#putting him in holds and pinning him down

[distantdarlings]

LET ME // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.8K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Theodore Nott has been harassing you ever since he found out you had a crush on him. Now, you’ve been paired together for a project for McGonagall’s class and he has nothing good in mind.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in V), unprotected, sub!reader, Dom!Theo, slightly rough!dom!Theo, marking kink, slight size kink, bulge kink, brief dumbification, brief spit kink, reader wearing a skirt, light enemies to lovers, language, one (1) slap, name-calling, praise kink, slight degradation, public sex, fem!reader, oral (fem!receiving), Theo is persistent, not proof read (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Echo - XANU

- - -

Merlin, forgive whatever you had done to deserve the treatment you were currently receiving.

You thought back on every negative deed you’d done in the last year and still hadn’t found anything worthy of your horrendous luck.

The arrogant boy turned to stare you down, malicious intent etched into the unfortunately gorgeous features of his face.

You could feel your face contort into an expression of horror as you tore your eyes away from him and turned to Professor McGonagall.

“Professor, I— you started.”

“All partner decisions are final—no exceptions!” McGonagall finished, as if trying to answer the question you had before you could even voice.

You deflated into your seat, your mood dropping like a brick. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have guessed the entire class was staring at you. The entire student body of Hogwarts knew how you felt about your new Transfiguration project partner, Theodore Nott. The bastard…

You glanced back at up—arms crossed and lips poured—just to find the boy still staring you down, evil smirk painted on his lips. He gave you a sardonic wave, wiggling his fingers tauntingly.

“Fuck,” you sighed, pressed an exasperated fist to your forehead.

Your knee anxiously bobbed beneath the desk, the heel of your uniform shoe beating against the floor in a flurried rhythm.

Luna Lovegood, your best friend, was sitting directly next to you. Intuitive as she always was, you knew she could feel the pure panic radiating off of you. Her hand rested on your shoulder in a small motion of comfort, but nothing could calm you now. You were utterly screwed.

McGonagall finished off the rest of her speech on the instructions for her project, then dismissed the whole class. Luna helped you to gather your things together as you struggled to force yourself to move.

Maybe you’d pissed McGonagall off? Merlin, what had you done to deserve this? You asked yourself the same question over and over again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you glimpsed Theodore flouncing over to you with an unnerving glint in your eyes.

“Well, aren’t I just the luckiest man on earth?” he said snidely.

“Fuck off, Theo,” you growled, intentionally not making eye contact with him.

You made to pick up your books and slide them into your bag, when he slammed his hand down on the cover of one of them, pressing them down against the desk. He pinned your fingers beneath them against the wood—just enough to keep them sturdy, but light enough so that it didn’t hurt you.

“Stop!” You yanked your fingers out from beneath the books, the heavy leather smacking against the table with a thud. Now, you made eye contact with him.

“What are we going to do our project on, baby?” he asked.

“Don’t call me that!” You yanked your books out from underneath his strong hold and shoved them quickly into your bag. “We can discuss it in the library after class.”

“I’m looking forward to it—I’ll be sure we get a quiet corner, you know…,” he stepped closer to you, “…so I can explore every inch of…the subject.”

You sneered in disgust and pulled away from him, his voice still rattling in your ears.

“You’re disgusting,” you scoffed. “I’ll see you later for nothing more than our assignment.”

“Looking forward to it…can’t wait to put those big brains to use. Lovegood.” He nodded politely to Luna before heading off.

You glanced at Luna and acknowledged her slight smile. Everything in you was telling you to snap at her and tell her not to encourage any of the delinquent boy’s behavior, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever be very mad at Luna Lovegood. At least, not for long.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and took off toward the door, bag swinging between your shoulder blades.

“Wait up, friend!” Luna shouted lightly, running to catch up with you. You snorted and laughed at her, letting her sunlight hair fall into step beside you.

- - -

By the time your class of the day dismissed and the sun had begun to sink beneath the Hogwarts skyline, you were soaked through with nerves. The saturation of your anxiety had managed to breach every protective barrier you held up, and fill your hands with shudders and your stomach with nausea.

The root of your nerves when it came to Theo came from the consistent comments he insisted on making toward you. It seemed that he loved nothing more than dropping sexual hints into your ear every few days just to watch you squirm. He’d only started this after he’d heard through the grapevine you had a bit of a thing for him.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, and that his words had absolutely no effect on you, but you couldn’t deny that he was just as annoying as he was charming.

It had gotten to a point when he made these comments, that he loved to joke aloud about your reactions to him, effectively embarrassing you in front of all of your peers. That was your final straw. All resemblance of an attraction toward Theo had melted away and been replaced by hatred.

And yet, as your feet led you to the grand library, you couldn’t stop the rapid pattering of your heart beat. Something about the boy had always been so…irresistible to you. Whether it was the way he always knew where to place his hands when he “accidentally” brushed you, or how he knew exactly what to say when he pressed his lips against the shell of your ear. You figured you should be grossed out and tell him to get away from you, but, unfortunately, you kind of liked it when he did those things.

As you came up to one of the several library doors lining the wall before you, you decided to try and swallow your nerves and focus only on the project. That was what you were supposed to do anyway—this wasn’t a date.

You pulled one of the doors open and slipped into the warmly-lit room. It always seemed to be just a tad bit cozier here than anywhere else in the castle—whether that was from the multiple fireplaces or the sweet aroma that floated through the air. Either way, you loved it.

Your neck craned as you glanced about, trying to glimpse the cocky boy, but to no avail. Wherever he was, he surely wasn’t interested in making it easy on you to find him.

A sigh left you as you started toward the back of the library where a couple tables rested behind a few conveniently placed bookcases. Unfortunately, the feeling in your stomach told you that he surely would be sitting at one of those tables, simply because you knew how his dirty, little mind worked.

That corner of the library was…infamous for its concealed nature. Everyone in Hogwarts had heard the little rumors that fluttered about, of couples getting a bit too friendly with each other while the librarian was downstairs.

Because of those rumors, it had garnered a reputation. And if someone who had a penchant for gossip slipped past you and Theodore Nott studying back there, you’d be screwed.

Once you passed the last book case, zigzagging between the three that formed the perfect labyrinth, you came upon Theo comfortably waiting at the table in the middle. A groan of defeat left you and your head dipped back. You stared at the ceiling for a few moments while contemplating your options—you could still run away.

“Hello, beautiful,” Theo said, leaning his chin down on his propped up fists. “I’ve been waiting so impatiently for you.”

“Whatever,” you sighed. You crossed over to the table and sat across from him—the farthest away you could get. Your bag collapsed to the ground and unzipped itself on the way down. The things you needed for this assignment floated out and landed neatly on the table before you, including a few rolls of parchment, a quill and ink, and your books.

He marveled silently, seemingly trying to hide his fascination at your wandless magic. Perhaps if he studied as hard as you did, he would also be able to achieve it.

“Alright, shall we do this?” you asked, maintaining a bored expression.

“I’d love to,” he smirked. “But I’d love to showcase a bit of my magic as well, if that’s alright with you?”

“What—?” Your voice was cut off with a slight gasp as all four legs of your chair lifted off of the ground. Your fingers wrapped around the sides of your seat to keep you from slipping off.

Theo’s eyes followed your chair as it floated over the table and all the way beside him. Once your shoulders were inches from his, your chair dropped a few centimeters to the ground. A small yelp came from you as you regained your balance and glared at him. Perhaps he was a better wizard than you thought.

“What the hell, Theo?” you demanded, immediately scooting your chair away from him, putting a good few inches between you.

“I just thought we’d be able to work better closer together,” he purred, his arm dropping against the table to cage you against him and the bookshelf a bit to your left. You eased away from him so you were closer to the shelves than you were to him. His eyes never dropped from yours. “Merlin, what is that smell? You smell absolutely divine—”

“Okay, let’s just get this done,” you interrupted him, pushing his approaching body back away from you.

“Mm, alright,” he smiled. “Have you decided on a topic you’re interested in presenting on?”

“Actually, I have.” You pulled your books across the table over to where the two of you were sitting, flipping everything to the appropriate page. There were a couple pages in your notebook where you’d jotted some ideas down earlier today, and you’d figured he’d want to see the different ideas, as it was his grade, as well. “So, I threw a couple of ideas together in my fourth period. We can see what you think of them…”

As you explained the details of all of your ideas, it became increasingly obvious that Theo was not at all interested in what you had to say about the project. Though you refused to look directly at him, the corner of your eyes granted more than enough knowledge.

Theo’s eyes were ravenous as they drew down your body, curving across the most private areas of your body with no shame. You could feel your cheeks burning, but hoped the warm tones from the candles around you would conceal that.

When he scooted a bit closer to you, you kept talking. And when he laid his arm across the back of your chair, you kept talking. And when his fingers began to toy with the ends of your hair, you kept talking. But when he took your quill gently from your fingers and set it down on the table, you finally stopped. You barely made eye contact with him, constantly glancing away and down to the table. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears.

His fingers pulled away from your hair and dropped to your shoulder. They squeezed the hard muscles a few times.

“God, you seem tense,” he spoke lowly, his voice barely above a whisper. His other hand reached up and matched the opposite’s position on your other shoulder.

When he placed a gentle amount of pressure, it expressed a small sigh from your lips. He was right. You were very tense—in general, but especially around him.

“Here, let me…,” he stood and appeared behind you rather quickly.

“Theo, I don’t think this is appropriate. I’d really just—” Your voice cut off as soon as he began to roll your taut muscles beneath his nimble fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, pleasurable jolts of pain shocking across your neck and down your back.

“That’s okay, baby,” he whispered, dangerously close to your ear. “Finish telling me about your idea. I’ll just loosen some things up back here. Fuck, you’re so tight.”

He pressed an especially hard drive against your skin. You bit back a moan at the sensation. You don’t think you’d ever had a better massage in your life.

You wanted to tell him to stop, but it felt so fucking good. And you really were sore around your neck and shoulders.

“Theo?” you tried again.

“Read.” His voice had a commanding tone to it. One hand released your shoulder briefly to grab your books and slide them closer to you, before returning to its position against your skin.

His hands worked their way up around your jaw, cupping it gently, so he could press his thumbs against the back of your neck. You audibly sighed this time without intending to. Embarrassed, you attempted to cover it up with a clear of your throat.

You began to explain the rest of your project plan, small shudders rippling through your voice every time he’d hit an especially sore spot.

By the time he finished and pulled his hands away from you, your body was mourning the loss of him but relishing in the relief it felt. It honestly hadn’t felt far off from a professional massage.

“How’s that?” He walked around to your side, still not sitting back down.

“Er, good,” you chuckled nervously, rubbing your hand along the back of your neck, trying to spread the relief around.

“Perfect,” he smiled, gently swiping his index finger beneath your chin. He sat back down beside you.

“So, what do you think?” you asked.

“About what?”

“The project idea…”

“Oh, yeah, I think it’s wonderful,” he said, shrugging a bit. “I think we can work with it.”

“Theo, did you even listen?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

“Of course, I did,” he chuckled. “It’s just not easy to focus when you have such a gorgeous partner.”

There went your cheeks getting insanely hot again. He thought you were gorgeous? There was no way. Someone must have put him up to this, right? Or he was fucking with you because he knew you had had a bit of a crush on him.

“I—er…” you stuttered hopelessly, pulling your eyes away from his.

He placed a hand on your knee. You could feel the warmth of his skin through your tights. The heartbeat in your ears picked up wildly.

“Don’t be nervous around me.”

“What?” you laughed suddenly. “I’m not nervous, I’m just—you’re just really…friendly? I don’t know. Why are you pretending to be so interested in me? Did someone put you up to it?”

“Why would someone have put me up to flirting with you?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Because they know I had a thing for you,” you blurted before thinking. “I mean—”

“Nope! Can’t take it back now, my love.” Theo chuckled, an evil smirk printing across his lips. “And, for the record, no one put me up to flirting with you. I just want to.”

His hand slid up to the top of your knee as he leaned a bit forward.

“Theo!” you hissed. “We’re in the library—you can’t do that.” Though you verbally protested his actions, you couldn’t deny the heat building in your stomach at his touch.

Despite the conviction you had for needing to decline him and all of his advances, you couldn’t seem to suppress the need you felt for him right now—a different kind. His eyes remained on yours and refused to look away.

The two of you were in the library, and had seemed to despise each other’s company only minutes earlier, but for some reason, you couldn’t force yourself to stop his rising hand.

Soon, his fingers were toying with the edge of your skirt and his lips were millimeters from your own. You could feel his gentle breath against your cheeks.

“Theo…,” you shuddered at his proximity. His thumb slid slowly down the side of your thigh, the contact eliciting chills along your legs.

“You’ve wanted me for months,” he murmured, lips brushing against yours. “Are you finally going to let me fuck you?”

You gasped slightly as the tip of his thumb just barely brushed your core through your panties.

“Say yes, or I’m not going to touch you anymore.”

As if on cue, his hands pulled back from you and his mouth seemed to hover a few inches away. The cold air hit the spot his hand had been occupying on your thigh and sent a row of shivers up your spine.

“I don’t understand. Is this a joke?” you shuddered.

He shook his head slowly. “Not a joke, I just want you. Say yes, baby.”

“Y—” before you were even able to get the singular syllable out, his lips were pressing against yours and devouring them like a predator.

His hand found its place against your thigh again, the other hand following suit on the other thigh. He pushed them up the expanse of your skin, inching your skirts up in the process.

You moaned against his lips in embarrassment at the sudden loss of dignity.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he sighed against your mouth. “Let me taste you.” He pressed his lips roughly back to yours.

You gasped for air and pulled away, noses brushing against the other. “Say please,” you managed to choke out.”

“What?”

“Say please,” you repeated. “What, did you think I was going to come here and just give you whatever you wanted?”

“Oh, that’s how you’re going to be?” he smirked. You stared back astutely, not yielding to any teasing he tried to give.

“Alright, baby,” he conceded. He pulled himself closer to you and worked his way up your neck and to your ear, pressing chaste kisses against your flesh. “Please let me taste this sweet cunt. ‘ve been dreaming about it for months.”

You shivered at his words before nodding. You weren’t in your right mind—you couldn’t be.

He slid out of his chair and dropped to his knees. His hands wrapped around your hips and yanked you to the edge of the seat. His fingers pushed your skirt up around your hips and angled you up toward his face, pulling your legs over each of his shoulders.

The cool air flushed against the hot wetness slathered across your thighs. But the shock of wintry air was canceled out quickly by Theo’s hot mouth placing against your clothed core.

Your head fell back against the chair as your hands flew to his honeyed curls.

He swirled his lips across you, gathering your lust on his tongue. Each time you let a little moan slip, he’d echo you with his own louder one. It wasn’t loud enough to be heard anywhere else in the library, but it was enough to vibrate against you and send your head spinning.

The second your thighs began to shake on either side of his sharp jaw, he pulled away from you, leaving you bare and wanting.

“Turn around,” he panted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Obstinately, you held your chin up and refused to obey him. You wanted to appear strong and resistant as payment for how much of a dick he’d been to you, but with your quivering lips and legs still spread wide for him, you figured you didn’t quite get the point across.

He suddenly grabbed your jaw in one hand, while undoing his belt buckle with the other. Anticipation boiled in your belly.

“Turn around,” he said before suddenly and mockingly tilting his head to the side. “Or do you not understand what’s good for you?”

When you said nothing, he pulled you out of the chair and bent you over the library table. You yelped as your chest collided with the table.

Once on your stomach, he flipped your skirt over against your back and ripped your panties and stockings down your legs until the soaked things were stuck around your ankles.

Then, without another warning, he was sliding into you and stretching you wide. You gasped aloud and gripped at the smooth table, begging to find purchase on anything.

He moaned slightly at the way you clenched around him. He pushed himself into you a little more with each slow thrust, the movement splitting you down the middle. His hands held you tightly in place by your hips, pinning you down against the table.

“Shit, you feel fucking perfect,” he moaned, fingers gripping into your flesh.

Every alarm bell was ringing in your head, telling you to separate and cover yourselves, because you were in public. But, for some reason, you found yourself loving the thrill of possibly being walked in on; of possibly being found with Theodore Nott buried deep inside of you, taking his pleasure from your body.

By the time he’d finally bottomed out inside of you, he was panting and willing himself not to come prematurely.

“I’ve never felt anything this tight,” he groaned.

You hadn’t been able to see the size of him before he started pushing into you, but you had to guess he was the biggest you’d ever felt. Just having his hips pressed to your ass felt like the tip of him was brushing your cervix.

“Ah, fuck, wait,” he said, panting heavily. He rubbed your back as he slowly pulled all the way out of you and stood you up. He turned you around to face him and laid your back against the table.

He brought your legs around him and you hooked them together behind his back. You watched him with deep admiration as his fingers stroked up and down your legs, preparing to explain what he wanted.

“I want to watch me fill you up,” he whispered, leaning down to press a slow kiss to your lips. It was sweet and thick with saliva but, despite everything else he’d so far, this set off a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

His hands came away from your legs and wrapped around your waist. He watched addictively as his fingers wrapped entirely around your body, his large hands positively dwarfing your small frame. And you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes fill with an inky, black glint as he brought his hips to the underside of your thighs.

He placed his dick on your stomach, reveling in how far up your stomach it went. He moaned at the sight and pulled your right leg up and over his shoulder. He pressed a small kiss to the side of your calf.

“Theo,” you whined, still reeling from the loss of him inside of you. “Please, no more teasing.”

“Be patient, baby,” he whispered against your leg. “I want to remember this moment.”

“Theo,” you urged once more. But his hand came down hard against the outer side of your thigh. You yelped at the pain that radiated down the side of your leg.

“I said to be patient.” He soothed the pain gently with his fingers, still looking down at how big he looked compared to you.

One of the things he’d always had on you was height. No matter if the things he said were stupid and undermining, you couldn’t deny that his size was enough to have the high ground.

“Look, we don’t have all the time in the world,” you sighed, leaning up on your elbows to speak with him. “The librarian could walk in here at any—”

He pushed back into you, choking any other words in your throat. You gasped and fell back against the wooden table, the cold lacquer biting into your flesh.

“Fuck,” Theo all but whined. He pressed his fingers against your lower abdomen where his dick had created a perfect impression. Every time he pulled out then pushed back in, his sheer size forced the body wall up and simultaneously probed a spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling backward.

Without wasting another second, he picked up his pace while dropping his hands down to your still-tucked in uniform shirt. He ripped the material out from beneath the waistband of your skirt, and ripped the buttons apart.

The candles floating overhead illuminated the curves and dips of your stomach, highlighting The valley of your breasts.

Hips still pistoning into you, and left hand holding your waist still, his right hand reached forward again and ripped the clip of your bra apart. Luckily, you’d worn the front access one today.

At the force of the destruction, your breasts fell apart from one another, bouncing against your dampened chest.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Gonna mark this beautiful body. Gonna let everyone know you’re mine. My girl.”

His words sent shockwaves through your system. You tried to reach for him but you couldn’t reach. Your arms fell back down against the table, your lack of anything to hold on to leaving you completely at the mercy of the pace he decided to set.

“T-Theo,” you stuttered, your voice breaking beneath the weight of his abuse.

He leaned down, pushing himself all the way into you for a moment, and latched his lips around a mouthful of your left breast. He sucked roughly on the flesh, pulling the blood to the surface. You whined through the pain that mingled with the pleasure from him below.

Once he was satisfied with the bruise painted on you, he moved toward your neck, sucking and biting just as rough, hips never halting.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Tell me how it feels.” He nibbled on your earlobe.

You said nothing, your lips unable to form enough to make any words come out. Your fingers still gripped uselessly at the sides of the table. One leg was held uselessly over Theo’s shoulder while the other dangled limply over the edge of the table.

He leaned up. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

Still, you made no sound.

“Oh, you pathetic thing,” he whispered, lips pressing to your elevated leg once again. “Am I fucking you stupid? Is that what it is? Yeah, baby? Next time, I’ll shove this dick down your throat and see how quiet you are then, you dumb slut.”

Now, within the final moments before your finish, his thumb dropped to your clit and began to rub small circles into the nerves. Your mouth fell open and your back arched to the ceiling as his hips intensified. They forced your finish closer and closer until you were spilling all over him, coating your legs and his stomach.

At the clenching of your core, his release was barreling forward, as well. He came with a long groan and a slow walk down of the brutal pace he’d set with his hips. His spend mixed with yours dripped down your legs.

Finally, with him still inside of you, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours. He eyed you sweetly, caressing soothing lines across your temple with his thumb.

“My sweet girl, you did so well,” he whispered against your lips. “Has anyone else ever fucked you so well?” There was that cocky Theo again.

“Maybe like one other person,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath.

“Oh, yeah? Who?” he asked, suddenly grabbing your jaw again and forcing you to look directly at him.

“Hmm, I’m not sure,” you said. “I think I forgot his name. I’ll probably just forget yours tomorrow, too.” You teased him meanly, smirk building on your lips. This was further payback for all the months of harassment you’d dealt with from him.

He pinched your cheeks together until your lips were pushed open.

“You can forget my name, sweetheart,” he whispered roughly, “but you’ll never forget what I just did to this body.”

His eyes watched yours with an intensity like no other. Then his lips pursed, and you watched as a line of spit dropped into your waiting mouth. It was the ultimate display of humiliation, but also ownership. You belonged to Theo, now.

And even if you forced yourself to forget his name or this day in the library, you’d never wipe the taste of his claim out of your mouth.

“Now, let’s get to work on that attitude, shall we?” Theo asked, voice suddenly chipper again.

He pulled out of you and zipped his pants back up, before selecting his bag off of the chair—which you’d now noticed he hadn’t even unpacked.

“Tomorrow at 6?” he asked.

Then he Disapparated, leaving you entirely exposed and alone.

That son of a bitch.

- - -

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03 , @mypolicemanharryyy , @angelfrombeneth , @clairesjointshurt , @bunbunbl0gs , @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303 , @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw , @yhiiil , @xxrougefangxx , @thatblackthorn , @robinyx , @starsval , @jolly4holly , @blvebanisters , @chgrch , @ilovehotmenandwoman , @smutnyrobocikwrakiecie , @synicaljah , @abaker74

[rosenclaws]

logan and his super strength

warnings: minors dni, 18+ only, fem!reader, a little mean logan, degradation, logan gets off on you crying, doggy style, prone bone, logan fucks ur brains out and calls you princess

a/n: gonna be so honest I am ovulating rn and I am so fucking horny for all hugh jackman characters and all i could think about today was getting ruined by Logan

It’s not fair how strong Logan is. Super strength and adamantium bones make for one wicked combination. It’s not fair that he can just man handle you whenever he wants to. How he can put you in any position he wants and you just have to take it. God you love to take it.

On your knees, on your stomach, on your back, against the wall, bent over anything Logan can find. It’s ridiculous how he can just. Move you to his will. Ridiculously hot and god does he know it. That cocky fucking grin as he fucks the life out of you.

The one on his face right now as he has you pinned to the bed. Knees achy from how long he’s held you like this. One hand on your back and the other on your hips. Drilling into you over. and over. and over again. Just fucking relentless. Tears falling down your face as he fucks other orgasm out of you. The bedsheet is torn to shreds from your harsh tugging and Logan’s claws.

“Aw is it too much princess?” Logan coos mockingly.

"Are your poor little knees too tired? It must be so hard for you." His patronizing voice makes you whine.

He grabs your chin and turns your head, kissing you sloppily as he slows down his thrusts. Biting at your lower lip until it's sore. He grins at the tears that stream down your face. You just look so pretty like this. He licks up your cheek and groans.

"Pussy so sweet and tears so salty."

"Logan.." Your whole body aches. Too much pleasure. Your legs are shaking wildly and you can barely stay up.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of ya." He slowly pushes you down until your flat on your stomach.

The burn in your thighs is relieved as you sink to the bed. Logan runs his hands along your naked body. His hard cock slowly sliding across your ass. His cock slides back into your pussy as he holds your legs together. The breath is pushed out of your lungs as he sinks deeper than he's ever been. He lays his body across yours as much as he can. His heavy bones pining you to the bed.

"Holy shit." Logan closes his eyes as you clench around him. You're so much tighter, so much wetter. A cry is ripped from your throat as he draws his cock back and slams into you.

"Fuck!" You wail as Logan sets a punishing pace. You try to crawl forward subconsciously, the pleasure overwhelming you.

"Where do you think you're going?" Logan laughs as he puts more weight onto you.

"You wanted this right? Just too fucked out to stay up on your knees. Gonna make me do all the work." He grins wickedly as he props himself onto his elbows and kisses your shoulder. You let Logan's weight press you to the bed. He's fucked any coherent thought out of your head except the want for more. All you can think of is needing more and more. He's ruining you and you love it.

Logan presses a kiss to the side of your head shushing your mindless babbles and placing his hands on top of yours.

"That's it princess, just be my good girl and take it like you always do."

[a-b-riddle]

Runaway Love (kidnapper Price x captive reader)

cw: established kidnapping, violence, intimidation, unplanned pregnancy, miscommunicated threat of forced abortion, eventual Stockholm syndrome, housewife kink. Reader just accepts her situation at this point. Dub-con, non-con.

You couldn't think of anything except the pain that radiated with each step toward your room. You were lucky your work and home were the same place. It was incomprehensible, downright unbelievable how some of the other maids worked their shift and then either walked home or walked to the bus stop.

Granted, most of them weren't pregnant and had shoes that actually fit, but you didn't like to complain. You were lucky to have the job, even if it was back breaking. You had a roof over your head and although the pay was minimal, you were able to buy essentials and save up and with a baby on the way every penny saved counted.

Most importantly, you were free. You were safe and so was the baby. It had been the only reason that after almost a year, you had finally been brave enough to escape. Knowing that it would be hard to rebuild a life from scratch. Knowing that the consequences meant a punishment so severe you could only hope for death.

You had tracked your period religiously. Even with the stress of being held captive by a psycho military Captain, your cycles were fairly normal. So when you were five days off, you knew. In a moment in which you wanted nothing more than to be happy to finally be starting the family you dreamed about having as a little girl, fear enveloped you.

John had never mentioned kids. Only a wife. Someone to be at home waiting for him. Keeping the house in order and his bed warm while he was away.

All I need is you and the boys, Birdie. What more could a man want?

You considered telling him. Hoping that he would be as happy as you wanted to be. Yet anytime you came close to telling him over the next two weeks, horrible thoughts raced through your mind. What if he was angry? What if he blamed you even though he practically took you whenever he pleased? How would he terminate the pregnancy or would he be content in letting you give birth without any medical intervention and simply get rid of the baby after?

Would he just get rid of you altogether?

It was like the universe was telling you to run when shortly after you decided that telling him wasn't the answer, that he told you he was going on a mission. Won't be back for a couple of weeks. Sent the boys to pick up anything you'll need. I know you'll be good for me.

You had been good. For that last six months, you had behaved. Didn't pull away from his touch or put up a fuss. You lived in the epitome of domestic bliss, so John had no reason to send you down to the basement. Not when you had so many opportunities to try to escape and you didn't.

Granted, he had threatened to break your legs during your first and last stunt. You had been in the basement for three weeks. Living in near darkness as he brought all of your meals. You had been upstairs for about twenty minutes and barely made it to the door before he tackled you. Pinning you to the ground, breath hot against the back of your neck as he hissed in your ear. Ungrateful little brat.

Your apologies fell on deaf ears as he hauled you back down where you would stay for six weeks.

For months you built the relationship on a lie. A lie John deluded himself into believing. Anytime he told you he loved you, you repeated the words back. Wanting to scrub your body raw anytime he touched you and hating yourself anytime he made you come.

But it had been worth it. You were four months along, and given your ill-fitted clothes, not really showing, but knowing that in another five months you would be holding the baby you always wanted. A baby that you had went through hell for. Seeing his or her face for the first time, being their mom would be worth it.

You kept all of the lights off. It was a request of the motel owners to reduce their bills. So even if it was early December and you knew you would be walking back to a freezing room, they didn't give a shit. In truth, they were doing you a favor only charging you $400 in rent with unlimited access to their laundry services. You suppose having the pity of others did have its perks.

You hadn't even bothered to turn on the lights before pulling your shoes off your feet and plopping down on the bed. The grit and grim still felt thick on your skin, but you couldn't find the energy to care. You would shower and get on a fresh set of clothes you had gotten from the shelter when you first made it into the city, but for now you needed a moment. Just a few minutes to decompress.

A few minutes turned into five and then ten. Before you knew it, you had been laying in the bed floating in and out of consciousness for almost twenty minutes. You knew you needed to get up. Wash away the grime of the day that had settled on your skin. Your clothes smelling faintly of bleach.

Fuck you were tired.

You were always tired.

You got up and made your way to the bathroom, barely keeping your eyes opened. Not confident enough you would actually be able to take a shower without wanting to lay down in the tub and let all the strain of the day go down the train.

It's funny how the human body can make us teeter on the edge of sleep. We imagine things that may or not be there. But when you heard it, when you heard that voice coming from the corner of you room, you knew you weren't imagining anything.

"Wonderin' when you'd wake up."

[delphi-shield]

everywhere, man .ᐟ.ᐟ

Leon x Reader - public sex - mdni

you could bully leon into fucking you almost anywhere.

he's got this thing about free use and exhibitionism - likes the idea of it, hates the consequences. his job isn't cushy, see, but it provides for you. he can't give that up. he's got no back-up plan, hasn't needed one since 1998. all his skills are particular, well-honed but completely non-transferable to civilian work.

but at parties, when you've been teasing him all night, ass rubbing against his crotch every time you adjust yourself on his lap - that's where he starts to loosen his grip. you aren't subtle. his fingers curl into your hip. not a warning, a plea. either spare him or put him out of his misery.

you make your choice when no one's looking, when you have a chance to slip outside. quick, painless, humane. he hoists you up against the side of the house, right next to the sliding glass door. your legs wrap around his waist and both of you realize you've gotten two steps ahead. back down. your sweatpants drop to your ankles and he hefts you back up.

you're laughing - which means he's laughing. he pauses, forehead pressed to yours. light pours out from inside, enough to leave parts of you silhouetted to him.

"shut up," he murmurs. his hand cups your jaw, guides your face up from his shoulder so he can kiss you.

you giggle against his mouth when he kisses you. his cock misses your entrance twice, but the slide feels so fucking good he doesn't think he minds. he gives up on trying to enter you, satisfied with the slow burn that's coiling in his gut.

"shh." he smiles against your lips, kissing another giggle from you. "gonna get us caught."

your hand snakes between your bodies, guiding him to your tight hole. you want more, want him inside - who is he to say no? he fucks into you slowly, the same languid thrusts that had him slipping through your folds.

it sneaks up on him. too much teasing gets him all backed up, has him ready to pop. you know this - he knows you know it. he's barely gotten fully seated inside you, barely been able to settle into slow, grinding thrusts that make you claw at his shoulders, when his hips jerk.

leon's breath shallows, quick, hard puffs against your skin. he tucks his forehead against your shoulder. his hips slap against you - quick. staccato. every time he tries to hold back, his hips snap. you pet his hair.

"it's okay," you murmur. you're squeezing him like a goddamn vice. he whimpers. "go ahead."

"sorry," his hands grip your ass tight, spread you open for him. leon fucks you quick, hard, rhythmless. "i'm sorry, can't- shit. oh, fuck-"

keeping quiet turns his moans into quick, shaky inhales, whimpers that ooze out of him and dribble down your skin the same way his cum slips down the curve of your ass, splatters onto his friend's deck. he's breathless, hips still pumping against you even when he softens and slips out of your warmth.

leon's arms tremble, but he's still got you all folded up and pinned securely to the side of the house. he mouths kisses against your flushed skin, mumbled apologies.

you finally slip out of his grasp, touching the ground toes first. a consequence of his reluctance to let you go.

"i'll be right back," you murmur. he finally releases you, let's you drop from en pointe and wiggle back into your sweats.

the sliding door rattles, the noise of the party suddenly crisp when you step inside.

"everything okay?" one of his friends asks from inside.

"yeah," your voice fades. leon can picture your path, the way your hips sway when you glide across the room. "leon's not feeling so hot. i'm just going to get him some water."

it's not just parties. you tempt him where you can, when you can. whenever the mood strikes you, really. it's not like he's going to tell you no. if his baby wants to suck him off in the club, then he will gladly make that happen. he's a provider, remember?

leon's a gentleman most of the time, doesn't want you kneeling on dirty bathroom floors. he fumbles out of expensive leather jackets, lays them at his feet like a prayer mat, waits for your worshipful tongue.

you can get him out of his pants in four seconds flat. he knows - you timed it once. when you're really in a hurry, you don't bother with his belt. that probably shaves another half second off.

you've got him all figured out, see? can't mouth at his balls, can't kiss and lick and squeeze because he'll cum too quick. gotta leave the boys tucked away right now.

you dodge his kiss, sink to your knees in front of him. he wants to pout, but you kiss his dick and that turns his frown the other way around. you're all business tonight. no teasing, no cute little kitten licks while you stare up at him from beneath your lashes. you swallow him down, hand gripping the base of his cock tight. your tongue curls against his head every time you pull back.

the music pounds outside, bass pounding through his feet. sensation floods him. his hand curls at the back of your neck, thumb swiping arcs across your skin while you work him deeper.

the doorknob wiggles just as you gag around his length. too much too quick, your throat constricting. leon moans. he forces his hips to pull back, grasping at the last of his restraint. it would be so easy, feel so good to thrust into your mouth. you could take it - he knows from experience - but it's not polite, not how he wants to treat you.

you drag yourself closer when he draws away. your hands grip his ankles, using his body as leverage to take him in again and this time he can't stop the way his hips pulse into your mouth. he's so close, toes curling in his shoes, hand cramping with the effort it takes not to hold you in place and cum down your throat.

he's halfway through a moan - "don't stop, christ, don't stop" - when you pull off him.

it takes longer than it should for his eyes to blink open. you're wiping your mouth delicately, cleaning drool and snot from your face. leon can't decide if the ache is worse in his chest or in his cock.

"wait, wait, wait," he blubbers. "you can't just--"

"aw, i can though."

you look up at him adoringly. leon swears. he can't quite catch his breath, his chest ruddy, rising and falling too quick. you rock back onto your haunches.

"you're serious?"

"you're a smart boy," you coo, kissing his flushed tip goodbye as you rise to your feet. his cock jerks. you giggle. it jerks again, throbs painfully. christ, he's going to cum and it's going to be pathetic - slow and torturous, dribbling from his head despite his effort to hold himself at bay. "you'll figure something out."

in his fantasies, his solution is simple. he grabs your wrist, drops your little ass on the toilet, and you take him in your mouth again. you have mercy, let him cum on your tongue. you stroke his hip through his shallow, uneven thrusts. you keep lapping at him til he's soft and over-sensitive, and you'd keep going if he didn't stop you. his thumb trails across your swollen lips, drags the plump of your bottom lip down to watch it bounce back in place. you tilt your head to kiss him and he doubles in half to meet you. you pass his cum back to him, make him swallow the taste of himself.

but back in reality, he watches you dust his jacket off and shrug it on. you pause to wash your hands and fix your hair, then you're toddling out of the bathroom. the door slaps closed behind you. your perfume cycles out not much longer, and then it's just him and his dick in this tiny, grimy room.

he joins you back at the bar a few minutes later. you're twirling a cherry in your drink, glib little smile on your pretty, swollen lips.

"did you figure it out?" you chirp, leaning closer to him.

your hand finds itself at home on his knee, fingers stroking back and forth, a pattern so rhythmic he can picture tide marks worn into his skin. leon smiles. somehow, it manages not to look strained.

his hand encircles your wrist, hold soft but insistent. he guides you to palm him, half-hard and tucked uncomfortably in his pants.

"nah. i'm gonna need your help."

[cutielando]

domestic | c.s.

synopsis: in which you build a life together with the love of your life

my masterlist

The sun was shining brightly through the open windows, the sunrays illuminating the busy room and casting a warmth over everyone inside.

Everyone was running around, trying to finish the last touches before the moment finally came. Putting a few more bobby pins into your hair, adding some last touches to your make-up, smoothing over any creases that might have appeared on your gown.

The air and atmosphere was tense, everybody scrambling to make sure everything was perfect for your big day.

Your wedding day.

You didn’t remember ever feeling as nervous as you did in those moments while getting ready. Not even when you found out you were pregnant with Rafael, not even when you have birth to him could you remember having such nerves. 

Yours and Carlos’ mother were standing in the corner of your room, silently dabbing their eyes with tissues as they observed you. Reyes was crying and sniffling as she took you in, the woman that had made her completely at ease that her son was in very good hands in the future. The woman that had gifted the family the most precious little boy, The woman who loved her son more than life itself.

All the while, your mother couldn’t believe her little girl was so grown up. It seemed like yesterday you had brought Carlos home to meet your parents, and now you were marrying him with little Rafa next to you guys.

Where had the time flown by?

Your maids of honor, the beloved wags of the paddock and your childhood friends, were making sure everything was ready, checking you from head to toe and insisting that you just stand still a little while longer for some final touches.

They were probably more stressed out than you were, taking their roles so very seriously as well.

And lastly, there you were, sitting on the chair and smiling at the people hurrying around you, locking eyes with your mother and mother-in-law as you desperately tried to hold back tears. Mostly in fear that Kika or Alex would absolutely kill you for ruining your make-up.

You couldn’t quite believe your eyes as you stared at yourself in the mirror, seeing yourself all glammed up, feeling the fabric of your wedding gown underneath your fingers, admiring every single detail on the embroidered corset.

You had been dreaming about this moment ever since you met Carlos all those years ago. Walking down the aisle with your father by your side, seeing Carlos waiting for you at the altar with your little boy by his side, surrounded by your family and closest friends.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of knowing that in just a short while, you’re going to be married to the man of your dreams, solidifying your life together and continuing to grow your little family.

The sound of a door opening made you snap out of your little daydream and look behind you, smiling instantly when you saw Rafael standing in the middle of the room, his signature infectious smile wide on his little face.

His little suit clung perfectly to his small figure, the baby blue pants and white shirt making him look like a perfect little doll.

“Hi, mi amor” you smiled and outstretched your arms, making Rafa grin and run into your waiting arm, carefully hugging you around your neck.

“You look very pretty, mama” he spoke, kissing your cheek as he pulled away from the hug.

You smiled wobbly as tears started gathering at the corner of your eyes, leaning down to kiss him on the cheeks. 

“Thank you, my handsome boy” you whispered, resting your forehead against his.

He grinned and clapped his hands before pulling away from you and running out of the room, making you all laugh and shake your heads.

“I can bet you that Carlos sent him in here” Reyes commented, making everyone burst out laughing and agree.

“He thinks he’s being sneaky” you commented, rolling your eyes affectionately with a dreamy smile on your face.

Someone would figure that your cheeks would start hurting because of how much you were smiling, but it was the complete opposite. This was such a special day for you, a day you were never going to experience again and would only look back on in the future. You would be damned if you would let anything distract you from your own wedding.

Including Carlos and his shenanigans with your own son.

A knock on your door interrupted the moment you were having with the rest of the women in the room. Not even a moment later, your father popped his head in, looking around as his eyes searched for you.

“Can I come in?” he asked, making your mother smile and nod from where she was sitting down.

Your father stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, his eyes instantly falling on your figure. You were now standing up in front of him, every last touch added to your already gorgeous look. 

You were ready to get married, ready to officially leave the family nest forever, and as the realization truly dawned on your father, he couldn’t help the tears that had started falling down his cheeks.

“Dad, please don’t cry. You’re gonna make me cry and I’ll ruin everything” you pouted, laughing as you stepped closer and took your father into your arms, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“I just can’t believe you’re really getting married. It doesn’t feel real” he said, his voice breaking mid-sentence. 

“I know, I know” you comforted him, looking at your mother over his shoulder.

You knew it would be an emotional day for everyone, especially for your parents. You were their only child, they were only now realizing that their only daughter was leaving the safety of their family and making another one of her own, without them.

They were bound to cry, and rightfully so, but you feared that you would soon start crying too and ruin the hard work of everyone in getting you ready.

“Come now, dear. It’s time for the ceremony to start” your mother soon came over and patted your father on the back, making him slowly pull back from you and wipe his teary cheeks.

He sniffled, looking between you and your mother. He smiled, proudly looking at you in your dress, taking a mental picture he would remember until the day he died.

“Your mother is right. Let’s go get you married”

♡♡♡♡♡

The soft calm ceremony music started playing through the church as the doors opened and the hall came into your view.

Your father held your arm as you took in the entire room, your eyes scanning the room before landing on Carlos. Your eyes instantly teared up at the sight of him, his hair slicked back and tears welling up in his eyes, his black suit fitting to his body just right. 

“You ready?” your father whispered, smiling at you once he saw the dreamy look you were giving your soon-to-be husband.

You looked back at your father and smiled, nodding vehemently. 

The short walk towards the aisle was short and sort of a blur, the only thing you could remember being Carlos’ eyes staring back at you, fidgeting to finally get you before him.

Rafa was waiting next to his father, standing in front of Lando, Carlos’ best man, smiling from ear to ear and alternating between looking at you and looking at his father.

You hadn’t even realized you were now standing in front of Carlos until your father had let go of your arm, Carlos replacing his hold with his own hands.

“Hi” you whispered, smiling wobbly.

“You look stunning” he whispered back, neither of you paying the smallest bit of attention to the officiator.

The entire ceremony went by in a blur, every word said by the priest being lost on you two up until the moment he mentioned the word ‘vows’, which is when you two finally came to and realized you were surrounded by a whole lot of people waiting to hear from you.

“Sorry, got a little distracted” you joked, making everyone around you laugh. “Um, where do I even start? I’ve been dreaming about this day ever since I was a little girl, and now that dream is finally coming true. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to spend the rest of my life with and have a family with, nobody could ever compare to you, Carlos. You make me the happiest woman in the world, you understand me like nobody else and you make me feel so loved and cherished. You gave me the most beautiful gift in the world, our son, and I can’t thank God enough for bringing you to me and showing me what true happiness looks like. I promise to love you and care for you until the end of my days, support you in every decision you make, take care of our little family with everything in me until we grow old and gray and are surrounded by our grandchildren. I love you” you didn’t know when you had started crying, but you just realized the waterfall of tears that were falling from yours and Carlos’ eyes at the same time.

Carlos quickly wiped his eyes and laughed, sniffling before looking back at you

“I don’t know how I could ever compete with that. Um, Y/N, you came into my life at a point where I didn’t think I would ever find love. My career has required me to sacrifice having a personal life, and I didn’t think finding someone who would understand it was possible. But you proved me wrong in every single way. You have been here for me from the very beginning, you have supported me in every way you could think of, you loved me and cared for me through every single up and every single down. You gave birth to our son and proved to me just how much I appreciate you for how strong you are, how proud I am to call you mine and the mother of my child. I promise to always put you and Rafa before anything else, to love and take care of you until I physically can’t anymore and be the husband and father that you both deserve me to be” you were now full-on crying, Kika freaking out behind you because of your make-up, but you simply didn’t care.

Hearing Carlos vow his eternal love to you and your son made the entire ceremony all the more real, you were really getting married to the perfect man for you and your son.

“Now, the rings?” the priest asked, and you looked expectantly at Lando, but he just smiled and looked down at Rafa.

You pouted once you saw the little velvet boxes in your son’s hands, gingerly opening them and handing both to you and Carlos.

“My little gentleman” you whispered to him as you took the box in your hand, kissing his cheek and ruffling his hair.

Carlos took your left hand in his, holding the ring over your finger as he spoke.

“With this ring I, Carlos , take you,Y/N , to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us.” and with that, he slid the wedding band on your finger, the cold metal a symbol of his commitment to your life together.

You returned the gesture, sliding the ring on his finger as you declared your love for him in front of your families, laughing when Rafa started clapping. 

“Yay!!” he screeched, making everyone laugh and Lando take him in his arms to quiet him down.

“By the power invested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. Carlos, you may kiss your bride” the pastor barely got the words out before Carlos stepped forward and took your face in his hands, kissing you like his life depended on it.

The entire hall was now on their feet, clapping and whistling echoing throughout the entire church. Rafael was jumping up and down in Lando’s arm, holding onto his uncle’s neck to not fall down from how excited he was. Your bridesmaids were all holding back tears as they clapped as well, but the same could not be said for yours and Carlos’ parents, who were dabbing their eyes with tissues in a desperate attempt to stop their tears.

But the two of you were stuck in your little bubble, neither of you making a move to break the first kiss you shared as husband and wife, as life partners forever. 

And as you stood there, surrounded by the people you both loved the most, you knew this was just the beginning of your life together.

The beginning of your little family.

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[court-jobi]

Flip of a Switch

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work or this splendid art))

Pairing: Hawks x reader (fem!reader)

Words: 3.4k

Rating: M, 18+ (put down the spicy chicken bucket, baby birds)

Warnings: NSFW, oral (m receiving), fingering, praise, slight!overstim, est. relationship, sweet dirty talk, marking, Hawks / Reader are SWITCHES, porn w feelings, where we're going we don't need plot

Summary:

Any chance he gets, Hawks is going to be bounding into your apartment, ripping off his shirt and ready to spoil and be spoiled by your loving hands when he has a free afternoon or a rare night off the patrol circuit. His 'issued residence' is hardly a zen getaway for him, but your home is. Pleasing and pleasuring your beloved Pro Hero is the least of your worries. It's playing with yourself that's the hard part, so opening up your bedroom to your Keigo to let him try his hand at it is still a touch-and-go battle. But it's your playtime, too, and he's set on making you feel as sexy as you look.

A/N: It's smut hours, yall, and pretty bird is up next. Thank you all for the comments and love, hope you like this one!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

"Stop," Hawks breathes out fast, "Stopstopstop…"

With a rough hand, your personal Pro Hero forces you to listen: he smooths over your hair to get your attention along his hip, and cupped your chin with a lift to keep it up and away from temptation.

Looking up all too innocently, your small voice cracks from… lack of use.

"Wass'matter?" 

You swallow some residual ‘excitement’ from the corner of your mouth with a flirty tongue. Hawks's pupils are blown.

"Bad idea. Fuck... You're too good at that." He smirked, reining himself in.

"Mmm, thank you~" you laid down along his abs, mindful of the pulsing just below you, in between your breasts. Rocking back and forth under the excuse of 'getting comfortable' only got a rise out of Hawks more– your beloved companion inhales a cleansing breath to steady himself.

"And here I thought you had those pesky confidence issues, lovedove…"

"I did, a little." You pressed a little kiss and a twiddle of fingers along his sides, "But m'better now, thanks to you-"

Those fingers press and press towards his back, and the thought just crosses your mind…

Hawks clutches a wrist almost instantly- frowning hard to hide his near outburst.

Eyes flickering between Hawks’s face and his squeezing hand, you narrowed your set stare.

"... Are you ticklish?"

"No."

"You're lying."

"My wings aren't ticklish. Common misconcep’shn."

"Oh." you hushed. "So you won't make a fuss I do this..."

"Okay now, don't you gooo-ooh-woah, HEY!!"

Hawks rose up with laughter as you gave him a mighty ‘ole raspberry on his taut stomach. 

Happy Keigo is your favorite Keigo.

The bark of his involuntary giggles echo for a passing beat in your perfect, cozy room, cascading into low chuckles as you sought out his sides -close to where his winglets are pinned down– to tickle him further. 

The cuteness aggression on both your parts died down as he continued to cry uncle, so you eased up with the sweetest realization: this was probably the first time you recalled having so much pleasure and fun in bed. What a combination…

"You absolute brat!" Hawks rasps incredulously and pins you back towards the foot of the bed. This puts you squarely out of the covers to force your little squirming self against the cold- bringing out your subsequent pout. No amount of bargaining will help you now, "Oh no~ you don't get to hide. You asked for this."

And he copies your razz, causing you to burst out in high, carousing squeals- after which you immediately slap a hand over your mouth. 

Surprised by yourself, you had to mute the sudden noise with a panicked look at the door.

Hawks hummed, disapproving. 

"Look who's being loud now. Whatever would the Hikamotos say?"

The game of teasing only brought out your competitive nature. Your dear old neighbors hold no weight over you, but you weren't about to spark their wrath at you for being too loud again. 

You winked and teased your lip, "What they don’t know won’t hurt them."

"That so?" Hawks' eyes sparkled in the low light. "Then I have your permission to make you scream another way…?"

That made you stiffen- in all good humor, but aware of the sinful look in Hawks' dilated sights, you knew this wasn't a bluff. It's a promise.

"Okay, wait, no-- they'd definitely suspect something then!"

"Since when do you care what the old coots across the hall think?" Hawks countered, a jealous twang slipping into his words.

"Since I’m the one who has to deal with them whenever you're gone. And PopPop asks me -often- about my love life, and what I think about those heroes I'm always hanging out with. Pretty hard act to play, when I have to be cool even though I'm thirsting after your ev-.. ev’ry move, while you're.. y’know..not here."

Your words were slowing off your tongue as Hawks' wandering hands skimmed over your skin- one heading up your body to cradle your head, the other snaking down and swatting back the bunched-up covers to give him space.

"Yeah? And what're you going to tell the poor geezer now, hm?"

You smiled suggestively, but the sensations thrumming through your bones now send you reeling- knowing what was coming next, and already feeling the nerves push back up your gut.

Hawks' gaze flickered down as a hint. A whisper on his lips instructs you to 'open your legs a bit', very easy going. 

Letting your thighs go lax, you busy your hands by tugging his upper body down close so you could reach his hair- something, anything to hold onto, to touch him gently enough so he'd show you mercy.

He says it's his favorite way to unwind, being at home with you. Fierce Wings shed all over your room in batches, stripped down in next to nothing himself, unencumbered by teeming fans and villains alike– your boyfriend lights up at the idea when you offer your own cleared schedule to spend it with him. 

Within minutes of texting a particularly alluring selfie his way, Hawks is bounding into your apartment, ripping off his shirt and ready to spoil and be spoiled by your loving hands anytime he gets a free afternoon or a rare night off the patrol circuit. His apartment -while calm and aesthetically pleasing in its simpleness- is an ‘issued residence’, and reminds him of his commitments to work and thus far from his ideal zen getaway.

But making him feel good is the least of your reservations. It didn't take you longer than an episode of a kid’s cartoon to make him lose his mind and start begging to cum. 

It's playing with yourself that's the hard part, so opening up your bedroom to Hawks to let him try his hand at it was still a touch-and-go battle. 

You knew full well you were in the best care with him, knew it in your head and heart– but the flare of insecurity would not leave you alone when you're with him like this. Your entire waistline will tremble on its own, your spine will go stock still, and your legs are unable to really go weightless unless he’s telling you step by step to do so. 

But he makes it really convincing, bat of his eyes and all. He's never once rushed you or made a jab about how long you take to unwind. This is your playtime, too; where he can see past your flirty shell that's obviously attracted to him, but needs a little encouragement to turn sensual. He'd offer you the moon if he could- whatever would make you feel as sexy as you look.

Seems that simply watching you does it enough for him, at least… hence why he had to forcibly remove you from his lap to avoid releasing too soon. 

"So?” Hawks croons down to you, “You were going tell him..~?"

"That I-- uh..." you raked along his skull to feel grounded.

Gone are the featherlight and soft touches. Hawks is on a massaging mission. Memorizing  you by way of warmed skin and the stuttering breaths of almost kisses.

"You–?”

You squirm, brow furrowed.

“I– I can get the- uhm-”

“No…” the twist of your body is halted by his palm on your hip. Shaking his head at your suggestion of a toy to speed things along, he presses a chaste kiss to your nose, “no rushin’. Gonna try this the old-fashioned way.”

You flare with heat up your neck.

“Old-fashioned way?”

“Mhm~ Lovin’ touchin’ squeezin’, mama.”

He's honestly getting a bit creative in a way you haven't felt before. Rather than dip into where he knows you’ll be wet and stuff you full, he's mapping the entire area with expert touch, until he happens upon the nub of you that takes his full, thorough attention. 

Once he's got it, Hawks' rubbing grew distracting, very quickly. 

It's a good spot– the spot.

It's just little circles, why does this feel like it's numbing me straight to my brain…

Dammit, those teasing looks. You moaned, shutting your eyes to focus down. 

Your brain traipsed nearer and nearer to a fuzzy state, as was each word pushed out with lidded eyes: cast to him for an answer. 

"I-- mmmm.. What the hell you doing, and why'sitfeelsogood?..." 

Hawks drank them in and studied you with a proud but soft expression, watching you slip closer and closer to what he wanted. With bated breath, he nosed close to your ear,

"Gonna make you cum, sweet thing." Hawks cooed ever so lovingly. "Gonna go nice and slow~ just relax for me, deal?"

“B-but you haven't even-”

“I know~” kisses start getting littered on your neck, “I know, but I'm easy, babe. Wanna get you warmed up a bit, too. Only fair to my lady with that pretty, pretty mouth of hers, y'know? I hafta make things even~”

A broken hum in the affirmative, you give in and sink towards his neck and let him touch. 

“I– it's… it's not as easy for me, though… might take a while, n’ you shouldn’t hafta wait so long.. I don’t- know if I can…”

You’re never short on reactive noises, but your shyness overtook when the warm fluttering waves dominated your focus. It was too much and not enough; and between Hawks’ ministrations and his words, you had a hard time pinning your thoughts down on anything at all. 

“We don't have a timeline, sweet’eart,” your loving boyfriend nuzzles you, “s’just you and me here. Lemme love on you a little, hm?”

That voice of his- low and rolling, like he uses to talk to his higher ups in order to get away with his charming bullshit- was doing something powerful to you now.

"You sound amazing like this. All let loose and open for me?” Hawks lays on the praise thick, “Oh, I could listen to you all day and night. Just might do that.. mmm, feels good to touch you like this, too."

Fuck, Keigo. 

"Wanted to, for the longest time.. wanted to feel how much you missed me, if you miss me as much as I miss you... I want to listen to you breathe, like we did before. Hear you sing your own little birdie-songs, and just let everything else fade away.. wanna feel you around me and just let that heat take over -fuck, you're so wet, aren't you…”

Fuck, Keigo… 

“Wanted… to lay you back down on that sofa in my office that first day you said you'd come n’ meet me for lunch. Almost kept you all’to myself. Even after fighting every fuckin’ thing in sight between here to Tokyo, filthy as sin- I wanted you, even then..."

He’s kissing down your torso now, speaking this lovesick poetry straight to your core. 

To his retreating warmth, you grasped along his arm for his hand until you connected.

"Didn't fucking matter though, did it sweet’eart? You had my whole heart in a chokehold, I know that now– but God was I such a damned idiot for waitin’ so long. All I wanted was to tell you how much I loved you... N’tell you everything I do, and how I do it. All the stories you want– they're yours. Knowing I have you to come back to... To come home to..."

Next to bursting, your breaths came sharp and painfully arousing.

 "Keigo~~"

Ever the enticing hero, Hawks slunk down on his belly -ear to your abdomen- speaking right to you. Granting you the sweetest words he can muster in the gentlest voice- you feel closer than ever to the man claiming he's always been yours. 

"M’never letting 'nother day go by…” Hawks praised you with needy fingers still dancing around your folds, “Gonna swear to you, every single chance I get: how much I want you... adore you.. how much I fucking love you."

"Fuck, Keigo~~!" 

Your back tipped off the bed and suddenly, you felt attacked by the strangest surge of need that you gripped his wrist still; willing it to.. not stop- pull away? Or pull nearer?

He peeks up to you again with a devilish smirk. Popping up with a passionate lift of his wing’s assist, Hawks grumbles teases against your neck, 

"Bout to fly off into the clouds, are we?"

You whined beautifully; or at least, you think he'd say so. Through your head swims, swirling in all of his confessions of one-sided pining, you tried to beg for the unknown: 

Things feel tight, and achey.

"Wai-- Kei, I can’t-"

"Yes, you can," Hawks pressed into your neck and sped up his hand, "Yes you can, sweet thing. Let go, you're so close."

Breath was hard to come by. Little nosies grew high and light in your moans, and you're clutching at Hawks to come back up to you, seeking his protection and his warmth- higher and higher as your impending, ultimate high dangled mysteriously in front of you.

But no, he's back onto his belly with nothing but kisses to your midsection and some open mouthed nibbles at your skin on his way. 

Honestly, you had no real clue how this could happen with what he was doing, how he moved so expertly and pinpointed this edge of pleasure and agony for you with amazing precision- all by some fanciful words. 

This was different from any encounter you've had before. You think you know why, too, since it was apart of your draw to him in the first place- 

You are stuck on his voice. His mind. His inner man under all the showmanship. It all comes out through a honey-sweet tone that means every secret he spills is true. And he knows that'll strike to the core of you; you're a wordsmith, after all. He turns poetic, because he knows that will resonate with your artistic heart. 

It's working, because you’re  pulsing everywhere  and  need him so badly-

"Shit, Keigohoney, please!!" you begged- near tears- cupping his strong neck and looking for his assurance and safety.

–only said object of your affections is too into this, and aims to please and tease your way through to finishing. 

“What's that, baby? Whaddyou need?”

“I-I wan’ you, ughhh…” 

Those needs melted into moans the more you feel him pet and stroke. 

Your darling boy simply smiles and kisses you tender and quick against those trembling lips.

"I got you," Hawks rasped, his tone becoming urgent and coaxing, excitement lighting his eyes and nodding along with you as you convinced yourself: 

…this was new, but going to be oh-so worth it, just like he said- how he promised- 

Hawks bobs his head while he picks up the speed of his fingers on your clit, 

"You're gonna come for me, yeah? Gonna come hard and fast and you're gonna love every second of it, c'mon-- I got you, I'm right here."

You begged in half-whimpers.

‘I'm right here,’ the bed seems to agree- currently being rutted against by Hawks’ more hybrid tendencies, with you in between: 

"You're gonna feel so good. You don't need to beg… there's nothing but all the time in the world, nothing but this room, this bed. Nothin’ but your Keigo. Just you and me here."

Your very heart rose to the surface, slurring your words,

“Love you-…”

"Mm. I hear how much you love me," his moan into your ear to ramp up your pleasure, and make you cry out, “N’ I love you, too, little dove.”

He's caressing you even faster, but equally as light. It's not a push, but a thrum of constant pressure.

 "My girl’s almost ready to cum, isn't she?"

"FUCK yes!" you moaned at the change of pace. You're a panting mess and embarrassed by it– but  he's so excited to see it.

Chancing a look at him, Hawks is a man starved. Just touching you alone, he's heaving big breaths.

"That feels good, huh?” Hawks growls- nearing feral, “Gonna be even better with my cock inside you."

 It's the key to unlock your next cry.

"GODS, fuck me now!!"

"Not. Yet.”

Hawks tips your chin up with a possessive hold on your neck. His palm -gloveless since this began- cradles you from underneath, bringing your gaze to his fire-lit eyes.

“You go first. Then I'll fuck right into you, just like you want. You cum first for me, yeah? You gonna cum?"

"Yes~" you begged, breathless and in a trance under him, "Yes yes, please, I'll co-- ahh, I'm- ah.."

Hawks with his controlled strength squeezed his hand ever so gently, craning your head up and up, grinding with your leg in perfect rhythm with his hand's curl.

"That's it-- there you go, c'mon. C'mon."

Hawks spat his passions again and again, delicious in its roughness.

Then, you finally sobbed until it silenced you–

You’re jumping up against the weight slotted to you -his weight- but immediately stilled by Hawks' hard kisses over the column of your throat: kisses adorned with canines that bite when you start to shake through your pleasure.

Ultimate relief gushed out of you while you twitched and crashed against him, riding out his  hand to your body's high.

As the shocks spilled over, you're gasping- eyes wide open. 

Then as quick as it came, your entire body gave up its ghost; limp and clutching close to your anchor while he started chuckling in complete rapture,

“Atta girl, atta girl!! You did it, baby, I knew you could!”

He's celebrating this win, over and over as if it's his own. It was a vain effort since your ears felt stuffed with cotton from the exertion you'd just been put through, and could barely make anything out with the headrush ebbing away. The only thing you could register was Hawks’ frame bracing himself up on an elbow above you– your source of shelter.

Veritable alpha energy coating you from top to bottom, you relish each passing second of settling down easy while receiving little assuring kisses along your hot skin. 

Well, at first, they were kisses. Then some longer ones. Then a few licks along your neck working to cool you: he was tasting your sweat.

"Ohhhh-ho that's my best girl! You were amazing to watch- fuck~~. That was the most gorgeous thing I ever did see, hmmm... Oh, poor thing, can you hear me? Shhh hey, you. Can you hear me alrigh’?"

His voice was turning playful, and when you finally open your eyes, the dizzying sensation had gone away finally. But while the intensity had dimmed, it only reignited your heat when you met your lover's adoring features. 

Brilliant half smile on display, Hawks brushes your hair back and presses some loving forehead kisses across you… eliciting light breathless chuckles in thanks to the touch.

Hawks centered back on your flushed cheeks and lax brows- free from all tension,

"Back down on the ground with me?"

"...Holy shit."

"Good shit?"

"Good shit~"

“Color?”

“Golden.” Better than green, when it’s him.

You giggled in relief, shuddering against the cold and turning to the side aghast at yourself. Only in the let down of your post-bliss did you realize how fast you'd turned into a full sap the moment his hands were on you. 

And after being in control of his pleasure for so long before… he flipped a switch and blew your mind. 

Hawks was an incredibly fast learner, though was there any surprise there? You cover your neck for a second and gave a glowing laugh again, "Wow, my throat is tired."

Your blond beauty atop you simply stroked still-damp fingers along the supple edge of your breast. The experimental touch could hardly be considered fondling due to the soulful look of reverence in how he handled them. He'd be sure to shower up with you later and clean it off. 

"You were enjoying yourself- I’d call that a good job~”

"I don' think I can make any sandwiches for you after that one," you limply waved your hand: "no bones right now."

“Haha! No offerings needed, lovedove. It's entirely my pleasure.”

He’s your absolute angel, you’re convinced now more than ever.

Hawks rumbled happily, "Tired girl, huh. You do look pretty wiped out." He twirls your side swept hair aside. “S’pose I won’t be making good on my promise to fill ya up this time, will I?”

The tease prominent on his mind (and now yours), you focus in: broke from the daze and blindly shift your leg up and over Hawks’ thigh- pulling him in flush to you and grinding up with a smirk, 

"Not that tired, pretty bird."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Guy 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can’t seem to unhook himself from your life.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Note: don't act like you don't want a meanie

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The stump of the cone drips down your fingertips as the car jolts to a stop. You lurch against your seatbelt and hold up your hand and cup the other beneath, trying to keep the melting mess concentrated. Chris cranks the shifter as he idles in front of your mother’s house. 

“Hey, told ya not to get that all over,” he sneers. 

“Sorry, I...” you utter. “I’ll get out.” 

You balance the cone with one hand you do your best not to smear the mess as you unbuckle the seat belt. He huffs as he turns off the engine and his own belt recoils sharply. You glance over as he gets out and slams the door. He stomps around the car and wrenches open your side. 

“Out, now,” he barks. 

You obey and climb out, stepping up on the curb to examine the front of your shirt. He snaps the door shut and snarls again. 

“Keep pushing your chest out like that, someone might just take it as an invitation,” he grits. 

You wince and look up at him, hunching your shoulders. He makes everything you do a crime. As if you’re intentionally trying to offend him. 

“Well, thanks for the ride,” you mutter. “I’ll just go--” 

“I’m comin’ with ya. Mom’s waitin’,” he insists. “Sure, she’s real worried about you. Girl your age can get up to all sortsa trouble, can’t she?” 

He points you up the slanted walk and you glare ahead. Your eyes hurt as they long to roll. He walks beside you, crowding you on the thin blocks of pavement. As you get to the steps, he reaches over and taps your ass. 

“Go on, get up,” he orders you. 

You squeak and hurry up the steps. You just want to get away from him. He probably wants the same thing with the way he speaks to you. 

You wrench the door back with your free hand and angle inside. He catches the door behind you, brushing close as he follows you inside. You feel a tickle on your lower back and hurry up. 

“Gail,” Chris calls past you. 

There’s no answer. You don’t worry about it. Most of the time, your mom isn’t home when you get in. It never bothers you as you like having the house to yourself. 

You go into the kitchen and toss what’s left of your cone. You rinse your hands and ignore the man as he trudges around your house. Your mother’s squeaky hinge whines and he comes back out with a harrumph. 

You dry off and go back into the front room. He’s not far behind as he flops onto the couch with a growl. You peek over as he pulls out his phone and taps on it with his thumb. He jams the screen so hard you expect it to crack. 

“See where you get it from, huh,” he scoffs. “Damn woman.” 

You quickly flit away before you can hear any more of his gripes. He just seems the type to look for anything to be mad about. You might be a cynic, but you’re not an asshole about it. 

You change out of your uniform and toss it into the basket by the door. You’re annoyed. If he had driven a bit slower, you could have worn it at least one more time. 

You shimmy out of your pants and pull on some linen shorts and find a loose tee patterned with sunflowers. You stretch out on your bed and put on the next episode of your serial addiction. As you settle in, you hear him moving around in the kitchen. 

From what you can guess, your mom isn’t even there. She tends to do that. Just wander in and out whenever it suits you. If you were less of an introvert, you might have actually gotten in trouble as a teen with so little parental supervision. Come to think of it, she seems to have lived your teenage rebellion for you. 

A pounding on the door shakes you from your Netflix-induced trance. You sit up and sigh as you go to the door. It’s bad enough he’s getting in the way of your late night snacking but not he’s interrupting your binge. 

You crack the door open an inch and look out, “she’s probably down at Jim’s,” you say. 

“I didn’t ask that,” he brings his hand up to grim the door frame. “Did I?” 

“No,” you frown. 

“'No, sir,'” he wags his index at you. “You should try a smile. Be a lot prettier if ya did.” 

You blink. The only response you have will only piss him off. You clamp your lips tight and shrug instead. 

“There’s shit all in the cupboards.” 

You squint and shake your head, “okay?” 

“I mean, you can figure it out, can’t you? Man’s gotta eat.” 

You tilt your head in confusion, “what?” 

“Don’t tell me ya can’t cook neither. What kinda man’s gonna want a woman can’t do nothing?” He snorts. 

“I-- I don’t want to,” you blurt out. “Cook for yourself.” 

You push the door but he slaps his hand against it and forces it inward, “what did you just say, girl?” 

“I... you’re here for my mom. Go down to Jim’s and tell her to cook--” 

“You’re right. I’m here ‘cause your mommy’s a slut. Any other man stick around, huh? Pay for her bills? Her food? Don’t sound like men to me, and you,” he grabs your chin and you whimper, “don’t speak like much of a lady.” 

“Let go of me,” you smack his wrist, “ow.” 

“See, I knew your mama isn’t shit. The way she acts, shoulda figured you’d be the same.” He yanks you into the hall, “don’t worry, I’ll teach ya manners, girl.” 

“Ah, you’re hurting me--” 

“What do you think your husband’s gonna do when you get mouthy, huh? I’m saving you a lot of hard lessons,” he shoves you past him and you hit the wall with your shoulder. He snaps his knuckles against your ass. “I saw a box of macaroni, think you can boil some water or is that too much for that empty head of yours?” 

“What is your problem?” You turn and lean against the door. “I didn’t do anything and... and...” your words fizzle out as you see the way his icy eyes sear. You gulp. “Why are you so mean?” 

“Mean?” He laughs, “keep talking and I’ll put you over my knee. Now take your ass to the kitchen and make some dinner. I know you ain’t some child eating ice cream for supper, hm? Can’t be walking around like that.” 

He reaches for you and tugs the hem of your tee, letting it go so the fabric springs back up and you feel air flow along the underside of your tits. You quickly cross your arms and try to dissolve into the wall. You stare at him, annoyed but frightened. It occurs to you that he’s a lot stronger than you. 

“Well, you gonna walk around dressed like a woman, may as well be one,” he points down the hall. “You won’t like me when I’m real hungry.” 

You peel yourself off the wall and cower as you pass him. You feel his gaze on you, as oppressive as his presence. You bite down on your lip, as much to keep your thoughts inside as to keep from screaming. You should’ve known that one day your mother would bring home the wrong sort. Well, she always does but they can’t be bothered to stick around. 

You enter the kitchen and go to the cupboard. You search around for the sole box of mac and cheese. That’s your insurance policy. Your mother rarely grocery shops. She only ever goes to the bar or the liquor store. She drinks, she doesn’t eat. 

You grab a pot and fill it with water. As you light the burner, you glance over your shoulder. Chris stands in the doorway, watching, like a warden in a jail. You add salt to the water. You step back and wait for it to boil. The silence scrapes your ears. 

You sway listlessly and another growl rolls up his throat. He clicks his tongue. “Must get good tips down at the ice cream joint, huh? Wearing your cutoffs like you're at the beach.” 

You turn and frown, “...what?” 

“Nah, nah,” he shifts to stand inside the door, leaning his back on the wall, “not ‘what’. You say, ‘sorry, sir, my sweet little head’s empty and I don’t understand. Please explain to me what you mean.’ 

Your lips part and you stare at him. He snickers. 

“The way you look at me, I know you don’t got much going on in there, do ya, girl? So let’s think. You go down to the parlour in those jean shirts, wagging your ass as the boys, and they toss you a couple dollars extra. Hell, I bet those pudgy-bellied dads with all their regret and whiny brats like ya too.” He sniffs and his eyes pinpoint, “keep that up, you’ll find out how much you could make on a pole, flirting with all those greasy dicks down at Bunnies.” 

You recoil at the mention of the strip club. The very thought makes your skin crawl. And your shorts aren’t that short. Your boss said they’re just fine and it’s so hot out in the summer. 

“Shouldn’t flaunt it if you’re not selling it,” he says. 

You stare at the floor and drop your arms, tugging the hem of your shorts to make sure they aren’t bunched. “Sir, I’m not... flaunting it.” 

“Coulda fooled me.” He exhales loudly. “You wanna end up like your ma?” 

No, you don’t want to end up with a man like him. You keep that thought to yourself. You shake your head and take the box of the macaroni. You tear off the top as the water starts to boil. 

“So maybe you should take some advice from someone older and wiser. Do you know what your mama’s problem is?” He asks. 

You shake your head again. You dump the noodles into the water. You go to the drawer and open it to grab a wooden spatula. As you do, he shuts it on your fingers. You yelp as he keeps your hand trapped. You look up at him as he stands close. 

“She can’t hang onto a man. She’s too easy. No guy’s gonna take care of a fucking mess like her. And what good is she without a man lookin’ after her? Living in this hellhole with some deadbeat daughter--” 

“That’s...” you whimper and squirm as you try to free your fingers. “Ow, please--” 

“It is true,” he insists against your unspoken protest. “Whatcha think you’ll be doin’ in another few years? You’re gonna age out and those tips are gonna dry up like sand.” He taunts as he leans in, “and you’re only happiness will be at the bottom of a glass--” 

“Stop. Please,” you beg as the drawer crushes your knuckles. You can’t bear it anymore. You put your hand on his hard stomach and push. “Ow! It hurts--” 

He lets up on the drawer but only to grab your arm. He twists your wrist around and you bend with the angle of your arm. He has you facing the tile as he hyperextends your elbow. You whimper and wiggle your throbbing fingers. 

“See, a woman don’t just need a man to take care of her,” he puts his hand on your ass and brushes up your shorts. “He needs to discipline her.” He pulls his hand away and the drawer rolls open. “And I know your mama didn't do none of that.” 

He rests the spatula against your ass and you twitch, “sir, please, I wasn’t--” 

“Either you shut up and take it like a good girl or each noise means the next one’s harder,” he swings his arm back then forward. The wood strikes your ass in a radiating crack. Your legs tremble and you yowl. “Now what did I say?" 

He spanks you again with the spatula, this time on the other cheek. You grunt behind your teeth and reach back with your other arm. He raps your knuckles with the wood and you recoil. You bend your arm to your chest and he swats you again. Your ass burns from his cruel force. 

He does it again, and again, and again. You try not to make a sound but the whimpers fall out of you. Your arm strains from the angle and his unyielding grip, your ass pulsing in agony. The spatula thwaps down over and over until your eyes are streaming and all you can muster are hollow gasps. 

He lets you go and you crumple to the floor, holding yourself on your hands and knees. He whips the spatula down to it hits the tile and bounces. You wipe your face and look up at him. The air smells like fire. He sighs as his eyes drift to the stove, the water boiling over. 

“Fuck damnit, girl,” he tuts, “figure it the fuck out.” 

He shakes his head and marches out of the kitchen. You stare after him, breathless and battered. You can’t believe he just did that.  

[pennjammin]

geeked up.

you fucked around and snuck him an aphrodisiac, so now all you’ve got to do is survive until the effects wear off!

content: smut, established relationships, bondage, edging, overstim, degrading, oral sèx, public sèx, exhibitionism, drüg/alcohol use, afab!reader, gn!reader on nanami, spit kink, masochism

incl pairings: kento, toji, satoru, suguru

word count. 8.3k

soundtrack 🌧️💿: sativa ft. swae lee

COCK THAT TEA / NANAMI.

A cup of hot tea. That's all Nanami had requested.

The lemon stimulant you’d mixed into the drink had made him wrap up his work early, clamoring downstairs, his eyes glassy with desire.

"Darling," he breathes out, staring at the floor, holding the cup in his shaky hand. "Are you busy?”

He’s so polite about it. At first.

“What ever is the matter, Ken?” you question, running your cleaning rag in slow circles over the dining room table, standing on your toes as you stretch across the surface. “I’m trying to clean.”

He nearly growls, eyes shutting and reopening with frustration. His fingers flutter at his side like butterfly wings and he takes a step towards you.

“I need to be inside of you,” he blurts, looking momentarily embarrassed before his face darkens, then he looks up at you with viper eyes.

“Right now?” you fake your surprise, walking around the table to stand in front of him. “But the dining room is so filthy…” You watch as his nostrils flare; he’s clearly taking in your scent.

“You know I would never force you,” he grits out, voice choked. “But also - mmh - p-pretty please?”

His arms come up, either side of you, and he moves to pin your body between himself and the table. He releases the teacup on the table and his fingertips grip onto the surface so harshly that his nails make tiny imperfections in the wood.

“My God, are you feeling alright?” you stall, pressing the back of your hand to his flushed forehead. “You look unwell.”

“I feel unwell, baby,” he says, tone serious and apologetic. “I feel like I might die if I can’t put my cock in you. That is unreasonable.”

Even as he says the words, it’s clear in his eyes that he doesn’t care how irrational it is. He wants to act on his urges so badly.

You rest your hand over the painful lump in his pants. “Is that so?”

“No, please don’t,” he breathes. “D-Don’t wanna lose my control…”

“You won’t,” you purr, slipping his zipper down. “You’re gonna be good and let me take care of you for once, ‘kay?”

His shoulders visibly slump a bit as the pressure from his hard cock is released by his unzipped pants. You take it a step further and dip your fingernails underneath the waistband of his Calvin’s, softly scratching over the blond happy trail.

“No, no,” Nanami’s head falls onto your shoulder, full body shudders coming out of him.

“I’m just trying to help, Ken,” you quip, rolling your eyes, moving to pull your hand out; but in the same beat his large hand clamps around your wrist and shoves it down deeper.

He jerks forward against you, a whine for help coming out of his mouth and landing breathily in your ear canal. You try not to shudder yourself, wanting to maintain the facade that you’re in control.

“Please, just take it out,” he begs.

How could you deny him? Your usually composed, control-taking husband is begging you for something. It breaks your heart as much as it nearly makes you cream your undies.

"Alright," you say calmly, clamping your fist around his shaft, squeezing harshly as you remove it from its barrier.

Nanami whispers gratefully in your ear - over and over - until it fades into moans, because of you sliding the pad of your thumb over his oh-so sensitive cockhead, spreading his precum all over the throbbing skin.

You have his heartbeat in your palm. You feel it racing faster with each stroke of your finger. The organ jerks in response and so does Nanami.

His hips begin to mindly grind back and forth, his torso rubbing yours, hardening your nipples and exposing your arousal.

You let his length slide in and out of your fist, and his hands grip onto your breasts like they can save him from ruin. His hair has fallen down around his head, sweat ruining his gelled style. He looks so desperate.

You'd only wanted to see if the aphrodisiac would remove some of his patience. He's always so kind, slow, gentle. You were writhing to see him lose control, have his way with you, rough you up. You’d hardly expected it to turn him this submissive and needy.

Fwip! Fwip! The sound of your top disappearing makes you gasp. You’d gotten too lost in thought and allowed him to get your shirt off, leaving you in just underwear.

Your thighs turn in on themselves, but they’re no match for his strength. It’s as if you'd let a feral panther out of its cage, his nails clawing at the waistband, threatening to shred it as his hips pick up speed.

On a whim, you release his shaft and put your palm to his tip, running it over the shiny pink skin. Nanami’s neck nearly snaps back. You rotate your palm over the tip and rip! his iron grip accidentally tears your underwear off.

He doesn’t notice, as he maintains his grip on the fabric with his eyes closed. He freezes in place as you violate his sensitive tip and the underside.

“Agh - shit, shit, nonono…” Nanami spits out.

Until finally he’s had enough.

In exactly three movements, he has your spine curved painfully against his torso, hand clasping a handful of your hair and pulling it against his chest, your shredded undies fallen somewhere on the floor. His groans in your ear are wet and raunchy, coming from the depths of his throat.

His cock pushes through your soaking ring of muscle, sliding through the ridges until it rams into your cervix. He has no regard for your pain level, punishing you even as tears brim your eyes. His hand cracks harshly on your asscheek, before scratching the sensitive skin and making you scream.

"My love, you feel so fucking good.” The lewd words leave his lips in an uncharacteristic way.

You want to roll your hips in time with his but he releases your hair and brings his hand around to cup your neck - faltering you as he thrusts deeper, the painfully solid cock violating your walls. If not for your pussy flooding the veiny organ, your entrance would be raw from the harsh stroking and lack of regard for your pleasure.

With a release of your throat, Nanami's hand moves to the back of your head and forces it down against the table, cheek pressed to the wood. You look at the abandoned drink at the other end. Now you’re watching as the cold liquid ripples through the teacup with each rhythmic thrust of your husband splitting you from hole to hole.

“F-Fuck, Ken, take it easy,” you whine, knowing it’s a full fib.

You want him deeper than he already is, cock bottomed out, heavy balls sticking to your clit each time he goes all the way in. Your internal organs feel like they’re being bent out of shape, pressure in your belly a bit painful, but mostly exhilarating.

“I-I can’t, baby,” Nanami grunts from above. “Your pussy has me so out of control.”

You decide to admit, in a sultry moment of regret what you’d done. Your pussy can’t take all the credit for making him this feral, can it? Nanami doesn’t respond much, but his cock begins to take it out on you.

His veins pop from his wrists as he pushes your head further into the wood, cheek squishing in on itself, muffling your sobs.

He moans in response to his new rhythm, grunting your name over and over, mixed with naughty minx, take me, feel good?, mhmm.

He hikes his hips at an upward angle and the new spot he's hitting is foul, causing you to scream so loud the noise reverberates off of the walls.

You put a leg up, knee to the edge of the table for stability. Your arms stretch across the surface and you feel drool trickle out of your mouth - your mind so fucked out that you can't even bring yourself to moan.

"Where's my spouse?" Nanami questions rhetorically, shoving a deep thrust in you while cracking his palm on your stinging asscheek. "Why can't I hear them?"

You swallow, trying to stop some of the drool, attempting to answer him but all that comes out is a guttural cry for mercy.

Nanami pretends not to hear it, and runs his nails along your pretty arched back.

His fingers yank your head in the direction of his old cup, “Be sure to look at what got you into this ordeal, dear. Stimulants in my tea, really?”

Your moans return when you feel the pool of fire deep within your belly, and Nanami feels you fluttering your walls around him in an attempt to fight off the orgasm. But he recognizes your moans all too well, so he drills his hips harder to push it out of you.

"Ken! No!" you cry, trying to hold it off, but just before you release he's spilling his own hot spurts into you.

You feel each rope hit the opening to your cervix and your cunt sends you into the harshest orgasm you've had your entire marriage; your one leg that remained on the floor giving out, leaving you to dangle on the edge of the table.

But Nanami's strokes show no sign of slowing down. You feel the veins in his cock drumming against your slick ridges, and his length remains solid.

“Mm, so much wetter now,” he notes, his cum nearly sticking his balls to to your clit every time he shoves his groin against your ass.

The noise that comes from your cum mixing together as lubricant is so nasty; it makes your toes curl as you lay on your stomach and continue to take the pain.

You’ll spend the rest of the evening begging him for mercy and not receiving it. When you think he’s finally done, he carryies you upstairs, telling you that he’s going to give you a massage to calm your strained legs.

But when you end up on your side as Nanami stuffs you full of kids for the sixth or seventh time, you realize the massage had been part of his plan, and he gives no hint that he’s near finished with you.

KNOTTY BOY / TOJI.

Toji had arrived home from work right on schedule. You'd been in the middle of preparing breakfast for dinner, the kitchen smelling of bacon grease and syrup.

He'd come in and given you a quick kiss, then disappeared to the back of the apartment to shower.

While he was gone, you'd finished cooking, and loaded his plate up with sausage, bacon, and eggs. Then, you plopped a tower of pancakes in the leftover space. This is when you ripped open a packet of honey from the gas station. You'd seen it on the counter one day whilst getting snacks and, you were curious to see if the rumors were true.

You’d felt a twinge of guilt as you drizzled the honey all over his pancakes and then hid your naughty work by covering it with maple syrup. It almost felt like drugging him, but you knew it wasn’t, and the worst that’ll happen is consensual rounds of sex. You’d disposed of the empty wrapper in the trash just in time.

Toji comes back from his shower with damp hair and oily skin, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts that cling low on his v-line. Your chest heats in response, but you maintain an innocent smile as you pad over to him with his dinner.

He sits down at the kitchen table, ready to dive into your delicious meal with a thankful grunt.

"Not hungry?" he questions, noticing that you remain standing behind him, rubbing some of the tension from his shoulders.

"I had a heavy lunch," you lie. "How was work?"

Toji pokes his fork into a sausage link before bringing it to his mouth, "Hot. Annoying. Lil' bitch Shiu was moaning about his sunburn all day."

You giggle, observing the darker shade on Toji's skin from where he has the privilege of tanning instead of frying in the sun. He's glowing like a cinnamon roll coated in sweet icing, and you want to drag your tongue over his moisturized torso.

"Well, least you're home now," you kiss his cheek. "I missed you. I hate when you have to work such long shifts."

He sighs. "Gotta do what I gotta do, puss. Have ta'make sure you have everything you want."

"That so?" you coo. "There’s something I want right now."

Toji reaches for the cup of orange juice you'd poured for him, thick eyebrow raised, “Spit it out.”

"Have you ever considered letting me tie you up? You know, 'stead of the other way around?" The words are out before you can stop them, and you're immediately writhing in regret when there's silence for several moments.

Toji takes a sip of the juice, and then turns to face you. "Needy brat, you thinkin' about tying me up while I'm tryin'a eat?"

You tap your fingers on his traps, trying to build a shovel to dig yourself out of this hole. "Actually, I've been thinking about it all day," you admit. "I was just worried you might be too tired for… you know."

His fork pokes into the pancake stack. You’re overcome with a sense of urgency. The minute he ingests the honey, the timer begins.

Toji chuckles and tilts his head awkwardly, rolling his neck. "You know I would never let you go to bed without a couple of nuts, ma." He takes a big bite of the cakes. "Didn't expect that, though.”

"O-Only if you want, of course," you throw out quickly, suddenly more nervous.

Toji swallows and turns to wrap an arm around you, pulling you flush against his body as he sticks his fork back into his food. "If you're gonna be in control, ya can't backtrack. Gotta stand on business.”

You swallow, "Well, unlike you, I need your compliance because I can't just throw you around like you weigh nothing."

Toji's body shakes against you as he takes another bite of pancake. You know the effects take a bit to kick in, but you aren't sure how much time you have left now.

"Would like to see you try to throw me around, though,” he says before adding, “do ya even know how to tie a knot, lil’ girl?”

"Of course," you say, offended. "I've watched you plenty of times."

"Usually while you're already on your second orgasm and cockdrunk, but..." he shrugs, "we'll see.”

You part from him, allowing him to finish his dinner as you collect the ropes from the closet. You untangle them as you wait. You're buzzing with excitement, blood pumping through your ears and your cunt, as you can already imagine his large torso being pierced with puffy red marks from the ropes digging into his baby-soft skin.

You're just about ready to drag him away from the kitchen by his ears when Toji finally comes into the room, sucking leftover syrup off of his thumb, eyeballing you.

"Mm, did you do something different to the pancakes, puss?" he questions. "Might be a new favorite of mine."

You smile and shrug. "Nope, don't think so." 

He buys it, or if he doesn't, he doesn't press the topic further. Instead his eyes travel over the wooden chair in the center of your bedroom.

“Welp, let the games begin,” he says, holding out his arms as he releases himself to be at your mercy.

Around ten minutes later, his sits with his arms pinned behind his back. His torso is attached to the back of the chair while his ankles are bound to the legs.

“Well done,” Toji grunts, attempting to tug on the ropes and being unsuccessful in loosening the knots. “My lil’ brat does pay attention.”

You lean over him, putting your hands on his shoulders. His cock has definitely hardened by now, sitting pretty in his lap as you’d requested he take his shorts off before being tied up.

You watch as his thighs flex and his cock jerks up, tip glistening under the warm lighting in your bedroom.

“Agh, fuck,” he spits. “Show me what you got, dollface.”

You continue to stand, fingers linked together in front of you, implying you have no intention of touching him. “What do you mean?” you ask innocently.

“Brat, don’t piss me off,” he grunts, a vein in his neck throbbing as he tilts his neck, fighting harder against his restraints now.

You giggle innocently and bring your knee up to the meeting of his thighs, ghosting it over his light brown tip. “You doing okay there?”

His eyes flutter closed, beads of sweat appearing on his brow line just under his hair. “Fuck. Stop doing that shit.”

“Or what?” you taunt, knowing he’s trapped.

“Oh, I’m going to kill you,” he threatens, but he can’t help but let out a delicious grunt when you glide your knee up his wanton shaft - back down again.

“What is it you always call me?” you tap your chin, pretending to think about it. “Needy whore.”

“Fuck you,” he grits, fists balled up behind him. You see his fingers attempting to reach the bottom of the knot but to no avail. He has no way out of this and he knows it. You’re watching the aphrodisiac kick into his system in real time.

His pupils expand when he looks up at you. His cheeks are slightly pink, and his bottom lip is underneath his teeth.

“Okay, okay,” you say, rolling your eyes. You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it slowly past your stomach, then over your chest. You shake your tits in his face, and he leans forward, snapping his teeth, like a shark threatening to take a chomp out of your flesh.

“Quit playing with me, Y/N,” he says sharply. “I’mma fuck you up. Bruise your little uterus so bad.”

“Would love to see you try,” you crack, pulling the fabric off your head and shaking your hair free. You know just how bad your hair turns him on, how much he enjoys nearly ripping it from your scalp as he delivers painful backshots.

He jerks against the chair, causing you to jump a little. You turn around and sit on his lap.

Toji’s entire body stiffens. “God, why is my shit so sensitive?” The sentence comes out breathy, almost whiny. Toji never allows himself to switch, but you feel you may have unlocked the ten percent of him that likes to be submissive.

“What did you do?” he goes on. “You did something to me - fuck.”

And the moment you'd come clean, you were already bouncing deliciously on his cock, watching as he squirmed against his restraints and cussed in your ear.

"You're fuckin' dead," he keeps saying, before giving up and breaking into a pathetic little, "fu-uck. Mmh, yeah, ride me baby. Gonna fill you up."

"No you're not," you say, noting how his cock begins to twitch and using your knees to lift yourself up and slide it out of you, leaving your cunt pulsing with ache.

"What the fuck - get back here," he growls. His arms pull against the ropes, and you fear at any moment they're going to pop.

"This is payback, Toji." You look at your nails and then sit yourself back down, facing him with your cunt touching his cock but not allowing him the pleasure of being inside of it. "All those times you overstimulate me, or edge me.”

You lean forward and kiss him on the nape of his neck. He howls, jerking his cock up against you for even the slightest bit of pleasure.

You're just about to drag your teeth across the prominent vein in his neck when a terrifying shred! sound enters the air.

You sit up straight and stare down at Toji in horror, but his face has twisted into a sinister, knowing smile.

"You fucked up, you know that?" he questions, and before you can scramble off of his lap, his arms are around your body, capturing you against his chest.

The next few seconds are a blur. Before you can blink or breathe, the tip of Toji’s cock feels like it’s inside your intestines, your back against your bedroom door as he fucks you against it.

“A honey packet like I’m some booty call?” Toji gripes, drilling his hips into you so mean, that all you can do is slap your hands on his back for mercy. “‘Bout to turn your pussy inside out, demon brat.”

“Toji! Please,” you cry, trying to spread your legs on either side of his hips to make it feel like he isn’t going so deep, but his cockhead is so slick and fat that it’s threatening to crack you open.

His body being covered in oil is not working to your advantage. Your hands are sliding off of him, until you finally give up and take your hands in his hair, and he increases his speed because of it.

“I oughta chain you to the bed with a vibrator on your clit,” he threatens. “Since you wanna play with me. Fuck. So fucking creamy, ma.” His head falls to stare at your cunt as his cock drills in and out of it, white substance layering on his groin and between your folds.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry,” you whine into his ear, “o-ooh. Shit.”

“‘Sorry baby,’” Toji mocks. “Yeah. ‘M sorry too. Sorry that you ain’t gonna be able to walk for a few days. Hold on tight, brat.”

SHOOT MY STEAM / GETO.

"Baby, can you pass me my bottle?"

The sentence you've been waiting to hear for about thirty minutes now.

You're at the gym with your boyfriend. You've been resting on the bench, watching him do his sets, waiting for him to ask for his water.

Suguru knows you always mix in his electrolyte packets for him, only this time, you'd found a convenient aphrodisiac powder to put inside instead. You wanted to see just how hot and sweaty he could really get with it flowing through his veins while he trained.

Only one issue with that: you’d accidentally forgotten about putting it in there, so you’d taken a fat swig a while back and now you’re paying for it as you sit and watch him.

"C'mon, monk, back on your feet," he says, taking a deep breath after chugging some of his water. He places it next to you and then reaches his hands out to help you stand. "'M gonna lose motivation if you're not up with me."

You swallow thickly and force a smile, before taking his hands and rising back up to follow him to the weights. Your body is tingling, cunt ripe with desire.

You decide to do some lunges to distract yourself while Suguru works on the lat pulldown, and you stare with heat in your chest as his back muscles flex under the cut-off sleeves of his shirt.

You think about your nails sliding over the sweaty skin to incite dangerous growls from your boyfriend, making him fall apart as he pumps you full of dick. Your head spins.

You attempt to shake the thoughts away and continue lunging until he finishes his pulldowns. When he stands, an erection is painfully obvious in his shorts.

He walks over to you, voice low. "Well, I guess this means I'm doing good," he comments, pointing to his new friend, and then gesturing to you. "It's also probably because your legs are looking good, angel. Damn."

You giggle and walk to drop off the weights. "Are you gonna be able to keep working out with... that?" You’re mostly asking for yourself, because if you’re forced to sit here and watch him workout with a boner, you may combust.

Suguru glances at himself in the mirror, rolling his shoulder blades. "It'll go away in a second. It's just all the blood pumping through me."

You blink. Your self control is dwindling but you try to redirect your focus. "'Kay, well I'll be over here starting some squats."

Suguru nods and pulls you in for a sweaty kiss, "Alright, love you."

God, you wish he hadn’t done that. Now everywhere his body touched you feels like a thousand needles. You want to grab him the minute he attempts to pull away, but you’re frozen in place, the fuzzy memory of his sweaty lips on yours making your panties damper.

And the next twenty minutes are history. You watch as Suguru loses more and more of his focus, his painful erection never coming close to dying. He slows down in his workouts, his eyes lingering on you much longer than before. You even watch him blink harshly, attempts running futile at pushing away his feelings. Then at last, he comes to collect you.

Now, you know it's a little unsanitary to be laid out over the sauna bench, Suguru leaning over you as steam and sweat drip from his locks.

You also don't care. The lust in his eyes, the furrow in his brow from where he doesn't understand why he couldn't wait to get home to do this is making your pussy throb around him.

"Fuck me," Suguru’s eyes roll back as he brings one of your slippery legs over his chiseled hip, sides of his cock gliding against your internal ridges. “Feels too fucking good, monk.”

All you can do is whine in response, as the subtle curve in Suguru’s dick causes it to poke the squishy roof of your tunnel. Your arms are trying to hold onto him, but with the steam, the two of you are just sweaty, wet bodies gliding against each other.

His abs rub over your belly and sensitive nipples, and he takes in the way each grind makes you gasp a little harder than before.

"F-fuck, Suguru," you whimper.

"Hah - ngh," he growls in your ear. "Don't say my name like that."

"S-Suguru," you repeat, feeling his nails attempt to dig into your skin before his fingers slide over your wet hips. "Wanna feel your cum."

He shakes his head, slinging water all over your face until you’re envisioning it being his warm semen instead. "N-No, feels too good, don't wanna cum yet."

You continue pushing him. "Cum for me, please?"

"No," Suguru spits, the end coming out breathy as he tries to compose himself.

"Please fill me up," you keep going, knowing that he won't be able to even if he tries.

"Baby," Suguru whines pathetically, but his strokes have noticeably gotten sloppier, needier. "Y-You have to stop."

You shake your head defiantly, before you crash your sweaty lips onto his. You moan against his mouth, taking his bottom lip between your teeth, piercing pressure onto it. His lips part as he continues slipping in and out of you.

Your bodies roll to the side on the sauna bench and continue going at it.

“Can’t get enough,” he mumbles against your mouth. “So wet for me, angel.”

It’s not long before you’re practically shoving him off of you, pussy sore and swollen. But he keeps holding you back onto his cock, making sure you nut on him as many times as he is able to drag it out of you.

Then, after concerns about your time spent in the sauna, you wrap it up - even though Suguru still hasn’t cum himself. But that doesn’t remain the case for long.

You find yourself pressed against the wet shower wall not even five minutes later, only a curtain hiding the two of you from the rest of the people in the bathroom. Suguru keeps his hand clamped over your mouth, whispering in your ear how good girls keep quiet, while making it impossible for you to obey.

And when he finally releases his thick cum all over your asscheek, watching as it instantly washes away under the hot water, he’s sticking it back in just a few seconds later.

Your brain is mushed with ecstasy from the powder, so you hardly notice that you’ve cum on his cock twice already, still ready for more.

GUMMY THROAT / GOJO.

“Want a hit?”

Shoko coughs and turns her wrist to hold her blunt out to you. You sit beside her on the couch and shake your head, holding up the bag in your hand.

“I’m good,” you grin. Inside the bag is edible gummies, which you’ve taken two of, and can already feel your toes stretching.

Shoko nods in understanding and passes it to someone else, leaning back against the couch with her eyelids laying low.

You check your pockets for your other bag, which has libido gummy bears, not edibles. This is the bag you’d handed to Gojo, watching as he’d devoured three obliviously.

“Satoru, you know you shouldn’t have eaten that many,” you’d scolded, trying to play along.

“Relax, my tolerance is higher than yours,” he’d quipped sassily.

But now that Shoko’s party has started to slow down, people disappearing in spurts, others sitting in corners or on the floor because they’re stuck, you and Gojo are having a staring contest - and you know what it means.

His eyes are wide and his fingers are restless. He’s sitting next to Suguru, who’s naively engaged in conversation with a pretty ginger. You’re pretending to ignore Gojo’s clear body language that says he wants to leave so that he can scramble your brains.

You giggle as your head falls on Shoko’s shoulder. Your body feels like it’s lifting off of the couch as the THC begins to flood through your bloodstream. All you can do is grip onto your skirt as if it’ll ground you.

Gojo stands from where he sits and struts over to you, his blue eyes appearing to glow with madness. “Y/N, get up,” he instructs, his voice commanding and unlike him.

“No,” you huff, nuzzling further into Shoko.

“Have it your way.” He reaches down and grabs your wrist, yanking you off of the cushions, and you can distantly hear Shoko laughing as Gojo puts his hand under your thighs and lifts you into his arms.

“Hey-!” you protest as you’re now being hauled princess style, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin with just how harshly he’s holding you.

“It’s way late,” he says. “And you’re high as hell. We need to go.”

“You’re being extra,” you scold, bopping your finger on his nose before letting yourself go limp against him. “Y’sure this is about it being late?”

“No, it isn’t,” he admits. “Watching you sit there and play with your skirt is making me lose my damn mind.”

“But I was hanging out with Shoko,” you pout, and realize he is not taking you towards any exits at all. He’s walking you to the back of the house, near the laundry room. “Gojo, what are you-?”

“I need your throat,” he blurts suddenly, glaring down at you with a compulsory twinkling in his eye. “Happy now? That’s what this is about. Need it so fucking bad.”

You giggle. The air feels crisp and your mind is so free. The room spins and you still feel like you’re floating.

“Okay, but be warned that I have cotton mouth,” you hold up a finger matter-of-factly. “May be a bit dry.”

He reaches the laundry room and pushes the curtain aside. If you were more sober, you’d realize how incredibly risky he’s being, but since you aren’t, you don’t care.

He puts you down in front of the washer, and wraps his fingers around your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing your mouth to open. In the same beat, he tuahs a mean glob of spit in your mouth.

“There,” he whispers. “That should help. Now I need you on your knees.”

He uses his grip on your face to push your head down until your knees collapse and you land on them. He releases you and you look up at him expectantly.

“All this for some head?” you taunt, placing your palms on his thighs. “Not that serious.”

“Yes it is,” he whines, “might die if I can’t shove my cock between those pretty lips.”

He leans down and swipes his thumb across your mouth, flicking your bottom lip and making your eyes flutter. You’re looking at him but not quite seeing him, as the gummies in your system have you spaced out. Your limbs feel like they’re stretching. You dig your nails into Gojo’s pants and he responds with an unearthly growl.

Your face is shadowed immediately, and upon focusing your eyes, you realize there's a fat, peachy cock looming over your face.

You gasp, watching as it comes down and taps you on the nose, fleshy and dripping in precum.

“Satoru-!” is all you can manage to say, as his tip grazes your cheek.

“Open up,” he instructs, and you part your lips slowly, expecting him to shove himself inside but instead he leans forward and sends another drop of saliva down your throat. “Just making sure it’s wet enough.”

“Y- mmh,” you're cut off, because Gojo has rammed the tip of his cock between your lips.

You part your teeth and wrap your tongue on the underside instinctually, eyes fluttering closed as you take in his salty taste.

"Speak up," he grunts, “you were being so bratty a minute ago.”

"Ngh - no," you gargle around his girth, saliva filling your mouth and making it hard to breath, pouring out of the sides of your cheeks and coating his shaft.

"Look at you, can't even take all of it," he taunts, pushing his hips deeper so that the tip begins to push down your throat, making you gag, your mouth becoming wetter.

Your eyes are hardly staying open. With your brain being so mellow, all that you can see or feel or taste is Gojo’s cock as it pumps in and out of your throat, bulging through your neck.

“So gummy,” Gojo purrs, putting his hands on the edge of the washing machine behind you. “Throat fits me so perfect, baby, y’know that?”

You can’t respond but the moaning attempt you make around his cock pulls a grunt from him. You know he’s being incredibly loud and obvious, but you can hardly scold him. The most you can do is crack your palms on his thighs, leaving tiny hand-shaped prints on the smooth skin.

“Hngh - what was that for?” he scolds before murmuring, “do it again.”

You smack his legs again and keep your eyes closed. You’re salivating all over his length and it drips down your chin, which is being abused by his heavy sac in repeated claps.

“Quiet,” you moan around his cock, as he’s letting out the most pathetic, desperate moans while you drive your mouth down to the base.

“N-No,” he grumbles, lifting his shirt up, before taking it between his teeth. You’re met face to face his with his perfect abdomen, glistening in droplets of sweat. “You suck me up so good, princess.”

Your eyes roll in pleasure at the name, eyes watering, mouth no longer dry. You don’t care if he wants to wake up the neighborhood; you just want to hear the delicious, sultry noises.

But right when you feel his dick twitch against the sides of your cheeks, you force your mouth off and swallow down the pool of saliva in the back of your throat. Your lips are wet and puffy as you part them and stare up at him.

“Gah - baby, why?” he quarrels, gripping tightly on your head.

You answer by leaning back forward and kissing his tip, sticking out your tongue and flicking it over the head before backing up again.

His knees nearly buckle, his grip on your head tightens.

“P-please don’t,” he whimpers. “S-suck it.”

“Mm-mm,” you mouth defiantly, wrapping your lips over the tip and gently pressing your teeth down; should he try to shove it deeper, it would only hurt him.

“Ngh - ‘m too horny for this, baby,” he growls. “Was so close.”

“Too bad,” you shrug, voice muffled because of the way you’re swirling your tongue over his slick pink tip.

His head falls forward, white locks dangling over his face as he tries to fight through his unbearably high libido. Your high has started to wear off but you can tell it’s going to be a long night for Satoru.

“Alright princess, I-I’ll remember this,” he coos from above, trying to push his hips towards your face but ultimately hissing and stopping when your teeth clamp down on the meat. “Goddamnit baby, what’s gotten into you? P-Please jus’ le’me cum.”

“Maybe,” you hum, taking him out of your mouth and using your spit to stroke his cock. “How bad you want it?”

“S-so bad,” he begs. “I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” you question, running your thumb over his tip. “Hmm. You’re in charge of cooking dinner for a week. Deal?”

“Ah - fuck it, just please,” he whines, writhing under your touch, barely able to get his words out.

“Cum,” you say silkily, sticking your tongue to catch the salty, white ropes that waste absolutely no time shooting from his shaft.

He twitches under your grip until his high has ridden out, but you use his cum as lubricant to keep stroking his poor length.

“Okay, okay,” he whines. “I-I’m good now, agh.”

“You’re not good till I say so,” you gruff, until his hand comes under your chin harshly, and brings you to a forced standing position.

“I said I’m good, but if you think I’m not getting you back for that - you’re a stupid little thing, aren’t you?” He swipes his thumb over your cum-covered lips, and then licks it clean, before cracking you on the cheek. “Now, on your toes baby. And be quiet.”

A/N:

I’ve been trying to finish this for forever bro wtf is wrong with me

I’m fighting demons (writer’s block)

And also… I think I wanna write some Gojo fluff after #jjk271 because my baby deserves love and light good fucking bye.

all the love always!

~pennjammin

[miyuhpapayuh]

Dick appointment: Daye 🍀

"You like when I kiss this pretty,” his wet lips smack against her clit, making her shiver and reach out for him, “wet pussy, baby?”

“Yes, baby,” she whines, feeling herself get worked up all over again. He spreads her legs wide open.

His long tongue glides through her wet folds, swirling around her swelling bud as her eyes cross from the pleasure.

“Unhh,”

“Mmhm,” he groans into her, sending chills up her spine, “like this, huh baby?”

“Y-yes, fuuuck!”

Her hands thread into his hair, desperately holding on as her thighs begin shaking, his tongue now wagging at her sweet spot.

“I'm gonna cum,” she squeals, “don't stop, don't stop!”

Sliding two fingers into her wetness, digging with precision, he makes her cum twice.

“Fuck!”

“Mmmhm,” he moans against her again.

“B-baby, please,” her body jolts up from the couch, not getting far as her legs are still pinned by his free arm.

Laying his tongue flat, he slowly licks up her slit and back down while fingering her still, making her stare down at him, a deep frown on her face.

“Fffuckkkk,” she groans, thighs shaking madly.

“Tastes so good, I can't help myself,” he groans with his mouthful, making her throb and clench around his fingers.

Pulling his fingers away, they smack down on her clit, making her jerk up from the couch, not getting far as she's still pinned.

“Ah!”

“Put that ass up in the air, baby.”

Finally releasing her, he smirks at how fast she gets into position. Damn, baby had curves for days.

He didn't waste time grabbing a handful of her ass while lining himself up with her wet slit, carefully sliding into her.

He was long and thick, a woman's dream!

She felt like he'd personally taken her breath out of her chest and he began to grind into her, already touching a sweet spot.

“Unh!”

“Right there, huh?” He taunts, going a little faster.

“Fuck, yeah baby,” her eyes roll back as she throws her ass back in his lap, loving the groans leaving his lips.

“Mmhm, fuck me back,” he leans back, watching her take him to the hilt every time. Her sweet moans had him close already.

“Good girl,” he praises, softly grabbing the back of her neck, resuming his own rhythm behind her, pounding her out like she's been wanting.

“Fuck me, yesss, fuck m-me,”

“Just like this, huh? Deep in them guts?”

“Yesyesyesyesss..” she moans, holding onto the edge of the cushion for dear life as he thrusts into her from behind with a tight grip on her hip.

“Talk that shit, baby..” he mumbles, smacking her ass and watching it jiggle.

“Fuc-king me, s-so good!”

“Whachu gon do for me, baby?”

“I’m gonna cum!” her thighs quiver as she inches away from him for reprieve.

“Cum on this dick, baby,”

He’s right on her tail as his thrusts get a bit deeper, fucking her through her orgasm.

“Holy shit!”

“Like that, huh?” He teases, feeling her tighten up all over again.

“Yes, yes, yesss,” she whines, trying her best to throw it back, her eyes screwing shut at the way he's rutting himself into her.

“Oh my god!” she gasps, as they slip from the couch to the floor, with him never missing a beat.

Her eyes grow wide as he continues to stroke into her with his hand now around the front of her neck, his heavy grunts hitting her ear.

“Oh m— Lucky!” She whines, reaching up for the hand around her neck.

“You sure are.” He smugly mumbles back, nipping at her ear.

Her pussy squeezes around his thick dick as another orgasm floods through her.

Her nails dig into the carpet underneath them as her mouth falls open as his strokes never cease.

“Holy fuck!” She whines, feeling another orgasm coming straight for her.

“Wet ass pussy,” he mumbles in her ear, kissing the spot right underneath.

“I’m c-cummin’, again,” she gasps.

“Cum on this dick, baby,”

Her eyes roll back as it rushes through her, making her lean away from his strokes.

“Where you goin’?” His deep voice envelops her, making her feel fuzzy.

“You’re k-killing me,” she pouts like he can see her face, still taking him as best as she could.

“I'll kiss it better, later,” he promises before his hand finds its way into her coily puff, pulling her back on him.

Her bottom lip folds into her mouth at the feeling bursting through her for a fourth time, her muffled whines and whimpers competing with his loud grunts.

“Oh my goodness,” her body jerks forward, being quickly brought back by the hand in her hair.

“Uh! It feels so good!”

“C’mere.”

Grabbing a pillow from the couch, she lays her head on it as he places her hands behind her while her plump ass claps against his strong thighs. His rough strokes collide with her spot head on.

“Oh, babyyy!”

His free hand collides with her ass.

“Tell daddy thank you.”

“Unh! unh! thank you, daddy!”

“Say it again.”

“Thank you, daddy! Thank you, daddyyyy!”

Her legs widen as she arches up to get away from the pleasure. It was beginning to feel too good.

“Where you goin’?”

“It’s t-too much!”

Her breath gets caught in her chest as curt, upward thrusts quickly bring her to her peak, before she can even announce it.

Her teeth latch onto the pillow as her whines take over, the rug beginning to rub against her knees as he continues turning her inside out.

Her muffled cries are music to his ears, as he watches her swollen lips swallow his girth.

“Gonna be a good girl and gimme one more? Just one more..” he moans, leaning down to kiss her back, licking a stripe up the middle.

She shivers, nodding feverishly. Anything that kept him rocking into her like this.

“Answer me, baby,” he smacks her ass, releasing her hands and grabbing her neck, pulling her back into his chest.

“Gonna be good,” she agrees, her jaw dropping as he thrusts upwards, her hands frantically grabbing at the pillow and the hand at her neck.

“Good girl,” he repeats, breathing heavy in her ear, making matters so much worse.

“Oh shit,”

“Mmh, so close baby,” he rasps, squeezing her neck.

“I– I'm gonna squirt,” she gasps, her vision going white at the overwhelming sensation coursing through her veins.

“Gimme that shit, baby..” he coos, admiring the way her body stills as she sprays all over his lap, triggering his own heavy release.

“Got dammittt,” he growls, hips stuttering into her as he empties everything he's got inside her wet and warm.

[brotherwtf]

As promised, here’s the photo prompt: Gale in a suit on a bed ✨💀 I loved all your ideas in the chat but here be free free reign for you to take and run as you please!

THIS THIS YES YES

anyways, clegan should fuck with clothes on and they're gonna, I'm gonna make them

----

Gale and John didn't have to get dressed up often, and even when they did they would have to wear their dress greens, but there were days where they would have to put on a full suit and tie for the evening.

This was one of those nights, a gala of some sort honoring the veterans that fought in the war, so Gale and John rented tuxedos for the night. Nice, three pieces that hugged their bodies even better than their uniforms. It was a wonder John kept his hands off of Gale for as long as he did.

So when Gale throws himself on the bed, making an obnoxious noise of exhaustion, John finally allows himself to touch.

It doesn't help that Gales also running his hands up and down his body, wrapping a hand around his neck and groaning about how tired he is, needs help taking his clothes off. Which John, of course, jumps on the opportunity.

"Come on, John. Come lie down with me I'm exhausted," Gale groans, and huffs when John dips the bed with his knees.

He brackets Gale's hips with his knees, bending down and placing kisses and bites on the sliver of Gale's neck not covered by the collar of his shirt. Gale huffs, running his hands down John's side and bunching in the material around his hips. He pulls him up until he's breathing over John's lips, making breathy sounds as John runs his hands up to Gale's neck.

"Could barely keep my hands off of you, doll. Fuck, just look at you," John says, pressing Gale's face until it tilts back towards the mirror on their vanity.

It's a delicious sight, both of them fully clothed, Gale clutching at John's clothes desperately while John holds him down, hair already slightly dishevelled from Gale's hands. Gale moans at the sight and looks back up at John, surging forward to connect their lips.

Gale's kissing like he's desperate, immediately fucks his tongue between John's lips and making breathy sounds. John slides his hands down Gale's chest and flips the buttons to his jacket open, pulling Gale's shirt until it's untucked and he can creep his hand underneath to touch the burning hot skin. Gale keens high into John's mouth at the touch, grinding his hips up into John's.

"What do you want darling? Come on, ask for it," John says, groaning when Gale grinds against his hips.

Gale turns his head, hands finding Johns hair as he groans gently.

"Want it just like this, please, touch me John," Gale pleads.

He doesn't seem to know where to put his hands, alternating between shoving them in John's hair and running them down his arms. John eventually takes them and pins them on either side of his head, devouring his lips again.

He shifts his hips until their hips are aligned and he grinds their cocks together, groaning at the added sensation of the clothing on them. It makes Gale moan breathily into his mouth, grinding his hips up off the bed back against John's hips.

"Like this, darling?" John whispers, tucking his face into Gale's neck to press more kisses to his pulse point.

Gale moans high in his throat, nodding and clutching onto John's suit jacket, grinding his hips harder into John's.

They've never done it like this before, John likes to take his time undressing Gale and see him fall apart under his hands, likes to leave marks all over his body so Gale can press his finger into them and be reminded who made them.

But even like this, with only a sliver of Gale's neck visible, John can feel himself barreling towards and orgasm, just from their hips grinding together.

John comes with a groan into Gale's neck, lacing their fingers together as he huffs. Gale doesn't follow too far behind, keening high in his throat, nudging his nose against John's cheek.

"We ruined our suits," Gale mutters, and John huffs out a laugh.

[impala-dreamer]

Crazy On You

A Tale from The MCU

~ On a trip up state, things get a little spicy when the rumble of Bucky's engine gets you going...~

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

2,158 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Exhibitionism (Sex in a Public Place), Oral, Fingering, Sexy Stuff. 

A/N: For @feelmyroarrrr... I pictured Bucky from FATWS, but you can put this anywhere you'd like ;) - Also, I published this in Feb 2024, before we got Bucky in the Thunderbolts trailer, so I thought it was time to bring it over here finally lol

Wind is whipping around you with hurricane force, stinging as it hits your exposed cheeks. It prickles your skin and sweeps the hair off of your neck. It’s cold and invasive, but it feels good as the summer sun beats down upon your shoulders. The wind and heat fight for dominance and your body is the battleground. 

A bump in the road jerks your spine and you lean forward, arms tightening around Bucky’s waist. He’s steering the motorcycle with expert precision, but he’s no match for the pothole-marred blacktop of New York State. Another dip makes you gasp and he cocks his head back a bit, yelling over the wind. 

“You OK back there?” 

You give him a squeeze and press your chin to his shoulder. The metal beneath his leather jacket gives you pause, but it doesn’t bother you- it’s just another reminder of how remarkable he is. 

“I’m great!” you holler back. “But this road sucks!” 

He smiles into the wind and leans slightly to the left, following the curve of the road. The Sawmill River Parkway is treacherous and exciting. 

“Well, hold on, Doll,” he warns. “It only gets worse!”

The road winds around and back again, dodging towns and skirting the edge of the Hudson River as it leads them out of the city. Skyscrapers and brownstones give way to long stretches of trees and the bright green blurs in your peripheral. 

As you drive, arms clasped around his firm body, your thoughts begin to drift. The engine is roaring and the thin seat vibrates between your legs, setting off an array of images in your mind. You clench your thighs as the Bucky revs the motor, hold your breath as you feel the strong muscles in his back tense against your chest. Slowly, you unclutch your right hand and snake it up to lay flat against his heart. His heart is pounding; his body firm and warm. You close your eyes and let your fingers glide downwards, coveting the dips of his abs. Your mouth waters as you envision running your tongue over every bump. 

The road swerves and you hang on; centrifugal force and Bucky’s strong body keeping you in place while the bike leans to the right. Your nails dig into the soft gray fabric of his tee and he shivers. You can feel it as strongly as you can feel the vibrations through your jeans. 

He picks up speed, easily overtaking the white Mazda to your left. You let out a laugh and turn to watch the darkened windshield fade into the background. There’s nothing that can catch you now. No government agency giving chase in an SUV behind you; no preternatural force pinning for your blood beyond the cliff to your right. There’s nothing but the sun and the wind and the soaking arousal between your legs. 

You pass another car and your body starts to shake. Every rev, every bump, every tiny oscillation of the engine makes your pussy throb. The bike seems connected to you- it turns, you ease to the side with it. It screams, your body aches. It creeps over the jagged road top, your blood zings.

“Fuck!”

Bucky tenses at your shout, hands tightening on the handlebars. He holds steady.

“What's going on?” His voice is drenched in concern, evident even over the howl of the traffic.

“Nothing.”

You brush him off but he doesn't believe you. Something lies hidden in your voice and the way your fingers keep curling against his stomach tells him there's trouble. 

He growls your name through a clenched jaw. “Y/N…”

As a shudder of pleasure whips down your body, you lean into his back and press your lips to his ear.

“I'm good! But we should pull over soon…”

Before he can solicit more information, you drag a hand down his stomach and cup his jeans.

The bike swings a bit to the right.

Bucky clears his throat, gives his head a little shake to clear his mind.

“Hang on!”

A sign ahead tells of a scenic overlook two miles down the road, but you’re not sure you can make it. The rumbling has taken over any bit of nervousness from racing down the parkway on the back of a bike, and all you want to do is get his hands on you. 

The bike picks up speed and passes a black Camry. 

The trees have grown more dense so far from The Bronx and the stench of a hot summer day has long ago died away. 

Your desire is so intense that it’s taking all your strength to hold on, to not nibble at his ear or reach inside his tight jeans. He needs to concentrate even if you can’t. He needs to focus on the road even if your focus is on the heartbeat pulsing in your cunt. He needs to stay sharp even if your eyes are blurry and the scenery is sliding by like thinned paint dripping down a canvas. 

Finally, he signals and takes the exit, following a giant blue sign towards the rest area. 

Black top gives way to gravel; the noisy traffic fades away. Bucky pulls into a spot cliffside and cuts the engine. There’s a momentary shock as your ears try to readjust to the quiet, and then you hear his gruff voice and all is well. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, dropping the kickstand and moving to get up. “You OK?” 

Teeth stuck in your bottom lip, you watch him dismount, dragging your gaze down over his solid frame. His shirt is terribly tight; the leather jacket formed spectacularly around his muscular arms and shoulders. The jeans are soft and bite into him in all the ways you crave to.

“Oh, I’m good…”

There’s a sparkle in your eyes that makes him smirk. “Really? Ya seem a little… worked up.” 

Your mouth waters for him and you squirm over the leather seat, ready to attack. “Very.” 

Bucky grins and presses his tongue between his front teeth. You feel the urge to taste it and carefully climb off of the ride. 

“Very, huh?” He takes a breath and looks around. The outlook is clear; prying eyes are nowhere around. “You couldn’t have waited till we got upstate? We have a room, ya know.” 

All thoughts besides getting your lips on him are gone and your vision narrows in on your target. You lunge forward and pray he’ll keep his balance and not send you both tumbling into the river. 

His footing is sure. His arms are strong and his kiss is unforgiving. 

“Fuck, I need you so bad,” you moan, sunshine hitting your face as his tongue sweeps over your pulse. His teeth scrape the delicate skin of your throat and you claw at his shoulder. “Need you now!”

A hard shove to his chest knocks him back half a step and you drop to your knees in the dusty gravel. Bucky sucks in a deep breath and turns his back to the parkway. 

“You sure about this?” he asks, shooting a glance over his shoulder. Cars speed past in the distance, no one the wiser. 

You tugged at his belt. “So sure…”

One leather end flaps to the left. 

The buckle dangles over his thick thigh.

You fumble with the zipper and there's a hiss from above as Bucky fears for his manhood. Quickly, he closes his hand over yours and takes over, saving himself as you stare, drooling and impatient.

“You’re certainly all worked up, Doll,” he teases, licking his lip as you stare up in utter submission, silently begging for his cock. 

“Aren’t you? That ride… the engine… the-” 

A gasp cuts you off when his dick appears. Bucky pulls it free of his briefs and the sun strikes his velvety skin. He pushes his hips forward slightly and your lips open automatically. Without further invitation, you lean forward and land a wet kiss over the tip. Bucky sucks in a breath and you smile, finally getting what you’ve been dying for. 

You flick your tongue over his slit and then drag it slowly down, wetting his quickly growing shaft. 

“Fuck, Y/N/N… feels so good.” 

You look up with bright eyes and bob your partially opened mouth over his swelling head. Bucky’s upper lip quivers and he sneers with escalating desire. He dips his chin and smiles softly. A delicate finger sweeps over your forehead and curls around your ear. He urges you forward and you comply, sliding your lips down his cock. You can feel him harden on your tongue, taste the salty tang of him, smell his summer musk. It drives you wild and you swallow around him, wanting to savor every drop. 

“Damn it…” Bucky rolls his hips and your eyes flutter back. “You’re a needy little cocksucker, aren’t you?” 

Your mumbled response makes him moan and you pull back with a wet pop. 

He shakes his head teasingly and lays his metal hand on the nape of your neck. “Don’t stop.” 

The cold metal makes you shiver as he guides you back down. His touch is easy but you can feel the pent up force. He holds back with you, gentle but boiling with power. There’s never any fear when you’re with him, never a reason to think, even when he’s grabbing at your tits or fucking you on the vibranium, that he’ll do you any harm. Maybe a bruise or two, but it’s never something you don’t ask for. 

He sets the pace, jerking his hips and pushing at your head in rhythmic succession. Drool spills down your chin, puddling on the gravel beneath your knees. The sun beats down, hot and wonderful. Traffic flows in the distance, clouds drift overhead. 

Bucky fists your hair and snaps his hips, burying his cock down your throat. You gag and claw at his muscular thighs as his seed floods your mouth. He groans loudly as he comes and it echoes off the cliff like a roar in the jungle.

Before you can swallow it all, he’s got you on your feet, dragging you to standing and crushing you against his chest. He paws at your tits and locks his metal arm behind your back, holding you steady. 

“Bucky…” 

He kisses away your words, driving his tongue deep between your lips. He can taste himself there and it stirs his desire again. You can feel him push against your belly and your pussy leaks for him. 

“Please…”

Again, he shoves his tongue into your mouth, silencing your cries while snaking his free hand into your jeans. He pops the button without hesitation and eases his way into your panties. You’re already soaked and he hums at the feeling as your wet heat spreads over his fingers. 

His cold fingers splay open across your back and your body goes weak, cradled by his touch, safe from falling. 

He touches you with expert precision, jabbing two fingers deep into your cunt while his thumb rubs circles over your clit. You hold your breath, afraid to scream with pleasure and alert any passersby. Bucky doesn’t seem to care if you’re found out, and does his best to pull moan after moan from your swollen lips. 

“That’s it,” he whispers, staring down into your glazed eyes. “Gonna come for me like a good girl, yeah?” 

You manage a nod as he crooks his finger against your g spot. 

“Out here in the open where anyone could see.” 

“Yes…” 

Your voice is as shaky as your legs and the pressure of his hand increases. Pleasure swells inside and he can feel your body pulsing. 

“There you go, Doll.” He rubs faster, fucks a little harder. “Let go and come for me.” 

It hits like a crack of lightning and Bucky holds you steady, fucking you through the crest of your orgasm and sucking down your cry. He licks at your lips, caresses your aching cunt, hums in amazed approval. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, slowly removing his hand from your jeans. 

You grab his hand, still shuddering from the bliss, and tug his fingers to your mouth. He bites his lip, watching with darkening blue eyes as you lick him clean. 

“Goddammit, we gotta get to that hotel soon.”

You laugh and let his hand fall free. “Only a little longer, right?” You blink innocently and brush a finger over his new erection. 

He shivers and pops the tip of his tongue between his teeth, counting the miles till he can get you in bed. 

“If we rush, I can get us there in thirty minutes,” he offers.

Reaching up, you cup your hand around the back of his neck and pull him down for a final kiss. He moans and holds you tighter, wanting more, wanting to rip you apart and have his way. 

You push back after a long moment and wink. 

“Better make it twenty…”

[writingoddess1125]

Pebbling

Buggy x GN Reader

Fluff Headcanon + Small Story

Pebbling (Def) -  collecting and sharing little things with someone you are interested in so that you can build a bond.

Masterlist <<

Kofi<<

• You’ve been a part of Buggy’s crew for a while now, and while life on the ship is always chaotic, there’s a certain rhythm to the madness.

• Buggy’s loud and eccentric as ever, constantly yelling at his crew, plotting his next big scheme, or performing one of his exaggerated, over-the-top shows.

•He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to be subtle—or thoughtful, really—but that’s exactly what makes the little surprises so confusing at first.

• It started out small of course-

• The first time it happens, you find a small trinket tucked away in your cabin—a shiny coin, weathered with age but clearly valuable.

• You’re puzzled, wondering where it came from. No one in Buggy’s crew seems like the type to leave anything behind unless it’s by accident, but you chalk it up to just that: an accident.

• Then another object appears some time later—this time a small, brightly colored feather.

• It’s wedged into the folds of your coat, a splash of color so out of place that you can’t help but notice it. Again, you can’t figure out where it came from, but it’s oddly nice. It makes you smile for some reason.

• Then it happens again. And again. Small things—items that seem random at first—start showing up in your space.

• A polished stone, very pretty shell, even some candy from your village of birth you thought you'd never see again!

• Each one placed somewhere you’re bound to find it: in your coat pocket, on your bunk, even tucked away in your boots once.

• At first, you think it’s just coincidence, or maybe the crew playing some kind of prank.

• But the things you find are too specific, too you.

• They’re not the usual junk that gets tossed around on the ship. These are things that hold a certain charm, things you genuinely like.

• Slowly, a pattern starts to form, though you can’t quite pin down who’s behind it.

• That was till one gift made you figure out who it was- A well loved red beanie, It would be perfect for the upcoming sailing adventure since it was oddly cold.

• Looking into the hat you see it- A long strand of blue hair that seemed to have been perfectly left behind in the fold.

• Blue Hair-

• As you began to piece together this was from Buggy you couldn't help but smile to yourself as you held the hat close.

• He would never acknowledge anything of course- You assumed his ego being too grand to do so. However your heart fluttered at the idea your Captain was going out of his way to leave these for you.

• You decide to watch how he interacts after this, just to confirm your hypothesis.

• Wearing the beanie you sit on the desk were Buggy is screaming at the crew and stomping his foot angrily at something random.

• Pulling some of the candy he left you from your coat pocket you began to eat it while chatting one of your peers, perfectly angled for the Cap to see you.

• Just to catch Buggy glancing at you and seemingly smirking to himself- His mood 'Magically' Improving at a drop of a dime.

• Bingo!

- Later that evening after dinner, You'd snuck into the Captain's Quarters looking around a bit nervously as you looked for a good spot to set the item you'd made for him, It had been a small hotdog statue that you'd made yourself with some clay- Easy to put on a desk or keep in a pocket since Buggy seemed a bit fidgety.

"Now where to put it-"

You grumble as you frantically looked around for a good spot for the gift, not wanting it to get lost in the chaos that was his quarters. He made it seem so easy to be able to hide these things in places he knew you'd find them- But this was hard!

His desk was a fucking mess! Clothes on the floor and it was impossible to know were he actually looked.

Shit, Shit, Shit!

Right as you think you found a good spot on top of some makeup tins the door to his office slams open- Were the Devil himself steps in looking just as surprised as you felt.

Deer In Headlights-

You two stare at each other for what felt like forever as he looks ready to question you for being in his personal space but your frazzled mind seemed to beat him.

"I MADE YOU A HOT DOG!" You should holding the hot dog in the palm of your hand and wanting the ground to swallow you whole-

...

A wide smile slowly started to stretch across Buggy's face as he closed in the space between the two of you and greedily took the hot dog trinket from your hands. His eyes seemed to sparkle.

"You Made This?" You nod hesitantly, a bit frazzled still before shyly smiling.

"I um, noticed all the stuff too. From You" It was now your turn to catch him off guard, He started to blush as you get flushed as well.

"Ive liked all of them" You say softly, watching a nervous smile grace his lips.

"Do- You wanna drink on desk? So I can ask how you made this?" Buggy asked, coughing a bit to himself to clearly ease his nerves and make himself seem cooler. You giggle at this and nod.

"Id like that a lot"

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Okay, this is the second part of this, because I had so much fun writting this dynamic. Outlaw Dewdrop x Sheriff Swiss except he's also a retired legendary outlaw himself. Might not make sense without the first part.

Dew will admit it, he's a bit of an adrenaline junkie. In his line of...work...it makes sense. Close calls and near death experiences leave him thrumming with energy, giddy and exalted. But his favorite thing, oh, it's the thrill of the chase. Wether he's hunter or hunted, it never fails to get him going.

Knowing the Multi-Faced Thief is after him sure feeds into that particular addiction of his. Helps that the man is easy on the eye.

The memory of the Thief - Swiss, he learned - all up in Dew's space, leaning against the barrel of the gun, discarting the threat like one would bat flies away, his sparkling grin too bright in the low light, followed Dew even after he put miles between them.

More than a few nights, that memory, as well as many others of Swiss' voice, his amused chuckle, his careless stance, drove him to buck into his fist, spilling all over his knuckles while clutching the necklace - Swiss' - in his free hand.

And, look, Dew is smart, he trusts his guts, he's quick to get back on his feet no matter what the situation is, usually comes up on top of any face off with any other criminal, but he knows, deep down, that he's up against one of the most remarkable individual he's ever met. The Multi-Faced Thief's reputation is one for the archives, as well as his track record.

It sparks a feral kind of delight in Dew.

To be this man's sole focus - and it might be presomptuous of him, but Dew believes he is -, to occupy his thoughts...what a thrill.

Swiss finally catches up to him just as the sun is kissing the horizon, setting alight the small, inconspicuous town Dew snuck in, taking care of hidding his face.

It's the sudden agitation of his mare that alerts Dew from where he was starting to arrange the straw in a somewhat acceptable mattress for him to spend the night on - renting a room, with his infamous scar giving him away, is not an option.

By the time he's precipitately turned around, it's too late. Swiss is on him in an instant, a shadow pouncing with the efficency of Death itself. One hand one Dew's belt, the other on his shoulder, and he's thrown out the stall, rolling in the dust.

Accepting the movement is the only way not to get hurt ; Dew let himself fall, uses the momentum to immediately push up on his feet again. He doesn't get to draw his gun, though, before a strong hand wraps around both his wrists - both ? Hot. - and he's bullied against the back wall of the stable, arms pinned above his head, the cold steel of a blade kissing his throat.

The grinning face that haunted Dew's dreams for weeks is hovering above his, Swiss' eyes glinting victoriously as his chest heaves up and down.

"Hi, Dewy."

Adrenaline, sweet sweet adrenaline, has Dew's ears ringing, but it can only do so much in this position. A bit of wiggling only gets him a warningly stronger press of knife against his bobbing adam apple, so Dew resolves to snark back.

"Didn't know we were on nickname basis."

Swiss' smile widens. The hand holding Dew's wrists shifts, until he can run a thumb over the man's delicate bones there. Dew's breathing hitches the slightest bit. Swiss is warm, pleasantly so, he notes absent-mindedly. The rapidly fading light shines on multiple gold jewlery at his ears, highlights the thin sheen of sweat on the man's skin.

"I think we are," Swiss argues, voice low, close to a purr, "you know quite a lot about me, don't you ? Really studied my case, mmh ? As for me..."

Swiss tilts his head, the brim of his hat casting a deep shadow over his face, though it does nothing to hide the "cat that got the cream" expression on it.

"After following you for this long, I feel like i know you better now. You're a clever one, aren't you Dewy. Slippery little fuck."

It sounds almost fond.

Dew gives a half shrug, careful not to disrupt the blade where it sits snug against his skin.

"Didn't build my reputation on lies."

He gives it a shot then, if only for the sake of his pride, twisting his leg to try and trip Swiss. The man is too quick though, pins the offending leg with his knee, tutting.

"Now, now. Behave, will you ? I'd hate to have to damage that pretty face of yours."

"I doubt that," Dew huffs. It's a bit of a shot in the dark, but something is telling him he's right, so he pushes on. "You'd love to stake your claim, wouldn't you. Leave me with a premanent reminder of our...encounter."

Oh, the sweet way Swiss groans, throwing his head back. Looks like Dew hit the nail right on the head. Then those burning eyes are back on him and Dew is hit by the overwhelming need to keep them that way.

Swiss pushes even closer, until their chests are brushing with each breath they take. Something like hunger basks his features in feral need.

"Maybe I'll leave you with something sweet, after, but first, we have business to settle, don't we Dewy ?"

In answer Dew grins, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah, business."

He dares to lean a bit more into the knife, chasing the high of being so close to the blade, so close to Swiss, both dangerous in equal measure. The buckle of Dew's belt clinks against Swiss'.

The evening air is heavy, a powder keg only needing the slightest hint of a spark to explode.

Around Dew's wrists, Swiss' hand flex. He twists his knife until Dew has to tilt his chin up, throat even more exposed. Swiss' eyes stray on the smooth skin bared by the movement.

"My necklace, Dewy."

Oh isn't Dew going to have fun with that.

"Eager to stick your hands under my shirt, Swiss ?"

"Sure am."

In a swift motion, Swiss slices Dew's poor shirt open, slipping the knife back in his belt once it's done. The rush of air against his now bare chest has Dew involuntarily arching.

"I quite liked that one," he protests half heartedly, even as a traitorous shudder wracks through him. Swiss hums, wrapping his hand around the necklace. Now would be a good time to try something to break free, but if he's being honest, Dew's mind is far away from escape plans.

"So you did keep it...was worried you'd just sell it off somewhere."

Dew grins. Swiss' eyes flick up, back to him. Up close, he's even more beautiful. The scruff on his cheek must feel wonderfully scratchy, the two moles under his left eye too charming for such small details, the few patches of grey at his temple- far too attractive, that.

"Wanted you to keep looking for me," Dew admits, a bit breathless.

He sways and nearly falls head first into Swiss's chest when the man let go of his leg, tugging him flush againts him by the necklace, still holding his arms up.

"Oh, Dew. Wanna know a secret ?"

Without waiting for an answer, Swiss tilts his head, breathing almost directly in Dew's mouth.

"I would've kept chasing you, with or without the necklace."

That's what does it for Dew, self-control snapping. Before he's even realized what he's doing, his mouth is on Swiss'. For a split second, apprehension wraps around his spine, but then Swiss is half slamming him back against the wall, lips working against Dew's with equal frantic energy.

And oh does Swiss know what he's doing. Cupping his face with his free hand, angling it so that he can deepen the kiss, nipping at Dew's lip before swiping his tongue over it to dissipate the sting.

They're panting by the time they pull away. Slowly, Swiss releases Dew's wrists. He let his arms fall to his side, reaching for his weapon not even crossing his mind. Instead, his hands find Swiss' waist. The man grins, dark and hungry, taking his hat off with a flourish to set it on Dew's head.

There is not much sleep involved that night.

[fatkish]

Demon Child Pt. 11

You and Genya had been traveling through the maze that was the infinity castle. You and Genya had been destroying any demons you came across but for some reason there seemed to be less and less demons. As Genya slowed to a walk, you sensed a familiar presence. You knew this presence, it was Kokushibo, and he was close. You jumped down from Genya’s shoulders and grabbed his hand as you quickly and quietly led him towards Kokushibo. As you got closer you started to hear voices talking.

When you looked around the partition, your eyes widened as you saw Kokushibo standing in front of Muichiro who was pinned to a column with his own sword. Muichiro’s sword was going through one of his shoulders and he was missing his left hand. You looked around and spotted his hand. You looked at Genya and put a finger over your lips. You then darted out and grabbed the disembodied hand and hid behind another column. Fearing that you would be spotted, Genya went to shoot Kokushibo but he appeared behind him.

With Kokushibo gone, you ran over to help Muichiro. You held his severed hand to his wrist and used your healing spit to reattach it. After testing his hand out, Muichiro grabbed his sword and pulled it out. You then healed his shoulder and ran back to where Genya was with Muichiro. When you got there, you saw that Genya had been cut to pieces. Your eyes welled with tears as you began to piece him back together. You saw over your shoulder that Sanemi was fighting Kokushibo. You began working faster to help Genya. After you placed the final part of Genya together, your tears began to mend his body and fix him.

You and Muichiro helped Genya up and you three turned to help Sanemi. As Sanemi continued to fight Kokushibo, Kokushibo managed to slash Sanemi’s abdomen. As you, Genya and Muichiro watched, you three began to concoct a plan to help Sanemi. As the fighting between Kokushibo and Sanemi continued, they kicked up a dust cloud. As the dust settled, a figure could be seen. Once the dust cloud disappeared, Gyomei could be seen, wielding his morning star and hatchet, ready to fight. Gyomei walked over to Sanemi, “Shinazugawa, fix yourself right now, I will take him on while you do that” Gyomei said.

Gyomei walked forward towards Kokushibo, swinging his morning star in a circle. As he launched the star, Kokushibo dodged it. As Kokushibo went to attack, he noticed the hatchet heading straight for him. Stepping on the chain, Gyomei managed to swing his weapon to wrap the chain around Kokushibo’s neck. Unable to slash the chains, Kokushibo ducked to avoid the chain. Gyomei continued to swing his ax and ball around, Kokushibo tried to dash straight for Gyomei, but Gyomei leapt into the air and flipped over Kokushibo. Gyomei managed to wrap his chain around Kokushibo’s sword to try and break it.

As Kokushibo’s sword regenerated, he spoke to Gyomei. “Everything that breaks…will regenerate right away… your attacks…are useless… pitiful human” he told Gyomei. As Gyomei stood across from Kokushibo, holding both his weapons in each hand, he confessed. “I wanted to save this for when I faced Muzan…but if I fail here, I’ll end up back where I started. I’ve got nothing to lose in using it here” Gyomei said as his demon slayer mark appeared on his wrist. You looked on in sadness as you ran over to Sanemi and healed his wounds.

As you healed Sanemi’s wounds, Kokushibo and Gyomei began to converse. Kokushibo commented that since Gyomei was past the age of 25, he may very well die this night. He went on to say that Gyomei has mastered his body and Techniques to such a degree and they will vanish from the world once he dies. Kokushibo asked Gyomei if he thought that was tragic. Gyomei told Kokushibo that he doesn’t find it tragic. Gyomei explained that even without the mark, being a demon slayer means that there is never a promise of tomorrow. Gyomei goes on to question the point in trying to preserve his life force this late in the game. He then comments that no one with half assed resolve like that becomes a pillar.

Kokushibo reiterated that he wasn’t taking about something as trivial as one’s life force. Becoming a demon means that one can preserve their body and techniques. To turn down that offer is something Kokushibo can’t comprehend. Gyomei tells Kokushibo that of course he can’t comprehend it. The Hashira were born as humans and they are proud to die as humans. Gyomei then comments on how Kokushibo lied about something. When Kokushibo asks what he lied about, Gyomei tells him that there was an exception, someone who lived past 25 who had a demon slayer mark.

Kokushibo stood still, slightly shaking in rage at the thought of his brother. He then quickly shot forward in an attempt to behead Gyomei, but Gyomei blocked it. You had finished up healing Sanemi and he went back to the fight. Gyomei and Sanemi together began to fight against Kokushibo. As they fought, you hid behind a partition and began to mediate. You told Genya to watch your back and keep you safe. You then relaxed and began to fall unconscious.

When you woke up, you were back in that dark void but this time there were giant statues of everyone. You wandered around until you saw Kokushibo’s statue. You then jumped up and began to soar until you landed on the statue’s face. You placed your hand on the statue’s cheek, “Kokushibo, please listen. I don’t want to have to fight you!” You said. You tried to get through but Kokushibo’s mental barrier was too thick. You tried again though. You placed your hand on Kokushibo’s statue’s forehead. “Michikatsu! Please listen! Yoriichi loved you. All he wanted was to be a swordsman like his beloved twin. You inspired him, he loves you, here, I’ll show you”

You began to release the memory of the love Yoriichi felt for his twin through your aura. Outside the mindscape, Muichiro had his sword stabbed through Kokushibo’s abdomen. As Kokushibo was about to grow swords all over his body, he froze. His eyes filled with tears as he felt the the love Yoriichi had for him. As he was frozen and distracted, Sanemi took this chance to behead Kokushibo. As his body began to crumble to ash, his statue in the Mindscape began to shatter as well. As the statue crumbled, you stayed and continued to bathe the statue in an aura of love.

When you come out of it, you walk over to Kokushibo’s remaining things. You look down sadly at them before shedding a tear for whatever reason. As the others get patched up, you all continue on your way towards Muzan’s location. While you all are running there Genya asks you a question. “Y/n’ what was it that you were doing? It looked like you were meditating.” Sanemi, Muichiro and Gyomei’s ears perk up at the conversation. “I was in the mindscape. There, I can use my emotional manipulation to manipulate a target’s mind.” You explained as Gyomei carried you.

“It that why Upper One was crying? Can you do that to Muzan?” Sanemi asked. You nodded. “I could, but I would need powerful emotions to use against him. I used Kukoshibo’s brother’s emotions against him. It won’t work against Muzan.” You explained. “Y/n, I’m sorry to tell you this, but if it gives you strong enough emotions, Master Kagaya, miss Amane, their two daughters, Tamayo and Shinobu, have all died” Gyomei informed. You froze as did everyone else when the castle began to shake. The shock of the news was enough to keep your mind occupied when the castle collapsed and everyone was brought to the surface.

When you open your eyes, you’re alone. You push the rubble and debris off of you and you slowly began to walk forward. You weren’t even aware of your surroundings, you just walked. You focused on sensing for Kagaya, Amane, their children, Tamayo, Shinobu. You tried to feel for them but you found nothing. Memories of each of them began to flood your mind. Cuddling with Kagaya and Amane, all the games the Ubuyashiki kids played and taught you. The foods they introduced to you. Tamayo’s kind smile. The stories she’d read to you when she had the time. All the times Shinobu hung out with you and taught you things.

You didn’t realize the tears that were starting to fall from your eyes. You didn’t realize that the sounds of battle were growing closer. As the memories of the people you loved kept flashing through your mind, you didn’t realize that you stumbled right into the battle against Muzan. But he did. You were completely disassociating with reality as you faced the facts that these people were gone forever. The man who you saw as a father, and the woman who you saw as a mother, the people you thought of as family, they were gone.

Taking Notice of you, the battle stopped. Both sides not wanting to risk injuring you. You just stood there numbly, looking down. “Well well, if it isn’t my little niece/nephew, why don’t you sit back and let me handle this alright?” Muzan spoke in a sweet voice. You paused and looked up, you slowly turned to look at Muzan. Seeing him, the reason why your loved ones are gone, seeing him smiling at you. You couldn’t take it anymore, and the dam broke. You screamed as tears flowed from your eyes, and suddenly the entire battlefield was engulfed in a blue aura. Everyone began to cry in some way. Some more than others, but Muzan fell to his knees sobbing.

Despite how hard he tried, Muzan was unable to fight the effects of your blood demon art. You see, his sister had a special blood demon art, one that allowed her to manipulate the emotions of demons. The closer the demon was to her, the more powerful the effect she had on them. You inherited her blood demon art. Seeing as you are half human, your blood demon art works on humans too. The Hashira saw that this was their chance to take out Muzan. With only 30 minutes until sunrise, the Hashira begin their attack on Muzan.

While that happens, Muzan is brought to a place he recognizes. (Picture at the start) Looking around, Muzan Recognizes this place as his little sister’s mindscape. This is the realm of the subconscious, and his niece’s subconscious is the exact same as his sister’s. Still in tears, Muzan feels a familiar presence. One that he felt vanish. He felt the familiar presence of his sister. Y/n stand across from Muzan, with tears in their eyes. Muzan is still on his hands and knees but looks up at you. With tears still in your eyes, you ask Muzan “why are you doing this? Why are you making people suffer?”

“It’s not something that you could understand. This world is infested with disgusting imperfections and I seek to rid the world of those imperfections.” Muzan said. “Tell me Uncle, if you finally achieve your goal, will you be happy? Will perfection bring you happiness?” You ask. “Of course it will!” Muzan shouts. You frown. You look him in the eyes, with a look on your face. It was the exact same face that his sister looked at him with before she left him, which brought back memories of Minako.

Before Minako left for good, she and Muzan had an argument. She told him that she felt horrible about taking lives and wanted to put a stop to demons hurting innocent people. She told him that demons don’t have to make their victims suffer. That the right thing to do is to deliver their victims a swift and painless death. He told her she was being silly and wrote her off. She told him he was being cruel and he told her she was being childish. She left in tears and that was his last memory of her.

You walk over to your Uncle and gently place your hand on his cheek, “I know that you’re not going to change. I know you think the world is imperfect but those imperfections are what makes life perfect. If everyone was perfect at everything then what would be the point in living. Life is about growing and learning and experiencing things. If you get rid of everything you deem as imperfect, you risk getting rid of what makes you happy.” You removed your hand from his cheek. “The sun will be rising soon. And I won’t let you leave.” You said. And then you both were back in the real world.

You activated your blood demon art and created a bubble surrounding the battlefield. The bubble was filled with your healing aura, it healed the Hashira while sharp winds cut and sliced at Muzan. The sun began to peel over the Horizon and you solidified the bubble, making it impossible to leave the bubble. As Muzan began to burn up in the sun’s light, everyone watched until there was nothing left of him.

After the battle, you ran over to Gyomei as he collapsed. “Gyomei, I can fix you, I can negate the effects of the mark, but you can never use stone breathing or anything other than basic breathing techniques. If you do, the mark will come back and I won’t be able to do anything about it again. Will you let me save you?” You asked. Gyomei smiled at you and rubbed your head. “If that’s what you want, then go ahead and do it. You smiled as you closed your eyes and began to seal the mark, removing its effects on Gyomei. After you sealed the mark, you grew weary and ended up fainting.

Tag list: @shortneko @tomiokasecretlover @jspidey5 @nousija

[kurishiri]

15 . . . alfons main story

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: a bit of non-consensual touching.

Kate: ——mn...

When I opened my eyes, the scene before me drowned in darkness.

Alfons: Ah... Miss Kate, I see you’re awake?

Alfons was sitting on the bed, looking my way.

There seemed to be something in his hand that reflected a ray of light, that being a whisky glass.

Kate: ...Yes... good morning...

Alfons: Hehe, it’s a tad early for that, I’d say.

The lethargy that lingered in the air and the eyes that bore sensuality gave way to embarrassment, causing my eyes to wander about.

When I looked down at my own body, I saw my blouse was on, albeit somewhat clumsily, I felt a little relieved.

That’s right, I felt this way because, even for just a mere moment——

Man with a scar on his eye: Morning, lil robin... or was it somethin’ else?

(Wh... who——)

A man I didn’t recognize was sitting at the bedside, enjoying the same honey-colored liquor as Alfons.

Man with a scar on his eye: Well then, I’ll take my leave here. See ya, Al.

After flashing me a smile, he threw Alfons a meaningful look before leaving.

As he did, the fragrance of a perfume lingered behind.

(Huh, I feel like this is really similar to the fragrance in Alfons’ room...)

(...but, how should I put it... it’s a bit more potent... and a tad different.)

Kate: ...That person just now... is he one of your friends?

Alfons: Well, yes. But... hehe, I do feel ‘that person just now’ is an awfully cold phrase, don’t you think?

A: Especially considering he was the one who so lovingly shared a bed with you, you know.

Kate: .........What?

I couldn’t even blink, instead just staring back, rendered dumbfounded.

Kate: What... are you...?

Alfons: Why, of course, he was the man whom you had sex with while blindfolded.

Kate: Wh...

(No way... he must be lying...)

Kate: But I thought... I was doing it with you...

Alfons: And a foolish thought it was. I did say that I wouldn’t lay a finger on you until you realize what you’re feeling is naught but a delusion, did I not?

Kate: ...What... in the world are you saying...?

Alfons: Think back carefully... about the sensations of the tongue, the movements of the fingers. Could you say that was really me?

Kate: N-no... stop... you’re lying.

Shaking my head, I refused to accept his words.

(It has to be a lie, I’m sure...!)

(Because, that... those feelings——)

Alfons: Am I? Then what of how strong those hands held your back? And the heat inside your body? What was its shape?

Kate: I-I’m sure it was you...

(There’s no way I could mistake that... how could I mistake someone else for Alfons? That’s impossible.)

Alfons: Oh, yes, and before I forget, how was the smell? Actually, I applied the same perfume on him, you know.

As though cluing me into the truth, he faced me with a cold smile——

And before I knew it, I had Alfons pinned on the bed.

Kate: Just how bloody cruel can you get...!!

K: I don’t understand, why would you lie to me like this!? Help me understand...

(I know Alfons would never hurt others for no reason.)

(I mean, yes, we don’t exactly see eye to eye on things like rationale or morals...)

But, even so, at the very least, I knew Alfons didn’t take well to seeing others saddened, or frightened, or hurt.

In fact, he loathed it, to the point he would use his Cursed ability — something that was meant to be kept a national secret.

Alfons: Lie about what now? I spoke nothing but the truth.

A: I know you hold quite an obstinate character, so I thought this to be the quickest way to make you understand.

A: And to see you deceived just like that——I see you don’t really hold that thing called ‘love’ for me.

Kate: ...!!

(And who does he think he is, to decide what I’m feeling?)

Kate: I... I really, truly—!

Alfons: Loved me? ...Or what, did you mean to say love?

(——The one who made love to me was Alfons. I’m sure of it.)

And that man from before just had a fragrance similar to Alfons.

Because that smell was so clearly different from the one that came from the one who did it with me.

Alfons was telling a lie as we spoke,

with those hollow eyes that veiled the truth.

Kate: Just why... would you do such a thing...?

K: Why do you have to reject me so much... just over me saying ‘I love you’?

(I——)

(All I ever wanted was your ‘truth’... even if it was only a single one.)

Kate: Not once did I say we had to be official.

K: All I wanted was to like you, and be by your side… and yet…

Alfons: …Because I find it a nuisance.

A: The fact you had fallen for me, and the fact you like me even now... all of it.

Those cold eyes reflected my dazed self.

Alfons: All this was meant to be was an entertainment that lasts but a month, and then letting it end the same way.

A: So, care to let go of me now?

Kate: ...!

[1] I don’t want to. (+4 / +4)

[2] Why should I?

[3] If that’s what you really want.

Kate: No, I don’t want to...

Alfons: Do you act like a spoiled child to trouble me like this?

As though to run away, he pulled his shirt away from my fingers.

Alfons: That said, with this I take it you finally understand now?

A: I do implore you not to seek something like my ‘truth’ and whatnot any further.

Picking up his tie, which had gone undone, he wrapped it around my neck.

And as though engaging in a dangerous play, the smooth silk tie tightened around me like a snake...

Alfons: Should you cease this fool’s errand of trying to find something that could never be there and find yourself seeking pleasure or a convenient diversion,

A: I will be more than happy to give as much of that as you’d like, yes?

Just like that, after he gave me those words meant to soothe me, he pulled his tie away.

Alfons: A carriage heading for the castle has been prepared for you downstairs.

And thus, without uttering a word about where he was going, he left the room.

—— Perspective shift ——

Before dawn broke——the doors opened, and the sound of a single pair of footsteps came in.

Roger: The lil lady came back looking god awful, you know?

R: All because of you, I’d guess.

While crossing his arms, Roger called out to the silhouette, stopping him in his tracks.

Alfons: .........

Alfons took a breath, seemingly having lost all interest.

Alfons: Such was bound to happen.

Roger: What bollocks. I do acknowledge that at first, Kate may have really needed an escape.

R: But no matter what, she would always face things with her own eyes, without getting discouraged.

R: At some point she should have grown out of playing around with you for pleasure.

R: But then you went and meddled even more, because that’s what you wanted. Or is that not it?

Roger poked Alfons’ chest with his index finger, telling him in the gesture to show what he was hiding in the depths of his heart.

Alfons: .........It would seem so. I will reflect on it.

A: ...is a response you’d be satisfied with, I take it?

Roger: You know that’s not what I mean...

Alfons: Now, if she were truly someone who had so much love in her to spare for someone without an ounce of it, namely myself,

A: loving my heart and my body, and pouring her time into me,

A: she would end up thinking, ‘Just who did I give my everything to’ in the end and whatnot...

A: Now isn’t that just a comedy to behold?

Roger: You…

Alfons’ words were laced with a derisive tone, causing Roger to fall silent.

Alfons: Reality is already positively stacked with tragedies like a mille-feuille as it is. I hardly have any intention of throwing more where that came from.

No matter what happened, he held no resentment or anger, and he had decided to be a bystander. This man, Alfons’ ‘truth’ seeped its way into his unpleasant tone of voice.

Roger: You could maybe change your fate, you know.

He had said these words countless times to those hollow eyes before...

Alfons: ‘So work with me on it’?

A: I would sooner do just about anything else but that. Now if you’ll kindly excuse me, I bid you a good night and sweet dreams.

...and as always, he left those words before turning his back on Roger.

Roger: ...Good lord.

R: He’s a handful if I’ve ever seen one.

The sound of their footsteps went in opposite directions——and then they faded into the darkness.

—— Kate’s POV ——

(I couldn’t sleep a wink...)

While sprawled on the bed, I listened to the merry singing of the birds outside.

I had ended up thinking long and hard about the reason why Alfons would speak such a cruel lie and try to push me away,

and unable to seek refuge in a gentle dream, morning ended up coming.

(Not only does my head hurt from all the alcohol, but also my heart as well...)

(Did he really despise me so much?)

—— Flashback ——

Kate: All I wanted was to like you, and be by your side… and yet…

Alfons: …Because I find it a nuisance.

—— End flashback ——

‘The fact you had fallen for me, and the fact you like me even now’——

Kate: He finds it all a nuisance...

Like a boat, those words seemed to lean and blanket over me, and I buried my face into my pillow.

(...I have to get up.)

(Otherwise, their trust in me as the fairytale keeper will be in the line.)

(Before I forget about what happened in the Docklands, I need to write a report on it...)

——‘Why subject yourself to such a thing? Just write whatever and you can be done with it, no?’

(But I can’t, because it’s my... job...)

When I realized I was talking to Alfons in my mind, I once again buried my face in my pillow, riddled with self-loathing.

Kate: Ahh... jeez...

The Alfons in my mind just wouldn’t leave me.

(‘Mind control’ and ‘brainwashing’...)

(Those were the characteristics of Alfons’ Curse... or that’s how it should be.)

(His Curse... come to think of it——)

Kate: He never did tell me what his tragic fate was...

Just when I murmured this, I heard a knock at the door.

(Who could it be?)

I got up with a start, and straightening myself up a bit, I opened the door.

Kate: Come in.

Roger: How’re you feeling, lil lady?

Kate: Oh, Roger, did you need anything?

Roger: Well, I saw you coming back looking pale as a sheet,

R: so I brought you some medicine to help with a hangover.

Handing me a pill case, I opened the door more.

Kate: Thank you for coming all this way... If you’d like, you can come inside. I was just thinking about brewing some tea to help with drowsiness.

Roger: Well then...

The moment I closed the door, Roger pushed against my shoulders.

Kate: ...Wh—Roger!?

I raised my head in surprise, only to find Roger’s face, close enough that I could feel his breath——

Roger: Even after getting hurt by that villain of a man, you just never learn, do you, lil lady?

to be continued…

Act 2 • The dishonest front of a mirror

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[carnelianly]

this one is heavy. be forewarned!

you married art all of those years ago. dedicated your life to him. you spend your days delicately balancing his schedule, leaving him enough time to rest and take breaks and heal his body after all of the intense practices and you set up his appointments and interviews, you research other players and their play styles and you give him advice on how to individually take down each opponent like every match is a fight for his life.

and he’s still fucking losing. you’ve had it with him and his excuses. what, he’s rusty coming off that nasty shoulder injury? too fucking bad, art. he shouldn’t be this pathetic. you do everything for him, and he doesn’t appreciate your efforts enough to try harder. you don’t care that he’s emotionally exhausted, that he’s starting to despise holding that racket.

when he comes home from practice, you play the role of the loving wife, asking him about his day and how he feels and what’s going on in art land. his shitty attitude is making you twitch with rage.

and then suddenly he’s pinned down against the floor, your hands on his shoulders keeping him in place (and his sensitive shoulder keeps him from trying to wiggle out from under you, he is incredibly fragile there.)

“you’re a fucking joke,” you growl, deeply, with a sense of hatred for art you never thought you could wield in your heart. he’s your husband, you chose to marry him. you’ve been soft and sweet with him, fond of his soft dirty blonde hair and freckles and his pale skin that looked golden in the sweetest lighting.

how could you hate him so deeply?

“uh— uh, baby? wha- what? why..—“ he stammers. it’s useless, you’re clearly not in the mood to talk. and you’re looking at him like you despise him. art wants to disappear, die even under your scrutiny, maybe his absence will make you feel better.

that night, you fuck him with every ounce of hatred in your body, strap on pounding into his ass until his body stops trying to push back onto you and just collapses on itself. he takes and takes and takes it until his vision starts to get blurry, and you fuck him like you’re trying to impale him, push your dildo in deep enough and hard enough to puncture his heart and stab it till to stops beating.

he moans helplessly, unable to put any coherent thoughts together. he’s nothing without you. he knows you hate him, but he’s nothing. he has to take this. he has to let your hurt him. he has to let you hate him, or else you’ll leave and he needs you. he has to take it.

he cums harder than he ever has, yet he’s never wanted to disappear more.

and then when you’re done, he collapses on the bed as you clean him up, just enough so he’s not messy with his own cum all over him.

he cries later, sobbing into the pillow as you stare down at him in utter resentment. he’s useless now. he can’t play well, can’t be a good husband, can’t satisfy you unless you get violent with him. to you, the pleasure never feels quite as good as it does when you’re violent.

your orgasms just feel better when you know art is miserable. and you’ll make him suffer for the rest of his life. he deserves it.