his eyes gleam with adoration.

“I love seeing you like this y/n” He carefully slides out to sit up, kneeling above your body, gazing at your every crevice. “How did I get so lucky” He whispered more to himself than anything.

He stokes himself with one hand while the other finds your clit, driving you to your edge. “I’m gonna cum on your tits. I’m gonna cum all over you because you’re mine. Fucking goddess, you’re the hottest girl in the world. I could just” He lets out an aggressive moan, his hands moving faster, “So fucking pretty. So fucking hot holy shit” He’s going as fast as he can now, words falling apart as he whines towards his release, “So fuck pretty fuck all mine” Just when you think he’s about to cum all over you he shoves himself back into you thrusting furiously.

“Jungkook!” You scream. You weren’t on the pill, and he very much did not have a condom on. “Stop”

“No…no…fuck…you’re so hot. You’re so hot y/n please please. I…I love you…please I need you so bad. Let me please…say it…tell me its okay. tell me you want my cum”

You were so shocked and confused, but his thrusting was preventing you from thinking clearly.

Just give in You think to yourself. You’ll like it more if you stop fucking thinking so much

As if he hears your thoughts, he slows down to a stop and looks at you. “If you really want me to pull out I will” His eyes looked so sincere that you couldn’t possibly deny him. You shook your head.

“You’re right…it’s okay…it’s probably fine”

Jungkook paused, as if a realization just hit him and his demeanor shifted entirely.

“Are you sure?”

You nod.

“Do you like it? Do you feel good?”

You nod. He strokes your face again, tracing your lips before biting him with his own. “Mmm” He moans into your mouth loudly as he hands push your legs up around his waist. “So fucking sweet. I can’t get enough of you” He starts making small thrusts, but forceful ones. It hurt but it felt so good at the same time. He doesn’t leave your lips for a second, as he continued to moan dirty things straight into you.

“You feel so good. So damn good. You don’t even know how many guys would kill for this. Best.” His thrusts get harsher with every word, “Pussy. I’ve. Ever. Fucked. My. Sexy. Little. Whore. All. Mine. Could. Fuck you. Forever.” His words speed up hectically, his body losing control as both of you arrive at your peaks, “FUCK, baby baby baby” He kisses your lips with a smack, “Say it’s mine baby. Say it’s only for me. Only I can fuck you like this.” He cries out in ecstasy. Seeing him so fucked out and gone turns you on and you feel your orgasm wash over you, pussy clenching down tightly, causing him to yelp. “Oh my godddd” You finally notice the way your bead is creaking loudly under Jungkook’s loud moans. His cum shoots inside you, filling you up in a way you had never experienced before. He drops down onto you, his arms on either side of your head and his face in your neck, softly nibbling.

“That was so good” He can barely even get his words out through his heavy breaths. His cock is still inside you, “You’re incredible” He kisses you again, softly, adoringly.

“Kook?”

“Mmhm” He answers between kisses.

“Do you like me?”

“Of course I do baby” He murmurs, clearly not taking much mind to your questions.

“No like, you kept saying I’m yours and things like that” He pauses to look at you.

“You are mine” He kisses your forehead, “I care about you. You know that. But I’m not proud of who I am. And I can’t drag you down with me. God, I would fuck you forever and ever if I could y/n. I would love you, I...I do...but I can’t. I’m pathetic. You deserve better” He sighed. Your heart wrenched. Looking at the boy in front of you now, those comforting eyes who were always there. Your heart swelled with emotion as you realized that maybe there was something more here.

“Do it” You barely whispered, causing Jungkook to tremble at the tone of your voice.

“What..?”

“Fuck me again. And again. Until we can’t stand”

masterlist

[bay-did-nothing-wrong]

Brought up well (Donatello x Female!Reader)

Summary: Donnie remembers his manners.

Word count: 1895

Genre: Pure Smut

Notes: I know, O know, I've been gone for a while, and I have, like, a bajillion requests, but this has been on my mind for a while so... Here! I will come back to writing as soon as I can but until then, I hope this will do.

Heated kisses and soft touches spread warm tremors all over your system, your breaths were quick and shallow to compensate for the pounding of your heart, as quiet, timid sounds left both you and your partner.

His thigh, from its position between your knees shoved into your center, perfectly hitting it, shooting electricity all over you.

"Donnie!" you mewled, out of breath, as your hot lips slapped agains his cooler ones, once more to show him instead of saying just how much you cherish him.

His unzipped khaki pants slipped lower and lower down his hips the more you shuffled in his lap, the more you rub his thigh between your legs, though you'd grown impatient and it was time you stopped playing around.

One of your hands left his neck to trail down the hard plates of his plastron, down over what looked like a killer six-pack, slowly, languidly, dragging your nails over the hard surface, feeling a soft audible vibration under your fingertips. Your fingers reached the rough fabric of his pants, down his briefs, lower still.

"Aah, babe"' his knee jumped again, his muscled thigh rubbing into your soaking panties once more. Thank god you'd forgone pajamas that night.

The warm, soft skin, softer than the rest of his body, under your hand made your mouth water.

His breathing lost all rhythm and meter, his hands on your hips now squeezed and kneeded, seemingly unable to control themselves. And the sounds he was making were making your insides melt.

"O-hooo, comet! Just like tha-aaahh!"

He sought you out, looking for stress-relief, and you were more than happy to provide it to him.

Your wrist moved your hand rhythmically, head to base, a smidge lower and back up, and the noises were intensifying as your mouth made busy at his neck, truly overloading his senses.

You wanted him to be well-satisfied but also get some sleep, so in between your lust-ridden thoughts, the need for efficiency made itself known.

Slight squeeze. Tug. Head. Base. Up. Down. Up. And again.

"Nnnhhh..." he had lost the ability to produce words, that usually meant he was close, that was your que to stop but before you could, "Mmhhh, (Y/N)!"

Hot.

Sticky.

Fuck.

Maybe you were a bit too efficient.

As he calmed down, and you sat up and pulled your hand out of his pants, you could see the panic start to settle on his face.

"Oh, my god, (Y/N), I am so sorry, I..." you could swear be would be blushing if he was capable.

You felt laughter bubbling but couldn't let it out, lest he take it the wrong way. He was too adorable for this world. Sure, strong, and brilliant and super sexy most of the time, but adorable too.

"Baby, it's fine." he seemed confused by that for whatever reason, you'd told him your expectations were low before him, "I take it as a compliment." you giggled, and yes, it did feel like a compliment, when this well-put together, sometimes stoic man lost his composure to you.

Some of his shame seemed to simmer down but the residue of it was still visible, he refused to make eye contact, the downwards tilt of his cupids-bow lips.

This won't do.

"Donnie, it's fine!" you stressed, grabbing the back his neck so he will look at you, "It happens! There's nothing to be ashamed of!"

"But you..." he either didn't know how or didn't want to finish that sentence for a reason, but as your eyes followed his to the wet patch on his pant leg, you caught his meaning.

Yep, that's an issue, but you could take care of yourself

"I'm fine, Don. I won't explode if I don't cum in the next few hours. And then," your fingertips dragged over the skin just above his plastron, "there's always time in the morning."

His eyes shot to yours immediately after. There was something else in those endless pits of gold, that wasn't there before. There was something raw and wild.

His hands on your hips, tightened around your skin, and a sudden vertigo hit your senses.

And you were on your back.

"No, comet." his lips trailed dizzyingly over your scorching skin, his large rough fingers rubbing into your waist, intensifying your need, "I've been brought up well." snap, there goes another pair of panties, but you could care less, "To show my gratitude."

Oh, fuck.

Even his breath on the base of your neck felt electric, his hands gliding over your thigh were flint to your inner world, waiting for a force of nature to level it with the earth.

Words were no longer needed between you, nothing you said would be coherent, and nothing he could say would be necessary. It was just your bodies talking now.

The thin hot shirt you were wearing was promptly removed, so was your bra and underwear, though you didn't much care how.

All that was left was the hot air in the room and Donnie's cool hands over your scorching skin.

There was an instinct in you to hold him close, though you somehow found it in you to suppress it. You wanted to see what he would do. How he would act when unconstrained. After all, it was with you that he could be boldly, entirely, truly himself, and there was no interest in you to stifle that boldness.

Wet, well-kissed lips trailed over your clavivles, down the notch in the middle, lower still between your breasts, where his tongue peeked out once or twice.

"Tease. " you giggle breathlessly.

"Game recognising game." he chuckled into your skin, hot puffs of air hitting you like a hailstorm.

His large hands finally, started sliding up your increasingly hot skin from your waist, up your sides, soft and gentle as if handling a fine work of art, over the sides of your ribcage and eventually covered your breasts.

Your back arched on its own accord, your hands jumping to the back of his neck, in desperate need to hold onto something.

"I've got you." he whispered into your skin, his thick fingers pinching both your nipples, hardly gentle but not painful.

He knew you well.

Suddenly his warmth was all gone, and you were left to the chilly air in the room.

Eyes shooting open, without realising they'd shut, you look over you - nothing.

A pinch at your inner thigh startles you, you look down and there he was, the smug bastard, with his head bowed between your thighs, quickening breath falling over the skin of your tummy and tickling the skin there.

You were going to ask how, but you knew the answer - he's a ninja.

You'd usually give him all the privacy he needed, he was shy sometimes but there was something different about that night, something far more raw and primal in him, perhaps the need to prove himself, that made you yearn for the sight of him there. With no thoughts in your head, just bare instinct, you grabbed at the messy bed around you until your hand landed on a pillow, which you pulled behind your back to prop you up.

Those same silky wet lips left a small path of kisses from your knee down towards your center, but not fully there, as you got ready for the night of a lifetime.

"Comfy?" he asks, voice muffled by your skin, as his eyes traveled up your trembling naked body.

"Very."

No sooner had you said that, his face was buried in your slit. A gasp of surprise startled your lungs as a soft kiss landed on your labia.

Then his tongue peaked out, so gentle it almost tickled. Then again and again, almost going in as your breaths quickened with every passing second. Then again, finally passing the barrier, the thick appendage shoving into you and pulling out at a speed you could hardly imagine.

And the sight of him, leaning over you, tongue-deep in your pussy, with a face of pure serenity, was mesmerising. He seemed so calm, so in-the-zone that just looking at him could make you cum on the spot.

One of your hands trailed down your neck, to one of your breasts, tweaking a hard nipple, pulling slightly, till a whine split from your throat, then slowly torturously sliding down your stomach to your clit.

You were just about to press on it softly, but a large hand pinned yours to your stomach, Donnie's eyes quickly training in yours.

His other hand, and it's dexterous fingers slid all the way up to your neck, up your jaw, to press at your lips.

Fuck.

Your lips split to take in his thick rough digit, licking, sucking on it, meanwhile the heat was building in your core, your muscles tightening and and clenching on empty, as soft whines and moans muffled into the pad of his thumb.

"Fuck, dove." he whispered into your slick skin, he sounded strained too. Your eyes opened to be greeted with the sight of him yet again, though you saw he'd grown tense, his breathing came in puffs around your center, as he relentlessly fucked you with his tongue.

His thumb pulled out of your mouth and dragged over the peaks of your breasts, before pressing down on the center of your pleasure.

Electric waves shot through your system, your legs cramping around his neck and the top of his shell.

"Donnie!" you cry, recklessly shouting his name into the air for anyone to hear.

"'m here, comet." his voice fell into your core, as his thumb started drawing small rhythmic circles into your sensitive bud.

Your back became an impossible arch and the sounds he pulled from you were truly obscene.

Just a little more.

"Donnie!" you whine, powerless to his assault on your senses.

"I know."

With no warning, his rough pad on your clit tripled it's speed, the shock of it pulling another scream from you, as the last air in your lungs left you. His movements were so fast and somehow gentle enough, they brought tears to your eyes.

So close

Just a little more.

"Aaah!"

Snap.

The muscles in your legs and stomach contracted, pulling clenching together, caging him close to you, so he could witness the results of his labor from up close.

Your lungs pulled and pushed sporadically trying to get a hold of themselves, your heart had stopped completely and your voicebox had gone fully silent the moment your jaw dropped, once you reached your peak.

It took a minute for your muscles to release their vice-like grip on him, and once they did you slumped back into your pile of pillows, boneless, spent, satisfied.

You would have loved to see him in that moment but you could not compel your eyes to open, though you did eventually feel him move from between your legs, and then warm, strong arms surrounded your waist, and pulled you to lay on his strong plastron in your stomach.

A large hand ran over your hair, smoothing it back, out of your face, then disappeared for a bit, and then a blanket pulled over your back.

"Hope your dad didn't teach you that."

.

.

.

tagsgsgsgsgsg

@mysticboombox @go-shameless-weeb @aurora-the-kunoichi @shadow-ninjas @turtle-babe83 @tmntspidergirl   @mikeyshulagirl   @angelicdavinci @remmushound @raynnawrites @thecci @redskii4k @lalipopluvxoxo @thatonegothicgirl @samyp05 @threepupsinapuddle @multifandomqueen2002 @turtlesbythebay

[divine-mistake]

there is comfort in this cage, to kiss you the way you visit my mind

Summary: His eyes, intense and icy blue, pierce yours through the reflection. “You own me, my love,” he says, but the smoldering look he gives you leaves you weak and wanting. “I am but yours to command.”

Characters: Loki/(f)Reader

Warnings: 18+ (smut), strong language, soft sub!Loki, porn without plot, vaginal penetration, face-sitting, woman riding, body worship, a hint of angst but mostly just sin, Loki is still a Dom in the end, established relationship

Word Count: 4616

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I really like the idea that Loki views submission as a form of trust and devotion, and while he isn't much of a switch, he would allow the reader to command him in order to prove his love of her. Born of trauma? Probably, but it's something I definitely had fun exploring for him. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

main masterlist | AO3

“I have kneeled to no one,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, lips brushing the delicate skin. Shivers wrack down your spine, igniting goosebumps in trails down your bare arms. “But for you, darling? For you, I would do anything.”

You aren’t sure if it’s his words or if it’s the shelter his hands provide that brings heat to your face as he finds the curve of your waist, palms resigned to their fate at the flare of your hip where his fingers spin silk out of your skin. The fine hairs there raise—his touch like static.

His nose draws a line down your neck, tracing the tendon there. “I think you quite like that idea, my love.”

“What?” you manage to say between breaths as Loki’s lips, soft and cool against your warm skin, meeting the juncture of your shoulder where he’s tattooed bites and bruises before. His teeth plunge into your flesh, your head rolling back until Loki catches it in his hand, fingers digging into your scalp for a moment too long before he releases.

His tongue soothes the wound. “The idea that you could control me. That you could command me to kneel at your feet and I would kiss them. That you hold a power over me that stretches beyond sex, beyond love, beyond souls.”

Blunt nails nearly piercing your jaw, Loki turns your head until you face the mirror, forcing you to look. You look positively ravaged and yet all your clothes are still on—your body draped over him like a heavy curtain, knees turned in and barely holding your weight. One of Loki’s arms holds your waist, propping you up against him, your toes grazing the carpeted floor.

His eyes, intense and icy blue, pierce yours through the reflection. “You own me, my love,” he says, but the smoldering look he gives you leaves you weak and wanting. “I am but yours to command.”

You suck in a gasp, trying to twist in his hold to face him, but Loki refuses to let you.

“Command?” You stumble over the word, blinking slowly, lashes heavy. “What—What do you mean?”

“Tell me, darling,” he whispers. “I belong to no one else, and will not cede to anyone like this but you. So tell me. Command me,” he urges, softer this time.

Your words are shaky. “Prove it.”

And, as though you cast magic upon him, Loki’s fingers ease their grasp on your face and he relaxes his grip on your waist. He helps you balance on your feet once more, and then he curves his body around yours to stand in front of the mirror. There, his eyes never leaving yours once, Loki sinks to the floor on his knees.

It’s a heady feeling, you realize—looking down the slope of your nose at a God bowed at your feet. His inky hair falls in waves around his shoulders and you want to wrap your hand in it and pull it back. Instead, you inhale, trembling.

“Touch me,” you say, but it comes out in a wisp of a word.

“Again,” Loki encourages. “With more conviction, my love. With confidence in the bond we share.”

You roll your shoulders back, shuddering another breath. “Touch me. Touch my legs. Show me how much you love them.”

Loki answers with his hands. His palms first, as he grasps your ankles with a gentle grace and slides upward. His fingers then, tracing the muscle of your calves until he finds the thread of veins behind the backs of your knees, huffing a laugh when you twitch from the sensation. His nails last, as he clutches at the soft flesh of your thighs and drags them down the backs. You nearly lose your balance at the feeling, but Loki wraps his arms around your bottom half and holds you steady.

From there, he looks up at you, a smirk on his lips that sends a fire rippling through you. That same mouth is incredibly close to your clothed cunt, and now you wish, more than anything, that your clothes were off.

But first, you want his gone—a tactic he uses all too often with you.

“Stand up,” you tell him, and in an instant he rises. He’s too tall, towering above you, and you choose not to tip your chin upward to meet his gaze. Instead, you focus on his pants, gesturing to them. “Strip. Everything.”

“As you wish,” he murmurs with a soft smile. Loki finds the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head, mussing his curls, revealing the hard, lean plates of his pale chest that you long to run your hands over. Then, he shoves the waistband of his sweat pants down and over his trim hips, letting the material fall to the floor before stepping out of them and throwing them somewhere around the room.

“Everything,” you remind him, eyeing his black boxers. A grin splits his lips and Loki slowly peels his underwear off, your gaze following the trail of soft hair leading from his belly button as he soon exposes the defined angle of his pelvis, before finally—finally—his hard cock springs forth and his boxers drop.

Loki looks like a marble statue, a David carved from stone. Everything in you wants to bend to his will instead, to touch him and worship him the way that he deserves. To love him the way he deserves, the love he has gone without for so long. But part of you understands that he needs this just as much as he needs you when you submit to him.

He needs to bow to you. To show you that he trusts you the way that you trust him.

“You’re beautiful,” you say in a breath, eyes roaming the sharp lines that define the man in front of you, the discolored scars littering his body like a battlefield. “You’re so gorgeous, Loki. I love you so much.”

And, it’s so slight that you almost wouldn’t notice it in the darkness of the room, but Loki’s cheeks pinken under your praise. Confidence, cool like the rush of fresh water, surges through you.

“Come here,” you beckon him, holding your hand out to cup his face once he steps closer. Loki leans into your palm, his eyes fluttering shut. “Kneel,” you whisper.

You don’t watch him this time, busy with shucking your shirt off and throwing it across the room, leaving you only in your lacy bra and a pair of sleep shorts. Then, you reach down, holding out a hand, and he intertwines your fingers. With him steadying you, you lift your foot up and point it toward him—a silent command.

Loki takes your foot in his hand and presses his lips to the top of it, flicking his eyes upward to meet your steady gaze.

Beyond sex. Beyond love. Beyond souls. An unbreakable bond.

“Undress me.”

When he’s sure you have your footing once more, Loki wastes no time. His fingers hook in the waistband of your shorts and tug them down, forehead laying against your stomach as he breathes in the scent of your arousal. As he drags the fabric down, stripping you, his hands worship your legs once more. His fingers are soft as he grasps each of your ankles and helps you out of your bottoms. You unclasp your bra, too impatient to wait, and fling it off.

Now, completely bare, you can feel your slick when your thighs press together. Sticky, sweet, drenched. And you want him, you want him so bad, and you want everything.

But you don’t know—you don’t know what you want.

“I—Loki,” you stutter out, frozen. Suddenly, your nerves are static and itching with new anxiety. A flush floods your face, not in passion, but embarrassment. You didn’t think this far ahead. There is so much choice in front of you and what if you mess up?

But he senses this, evidently, and Loki’s hands slide up your hips to hold onto your waist, squeezing you there gently. His thumbs rub slow circles into your skin in an attempt to soothe you.

“Darling,” he speaks lowly, “what do you want from me? Would you like me to pleasure you? Or take you to bed?”

You swallow. “Yes.”

He nuzzles the soft flesh of your stomach, always patient with you. “What would you like, love? Your wish is my command. Your command is mine to follow.”

Suddenly, you catch your own image in the mirror. It’s so starkly different from the other times that you’ve seen yourself in this same reflection. Loki has put you in many positions before, but none of them have looked like this. You, standing steadily, with Loki knelt in front of you, the muscles of his back rippling in the mirror. The curve of his ass, the strong tendons in his thighs.

Closing your eyes and committing the image to memory, you take a deep breath through your nose and exhale through parted lips, calming yourself again.

“I want you to pleasure me,” you say, voice a little unsteady again, but Loki smiles up at you.

“Of course, my goddess.” But he makes no move, and it dawns on you that your command was unfinished.

“Your mouth,” you tell him. “Use your mouth on me, Loki.”

Silently, he takes your hand in his, and you grip onto him tightly. It’s such a small gesture, and yet so overwhelming—that he knows he needs to hold you there when your knees become weak. It’s clear how much he adores you, and it brings the sting of tears to your eyes that you blink back.

Loki eases your thigh over his shoulder, spreading your cunt so wantonly for him, and then his tongue is devouring it all. He licks up every ounce of your wetness until you don’t know what is slick and what is saliva. Already your knees buckle at the feeling as your head drops back, and Loki wraps his arm around the small of your back to hold you there.

You moan his name and your free hand tangles in his long locks, gripping his curls like they’re the reins to the beast who feasts upon your core. His mouth is magic, his tongue busy writing poetry addressed to your clit while his fingers squeeze tighter around your own. Everything feels off balance as you stand there, eyes hazy and half-lidded, watching as the God between your legs seeks to destroy you in the throes of pleasure. The leg that you stand on trembles, weak.

“Take me to bed,” you command, and though your voice is breathy with a moan, it’s stronger than anything else you’ve told him to do tonight. Loki immediately answers your call. Not even taking his mouth away from your cunt, he pulls his hand away from yours to scoop you up into his arms, and then your back is against the bed, twisting the sheets beneath you, and oh, oh, oh, his shoulders have spread your legs wider for him and his nose is bumping your clit as he fucks into your tight hole, your spine arched in immeasurable delights.

But your eyes snap open with a new idea—one that makes your face even hotter if that’s possible, and your thighs squeeze around Loki’s head in anticipation.

“Wait,” you pant out, pulling his head back by his raven locks and forcing him to release you. “Stop.”

When he comes up for air, his eyes are glistening as much as his lips are, covered in the honey he’s sucked from your center. The same tongue that was ravaging you only seconds ago darts out to clean his lips of your essence, a low groan in his chest at the taste. Your grip on his hair tightens at the sight as a new flood of juice slickens your pussy yet again and Loki hisses in pleasure.

“Yes, my queen?” he asks, his hands kneading the flesh of your thighs as he waits. He seems all too content that you’ve assumed such control over him, but even so, the thread of anxiety is still tugging at your stomach and you swallow back the fear you think might seep into your next words.

“I want to try something,” you say, fingers finally untangling from his hair.

“I would have you want for nothing,” he says, crawling up your body to come closer to you. “What shall I give you, my goddess?”

“Lay back,” you tell him, but the shake is back. “I want to—to—”

Loki’s hands frame your face and he brings your lips to his own, kissing you sweetly. Your own taste invades your mouth as his tongue sweeps inside, and then he’s pulling away and his thumb is rubbing the bone of your cheek.

“Say it,” he says, and it’s the softest demand you think you’ve ever heard from him.

“I want to ride your face,” you whisper, and your hand comes up to sweep over his throat, fingers smoothing over his adam’s apple as it bobs. “I want you to make me come like that.”

Without word, Loki lays back and takes you with him, flipping you both. Suddenly you’re on top—a position that you’ve not spent as much time in—with your thighs bracketing his trim waist and your hands on his chest. You don’t wait for his approval this time. Immediately, you start to shift forward, Loki’s hands on your hips to help you, until you are on your knees right above his face. Your own hands grip the headboard of the bed, using the leverage to keep your balance.

“Sit here, darling,” Loki says and the breath of his words is warm on your quivering cunt. “My face is but a throne for you. Take it—please.”

Please. The word shocks you into shivers, a gasp pulled from your mouth like there’s something magnetic in the air, and you sink down upon his lips. And, like a wild animal thrown its first bone, Loki’s hands clutch at your waist until there are sure to be bruises and he yanks you down further, until there’s no space between the two of you, until he’s surely inhaling nothing but you.

“Loki!” you call out, first in anxiety, and then in pure pleasure as his tongue delves further into your pussy. Your mind darkens, blanking, void of anything except Loki, Loki, Loki. Your grip on the headboard tightens, nails scratching invisible grooves into the wood as you cling desperately onto whatever you can as Loki works your clit over and over and over until you’re frenzied.

Your hips move on their own, grinding and rolling over his face like ocean waves looking to crash upon the beach, to meet their end. And, as his lips find your clit and create a wet seal around it, sucking and licking and guiding you higher and higher and higher toward your peak, Loki provides.

With a sob that sounds like choked-off letters of his name, you come with rapture. Your body arches, head thrown back, thighs clenched around Loki’s head. Using all your strength, you try to lift yourself away from his face, but Loki’s arm becomes a bar around your waist and he wrenches you back down and licks up every single drop of the honey that leaks from your throbbing cunt.

“Loki,” you cry again, near a whimper, and then he’s pulling away from the apex of your thighs and easing you down his body until you’re collapsed against his chest. Through the haze of your post-orgasmic bliss, you watch his eyes as they explore your spent body, raking over your entire form.

“You are gorgeous,” he murmurs, reaching up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Sometimes, I do not understand it.”

“Understand what?” you ask, still breathless, still reeling, still burning at the core.

His eyes are heavy when he meets your eyes. “How you have captured me so and yet you do not see it. You could run at any moment and I would be helpless, unable to give chase, though I would be desperate to do so. At times, I think you should. And in those times, I wonder if it is monstrous of me to think that if you did leave, that I would not be able to sleep or eat or breathe until I went after you and begged at your feet for you to come back.”

It’s a punch to the gut—all your insides freezing, frosted edges sharp and jabbing painfully into your soft belly. Immediately, you shoot up, hands braced against his hardened abdomen to look at him more clearly. Yes, the eyes that you love so much are so sad right now. He reminds you of the scared little boy you first saw in him when he came to Midgard with his brother. Terrified and alone and misunderstood. It hurts to see that again, his eyes like the dark depths of the ocean, unexplored and teeming with the monsters only heard of by the dead they’ve ravaged.

“You think I would let you leave?” you ask him, jaw loose and lips parted. Loki blinks, brows drawn together in confusion. “You say I don’t see how I’ve captured you, but you don’t see the same.”

As if you can pour all your feelings for him into one kiss, you smash your lips to his in a bruising kiss, something you aren’t used to initiating. You nip at his bottom lip, slip your tongue into his mouth, taste yourself on the tongue that tangles with your own.

“You haven’t captured me, Loki,” you say against his mouth. “I wouldn’t run if you gave me the chance. I’m not with you because you’ve caged me.”

You rock onto your knees and reach behind your back, fingers brushing over his cock that is still hard against his stomach. When you take it into your palm, gripping the velvet skin, Loki’s head falls back and he groans. In one swift movement, your wet heat envelops him as you sink down upon his cock, gasping. There, you sit atop him, your juice pooling in the finely-groomed hairs at the base of him.

Loki makes a sound you’ve never heard before—a cross between a moan and a guttural growl—as you rock back to grasp his thighs like a handle. You watch with fascination how his throat moves as he swallows, giving away how much your cunt swallowing his cock affects him.

“I’m with you because I love you,” you pant, breathless. “Because I chose you, Loki. I choose you. I want you—every part of you that exists. The good, the bad, the broken. I own you. I own you the same way you own those parts of me, and happily.”

When you smile down at him, you realize that Loki is looking at you as if dumbstruck. As if lightning has just rained down from the ceiling and shocked him speechless. He raises a hand toward you, fluttering and trembling anxiously, and it falls upon your cheek. You lean into his touch, lips peeled back and curled to show your teeth as you laugh a little.

“You are…” He struggles to find the words as his other hand falls to your bare hip. “You are the rarest thing in all the galaxies that might exist.”

And, like that, the air in the room shifts and Loki’s fingers find purchase in your soft flesh and he bucks up, suddenly and deliciously.

“And yet,” you say between gasps, “you are the one who keeps me. The only one allowed to ruin me.”

Loki’s hand caresses down your jaw until it falls at your throat, fingers splayed out in dominance there, a necklace made of bones and skin and him. A darkness consumes his eyes, pupils gone wide with a new sort of lust that wasn’t there before.

“Then ruin you I shall, love.”

He plants his feet on the bed, shifting you forward until you have nothing left to hold onto, and then he’s fucking up into you. Loki sets a pace that is punishing, bouncing you up and down as stuttered moans fall from your lips like broken prayers to his altar. He is your God and you’ll scream his name to the heavens until his father hears it in Valhalla.

Loki’s fingers tighten around your neck now, not squeezing, but holding you there against him as his cock pistons in and out of your tight pussy wet with its own slick. Like this, he reaches parts so deep inside of you they’ve been all but forgotten, the tip scraping against the one place that makes your eyes roll back into your head. From the way his hips force you to rock back and forth, your clit grinds and drags on the bone of his pelvis, creating a friction you didn’t know you needed until right now.

“I have kneeled to no one,” Loki repeats, desperate and gritty, in your ear, “but now I have kneeled to you, my queen.”

His cock slips in and out of you at a pace you can’t keep up with. You’re unable to do anything but to sit atop him and take it, bent nearly in half as he breaks your body with his thrusts.

“I have kissed your feet the way I have kissed the most precious parts of you,” he says, and his hand travels from your neck up into your hair to force your lips to his, a demonstration. His tongue is everywhere and the kiss is sloppy, spit-filled, and your bottom lip is bleeding when you pull back from lack of air.

Your cunt throbs and contracts around him, calling out, clenching, needy. You feel it in your muscles, in your bones, in every part of you that Loki owns—the threads of your existence unraveling into what will be your end.

“No one else has this power over me. I would trust no one else the way I have trusted you, and yet you will still let me ruin you in the same way?”

With your head thrown back, your pleasure rising and rising and rising, you scratch your nails down his chest until red lines decorate his pale skin.

“I was ruined the moment I met you,” you sob out, nearly there. “You ruined me, Loki, and I would let you do it again. I would beg you. Please, please ruin me!”

He hisses as you tighten around him, climbing toward the highest peak. His hands find your waist, tight around you, and he helps you to meet the powerful thrust of his hips. You scream aloud as his cock hammers against your insides, filling you, satiating you until it’s almost too much that it’s not enough, giving you everything you ever could have asked for.

“Beg for me,” Loki snarls. “Beg for me the way that I beg for you in every single way!”

“Please, please, please,” you repeat like a mantra, never-ending, punctuated by the head of his cock brushing your cervix.

And just as you hit the highest note of the heavens, Loki’s last words surround you like a wave crashing over your head.

“Ruining you is my greatest delight.”

Your vision goes white as you go under, back snapped in an impossible curve, lips parted in a scream that you don’t hear as the orgasm washes over you like cool water. Your thighs tremble as honey gushes from the crevice that Loki fucks into, tainting your ruined pussy with his spend as he stuffs you full.

“I love you,” he whispers as you collapse atop him, sweat matting your hair to your forehead. You lay there, catching your breath, as the waves of your orgasm roll through you, making you clench around his cock, still inside you. Loki hisses in delayed pleasure, but he wraps you up in his arms and refuses to pull out of you, even as the mixture of your come seeps out around him.

“I love you,” you reply in a mumble, barely coherent. He chuckles at this, petting your hair as you wind down.

It’s finally quiet in your bedroom, no sound but the labored breath that comes from your as you try to calm your racing heart. Loki is unbothered, barely having broken a sweat, but his eyes are glassy and there is a loopy smile on his face that is reserved only for you in these times, and it makes your heart feel full.

“Do you truly beg for me?” you ask him, a finger tracing designs into his naked chest.

“Indeed,” he replies, staring up at the ceiling. “In less vocal ways, I do.”

“Oh,” you say, burrowing your face into his skin. He huffs a laugh and you feel it rumble through his body.

“While you may show devotion like this, in begging for your own ruination, I beg for you in other ways. How I seek you out first in whatever room I may walk into, despite knowing that you may not be there. Or how I ask for you to clean my wounds, to bandage me after battle. This is how I beg for you, darling.”

When you raise your head to look at him, Loki takes your head to guide you to him and captures your lips in his, a promise. A vow of honesty.

“However,” he continues, “I wanted to bow to you like this tonight. I wanted to beg for you in the way you so often beg for me. Devotion through submission.”

“I know,” you say, choking on the words. “You were beautiful. Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for… letting me try.”

He smiles. “You need not thank me. As I said, love, this power that you hold over me stretches beyond the simple act of sex. We have a bond that is written in the stars, forged into a constellation, darling. I would give you anything if only you asked for it—and my submission, giving up my control to you, is but one of those things.”

Your fingers slide over his jawline, tracing the angle of his face. Then, you brush his hair away from where it lays at his forehead, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“I would give my life for you,” he says as if it was a simple thing. “I would break my soul apart for you.”

“And I would die with you,” you tell him firmly, cupping his cheek. “So don’t—don’t leave me, Loki.”

He inhales, shakily, and then rocks his hips into yours again. You squeak in pleasure, still sensitive from your first orgasms, and then a giggle falls from your lips as you feel him stiffening inside of you.

“Again?” you tease, flicking his nose. Loki’s face morphs from pensive into something all too mischievous.

“Well, when you speak of dying for me, love, you know it turns me on.”

Loki grasps your hips and lifts you, pulling out of your spent cunt, and then he’s twisting your bodies until you’re set on your hands and knees and he’s behind you, palming the cheek of your ass. Already you can feel the apex of your thighs slicken further, your core burning for his attention yet again.

“Plus,” he murmurs into your ear, teeth tugging on the lobe until you whimper, “I feel I haven’t ruined you enough yet. And you begged so prettily for it. Who am I to deny you, love? I promised you would want for nothing.”

[mypoisonedvine]

can we get more dark batman smut 😮‍💨

yes you can my good sir/madam/gentleperson!

"I said I didn't wanna see you out on the street again," the painfully-familiar deep voice rang out from behind you. You spun on your heel, nearly dropping the bag you'd just been stuffing with bricks of cash.

"Right, I remember that," you chuckled nervously. "Well, I said I didn't wanna pay for my surgery and, whaddaya know, they said I had to, so..."

You shrugged, struggling to act nonchalant as the massive, dark figure loomed before you.

"Can't always get what you want," you finished, but just as you reached for another stack of hundreds, a gloved hand grabbed painfully tight onto your wrist.

"You're not paying for surgery with this," he informed you sternly. "You're cleaning it through half a dozen shell corporations, and feeding it right back into the mob."

You swallowed thickly. "Okay, you know your stuff," you admitted, "guess you're not just muscle..."

"I told you what would happen if I saw you doing this again," he grumbled, "do you remember?"

It was sort of burned into your mind, since he said it while he had you pressed up against a brick wall, blue eyes piercing through you from behind the mask and the makeup. I'll make you regret it, he had told you. All you did was nod at him then, and you nodded again now; and suddenly he was on top of you, bending you over the table and trapping you with his strength. He kicked your legs apart as you struggled, pressing his weight onto your back until you could hardly breathe.

"I told you what I'd do, and you're still here," he explained. "That means you want it."

But you hadn't known he meant this, in fact you hadn't known what he meant at all until that exact moment that he pressed his hips against your ass and you could feel something hard— with a thick armored suit covered in tools and weapons, that could be anything, but your stomach sank and you gasped shallowly because somehow you knew.

"Wait," you pleaded hoarsely, "stop, don't—"

"You want this," he insisted again, grabbing the back of your head to shove your face down against the table. His other hand moved lower and started tearing your pants down as tears gathered in your eyes.

"Please," you whimpered, "I'm sorry— you won't see me again, really, I swear— I'm gonna clean my act up, get on the straight and narrow, you'll see—"

He shut you up with a harsh spank to your bare ass, making you whine from equal parts pain and fear. "Too late for that," he explained, and you heard him messing with his clothes until, apparently, he'd done enough to free his cock. It was hard and hot against the back of your thigh, and he groaned slightly as he rocked his hips to rub it on your skin.

"Fuck," you whimpered, "oh god, this isn't happening..."

"This is what you wanted," he insisted one more time, voice a little softer now, before he shoved himself inside you in one go.

It stung, it felt like he was tearing you open, and you cried helplessly with no one to hear you but him... maybe that was why he waited until you were in the vault to corner you. So no one would hear you scream.

"Tight," he mumbled, partially to himself, as he held you still at your hips and started to fuck you.

You had no choice but to give in now, and yet it was hard to do when pain made your toes curl in your boots. He started to fuck you faster already, a sickening wet sound echoing in the small room; you whimpered pathetically, clenching your fists so tight that your palm would probably bear marks in the shape of your nails.

"You should've listened," he scolded, leaning down to speak right in your ear. "You should've turned yourself in instead of getting right back to stealing from the people of Gotham— jail might be the only place you're safe from me."

You wouldn't be safe from him anywhere anymore, not with this burned into your mind— not with the threat that he could be around any corner, ready to put you in your place again.

"Just be good and this won't take too long," he bargained. "Do what you're told, and I won't hurt you more than I have to."

Shamefully, you nodded. You felt his hot breath against your neck and, ironically, it made you shiver.

He whispered his first of what was sure to be many instructions: "Admit it... admit that you wanted this."