#skin and muscles tighten and tear (the rips over the missing eye) and so the fat gets heated from that fire

[whatudottu]

Have a human Shockwave! I wanted to try figuring out how Empurata would work (the burning + partial melting of the face), but I also didn't want to disrespect facial differences in doing so-

[mykneeshurt]

Greed

Title picture by the talented @loneghostwolf

Graves x AFAB!reader

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, explicit nature, p in v, f in v, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, f in a, implied rough sex, implied breathplay (please tell me if anything is missing)

————-

The series of events that led you to having Commander Graves fingers buried deep inside your cunt, again, were all but a mystery. Bent over his knee, trousers haphazardly discarded on the floor, panties ripped, you were a drooling mess. His middle and ring fingers pumped your tight hole with little regard. Graves wanted one, thing and one thing only.

To punish you.

To punish you for your insolence. Showing him up in front of the General. That would not do.

This wasn’t your first punishment by his hand, oh no. He loved nothing more than making you squirm, writhe, convulse from overstimulation. If there was one thing in this world he craved, it was the sound of your pretty voice begging him to stop. Pleading with him as he collected your orgasms like fine gems.

He needed them.

He was greedy.

‘C’mon baby, c’mon baby, c’mon baby’ he panted as he felt your cunt clench around him. Muffled whimpers at his feet as you bit down on the fleshy part of your hand. Trying your hardest to stifle your moans of pure bliss. His thumb brushed your clit, firm and with purpose, pushing you over the edge. Your back arched, pulling your chest away from his legs, a firm hand quickly pushed you back down. ‘Oh no, you can give me another one sweetheart. I ain’t done yet.’

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, you’d given him two powerful orgasms already. Graves never told you how many he wanted, he just took them instead. And he always got what he wanted.

‘I can’t … please … I can’t’ you whimpered again, voice strained and hoarse. His calloused hand softly trailed against the small of your back, electricity shot through your spine. He could be gentle when he wanted to be. But that was rare, you were his to use, his to punish.

A harsh smack on your ass cheek swiftly reminded you who was in charge. He watched as the muscle jiggled from the force of his hand. A handprint soon becoming visible. Marking you.

‘I want more sweetheart. You’re gonna give it to me. Maybe then I’ll reward you with my cock.’ His voice was harsh, demanding, patronising. Trailing a finger along your creamy slit he slid his fingers back in, before adding a third. Gasping at the stretch you clutched at his ankles, desperately trying to ground yourself. ‘Such a pretty pussy baby’ he cooed as he began thrusting his fingers once more. The stretch ached and burnt, pushing ever so slightly past the line of pleasure.

Blood rushed to your head as his muscular thighs pressed into your diaphragm, restricting your breathing. You gasped for air as he continued his assault on your cunt. Eyes rolling back in your head as you neared a third. ‘That’s it, be a good girl, cum on my fingers, keep goin’ he praised, his breath singed your skin with his words. The sound of your cunt was sinful, only spurring him on further.

He felt your cunt begin to tighten again, it didn’t take much this time. As you fell into oblivion strangled cries left your throat. ‘That’s it, just like that, fuck baby’ he whispered as he watched you pulsate around him.

Removing his fingers he placed them on his tongue, groaning at your taste. He felt your ribs shake against his thighs, gasping for any oxygen you could find. ‘Oh sweetheart, you tired? Shame, cause I ain’t finished.’

He pulled you upright before forcing you backwards onto the desk, he watched as your chest rose and fell. Gulping air into your oxygen deprived lungs, beads of sweat gathered at your collar bones, you looked fucking beautiful. As a small reward he placed his lips onto yours, tasing yourself you deepened the kiss. Rolling your tongue against his as he grunted into your mouth.

His kissed and nipped at your jaw, your neck, your collar bones all the way back to your cunt. He pressed his tongue against your extremely sensitive clit, causing your hips to jerk. Wrapping his arm around your hips he pinned you to the desk. Digging your nails into his forearms you left crescent indentations in his skin. He hissed at the sting.

His tongue was warm, wet, as he grazed it teasingly over your clit, again and again. He groaned into you, savouring every morsel of your arousal on his tongue. Alternating between your clit and hole he sucked, nipped, kissed, licked every part of you. His hot breath fanned over your pussy adding a new layer of pleasure.

Arching your back you gripped at your breast, head thrown back, mouth open at his ministrations. He pushed his middle finger against your entrance as you whined, before teasing your ass hole with his ring finger. His licks were languid, sloppy as he filled your holes with his fingers, you felt full.

Lifting your head you caught his gaze, staring at you from the depths of your folds. His blue eyes looked more like a void as his pupils were blown out with pure desire. Muffled groans melted into your core as he developed his own rhythm, reading your body as he orchestrated another orgasm. Tears fell from your eyes as the pleasure punched you full force in the gut. Every sense now on high alert, your vision blurred and your hearing became nothing but static.

‘Fu … god … I can’t, Graves please, fuck’ you stammered, tripping over every word. Every syllable. Your skin ached and burnt at his touch, complete and utter overstimulation. You felt him smile against your sensitive clit, his breath hot and misty. ‘Goddamn sweetheart’ he purred.

Standing above you splayed out on his desk he tapped your pussy with his hand, causing you to jolt. ‘Since you’ve been such a good girl, seems only fit you get my cock. Wha’ya think baby? Think you can handle one more?’ His rubbed his hands along your thighs as you panted, trying to even out your breathing. This would be orgasm number four. Fuck.

Before you could even answer him he thrust his cock into your hole, making you arch your entire back off the desk. The wood creaked from the weight place on top of it. Hoisting your thigh over his hip he deepened his reach, his cock penetrating even deeper. But fuck did it feel so good. ‘Fuuuuck’ he growled, ‘got no idea what this pussy does to me sweetheart. Fuckin perfect.’ He fell into a punishing pace, watching as you thighs bounced around him.

Your brows knitted together as he filled you completely, resting your head in the crux of the elbow you panted into your skin. Your breasts moved rhythmically under your t-shirt as he slammed into you. ‘Phillip … Jesus … shit’ you whined, fighting for breath. He tapped your clit again ‘that’s right baby, say my name.’ He gritted his teeth as he felt himself edging closer and closer to his climax.

‘Fuck, I’m gonna cum … fuck!’ You whined, screwing your eyes shut. ‘Cum on this cock, come on, fuck baby’ he drawled. The sound that came from your throat could only be described as pornographic. The coil in your abdomen snapped as your orgasm crashed over you. ‘Shit, look at that’ he hummed, eyes transfixed on your cunt. The faint sound of gushing fought its way through the white noise of your orgasm. It was only then you realised you’d squirted all over his cock.

Pulling out he swiped his tongue along your slit, slurping up your juices before spitting it back onto your clit. He continued fucking you on his desk, your completely blissed out body led limp. Gripping onto your hips he dug his finger tips into the soft skin, his thrusts became slower, deeper, more purposeful. Dropping his head backwards he panted and moaned as he released hot ropes of cum into your used cunt.

You looked up at him through hooded lids, faint trails of mascara ran down your face. Still inside you he bent down and placed a warm kiss onto your lips. ‘Goddamn sweetheart, such a good fuckin girl for me’ he muttered against your mouth. You kissed him back, still panting and dizzy for the experience.

Little did you know he way already thinking about the next time.

———

A/N - I’ve never written for Graves before lmao … can you tell?

[katnisspeetaprim]

Clipped Wings

Lucifer Morningstar/Fallen Angel!Reader.

Based on this post by @helluvapoison who asked me to tag them when it's done! This is my first time ever writing for Hazbin Hotel, so I'm so sorry if it's bad, I just couldn't stop myfelf from writing this!

Warnings: mutilaton menions, kissing, crying, established relationship, angst, fluff.

Word Count: 706 Hazbin M.list

Getting undressed after a long day was the best feeling in the world. You and Lucifer had come down to help with Charlie’s hotel grand re-opening, and you loved Charlie you really did, but the girl could be a lot sometimes, especially when it was something as important and exciting as this.

You sat down on the bed in your underwear and stretched out your sore muscles with a sigh of relief.

You couldn’t help but smile when you felt Lucifer’s hands run across your shoulders as he knelt behind you on the bed.

‘Hey pretty lady.’

‘Hey yourself.’ You grinned back as he began to kiss along your neck, pausing to gently at the base causing you to tremble slightly.

‘Stop.’ You giggled and pulled away. ‘We aren’t having sex in your daughters hotel.’

‘But that’s what hotels are for doll! Sexual debauchery!’ You shot him a playful glare over your shoulder and he threw his hands up in defeat.

‘Fine, I guess I can wait if you insist on being so cruel to little old me.’ You chuckled and smiled softly to each other and you fell into a comfortable silence. You again faced away and allowed him to continue massaging your shoulders.

You were almost falling asleep from the relaxing sensation of Lucifer’s touch, when his fingers began to travel down your back and ghost over the scars that lay in the middle.

He didn’t miss the way you tensed up when he reached that area, but you quickly relaxed yourself, not wanting to make him worry. The area was sensitive. Even though they were healed now, it took a long time from when they were first ripped away from you.

‘You never did tell me how you lost them.’ Lucifer spoke much more softly now, all sense of the playfulness you were used to was now absent.

You stayed silent, eyes now glued to the floor as you stayed frozen in place.

‘You don’t have to say anything.... But I want you to know you can trust me.’ There was an essence of a pleading tone to his voice. Lucifer loved you and he knew that part of your life was painful to think about, but he was desperate to know what happened. If he could ease your pain in any way, then he would do anything.

Lucifer placed another kiss on your neck but not like before. This one was soft, gentle even and most definitely comforting as he patiently waited for you to respond.

‘Adam wanted me to join the exorcists.’ You croaked out after a few moments, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat.

You couldn’t see his face, but his fingers still on your scars for a split second, before he continued to caress the raised skin.

‘I said no, obviously. But nobody but the exorcists were supposed to know so...’ You trailed off, no longer able to keep the tear at bay as you covered your mouth, trying to stop the sobs.

‘Adam did this to you?’ Lucifer all but growled out behind you. As if he didn’t have enough reasons to hate that narcissistic prick.

You let out a humourless laugh and shook your head.

‘No. The coward got Lute to do his dirty work... You can guess what happened next...’ You cast your eyes down in defeat as tears freely ran down your face.

The life you had down in Hell with Lucifer and your found family was amazing and you wouldn’t change what you had now for the world... But you would be lying if you didn’t sometimes miss everything you had and your friends in Heaven.

Lucifer wasted no time in enveloping his arms round you and pulling you back to cradle against his chest. He placed his head atop yours and just let you cry as you clung to him for dear life.

‘You don’t have to worry about him anymore.’ Lucifer soothed as his grip on you tightened. He was using all his will power to keep his own tears at bay for your sake. He had to be strong for you right now.

‘As long as I’m with you, nobody will hurt you again. That I can promise.’

[bzurk]

sound

It would be too selfish to have all of you - your thoughts, your body, your mind and soul. Simon doesn't deserve it. But he needs it, craves it. So he'll break you down, bit by bit. Because if he can't have you wholly, he'll settle for the pieces instead.

<- part 1 here

<- part 2 here

part 4 here ->

It was easy enough to push it all aside, to hide it in the back of your head. They were just photos. It had been months without escalation. You kept yourself busy, too drained and weary to pay your growing photo collection much heed. You’d solidified your place with your new team, a position that filled you with pride and made you hold your chin a bit higher. You’d made new friends, comfortable within your cocoon of company, finding safety in numbers. You felt… good.

But you had grown complacent.

One night, after a particularly gruelling double shift, you trudge into your room, exhaustion pulling at every muscle. The quiet hum of the ventilation comforts you as you collapse onto your cot, too tired to even change out of your uniform. As you close your eyes and start drifting off to sleep, your hand brushes over paper.

An envelope.

Your heart sinks, a stone plummeting into a black abyss. You know without even opening it that it’s from him. You rip it open anyway, rough and frantic. Your hands tremble as you pull out the contents; more photos, more vile words. And one photo in particular that makes your blood run cold. It’s you, in your private room, asleep in this very bed, sheets tangled around your legs, face serene and vulnerable. "You look so peaceful. Would hate to ruin it."

Your face contorts in pain and disgust as you rush to the bathroom, eyes wide and tears streaming down your cheeks. In your stomach was a roiling storm, a tempestuous mix of fear, anger, and disgust that threatened to swallow you whole. The sound of retching echoes in the small bathroom, followed by gasps for air. Your hands are shaking as you try to keep yourself from collapsing to the ground.

The mirror behind you shows a face you barely recognize—haunted eyes, clenched jaw, skin pale and clammy. The person looking back at you is a shell of their former self.

You turn on the faucet, letting the water run over your hands. You scrub at them vigorously, trying to wash away the feeling of dirt that seems to have seeped into every pore of your skin. But it’s no use. The filth from those photos has tainted you in a way that no amount of soap and water can fix.

With trembling hands, you reach up and splash cold water on your face. It’s like a slap in the face, jolting you out of your thoughts for just a moment. But as soon as the shock wears off, you’re right back where you started - helpless and violated.

You bunked with your fellow sergeants after that, your sleeping bag stolen from your field pack, laid out on their floor and cushioned with spare blankets, completely undignified, pitiable.

You’re caught in a web, strands tightening around you, each day a new knot of fear and loathing. You can’t go to your superiors, can’t risk the fallout. And whoever is doing this knows that, banking on your silence, counting on your fear. They’re unravelling you, bit by bit, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

—

The nightmare hadn't abated. Instead, it had mutated, spreading its tendrils deeper into your life, suffocating every semblance of normalcy.

The photos were replaced by seemingly innocuous gifts. A protein bar you'd mentioned liking, placed on your desk. A book you’d once mentioned wanting to read, found between your medical tomes. Each time, you tried to rationalize it—maybe a well-meaning colleague, someone trying to be kind. You ignored the gnawing feeling that someone was watching, listening, someone who knew more about you than they should.

But the gifts soon turned sinister. A note, stained with something dark and sticky, left in the space your pillow once occupied in your abandoned room. A patch from your uniform that had gone missing weeks ago, now returned, smeared with dirt. Each new item sent shivers down your spine, made you feel violated in a way words couldn't describe. The gifts were a silent message: "I know you."

As the days dragged on, you became hyper-aware of everything. The sounds of the base - the distant hum of machinery, the murmur of voices, the clatter of boots - became a relentless soundtrack to your paranoia. Every face you passed seemed a potential threat, every glance a possible leer, watching, listening. You couldn’t shake the feeling that eyes were always on you, stripping you bare, dissecting your every move. A spotlight shone down on you, glaring and blinding, highlighting every move and action, a camera hidden beneath your clothes to document your every moment.

You tried to push it out of your mind, to focus on your work and the soldiers depending on you. But it was getting harder. Every time you entered your quarters or the med-bay, you couldn't help but scan the room, looking for the next twisted gift. Your heart would race, your hands would tremble, and you’d feel that creeping unease settle deeper into your bones. He was under the beds, hiding in a tall cabinet, hidden behind the doors, a sinister boogeyman lingering in every shadow, haunting every inch of your space, your life. You felt possessed, haunted.

The most chilling gift arrived one night when you returned from the gym, muscles sore and mind foggy. As you opened your gym bag, exhaustion turned into cold dread. There, at the bottom of the bag, was an adult toy, pristine and new, packed neatly among your fresh clothes. You froze, the blood draining from your face as you stared at the object, a grotesque reminder that your stalker did not have harmless intent.

You shoved the toy back into the bag, your hands shaking. The violation was complete. You felt dirty, exposed, and utterly helpless. No longer could you convince yourself it was just photos. This was an invasion, a desecration of your very being, reducing you to a bundle of anxiety. You wanted to scream, to tear the base apart looking for the monster who was doing this to you. But you couldn't.

You had to stay composed, had to keep your fear hidden. You couldn't let him win. You were strong, you were composed, unaffected. You were a soldier through and through - trained to withstand physical and emotional torture. You had seen battles, blood, war. But this felt different. This felt personal and twisted in ways you never thought possible.

The gifts continued, each one more disturbing than the last. The air around you grew thick with tension, with the whispers of your colleagues. They noticed the change in you, the way you jumped at shadows, the way you avoided being alone. Gossip spread like wildfire, and you became the subject of hushed conversations.

Your decision to share a bunk with Johnny and Kyle was the latest topic of gossip among the soldiers. As you walked through the hallways, their knowing looks and hushed whispers followed you. You could hear the snide comments and speculations: "She must be sleeping with both of them," some said. "She's just using them," others whispered.

But the truth was much more complicated and painful. You had opened up to Johnny and confided in him about everything, and he had no complaints when you moved yourself in. Kyle, too, had been a supportive presence during all the chaos. But the rumours still hurt, making you feel dirty and betrayed by the very people you were supposed to trust and protect, the very people you had stitched back together and fought amongst.

You tried to ignore it all and keep your head held high, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. The gifts, photos, and gossip were chipping away at your armour, slowly breaking you down. You felt like you were losing yourself, your tough exterior crumbling away piece by piece.

Every night, as you lay in the dark on the cold floor of Johnny and Kyle’s room, you could feel the weight of the silence pressing down on you. You could hear the steady breathing of your friends, a reminder that you weren't entirely alone. But even their presence couldn't chase away the nightmares that haunted your sleep. You were trapped in a never-ending cycle of fear and paranoia, and you couldn't see a way out. The walls of the base seemed to close in around you, the shadows growing longer and more menacing with each passing day. You were a prisoner in your own mind, tormented by an unseen enemy who took pleasure in your suffering.

Your stalker manifested himself only in your dreams - nightmares - as a shapeless, formless terror that defied comprehension. Its presence was palpable, a malevolent force that permeated the air with dread. It moved with fluid grace, slipping through the darkness behind your eyes like a spectre. It haunted every part of you.

The nightmares were always vague, a cryptic dance of shadows, whispers, and taunts. They flowed into one another like watercolors, vivid and terrifying before bleeding into an indistinguishable blur when you woke. But you knew they were always some variation of your dissection, taking you apart incrementally.

The tearing of an arm, releasing stitching and stuffing and tugging fabric apart as if you were nothing but a doll. A beast tearing apart your skin, flaying back muscle and tissue to peer at your vulnerable insides.

The worst nightmares of them all was when your stalker took the form of something distinctly masculine, breaking you apart from the inside, bludgeoning and forcing your body to accommodate to his - carving out a space inside of you, breaking you, moulding you. Taking apart all your pieces to build you into something else. He played with you, sending pangs of discomfort and pain down to your very core, striking with surgical precision at your most sensitive places. Every inch of you was violated, every boundary crossed.

You couldn't even find refuge in sleep anymore. Fear followed you, taking hold and refusing to let go, festering inside of your soul.

Your world narrowed to survival - surviving the next day, the next hour, the next minute. The descending madness came in waves, crashing over you with each new gift, each new photo. The world became a blur of camouflage uniforms and concrete walls, punctuated by the sound of gunfire and explosions during drills. Your mind was a battleground, and you were losing.

—

You're on edge, constantly looking over your shoulder in the barracks or the mess hall, your thoughts consumed by the horrors that haunt your dreams. You can almost taste the fear in the back of your throat every morning as you wake up, dry and chalky like old concrete. Your eyes dart around swiftly, scanning for any sign of movement or unusual behaviour from your fellow soldiers. But they go about their duties with the same quiet determination you've grown accustomed to; their muscular, trained physiques moving with precision as they run drills and clean their weapons. Some of them give you a nod or a grunt of acknowledgment, but mostly they keep to themselves, lost in their own thoughts or joking around like it's just another day. It feels like a trap sometimes—this forced normalcy when everything feels so twisted and off-kilter underneath.

During downtime, you try to find solace in conversation with Soap, sharing cigarettes and stories from home between drags on your smoke. He listens intently, his brow furrowed in concern as he takes long drags himself, but there's always something distracted about him now, a shadow haunting his usually bright blue eyes. You know he feels it too; something's not right among Task Force 141 these days. The whispers around the base are getting louder, more insistent as night falls and the lights are dimmed—rumours about your work, your prior proclivities, your health.

As you meticulously stitch up a soldier's wound—an accident during drills, he'd claimed—your focus is solely on the task at hand. The sterile scent of antiseptic fills the small med bay, mingling with the coppery tang of blood. Soap stands a few feet behind you, his presence a silent reassurance, but his attention elsewhere.

Without warning, the soldier speaks up, his words cutting through the sterile silence like a jagged knife. "So, all three 141 sergeants," he sneers, mockery dripping from his voice. "Must be cozy, huh? Three's a crowd, if you ask me."

Anger simmers beneath the surface, all of your emotions on a hairpin trigger, but you force yourself to remain calm and focused as you continue your work. "It’s nothing like that," you reply evenly, trying to keep your voice steady.

The soldier smirks, clearly enjoying getting under your skin. "Oh, come on, Stitches," he taunts. "Don't play innocent with me. We all know what's going on. You open your legs for the whole task force?”

Soap's presence behind you is a silent anchor, but you can feel the tension radiating off him. You know he's listening, but you also know he trusts you to handle the situation.

Taking a deep breath, you try to suppress the surge of anger threatening to consume you. “Open your mouth one more time, and I’ll have you written up for insubordination,” you say through gritted teeth, maintaining a facade of calm professionalism. "Need I remind you I outrank you, corporal?"

But the soldier isn't done yet, his words like poison arrows aimed straight at your heart. "There’s no need for that," he purrs with a sneer. Cold fingers trail up your arm, dancing along the sleeves of your coat, sending shivers down your spine. "You can come to my quarters tonight and I'll make sure to properly thank you.”

The words hung in the air like a thick fog, suffocating and heavy. Your mind was a chaotic storm of violence and anger, urging you to take action. Put your scissors into his thigh. Dig the scalpel deeper into his flesh. Pluck at his veins with the tweezers. Force a camera to his face and document every second of his pain.

The snap of your gloves being removed breaks through the tense silence, shattering the eerie atmosphere. With calculated calmness, you discard the nitrile gloves into a nearby bin before turning to wash your hands. Then, with a nonchalant hum, you search through drawers and cupboards until you retrieve a suture kit and gauze, offering it to the soldier.

"You're right," you smile sweetly, ignoring the twitch in your cheek. "I slept my way to the top." You extend the sterile suture pack towards him once again. "So you'll have to find someone else to stitch you up, because the only thing I'm good for is my cunt."

The smirk on the soldier's face falters as he stares at the suture kit in your outstretched hand. Soap chuckles behind you, releasing some of the tension in the room.

"Och, laddie, I dinnae think ye want ta push yer luck with Stitches here," he drawls in his thick Scottish accent. "She's not one to be messin' with.”

"Wrap it up tight before you leave. I don’t want your blood on my floor,” you gestured to the gauze, “Then you have to cut off the lifted skin and stitch it up, corporal. It should only need three or four stitches. Easy, really. Now, if you don't mind," you say coolly, "I have more important things to do.” Like keeping down the bile threatening to erupt from your throat.

The soldier reluctantly takes the suture kit and gauze roll from your hands and begins wrapping up his wound. You purposely ignore his struggle to sit up from the bed and his wince as he presses against the bandage on his thigh.

"Aye, Sergeant," he grumbles. "Sorry for causing any trouble."

You purposely disregarded his struggle to get up from the bed, the pained expression on his face, and how he kept a hand pressed against the wrapping on his thigh. The weight of your emotions were too heavy to bear as you turned your back on the soldier, acutely aware of the pain he was still in. The sound of the doors closing was a final release, allowing you to finally let go and surrender to the tears that had been threatening to consume you the entire time.

You sank down onto the nearest stool, head in your hands, and let the sobs wrack your body. Soap was there in an instant, a hand on your shoulder.

You couldn’t keep doing this. Someone was taking a chisel to your psyche, chipping away piece after piece, uncaring for the spiderwebbing cracks splitting your skin. You’d lost your privacy, your sanity, your friends and colleagues and your morals.

You couldn’t afford to lose any more parts of yourself.                            

[urdepressedslut]

Stray ❝part ten❞

♡ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader/The Winter Soldier x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You have another scare, clinging to Bucky for comfort. Later, you get another surprise visit.

♡ Warnings: fluffy, heavy angst, dark themes, hallucinations, panic attacks, slight self hate, language, minor violence, cliffhanger don’t hate me

Part 11

The plump, soft lips roamed through your thoughts. The feeling haunting, in the way you could still feel his on yours. The pulsing that his lips had left. The phantom ache from his lips missing. The taste of him that had you addicted, ravenous for more. The way his breath mixed with yours dizzying. His scent alone messing with your head, pulling you into a trance— one that you never wanted to escape from.

He consumed your mind, the way he had become your everything.

You found yourself staring at the wall, ear to his chest listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. Your head rising and falling from his breathing. It was all so relaxing, you didn’t dare move a muscle in fear you’d interrupt the peace.

“Demon.”

A hiss into your left ear had you gasping, slightly jumping in his arms. You glanced to his face, relieved to find him still asleep. The calmness was ripped away as soon as it had arrived. You couldn’t feel his heartbeat anymore, only your own erratic one.

You looked around only with your eyes, scanning the room for all you could— from your position. The space was empty, him and you were the only ones in the room.

It wasn’t Bucky’s voice— No. It was dark, feminine.

“Whore.”

The voice hissed again, the hairs on your arm standing up. Goosebumps covering your flesh. You attempted to take a deep breath in, but the pounding in your ears made it difficult to focus.

There was no one here. It was all in your head. It’s all in your head.

You repeated to yourself in a mantra, coating the inside of your skull— mentally carving the words in your bone.

Bucky hummed to himself, bringing you back to reality. Even as he was sleeping soundly, he was able to ground you.

You carefully shifted on his chest, resting your chin on your arms. You let your eyes fall over his face. His skin, tan from the summer sun— jawline covered in stubble.

It was a weird sensation when he had kissed you and you had felt the dull scratching from his hairs. It was a strange feeling at first, but discovered you liked it.

Your eyes lifted to his closed ones, the way his lashes sat a top his cheeks— shading his faint freckles. Beautiful.

It was almost like you were stuck in a loop, letting your mind circle back to his lips once again. You didn’t think you could ever get tired of him.

“He’ll get tired of you.”

You jumped from the clarity of the voice, shifting as carefully as you could to scan the room. You’d never felt such raw fear, your eyes widening as your blood ran cold at the sight of a persons silhouette in the corner of the room.

Your muscles had never tensed so tightly, your limbs frozen, fingertips numb. You suddenly couldn’t feel Bucky against you anymore, only the skin crawling sensation of fear flowing through your veins. You itches to glance back at Bucky, to make sure he was still with you— but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the figure.

You fisted your hand into Bucky’s shirt, but you were unaware you were doing so— the feeling lost in your hands completely.

The figure twitched ever so slightly, the neck now crooked unnaturally. With the twitch, you felt your chest tighten. Your eyes burned, but you were terrified to blink.

Bucky groaned, waking up slowly. The feeling of your hand fisted in his shirt so tightly, had him curious. The sleep left him quickly when he went to run your back, and felt your muscles tensing. In fact, you were almost all the way sitting up, your attention on the dark corner of the room.

He sat up quickly, taking in your horrified expression. The way your pupils were blown in fear. You seemed to be in some sort of trance, the way you didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

“(Y/n)? You okay?” He tried, looking from your face to the corner of the room— the one that had you so disturbed.

The corner was empty, nothing but walls.

He slid his legs out from under you, escaping from you completely so he could sit in front of you.

“You can’t hide from me.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, watching the silhouette become more familiar— the shape turning into your Mother’s.

Bucky watched as you stared right through him, and your state only made him panic.

“(Y/n)! Come back to me!” He tried again, his attempts useless.

Your whole body was practically numb, the only feeling your chest constricting, the air being stolen from your lungs. Before you could react, the figure sprinted forward with a scream. You were a prisoner in your own body, paralyzed— waiting with dread as the figure approached closer and closer.

The figure ran into a beam of light, suddenly revealing your Mother. Her eyes were so bloodshot, they just looked completely red. Her skin was deathly pale, black veins across her face. Her smile was deranged, teeth stained black and yellow.

If you could look away, you would’ve— you were sure that image would stay trapped in your mind forever.

Just as she was inches from you, her face suddenly morphed into Bucky’s, the chains constricting you were suddenly released.

“(Y/n), you with m—”

With a scream you were jumping backwards off the bed, the image still burned into your brain. You registered it was Bucky, but you couldn’t help the reaction. Your skin crawled, you felt unsafe— you needed to escape.

Bucky flinched back from your scream, his hands hovering in front of him as he watched you back up so fast you tumbled off the bed onto the floor. Even then, you were still trying to scoot away, pushing yourself into the wall.

“Hey, hey— it’s okay! It’s just me! It’s Bucky!” He rushed out, taking slow steps towards you.

You felt out of control, eyes darting around the room— trying to seek out your Mother.

It’s not real. It’s all in your head.

Bucky’s voice was slightly muffled, your mind chaos. You felt nothing and too much suddenly all at once, it was overwhelming and painful. Your mind was restless, your muscles ached from all your movements.

“Leave me alone… please!” You whimpered into your hands, covering your face in shame.

Bucky watched as you pleaded out to the air, burying your face in your hands. His heart ached for you, all he wanted to do was swallow you in his embrace. Wishing he could play a mantra in your head, swearing that he’d protect you.

“I ca— I can’t do it a- anymore!” You cried, voice hoarse, body shaking with sobs.

“(Y/n), can you look at me?” He asked so desperately, still keeping his distance. “Please?”

The desperation in his voice cut through all the sorrow, your face peeking out from behind your hands. His face was pained, concern etching his features. You felt terrible for causing his distress.

He let a breath out he didn’t know he was holding as you met his eyes finally, his heart dropping at the defeated look you held.

“It’s just me and you here, you’re safe okay? I don’t know what you thought you saw, but it wasn’t real, okay?” He told you ever so softly. “You’re safe doll.”

Almost as if your mind paused the chaos for just a moment, you felt a wave of warmth wash through your tight chest. The nickname endearing, making you want to smile. He looked as if he wasn’t even aware he’d let it slip.

You checked the room one last time, not trusting your own mind. You let out a deep breath, getting up slowly from your position.

Bucky didn’t dare move an inch, letting you walk the full distance over to him, as he didn’t want to scare you— he wanted you to go at your own pace. Despite him wanting to wrap you up eagerly.

“Bucky…” You whimpered, closing the distance— pushing yourself aggressively into his arms. Wrapping your arms around his middle in a death grip, in fear he’d disappear, leaving you to your imagination.

“I’m here doll,” There it was again, causing you heart to swell, “You’re safe. I’m never going to let anyone or anything hurt you— ever.”

He promised, hugging you tightly to his body. He frowned to himself, feeling your tiny little heart beating so fast.

“I saw her Bucky.” You whispered, “I saw my Mother standing in the corner— just staring at me.”

Bucky kept rubbing your back, in hopes it would keep you calm. He didn’t say anything yet, waiting for you to finish.

“It felt so real.” You whispered even quieter, almost afraid that your Mother could hear you.

He gave you a tight squeeze, at the sound of your scared voice. He’d give anything to be able to take all your pain and suffering away— he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“I see things all the time— hear things even but,” You trailed off, lifting your face from his chest so you could look him in the eyes, “I’ve never seen my Mother like that. My nightmares are one thing but, to see her while I’m awake I—”

You took in a pained breath, wheezing from lack of air. Bucky cradled your face, holding your cheeks with delicacy.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe with me.” He took your hand, placing it over his heart. “Feel my heartbeat? Match yours to mine, okay? I’ve got you.”

You nodded your head in understanding, letting the thump of his strong heartbeat vibrate into your palm. The sensation relaxing, slowing your mind down— allowing your lungs to expand. Soon, you were nearly matching his rhythm. Your body felt lighter, the chaotic thoughts gone for now.

“You okay?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

You nodded, leaning into his hand.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.” You said, voice laced with shame.

Bucky shook his head, gently tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t apologize, you didn’t ask for this.” He told you in understanding.

“You probably think I’m crazy.” You muttered to yourself, but Bucky had heard— his heart breaking a little more.

“I don’t think that. I never will, okay?” He tried to convince you, holding your eyes with such promise.

You gazed into his blues, the genuineness written in them. It was moments like this that you felt the need to run. The feeling that you didn’t deserve him.

“Okay?” He asked again, this time softer.

You sniffled, nodding your head in his hands.

“Okay.” You whispered.

Truly, you felt better. Bucky was able to snap you back to reality, his presence alone enough to keep you grounded. That was more than you could ever ask for. He was your medicine.

He tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was so torn watching you deal with all this stuff. Maybe it was all in your head, but that didn’t stop him from having a deep hatred for all the pain your mind was causing you.

“Sometimes I think I see this blonde boy walking around,” He started, watching you listen intently, “When I turn corners in the house, I feel like I see him. But its not a scary thing, I almost feel like I know him.”

You listened with a heavy heart, his voice sad, his eyes sparkling with nostalgia that he wasn’t used to.

“He never says anything. Kinda wish he would, that way I could hear his voice.” He admitted sadly, lowering his eyes to your laps.

You raised your hand from his heart, gently grabbing his chin— lifting his face level with yours. You wanted to kiss him right then, but found yourself getting lost in his eyes. They held so much passion, his blues trapping you once again in a spell.

“Well, you’re in luck because I don’t think you’re crazy.” You mirrored from his previous statement earlier.

He smiled genuinely this time, the corners of his mouth curling up into that handsome smile. You caught yourself staring at him for too long and grew shy all of a sudden, glancing away from the intensity. Bucky just chuckled at your cheeks dusting pink— he thought you were adorable.

“You wanna try and go back to sleep?” He asked you, watching you chew on the inside of your cheek, thinking.

“Maybe later. I’m hungry.” You announced.

He nodded and stood up, holding out his hand for you to take. Once your palm was sat in his, he guided you downstairs. Before you could leave your room, you gave the corner one last glance. Double checking to make sure it was all in your head.

~

You both busied yourselves with making breakfast at five in the morning. Of course you both ended up making waffles, bacon and eggs— about an hour later. Your supply was running low, but you both didn’t seem to care. You were so caught up in living in the moment, waiting to worry about food supply later.

It was the peaceful moments like these that made the suffering worth it. You’d have one hundred more bad nights, just so you could have this moment with him.

“I sense a storm coming.” You announced so causally.

Bucky stopped mid bite, staring at you with a quizzical expression. He lowered his fork full of waffle, giving you a ‘Go on’ look.

“You sense?” He asked curiously.

You nodded your head.

“I get headaches before storms, I don’t really know why. But I’ve yet to get a headache and there not be a storm. So until then, I’m the god of storms.” You joked, watching Bucky shake his head chuckling.

“I don’t know about a god. An angel— yes.” He corrected you, going back to eating his waffles.

You blushed from his label. Ironic how that’s how you saw him.

“When I first saw you in the cemetery, I called you a fallen angel.” You told him, remembering his frail form resting against one of the stones.

So much had happened since that day, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“That’s what you thought I was?” He asked.

“Maybe. It’s not everyday you find a man sleeping against a gravestone.” You pointed out.

“That’s true.” He trailed off, remembering that day, “I remember waking up, and you had left some food and water— even a flower.”

You smiled, the fact that he had remembered that made you all fuzzy. It had made you feel important.

“I woke up so confused because, I didn’t know what I had done to deserve any of it,” He explained sadly, “I immediately thought that I had a guardian angel watching over me. I guess I did in a way.”

You didn’t mind being his guardian angel, and Bucky certainly didn’t mind being yours. Truthfully, both of you didn’t care about the labels— as long as you had each other.

“Life’s funny like that.” You muttered to yourself, focusing back on your food.

Bucky excused himself to the bathroom, leaving you with your thoughts. You knew you had to go to town eventually, but you dreaded that day.

Just barely, the sound of footsteps on the front porch had gotten your attention. You almost called out to Bucky, asking if he had gone outside— but walked to the doorway silently.

Pulling the door open, you peeked to your left— seeing nothing. As you turned to the right, you didn’t have any time to prepare yourself for the sledgehammer cracking down on your skull.

TAGLIST: @zonkie-bee @tortilla-maria1 @lizslibrary @sebastians-love @xiaosluvr @navs-bhat @ragingrainbowshipl @delicatecapnerd @buckybarnesandmarvel @viperchick47 @hunitweet @vixi-3303 @buckyb-stan @happinessinthebeing @mirtaqueen @blog-the-lilly @sebstanwhore @chayceschultz

[magnoliabutters]

• AS YOU WISH •

pairing: kas!vamp eddie munson x (she/her) reader

warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; vampire related violence & gore, trigger warning - possible hints of s-h; how does miss britney say it? toxic, anxiety, heavy make out sesh, lack of proof reading, etc.

word count: ~2.5k

stories of eddie munson series •  season two • 

note: my apologies for the wait my loves! we love a depressive episode + getting sick. the creative juices struggle to flow, but ii hope this does the trick. thank you so much for your patience 💗

Your hand grips tightly onto his wrist, dragging him towards the other room. Kas, however, has other plans. Despite your strength, he effortlessly pulls your fingers off of him. His smile filling his face. “Hold on, little one,” he says playfully. You turn towards him in confusion and shock. Your heart racing in your chest. Anger bubbling within you. Betrayal - there’s nothing worse than betrayal.

“I still need breakfast,” he says as he licks his lips. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning his shoulder against the wall. Just like that, you are reminded that the person before you is not only someone you do not trust, but is someone you have barely met. The looks may fool you, but the man before you is not at all safe.

You let out a calm breath as your body and muscles instinctually tighten. Abruptly, your mind chooses flight and rushes you towards a window. Kas laughs as he races behind you. His hands atop your waist before your fingers even reach the latch. He pulls you back against him as tears fall from your eyes. “Please don’t do it again,” you beg through your sobbing. Fear shooting throughout your head, painful messages to run away as fast as you can.

“It doesn’t hurt that bad, darlin’,” he whispers. His hand brushing your hair back behind your shoulder, exposing your neck once more. You push against his grasp once more, only to be met with his standing force. With a lack of effort, you mutter, “Please, you don’t have to do this.” A smile hasn’t left Kas’ face since you ran. He gently leans his head down into the crook of your neck. His lips press softly against your skin. You shudder at his touch. Your eyes water as you firmly close them shut.

Another kiss is pressed against your neck. You feel his cold breath against your skin. “You taste like honey,” he whispers against your ear. You swiftly lose your breath as your hand balls into a fist. “You’re delicious,” he murmurs as his hand slides up your stomach. Flashes of Eddie, the true Eddie, spring to your mind. He is the only one who touched you like this, will touch you like this.

Kas quickly spins you around. A gasp escapes you as you still quiver at his touch. Your eyes meeting his as his fingers dig into your waistline. “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he says as he watches the fear spread across your face. “There’s no reason to be scared.” He pulls you close, close enough where your chin crashes against the top of his collar bone. His arms wrapped around your hips. His mouth once again hovering over your neck. His tongue slides up your skin. You try your best not to shake. You try your best to pretend it doesn’t leave butterflies in your stomach.

“Just a tiny bite,” he whispers playfully. “No,” you attempt to say sternly, only for it to come out as a tremble. “Just one,” he says as he kisses your skin once more. “No, Kas,” you reply. This time with more confidence to your voice. He pulls away at the sudden display of strength. His confused eyes upon you as you stare him down. “I said ‘no,’” you repeat calmly. His eyes rake over your face. A small glint of a smirk upon the right side of his mouth. “Yes, darlin’,” he says without missing a beat. “As you wish.”

Kas lets go of you, taking a step back. With his arms ripped from you, you catch your body reaching back out to him. A clear disconnect with your mind. “Okay,” you mutter with a shaky breath as you brush off your clothes. Brushing him off. “Are we ready to go now?” you ask, with an annoyed tone. “Yup,” he says playfully as he walks past you to the front door. He holds it open for you with a huge smile across his face. “Time to get me some breakfast.”

“What?” you ask incredulously. Kas laughs as he waves for you to walk through the threshold. “If you’re not going to give it up, then I’m going to have to find breakfast elsewhere,” he shares. “Not like I can find Henderson on an empty stomach, common now.” Those shudders began again. Finally, your body remembers the danger before it.

“Don’t be jealous, little bird,” he softly says as he walks towards you. His fingers deep into your hair as his palm caresses your cheek. “You’ll be begging for me to bite you sooner or later,” he whispers. His hand quickly travels from the side of your head and squeezes your cheeks at your chin. He plants a rather bland kiss against your cheek, yelling “mwuah” as he floats back towards the door.

You stand in shock. You hate each reminder thrown your way that Eddie is gone. Every time you look at the hollowed being before you and recognize that the chocolate eyes looking back at your are dead. You missed Eddie. You missed him more than anything in your life. He was everything to you. But now he’s gone. And you don’t even have the luxury of having that being consistent. No, you just have a demon inhabiting his body - reminding you each day that the happiness you once had will never return. “Let’s go, princess,” Kas whines. “I’m hungry.” You follow his lead through the doorway.

Kas waltzes ahead, his movements ethereal. His excitement spreads in each of his steps. His curly hair bouncing as he skips over the blackened veins. He points to each as he walks over them. You note how cautious he is. How careful he is that you do not step on these disgusting vines. Tempting, maybe a way out. Something to distract with. But his smile… shit, his smile keeps drawing your attention. How could it have gotten cuter? The pointed canines act as a cherry on the cake. You shake your head, pushing the thought away.

“Darlin’,” he starts as he points over to the right. You follow him in confusion. Your eyes widen in horror as you see a trench glowing bright orange. It’s depth unfathomable. It rests on your old park playground. You watch in horror as half of the monkey bars are melted off. The seasaw no longer in its place. You would imagine it would be deep in the heat by now. Another memory destroyed before your very eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Kas asks as his face comes into view. His brows pull together, almost as though he is concerned. It’s confusing to say the least. “Why did you show me this?” you ask, on the verge of tears. “Isn’t it cool?” he asks. His excitement pulling his attention. “It looks like it goes all the way to the earth’s core.” His eyes grow wide as he walks closer to the ripped ground. “There’s gotta be lava and shit. I can feel the heat from here,” he whispers as he puts his hands out to warm them up.

“Reminds me of Mr. Burnham’s class,” he says with a chuckle. His words catch your attention as you hold your breath. “He always said there’d be a layer of fire underneath our feet,” he mutters. One side of his smile pulls, as he turns back to you. “I always used to get so high before his class,” he chuckles out. “Made science way more interesting.” You watch him, careful in your next few words. The back and forth between remembering and not is difficult to follow, let alone a minefield seeing as he continues to become upset by it.

“I used to have a science teacher named Mr. Burnham too,” you say softly as you walk up beside him. His mouth returns to flat line with brows pulled together as he processes your words. You decide to peer over the ledge, instinctually grabbing his hand. You feel his eyes on you like daggers as you pull away, raising your hands defensively. Slowly, the smile re-emerges. A weight lifts off your chest. “Must be a common name,” he whispers back with a sigh.

Kas grabs hold of your wrist, running you over across the desolate street. Only a few vines to skip over this time. You see flecks in the dense air. Your mind worries if you should be breathing this in. However, that should probably be the last thing on your mind. Before you knew it, you were in front of the classic Alberta’s diner. A ‘50’s diner where most of your popular schoolmates went. The new arcade was more your style.

However, you could barely recognize it. It’s clean, chipper walls now black, green, and white. The vines entangled it from head to toe. Mold seeping out from each one of Vecna’s veins. You watch as the black roots pour over the high top tables. How they flow into the kitchen, holding the doors permanently open. You wouldn’t dare take a step forward. Not a clear path in site.

“You coming,” Kas says, hoping over a vine and holding his hand out to you. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” You swallow as you slowly place your foot on the other end of the blackened death root. His bottom lip pouts looking at his hand still held out. You are too focused on not stepping on them that you didn’t happen to notice. You begin to sweat, I really cautious in where your foot lands, what your shin may brush against. The pressure building your chest burns with anxiety. Something you could have looked to Eddie for help with. Not anymore.

Kas carefully guides you back to the kitchen. Oddly, the stove and surrounding has been cleared of the darkness. It stands out amongst all the black. A perfectly cleaned stove top. Conveniently unusual. He watches your confused expression as you try to make sense of the scene before you. “I cleared it out,” he laughs. “Man’s gotta eat,” he says as he pats his stomach. He then grabs a bag of some mixture and shakes it your way. “Pancakes. Did you want some?” he asks innocently.

“You eat pancakes?” you ask in disbelief. Kas smiles, his sharpened teeth poking out just below his upper lip. “Hell yeah,” he answers with a bit of a chuckle. "Love 'em." He begins to pour the mixture into a bowl. He digs into his pocket and pulls out two eggs. He smiles once more, then kisses one of the eggs as he laughs your way. "If you eat pancakes, why were you trying to drink my blood?" you ask with hands to your hips. You cannot, will not forget the fear you felt this morning. The fear he made you feel from the face of a man whom you loved before. Unforgivable.

Kas laughs once more as he begins to mix the bowl. "Have you ever heard of a joke?" he says carelessly. His smile can only take him so far. You feel your heart sink as you try your best to keep your bottom lip from trembling. Instead, you fall against the kitchen wall. You grab hold of the side of a table as your head drops forward in dismay. "You alright?" he says with concern as he places the mixing bowl down. You nod with tears in your eyes. Thankful that your hair is covering your face.

"I'm alright," you whisper in response. Kas' brows pull together in distrust. However, he returns to mixing the bowl nonetheless. He pours them over the heated stove. "These first two are for you, darlin'," he says under his breath. You turn to look at him. Suddenly, a pain in your stomach at the smell of the cakes cooking. He turns behind him to open a cabinet and grab chocolate chips. He places his hand within the bag, only retrieving a handful before gently dropping them onto the pancakes.

He flips the little cakes as you stand, glaring at the floor. "I'm sorry," he says softly. His eyes still on the stove, not daring to move. You turn to him, unsure if you heard his words correctly. "When I saw you, I didn't know what to think. I just wanted you, all of you," he continues. "You were the first real person I have ever seen. You were - are beautiful. The most beautiful thing I have ever seen." Your eyes raise towards him. The sweet face returns. Those innocent, brown, chocolate eyes that you loved so much. The brunette curls that round his perfect face. You remembered him - your Eddie, your beautiful Eddie, in that moment. Maybe he wasn't gone. Maybe there was hope.

You let out a soft breath as your mind continues to reel. "Kas," you call out. Kas' eyes flick towards you. You take a slow step forward as your hand trails against the counter beside the stove. Finally, your eyes reach his. Your heart skips a beat, as you convince yourself that Eddie is here. That the man before you is Eddie. Your hand slowly raises to his cheek. The sensation clearly unfamiliar to him as he initially pulls from your palm but slowly leans into it.

"You don't know how good you were," you whisper as your thumb gently rubs against his cheek. His confusion rests within the furrow of his brows. "You were gentle, beautiful, kind, extraordinary," you say as you stare deep into his eyes. "I loved you before I even knew your name." You let out another breath as you bite your lip. Slowly, you lean into him, landing your lips against his perfect mouth.

Your eyes close as you feel the softest lips, the lips you have known so well. His hands reach your waist, pulling you closer. They quickly explore your back, digging into the skin of your shoulder blades. Before you knew it, your arms were around his neck - refusing to let him go from this kiss. A kiss you never intend to end. A kiss you would not dare stop because, fuck, you do not want to lose him again. A kiss so familiar, yet so different. It may be Eddie, but this being before you is also Kas. A confusing jumble of the two.

Kas presses his tongue against your lips. You part your lips as you pull him further in. You cannot help the moan that leaves your body as he grips deeper against your body. The fire between you two burning deep, no matter the fact that you have both just met. An underlying fact beneath the pain, fear, and turmoil you have endured since finding stepping into the hollowed shell of your hometown.

He quickly drops his hands past your ass and against the backs of your thighs. With a swift movement, he pulls your legs up and places you harshly against the counter. His hands flood into your hair as you bite into his kiss. His own teeth biting against your lip, leaving subtle hints of blood and enjoyable pain within the embrace. You moan once more, leading to him growling against your mouth. In this moment, you would give him anything - everything. Just to have a single moment with Eddie Munson again.

What you did not intend was jus that. Kas wanted everything, and he would not settle for anything less.

note: ruh-row. what's going to happen next...

next part • return of the boy •

taglist: @babeyglo, @dotslabyrinth, @wheaty-melon, @mattymurdocksbitch, @sammararaven, @onlyfengs22, @perle1990, @ms1oftheboys, @ghosttownwherenoonegoes, @tayhar811, @bbyhargrove, @hiscrimsonangel

comment on any series posts or message to be added to the taglist! 🫢♥️

• nav • no-no plagiarism • series • requests open •

[daegon2366]

Mika falls. Trailing fire and black smoke and blood, wings -wing- wing!- the other one flying past Michael’s face- flapping, frozen in a silent scream-  down- down- down-

Michael folds his wings. Dives. Applies full thrust- the metal of his jet pack creaking. A red triangle blinks in the corner of his goggles as the G-force ticks up, and the altitude counter ticks down. 

500m above ground. Warning! Collision imminent! 

He falls through the Formula 2  layer of the race track narrowly missed by the younger drivers- a startled shout- and one with hummingbird wings darts out of the way-

300m above ground-

He can see the emergency services now. White dots scattered over grey background- sirens wailing through the air. And still Mika falls in front of him. Michael curses. Pushes the throttle just a little harder. Just a little more-

200m above ground. 

Most racers bail at 350 meters. The last “safe” altitude. Any lower and theres no guarantee the emergency brakes can stop you in time. 

The ground rushes up- a patchwork of green and concrete. He sees the stretchers- the medics, faces grim, readying for impact. 

150m. 

Structural failure! Warning! Warning! Pieces of his jet pack are beginning to fall away, thunderous thumping sounds- each detachment bumping him in the air. One massive shard- a piece of the main engine cowl- smashes into his shoulder. Lodges deep. Deep, into his biceps muscle. He screams- can’t hear it over the roar of the wind in his ears- his vision blurring. The G-force feels like having an elephant sitting on his chest, the edges of his vision darkening

120m. 

It’s all Michael can do to keep his wings held against his sides- prevent the G-force from ripping those off him too. His HUD blinks frantically- critical system errors filling his vision, washing the world into crimson. And yet Mika is- still out of reach. He increases the thrust. 

100m. 

The smell of burning circuitry and flesh fills his nostrils. A large chunk of the jet pack tears free- with enough force to send him spiralling, spinning like a drill as his wings, without the harness to hold them- catch the wind. Mika’s eyes are closed. His head is bowed. He looks almost serene- and Michael knows he’s praying. Hold on, Mika. Hold on-

90m. 

He manages to stabilise his spin. He yells into his radio. Nothing. Static. The red triangle in his goggles flashes a final warning- no more margin for error. He must do or die. He reaches  for Mika- 

70m

 His fingers brush the leather of the Finn’s jet pack harness. He clamps down. Pulls Mika against his chest, the combined weight dragging them both down. 

60m

The reverse thrusters flair to life. A burst of force that doesn’t slow them at all. 

50m 

Another shudder. Another piece of the jet pack- part of the thrust reverser-breaks away- thudding against Michael’s helmet, he blinks away stars. He grits his teeth. The ground is almost on them. 

40m. 

The jet pack fails entirely- Michael flares his wings. 

30m. 

He folds them around Mika. 

20m. 

The medics are poised. 

10m. 

Michael flips them over so he cushions the semi-conscious (at best) Mika. 

Impact. 

They slid across the ground, bouncing along the grass and tarmac- probably stripping all the skin off Michael’s back in the process, until, finally, they stop. Against a massive oak tree, pain radiating up and down Michael’s spine- and his legs- all consuming, head splitting- he wants to scream but can’t draw breath-

Mika inhales in his arms.

 Relief floods Michael’s chest. The paramedics rush in, the air filling with shouting voices he can barely comprehend. Someone tries to pry Mika off him. Michael’s arms reflexively tighten- but the arms are stronger- and Mika’s wrenched from his grasp. “No.” He wheezes. “No.” He starts to struggle. “Mika-“ 

The paramedics surround Mika. One of them puts an ear to his chest. Shakes his head. Begins pounding on his rib cage, in the center of Mika’s chest. Mika’s still chest. 

A hand turns Michael’s head. A jab in his neck. Something cold floods his veins. His struggles weaken. His limbs are heavy. 

“No.” He whispers again. The last thing he sees is the paramedic breathing into Mika’s mouth, tilting Mika’s head back.

[honeyglz]

Take it to the grave.

AN - Since some ppl wanted a part 2 here yall go :D I may make this a series if I have enough time in the future but lmk what yall think. This is following the events from my other fic "Tell me a secret" and warning this got way darker then I thought it would so please look at the warnings!

Pairing - Background Bakugou x reader P1- "Tell me a secret"

P3 Confession

Warnings/TW - Violence, obsessive behavior mentioned/shown, !! KIDNAPPING (Body snatching?) !! Gore/death description, Nearly a forced kiss somewhere in there, fake death???? As well as general angsty emotions . Please do let me know if I missed any !

Category- Angst (mainly at least)

-♡-

Bakugou's pov-

It had been a week since that phone call. A week since he heard you take your dying breath and could do nothing. An entire week where your dying words echoed through his dreams, tormenting his waking thoughts until he couldn't bear the 'what ifs' anymore.

"Would you have said yes, Katsuki-?"

He woke up with a jolt, covered head to toe in sweat. Her voice still looming in his mind. He threw his covers off in a haze steadying his heart beat as he wiped the drying sweat from his face. The sun had yet to rise and the chill of the early morning nipped at his skin, the fog rolling of the city streets still crisp. He rolled out of bed as he swallowed the flurry of thoughts down. A good run would help him clear his mind, right?

Y/N's Pov-

-.... Location : unknown-

It was dark, dreadfully so, were her eyes covered? The air was damp around her. Pain drenched her muscles as she tried to move, to no avail of course. A thick scent covered the room as a small humm echoed off the walls. Her body felt heavy as she again tried to move. Cool metal chains dug into her wounds as she hissed at the feeling.

"Tsk tsk, I thought you knew better then that" a voice called out teasing her pathetic attempt at fleeing.

She grit her teeth as tried once more only for a sharp pain to stab at her side. Her mouth shot open as she shrieked, only fuelling the howl of sadistic laughter that mocked her further. The gloved figure ran their finger over her face brushing the lose hair from her jaw, sighing contently causing her to freeze in shock. The gloved hand then reached for her chin bringing her face what she assumed was their's. Their breath fanned her lips, her throat tightened as her lips curled into a snarl, ripping her face from their grip. Another sharp pain. The pain erupted from her side as she grunted at the sudden shock. Roughly, her head was turned once more, forcing her to look at them. Their fingers digging in impossibly rough, sure to leave bruises in their wake as they stared down faux disappointment lacing their tongue. "Don't do that to me you dove-" The voice scolded as their grip tightened, fingers dancing along the edge of the knife in her side as they twisted back and forth, blood dripping from the silver blade as screams rang out. Their faced broke into a wide grin as they stared down at the hero below them, tears staining the blindfold.

They cooed down at her as she struggled against the restrains once again, agony shooting up her spine as she tried biting back her screams only for their hand to grip her chin once again forcing the knife deeper while doing so. They chuckled down at her smearing her blood across her face in some cruel attempt to shame her further. "Look at yourself dove~! What would the world think of you now?" Her shook her head, tears steaming as she tried to shake off their words. "The big strong H/N. Crying because of a little stab wound" They slashes her legs causing her to bite down once again much to their amusement. The sound of a door opening caused the voice to grunt, the sound of the knife dropping catching what remained of her attention. The voice was talking to someone. Clearly annoyed as they argued, not that she could make it out. Her heart was pounding in her head, blood still dripping as she allowed thoughts merged together. She closed her eyes and imagined her life differently. A life where she had asked Bakugou out that day. Where he said yes and they both went somewhere nice. He'd hold the door open for you and growl when she'd snickered. Where they both would talk the night away, about their plans and whatever came to mind. Maybe even go on a second date, hell even a third. A life where she didnt have to make that call. Time had passed like seconds, now alone her body gave out, allowing her some rest as she drifted back to the life she had wished she had. ....

Ring

...

Ring

..

Ring

. "Who is this?" "We have her." "How the fuck did you get this number-" "H/N. We have her." "Who are you." "You'll find out soon enough. Time we get to know each other again, what do you say Kacchan?"

-♡- A/N YEA THATS RIGHT PART 2 UP IN A DAY WHO AM I ???? ANYWAYS hope you all enjoyed as usual!! You liked my work feel free to check out my blog ! (Well I only have 2 other posts but U get the gist.) Prt 3 soon!!

Again I forgot to tag hold on.

[leggerefiore]

▲Ingo Growing Into A Yandere After Returning From Hisui▼

that emmet post... but reversed ooo

cw: yandere, unhealthy relationships,

● When Ingo returned from Hisui, he was a changed man. It was clear to see, from his physical form to his mannerisms. Previously untouched skin literally with scars and calluses, thinner frame filled out more with harsh muscles, and his eyes held a distance much unlike the older twin previous. His emotions had always been best expressed in those seas of mercury, but now there lied an emptiness that screamed to be filled.

● You about cried when your boyfriend – fiance, rather – finally was returned to you. Which turned into complete sobbing when he pushed you away with a look that told you that he didn't know you. Emmet watched in confusion and terror as his brother acted horrified by his younger twin. Moving to send out a pokemon to attack him. The Gliscor's claws scratched his skin, tearing his white coat and staining it red. The twin joined you in tears as Ingo stood petrified by the sudden wound. You and Emmet both knew something was very wrong with Ingo.

● Somehow, you and Emmet managed to convince him to let you take him to a hospital. He was separated from you before Emmet was, too, whisked away to have his injury bandaged. The younger twin apologised to you and promised that he would be back as soon as it was over. In your moments alone, you deeply debated how Ingo could forget Emmet of all people. Whatever happened to him must have been something serious.

● When Emmet doesn't return after thirty minutes, a nurse approaches you. “Are you…” he says your name, “Mr. Ingo is asking for you.” You nod your head, and she leads you to his room. An IV runs into his arm while he looks uncomfortable in a hospital gown. It's not you realise just how different he appears. Hair longer than he would have deemed alright, a goatee that was less taken care of than the one Emmet sprouted, and he just overall seemed more rugged than the soft, caring Ingo you recalled. His silver eyes stared at you, and a hand reached out to you.

● You took it softly and stared at Ingo. His hand tightened around you. A rumble came from his throat in the form of your name. He closed his eyes. “I barely remember anything… Tell Emmet, I am deeply sorry. I missed you both. I couldn't recall, but I missed you both endlessly…” his voice was a bit strained. You pressed a kiss to the hand that held yours. His eyes gaze was curious upon the ring on your finger before he smiled. “I… remember that. Thank you, my dear,” his eyes grew misty. You didn't know what happened to him, but you would remain at his side for all time.

● You stayed with him for the rest of visiting hours. They had wanted to keep him overnight for observation to make sure there wasn't anything they missed, which you and Emmet accepted. The younger twin had joined you in hanging out with Ingo after he managed to escape his wound treatment. He didn't seem too happy about the stitches, but neither did Ingo. Endless apologies babbled from his lips, but Emmet shook his head. He forgave Ingo, so long as he didn't disappear again. The older twin became distressed when both of you got up to leave. Even after explaining that you had to go, he asked one of you to stay. When both of you restated that he couldn't, he tried to rip the IV from his arm to join you. Emmet rushed to stop his brother while you called for a nurse. Ingo was insistent, one of you stayed, or he leaves with you. Emmet being his authority in his medical decisions due to the diagnosed amnesia, hesitantly agreed to have him sedated. Ingo was petrified by this all, with heavy tears in his eyes.

● Naturally, the night was restless and filled with worry. Emmet had gone back to his apartment, leaving you alone in your previously shared one with Ingo. You got together some clothing for him and hoped they would still fit him. The doctors deemed him fit to leave when you returned to pick him up the next morning. Ingo glared at you both as you entered his room. “I know what I'll to do to you next time you're upset, Emmet,” he hissed, but took the clothing from you gratefully. His hand lingered over yours for a long time. Emmet smiled sheepishly, “I am sorry; I wanted to make to be 100% certain that nothing was wrong with you.” Ingo sighed and shook his head. He understood Emmet's concern, he just didn't appreciate the methods taken.

● Ingo's return home was a pleasant one. Before having Emmet walk him in, you let each of his pokemon out to greet him. Tears were heavy in his eyes as he entered the apartment. Chandelure swung hypnotisingly and sang a cheerful, excited melody. Excadrill and Crustle clang to his legs, while his Garbodor attempted to merge him into their body. Klinklang ground its gear in joy, while Haxorus let out a tearful cry. Ingo gazed at them for a few moments before trying to showing them all in his love and affection. The afternoon was spent reintroducing him to things around the apartment. When the time came for Emmet to return to his own, Ingo became nervous. The younger twin reassured him that he would see him again after work.

● Which led to Ingo begging you to stay with him the next morning while you got ready for work yourself. You understood his fears, and after the experience at the hospital, felt a bit bad. It was in his best interest, but he still didn't deserve to feel that way. You called in. Ingo visibly relaxed. The morning was spent cooking with him while he offered cooking tips from Hisui. He had barely spoken of where the last two years of his life had been spent, but when he did, there was a strange underlying feeling to it all. It seemed terrifying.

● When he tried it again the following day, you had told him no, softly. His eyes filled with fear as he pulled you close and begged for you to stay. You still told him no. Somehow, you managed to get out of his embrace and leave the apartment. You didn't want to leave him either, but money was needed to pay the bills. The apartment they Subway Bods had chosen wasn't cheap, and you certainly couldn't survive solely on what was left in his bank account.

● The day was a long one for Ingo as he lied in a strange recollection of how things were before the portal ripped him from this world. You were his fiance, an engagement ring lying heavy on your finger, but you had also been his stay-at-home partner. When had you started working? A thought of the harsh wilds if Hisui, how pokemon could easily overpower and kill a human or how bandits could gut you just to get something nice plagued his mind. You needed to stay in this apartment. It was safe. Ingo had checked around it and deemed the location both secure and pleasant.

● He knew if he kept acting so upset you may try to leave him. Warden Ingo couldn't have that. The world was a dangerous place. What if a portal opened up and ripped you away to ancient times? Took away your memories with a head injury and left you for dead on a cold mountain. Forced you to survive in a society you know nothing about with a language you didn't understand entirely. He had two teams now. A few could stay behind at home and watch over you in his stead. Yes, all this could work. He could return everything to how it used to be, but better.

● Ingo calmed down after that, you noted. He still had a heightened level of clinginess, but that was understandable. His readjustment was going well, too. He had taken up cooking for you and did most, if not all, of the chores around the house. You heard from Emmet that he made frequent trips to the station and gazed around at places most familiar to him with a sparkle in his eyes. Elesa had even taken him around the city a few times, to help him remember locations he liked. It seemed like within the few months of his return that Ingo had almost completely re-entered his role.

● But there were still moments where he seemed desperate to keep you to himself. An outing with Elesa cancelled because Ingo had gone into a panic attack after remembering something that happened to him in Hisui. His arms grasping you to his stronger body and weeping loudly into his neck. You couldn't leave him like that, so you called it off. He had moments like that from time to time, where is memories haunted him and broke him into a shell of the man he was. Hollow, empty eyes and a quivering body. Your heart broke at the sight. Elesa understood always.

● It was soon that he returned to work at the station and the money flow of your life increased. Having help on the bills was nice, and Ingo's pay cheques covered them all, as they had done previous. You decided to keep working as to help increase some personal wealth. Well, that was your plan until Ingo called you one evening, having got off early from his panic and fear becoming too much. He wept and begged for you to come back, unable to accept that you were safe and alive unless you stood before him. You took off and rushed home to comfort Ingo. The older twin was a wreck. He pleaded for you to quit working, his heart couldn't take the stress of the unknown, and he wanted to go back to how things had been before he left.

● You agreed. Dumbly. Ingo was just in top much of a state to say no, but he held you to your word. There was no point for you to work, not when Ingo could. He would do anything for you; just please quit your job. Begrudgingly, you do. It had been fine before, and most of the reason you still worked was out of the fear that Ingo would disappear from you again. “My darling… I would never put you through such pain again,” he reassured you, hand holding yours warmly, “I am here to stay. Please allow me to take care of you, it was what I promised you with my ring.” You truly couldn't disagree, your fears were shoved away for your love for him.

● It became only more and more intense. Some of his pokemon always remained around the house, which was good for company, but they actively prevented you from leaving. His Magnezone messing your phone and computer and leaving you with no way to communicate. You tell Ingo about this that evening, but he sees no problem with it. You didn't need them, he survived two entire years without them. He would buy you another soon. You huffed at his attitude and tried to leave once again, but his Tangrowth blocked you. “Ingo. Call them back, I'm going out to see Elesa.”

● Ingo sighed. It wasn't enough. Nothing he did was enough. Warden Ingo had firmly overtaken all of Subway Boss Ingo's reservations and twisted them until they were barely themselves. It was reflective of the reality around him. His life he loved was gone, and he wasn't himself any longer. Why did he bother acting like it? You were still his precious, dear love, and he would do anything for you. It was clear you didn't want what he wanted any more, however. “Tangrowth. Use sleep powder.” You turned to stare in shock at him before the move hits you. He catches you before you fall to the ground. This was alright. He would guide you back to how you were previously. You would become his cute house spouse once again.

● You wake up bound to the headboard of your bed in horror. Ingo had, actually… You yelled his name while trying to escape. Ingo entered the room with a tray of food and a small smile. His eyes were the strange empty that had sent shivers down your spine long ago. He carefully places the food on your bedside table and began preparing everything to feed you. “Ingo, baby, this isn't funny. I know you're stressed, but you have to untie me,” you pleaded, but he shook his head. “My darling… We've both changed so much in our time apart,” his voice was low and soft, “I just want to go back to how things were…” He lifted a fork with a sauced egg and toast to your mouth. You closed it in minor rebellion. Ingo was being terrifying, you needed to get out. “I do forgive you for sleeping with my brother… I understand that with the situation that you required company, and he quite literally is identical to me,” he spoke. Your mouth opened from shock, and he forced the food in. Resistance wasn't bothered with; how had he learnt about that? Ingo hummed in contentment as you ate his food.

Ingo would fix everything. It might not be exactly as it once was, but it will be as close as he could get it.

[calpalirwin]

Pushing Limits

Summary: Bucky reminds you of who’s in charge. 

Content: female masturbation, edging, fingering, phone sex, oral sex (fem receiving), sex, choking, dom!Bucky, after care

Word Count: 2.2k

And away, and away we go!

__

You didn’t stop to think twice as you sent Bucky the small video clip of you getting yourself off. 

But you should have. 

Halfway across the world, Bucky’s phone pinged in his pocket. The smile that crossed his face at the notification from you quickly turned to a stifled groan as the audio of your soft panted moans, finger fucking yourself, and then the small cry of “Bucky,” sounded in his ears. 

Quickly he called you. “Did I say you could do that?” he asked, his tone low and sharp the second you picked up.

“Hi, Buck. Love and miss you, too. How’s the mission?”

“Did I say you could do that?” was all he repeated in a tight growl.

“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission.”

“Well, I hope you had your fun.”

“Oh…” you sighed dreamily. “I did. Still be more fun if you were here to help me out though. Your fingers are so much thicker than mine,” your voice was a teasing taunt as you dipped your hands between your thighs. “Wish you could see how wet that makes me,” you breathed into the phone’s speaker as you slowly inserted a finger in your pussy.

“Y/N,” came the warning.

“Mmm, Bucky,” you moaned, pumping your finger faster.

He let out another growl, feeling his jeans tighten. “Enjoy it, doll. Cuz that’s gonna be your last orgasm for a while.”

“Oh, shit…” you mumbled, immediately pulling your hand away, knowing he was dead serious. “Buck, I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized.

“I’ll be home tonight, and we’ll see just how sorry you are then.”

“Bucky, please! You’ve been gone two weeks!”

“Yeah. And I was really looking forward to making it up to you for being gone. I thought you were my good girl, doll… Such a shame…”

“I am!” you whined, not able to stand the disappointment in his voice. “Bucky, I’m sorry!”

“You’re only sorry because you got caught. If you hadn’t sent that video I never would’ve known, and tonight you’d be getting more orgasms than you could handle. Again… what a shame.”

“It was a present!” you tried to explain your way out of trouble. “Bucky… please.”

“I’ll see you tonight, Y/N.”

No “doll”. No “I love you”. No “can’t wait to see you”. Fuck… you really should have thought twice.

~~~

In an effort to get Bucky to believe that you genuinely were sorry and seek sympathy, you set about cleaning up the apartment, making sure his favorite meal was on standby for when he got home, and, as a last ditch effort to make him reconsider his earlier threat, changed into one of his shirts. The shirt held traces of his cologne, and was long enough to cover your ass, while being short enough to reveal how you were only in his shirt.

Then, there was nothing to do but wait, and hope that the anticipation of his homecoming would be considered punishment enough.

“Doll, I’m home,” Bucky called out, the front door clicking shut behind him, and the sound of boots and a duffle bag hitting the floor.

“In here,” you answered back from the kitchen.

You listened as his footsteps got closer, then his hands were on your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest, his lips finding a home along your neck. “Mmm, missed you, doll,” he murmured against your skin.

“Missed you too,” you said with a giggle, turning in his arms to face him, looping your own arms around his neck. “I got you your favorite if you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” was the confession. “But I have something else in mind.”

“Oh?” you asked, a smile coming to your lips as you took note of the lust swirling in his eyes. Maybe the flight home had made him rethink. Maybe the two weeks apart was overriding whatever disappointment still lingered. Maybe forgiveness had already been granted.

“Bedroom. Now.”

You didn’t dare disobey now, quickly detangling yourself from him, and heading for the bedroom.

Similarly, Bucky wasted no time following after you. Wordlessly, he guided you to the bed, your back hitting the mattress as your feet stayed planted on the floor. The action caused his shirt to ride up on you, the hem stopping tantalizing so just above your exposed pussy. “No panties, huh?” he asked, leaning down over you as one of his fingers brushed through your folds, slickness already gathering on his fingertips. “Who made you this needy, doll?” His voice was sickly sweet as he popped the finger in his mouth, tasting you.

“You, Bucky,” you answered, already breathless.

He hummed his approval at your response as he sank to his knees in front of you. His hands gripped into your thighs, spreading apart your legs for him, your pussy lips parting slightly, but still clinging together with small threads of your wetness. “Spread yourself for me, doll,” he commanded in a low tone.

You brought down your hands to hold your pussy open for him, a shudder going through your body as his tongue swiped across your core. “Bucky,” you moaned softly, arching your hips to meet his mouth.

His hands tightened on your thighs, pining you into place as his tongue skillfully worked you over. The scratch of his beard when he moved, and each flick of his tongue was enough to drive you mad after the two weeks apart. And when his lips wrapped around your clit and two of his fingers teased at your entrance, you were ready to come undone for him. “Fuck! Bucky! Mmmm!” you called out, hips rising to follow the movements of his mouth.

“You gonna cum for me, doll?” his voice sent vibrations throughout your body.

“Mhm! Yes! Please, please, PL-!”

In a swift motion, his fingers and mouth pulled away.

“Bucky…” you wanted to cry as you were left empty and unfulfilled.

He laughed darkly as he rose to his feet, leaning his body over yours to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “You didn’t think I forgot, did you?” he cooed in your ear.

“That was mean,” you told him pitifully.

“Aw, poor baby. I’m sorry. Want me to make it up to you?”

Not sure if he was mocking you or not, you only nodded.

He joined you on the bed, sitting up against the headboard, and spreading his legs. “Come sit with me,” he said, patting the empty space for you to fit in his lap. His voice was soft, and inviting, and you willed yourself to believe that the worst was over as you shifted to sit with him, your back pressed to his chest. “You okay?” he asked, his fingers tracing lightly over your throat.

You wanted to say no. That your pussy ached for him and your denied orgasm. But instead, you nuzzled your nose against the underside of his jaw, before stamping it with soft kisses. “Mhm,” you murmured.

“Good.” His hand trailed from your throat to your stomach. Your breath hitched as his fingertips ghosted across your clit. “No,” came the stern demand as his other hand pressed your hips back down when you started to lift them.

“Please?” you breathed, digging your hands into his thighs, your eyes fluttering shut. “Please?”

“Please what?” he asked, his finger teasing your entrance once again.

“Please make me cum.”

“You wanna cum for me?” His finger slowly pumped in and out of your pussy, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

“Mhm.” You tried your best to keep still for him. “Please, Bucky? Wanna cum for you.”

“Yeah?” He slid in a second finger. “You wanna cum all over my hand like a good girl?”

“Yes!” you cried out eagerly as his fingers started to fuck into you at a unrelenting pace. “Yes! Bucky! Ooooohhhh, please! Please, Bucky, I’m so close!”

He felt the quiver go through your legs, and when your mouth dropped open, a long moan ripping out of your throat, he pulled his hand away, slapping harshly at your clit. “Only good girls get to cum, and you’re not a good girl.”

Your eyes snapped open, a sob stuck in your throat. “Bucky,” you whimpered, twisting in his lap to look up at him. “Please, I’ll be good. I’m sorry. I was trying to do something nice for you. I didn’t mean to make you mad. Please, Bucky, I wanna be your good girl again.”

He mulled your words over, as he looked you over. Your hair was a wild mess from thrashing against him. Your eyes glistened with the unshed tears that came from two denied orgasms, and your own hurt that he was still disappointed and mad. And every so often the muscles in your legs twitched with how sensitive the rest of your body was growing. You were absolutely ruined by him and he still hadn’t even let you cum yet. An orgasm would split you wide open at this point. Could your body handle it?

He became aware of his own body at that point, his cock throbbing against the constraints of his jeans which were now uncomfortably tight around him. Shit… could he handle it?

“Bucky?” you asked in a small voice, drawing him out of his thoughts, your fingers playing with the dog tags around his neck.

“Hmm?”

“Please? We can both cum.”

“Oh, we can, can we?”

“Mhm,” you said, moving to straddle his lap more properly, rubbing your bare core against his jeans. “We can cum for each other, Bucky,” you elaborated, slowly rocking your hips, his dog tags clenched tightly in your fist.

His hand wrapped around your throat, “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you? You like to cum all over my cock while I fuck you senseless?”

“Yes, please,” you gasped, rocking your hips more.

A giggle left your lips as he knocked you onto your back, his hands quickly freeing him from his jeans. “Who do you cum for, doll?” he asked, swiping his cock through your folds to coat himself.

“You, Bucky.”

“Does that mean you get to cum without my permission?” He pushed his cock into you.

“N-No, Bucky,” you gasped at the stretch.

“So next time you wanna cum and I’m not home, you’ll ask me, right?” His hands dug into your thighs, as his hips snapped into you.

“Y-Yes, Bucky.”

“And what were you thinking about when you were getting yourself off earlier, hmm? What thoughts could possibly be filling that pretty head of yours to make you that needy?” The slow pace would almost be torturous if it wasn’t for the force of each of his thrusts driving his cock deep into you.

“You, Bucky!” Your voice was high, and if he kept asking you questions, you weren’t sure how many more answers would be coherent. You felt your eyes flutter shut, your mouth falling open.

“Cuz who’s the one who makes you feel this good?”

You worked your throat to answer him, but all that same out was a low moan of pleasure.

“Look at me,” he instructed, his hand wrapping around your throat again. “I asked you a question.”

“Y-you,” you forced out, opening your eyes to look up at him.

“That’s right,” he grinned proudly, picking up speed. “Cuz you’re my good girl, right?”

“Your good girl,” you moaned out with your own smile. “Bucky’s doll.”

“Ffffuuuucccckk,” he groaned, throwing his head back as your pussy clenched tightly around him. “You take me so well, doll. Such a good girl for me.”

Whimpered moans fell freely from your lips at his praise, as you felt your orgasm building, and you hoped he’d let you have this one. “Gonna cum,” you told him.

“Yeah?” His pace grew as relentless as his fingers had been, driving you closer and closer to the edge. “You gonna cum all over my cock?” His hand dropped from your throat to rub fast circles at your clit.

“Really want to. Please? I’ve been so good, Bucky. Please?” you begged, needing permission before you exploded.

“Cum for me, doll,” he finally said, and you shattered around him with a scream. “Fuck!” he yelled out with you, his own release spilling. “Fuck,” he chuckled, his chest heaving. “Oh, fuck.”

You grabbed his dog tags, tugging him down towards you for a kiss. “Never say I’m not a good girl, again.”

“Aw,” he chuckled again, pulling his cock out of you, and peppering your face in soft kisses. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

“Yes. And your punishment was really mean.”

“Mmm, but consider how hot it was for me to watch you come undone.”

“You can make me come undone without making me cry, Bucky.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. How about,” he started to suggest, kissing a path down your body, “I give you back those two orgasms I stole?”

You shivered, your hands bunching up in his hair and tugging sharply. “I don’t think I can handle anything more right now, Bucky. Rain check?”

“Rain check,” he agreed with a nod, becoming aware of his own exhaustion. “Think you can stand for a shower, or should I run us a bath?”

“Bath, please. My legs feel like jell-o.”

“Okay,” he said with a last chuckle, and a last kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’m glad you’re home, Buck.”

“Me too, doll. Me too.”

__

Tag List

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[moririki]

⤷ A BLOODSTAINED CONFESSION

RENGOKU KYOJURO X READER -> 3.6K
you patch up your fellow hashira after the hardest fight of your lives

REQUEST -> ✰
CONTAINS -> MUGEN TRAIN SPOILERS like before the cut and everything, mentions of blood + gore, so kinda angsty but definitely a fluffy ass ending, reader is a hashira but it's left ambiguous as to what element you are👍, i watched the movie two months ago so my recollection of dialogue and plot may be *slightly* off, near-death experience, idk how to write combat so i just... didn’t, reader lowkey thirsts over rengoku's back muscles and shit because why tf not, idk how injuries work aaaa
MORI'S THOUGHTS -> rengoku my beloved,,, he deserves the world,, i think i should have made this less angsty im SORRY (i rlly heard "extra fluffy" and it just went 👩🏻➡️ straight through my head huh) also i bet you guys missed me and my late-ass posting <3 but here i am!! for now!! yeahhhh!! i feel like the writing in this got a little repetitive so i apologise for that

APPARENTLY, THE DESTRUCTION OF AN ENTIRE TRAIN wasn't enough to end this mission. even with one lower six demon defeated, another much stronger one had replaced it. the arrival of akaza was a significant turning point in the battle, and one that you cursed yourself for missing.

you should have known that this mission would he more dangerous than expected when both you and rengoku had been deployed to the train, alongside three rookies. you should have known better than to let rengoku convince you to stay back and help evacuate rather than let him handle it alone.

he had been so full of confidence- squeezing your hand firmly before rushing off, leaving you feeling slightly lightheaded from the brief contact of his warm palm. you should have wished him luck, told him to be careful, anything, but he was gone before you had the chance.

you made quick work of evacuating the passengers of the derailed train, making sure that they were all confirmed to be outside of the carriages before entrusting their safety to zenitsu and nezuko. it was around when you had carried out the last passenger that you felt the ground rumble beneath your feet, coming from the other side of the embankment that you were currently placed at. 

before you gave yourself time to really think things through, you were shouting instructions to the pair of demon slayers and dashing off towards the source of the noise, hand readily placed on your sword. that was the direction that rengoku ran is all that went through your mind.

the scene that you found yourself facing did little to quell your fears. you reached two bodies first, recognising them as the hapless figures of inosuke and tanjiro. from a glance you could see the extent of their injuries, with the latter laying on the ground barely conscious. the boar-headed one could only stare at the fight happening several metres away, his shoulders slumped in defeat and swords hanging by his sides.

“there’s no opening,” he only whispered, barely audible. that much was true. even you had difficulty keeping up with the movements of rengoku and the demon that he was fighting. the fact that it had already been several minutes and that there was no clear advantage concerned you, and you unsheathed your sword.

“you two stay put, and learn what it means to be a hashira, alright?” you tried offering a brilliant smile, much like you had seen the flame hashira do so many times, but you hoped that yours didn't fall flat. from the slight relief shown on tanjiro’s worn face, though, you took that as a good sign.

without wasting another second, you rushed towards rengoku and the demon, assessing their movements. inosuke wasn’t joking when he said there wasn’t any opening, their movements equally matched. you took the chance and struck when rengoku managed to get the demon to stumble back. bringing your sword down in a vertical strike, you severed one of its arms, before taking a cursory glance back at rengoku to make sure that he was alright.

your wound did little to hinder the demon, as it simply chuckled before regrowing its limb.

“oh? another hashira? don’t tell me you think that this is a fair match,” the demon sneered as you held your sword in front of you, still nervously eyeing the blood that was beginning to drip at rengoku’s feet. it amazed you as to how he was still standing, let alone also ready to keep fighting, but you weren’t going to stop him with that amount of determination in his eyes.

“i wouldn’t say that you appearing after we had to fight an entire train was fair either, but here we are,” you glared at the demon, adjusting the grip on your sword.

“think you can hold on a little longer?” you asked rengoku, still facing the demon.

“always.” you could picture the steadfast smile on his face, lending you his strength whenever you needed it. you took a deep breath, starting your total concentration breathing and launching off of your foot, propelling yourself forwards.

you heard rengoku's footsteps right behind you, dependable as ever. when you swung your sword and sliced through, you knew that the flame hashira was there to follow through with a co-ordinated attack.

despite your best efforts, the upper six demon lived up to its status and provided to be more than a challenge for even both you and rengoku fighting him simultaneously. in fact, akaza had even managed to gain the upper hand a few times, leaving you with a cracked rib that was making it more difficult to focus and control your breathing.

but you and rengoku's big break arrived in the form of a rising sun that leeched itself into your surroundings. the glow was nothing but welcomed by you, though your demon opponent let fear flicker across its face for the first time this night as it turned foot and fled. the invisible adrenaline-fuelled strings that held you up snapped, and you felt the strength from your body sap, too spent to gove chase to akaza.

the bitter taste of defeat crushed you, numbing your senses as you barely heard the cries of tanjiro as he yelled at the retreating figure of akaza. you turned to your fellow yashira, eyes widening and senses returning as you took in the way he had slumped to the floor, head bowed as he kneeled.

"no, don't you dare," you mumbled, dropping to your knees too in front of him. panic gave your limbs a new purpose as your hands stretched out in front of you, seeking out the warmth rengoku still emitted even when mortally wounded.

the most pressing matter was the dark stain of blood that gave his uniform an unnatural sheen that was still spreading. you pressed a hand to the source of it, a large gash across his stomach that was much too deep for your liking. your other hand came to rest on his face, tilting his head up to look at you for any sort of good sign to cling onto.

"you better stay alive!" your voice was shrill, harsher than you wanted it to be, but those were factors you could hardly control more than the blood oozing from rengoku's stomach. you could see how unfocused his eyes were, and how heavy his head was when only being propped up by the waning strength in your hand. your own injuries had been forgotten, cast aside in favour for you to fear for the flame hashira's life.

and still, despite everything, the man still smiled. the blood covering half his face did little to mar its radiance. rengoku raised a shaking, bloody hand of his own, letting it fall heavy against your own as you felt your hold begin to slip.

"you're hurt too, you know." his words were more of a shaky exhale, though you heard it all the same. you felt a smile slip onto yours too as rengoku proved to still be so vigilant in the wellbeing of others.

"you don't need to remind me, shut up and save your energy," you whispered back. you didn't trust yourself to speak any louder in fear of your voice cracking.

"but.. i have to tell you something." the insistence in his eyes was back, burning into you so mich that you couldn't help but lean closer, trying to ease his burden of being audible.

"quit talking like you're dying." you were practically whispering into his ear, close enough to feel the rasp of his breath as he laughed, holding your hand tighter. his other hand came up to your own face, rough thumb brushing against the skin underneath your eye, wiping away a tear you never realised had tracked its way there.

"let me bandage you up." your voice may not have shook, but your hands definitely did as you disentangled them from rengoku's hold, urging him to put pressure on his wound while your fingers found purchase on the hem of your uniform and ripped off a strip of it. it was barely enough to cover his injury but you managed to wrap the severed cloth around his middle a few times, tying it tight and hoping that it was enough to stop the bleeding.

"just.. stay with me until backup comes, alright? you've got tell me something once we get out of here, remember?" rengoku nodded into your palm, smiling at your words as his eyelids fluttered shut. but you were close enough to still feel that he was warm, to feel the slight rise and fall of his chest as he managed to still breathe, and that gave you some comfort.

minutes felt like hours when you had to talk to fill the gap. whether it was to give rengoku something that tethered him to this mortal realm, or a way for you to distract yourself from your own pain, you onew that you would both have to tough it out a little longer, just until the others arrived.

"you know, i've always admired you." you were surprised at both his words and how clear rengoku's voice sounded. your grip on his hand tightened a little, and you leaned towards him so that your forehead pressed against his.

"this is hardly the time to say something like that, kyojuro." you tried not to laugh, the pain of your ribs starting to edge back in as the adrenaline left your body as the sun soaked your bodies.

"i just wanted you to know." you would have responded to the man if it weren't for the shouts that became all too clear. help was here, and everything was going to be okay now.

you didn't want to let rengoku out of your sight, but many insistent hands prised his body from your grip, and with barely the strength to speak there was little that you could do about it except succumb to the pain of your wounds and finally fall unconscious.

recovery was never an aspect of fighting that you looked forward to. when you finally came to, there were a few gripping moments of panic when you asked a nurse if rengoku was here, if he was alive. you had been assured that he was before the pain and medication kicked in again for a fitful sleep as your body healed.

but no matter how you were pressed back into bed, into the constraints of sleep, you never really felt like you were at rest. your mind was still racing to places your body couldn't as it pieced together the events just before you got hospitalised.

when you could finally get up without keeling over, you were stumboing your way through the hallways as stealthily as possible, leaning on walls for support and peering into rooms as you walked past, in search of your fellow hashira. your cards of luck had lined up when you stumbled upon his sleeping figure less than three rooms down from yours.

he looked a lot cleaner, still donning a serene smile even when unconscious and you felt the panic gripping your body loosen its hold. the throb of your most likely broken ribs was enough of an edge to keep you awake, and you made your way over to rengoku's bedside.

there was a convenient chair placed next to him, and you tried not to grunt in pain as you sat down in it. rengoku didn't even stir at your approach, and you resigned yourself to sitting there, studying his figure and resisting the urge to check whether he was actually breathing or not. if you focused enough, you saw the subtlest rise and fall of his chest, just enough to qualm your fears.

your concentration was broken as you heard the sliding door open again, and the hesitant voice of a nurse breaking your intense silence.

"ah, i'm sorry to interrupt but i need to change rengoku's bandages." to prove her point, the nurse raised her arm to emphasise the strips of fabric held by them. you stood up hastily, sending a cursory glance back at the still-sleeping form of rengoku.

like all matters regarding the flame hashira, you found your mouth and body working a little faster than your brain.

"it's alright, i can change them for you. i'm sure that you have plenty of other patients to tend to." the nurse nodded, though she still looked hesitant to hand you the bandages. you gave her a reassuring smile, stretching out your hand to take them. "i've had plenty of experience with this, don't worry."

the nurse appeared relieved, giving you a quick thanks before exiting and letting the door click shut behind her.

you turned your attention back to rengoku's sleeping figure only to watch him crack a single amber eye open and give you an almost sheepish smile. you couldn't help the flooding sensation of relief that drenched your bones, and you returned his gesture.

"i'm glad to see that you're alright." rengoku's eyes never left yours, and you felt yourself grow hot underneath his gaze.

"glad to see you too." you offered a hand, helping rengoku shuffle further up the bed with minimal effort on your side. despite the bandages covering a large expanse of his upper body, his grip on your hand was still stable and you bit back the fond smile threatening to bloom on your face.

luckily for you, rengoku seemed to get the message that he needed to get shirtless without you asking him, which saved you a whole lot of embarrassment. you weren't confident in your ability to look him in the eye and ask him to strip without blushing, though you did exactly that as your eyes raked over his bare skin.

littered with scars and covering taut muscle, it was hard not to let your eyes wander down his form. from the look on rengoku's face, he looked well aware of the effect that he had on you and fixing you with a practically imperceptible smirk. you were quick to ask him to turn around, and he obliged as quickly as someone with broken and bruised bones could manage.

his back was the same story, with broad shoulders and defined shoulderblades that had muscle twitching without you touching it. you sucked in a breath, way too audible for your liking, and tried not to let your hand stretch out to run your fingers down the expanse of his back. you were here to help treat him, not indulge in some fantasy of yours.

your mindset snapped back to professionalism as you grabbed hold of the fresh bandages, opting to put them on after you removed the old ones. while there was no sign of infection, you still grimaced at the bloody sight of rengoku's major wound. you tried not to show how much it had upset you, both now and in the moment, and your attention turned to your slightly trembling fingers.

you were careful to avoid where his skin was obviously discoloured from bruising, not wanting to cause him any unnecessary pain. he was warm to the touch, enough to invite you in with some false sense of confort before burning you alive. the way his back muscles jumped at your touch did little to help your concentration, but you shouldered on.

your mingld escaped you, insisting on recounting those painful minutes where rengoku was vpeeding out on the battlefield. there was a particular focus on his insistence to tell you something, and you bit your lip. surely, he would ask you at some point from now.

"how are your ribs?" rengoku's voice cut through the silence, its rasping edge acting as evidence of hiw soundly he had been sleeping earlier. while it wasn't the question you wanted him to ask you, you were never one to turn down conversation. especially from him.

"worry about yourself, kyojuro. i'm fine." your appliance of the fresh bandage meant that you would now have to be stood in front of him, a development that had your face flaming from the close proximity. silence set in, and all that distracted you from the rise and fall of his stomach was his breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck. your eyes flickered towards the ceiling, relying on your hands to guide yourself instead.

you dared to glance down and saw rengoku’s eyes fixed on your face already. there was something about his softened features and the look in his eyes that had you scrambling to stare at the blank ceiling again. as much as you would like to retreat at every first sign if danger or confrontation, you knew that you woukd have to talk to him soon, whether it was you or him who brought up the conversation topic from that day.

taking a deep breath, you perched yourself on the edge of rengoku's bed, still maintaining a professional amount of distance from him. still close enough to spot how his smile brightens when you choose to stay. you glanced down at your fingers, twisting knots into themselves as they were placed in your lap. you almost cursed and placed them underneath you to stop that, but instead you fixed your gaze on the flame hashira's ever-present smile.

"do you remember when you said you had to tell me something? right after akaza?" rengoku straightened up a little, nodding. you gave a cursory glance to the bandages safely wrapped around him, and winced as you remembered how much blood had left him that day. 

as if he could tell what you were thinking, rengoku reached forward and took your hand in his. you sucked in a breath at the sensation of his calloused hands, wincing as your ribs ached in protest. you couldn’t bring yourself to break his stare as your fingers intertwined, and rengoku brought you slightly closer to him. the tension was palpable, and you squeezed his hand in an attempt to alleviate some of it.

“what did you want to tell me, kyojuro?” you were still closing the distance between the two of you, voice barely above a whisper because there was no need to talk any louder for him to hear you. everything about him drew you closer, and the thought of pulling away never crossed your mind. you finally stopped, inches away, staring at him expectantly.

“well, there was a chance that i was going to die that day, so i was going to be selfish and tell you that i love you."

it amazed you how he could say that with such confidence when that statement had effectively swept you off of your feet. you were well aware that you looked more than caught off guard- your eyes had widened, and your mouth probably hung open from shock. that was nothing to stop rengoku’s words, though. if anything, it only encouraged him to keep going.

"and when i said that i admire you, i meant it. i admire your strength and how willing you are to help others. i admire you when it's sunset and you're laughing and i admire the way your hands feel, especially here." he guided your hand to his face, letting it cradle his cheek as he rested his own hand at your wrist, not willing to let go. you were sinking into the warmth of his body, letting his borrowed strength keep you upright.

“and most of all, i admire you because i find your beauty striking in everything that you do.” you were silent as rengoku’s eyes searched your own, watching as his lips split as he laughed. “you’re crying again.” you raised your other hand to your cheekbone, feeling the liquid there that began its trek down the planes of your face. you wiped them away with the back of your hand, keeping yourself anchored to rengoku as you curled your fingers around his own.

you felt so light that you could float away, and you couldn’t  help but laugh and grin as you fully processed the confession of the man lying underneath you. tears still rolled down your cheeks, and you couldn’t help the bittersweet pang as you remembered exactly why he was here recovering.

“you really scared me back there, you know?”

“it wasn’t my intention.” you laughed through your sniffle, feeling his warm hand trace patterns on the back of yours. you shuffled forwards and, as best as your shared injuries allowed it, you gave rengoku a hug. while your arms were around his neck, his rested squarely on your lower back, and it was better than anything else you could imagine.

you pulled away, relinquishing the comfort of his arms in favour of looking him in the eye as you prepared what to say next. admittedly, it was a lot easier when you knew how the other person felt about you.

“you know i admire you too, rengoku, and i love you. so much.” joy rewrote itself within his eyes, and they almost glowed with how intense his emotions were after you uttered those words.

“you do?”

your yes came out as a barely audible breath before you were being snagged forwards by him again. you practically crashed against his lips, but you welcomed the sensation, pulling yourself closer to him and settling on his lap.

you sighed into the searing kiss, only truly appreciating his warmth now as you felt it spread through you. you kissed him back intensely, ignoring the dull ache of your ribs to chase the addictive feeling that you only got around him.

around the person who loved you back.

take a look at the menu - ,, ⛩ ·˚ ༘ ꒱

[bokutoslittlebird]

miya twins and their 19 year old virgin little sister, samu probably caught you trying to fuck yourself and let your dildo be your first since a lot of your friends are teasing you for being a virgin and then atsumu caught you red handed, watching porn. and what would happen if one of them got you preggo? too horny to even think about anything, sorry birdie-san ㅠㅡㅠ

DIVINE. DELICIOUS. you know that audio with the cats? That was me when I read this

Warnings : pregnancy, cunnilingus, f. masturbation, porn video (briefly), a pink dildo, dubcon, incest, manipulation

It’s your nineteenth birthday and while you had a wonderful party with your family, you still feel so young and small. Your brothers are both attending colleges for their own career paths, but you’ve just got out of high school and have no idea what you want to do! You’ve been babied by your brothers, so you don’t have a clear view of the future for yourself that doesn’t include Atsumu and Osamu by your side.

One thing bothered you though: you were still a virgin. Thanks to your brothers, boyfriends were a foreign concept to you. All your friends lost their virginities before their birthdays, but your last friend lost her virginity on her birthday, a present from her boyfriend. You were slow to coming to the party and you told them you’d have lost it by the time your birthday came around, even getting a boyfriend!

A boyfriend quickly discarded by the brooding brothers of yours. A sneer from Atsumu and a glare from Osamu had his tail between his legs. Truly, a shame. You knew your friends would tease you again for the lack of a boy in your life, so you decided to, uh, pretend. A dildo was similar to a penis, right? That’s why they existed.

You didn’t know it’d be so hard! You have to have an orgasm to properly lose your virginity, that’s what your friends said. Pumping the silicone piece into your tiny cunt was harder than expected, only fitting half in before you started to pump it. It sent a tingling down in your tummy, but it was more effort than expected. Noises or frustration mingled with your forced moans, whining as your wrists started to hurt.

Osamu was doing his homework when he heard you make a noise of frustration, huffing and puffing. He didn’t pay too much attention to it, but then you made a similar noise. So, time to investigate. He wouldn’t want you to exert so much energy, you’re his baby sister! He expected to see you trying to get something off a high shelf, your shirt riding up to show your smooth stomach or you to be under your bed, shorts-clad— even better, panty-clad rump in the air. He did not expect to see you on your bed, legs spread and pumping a pink silicone dildo into your cunt. If only that was his—

“‘Tsu- ‘Tsumu,” you moan out, biting on your lower lip. Osamu’s mouth drops into a frown, growling at his twin’s name dropping from your mouth. You turn to look at the door, suddenly opened only to be slammed shut.

A startled gasp makes him stop in front of you, eyes burning with an unknown desire. “‘Samu! What’re you doing?” He just looks at you, eyes glancing at your hand still between your legs. Your eyes go down, shame burning in your face. “I’m trying to be a big girl. I wanna lose my virginity,”

“Why didn’t ya ask me?” He asks, putting his weight on your bed. You panic and close your legs, moving the dildo out of you. “And why ya callin’ out ‘Tsumu’s name? Huh? Am I not good enough?”

“N-No! That’s not it! ‘Samu, you’re scaring me!” You cry out, his large hands spreading your legs. Your puffy pussy is fully on display for him, his eyes noticing the lack of slick. “Don’t hurt me!”

“I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m gonna help. Wanna be a big girl? I can help,” he says. He doesn’t move, though, waiting for your permission. Even though you’re hesitant — he’s your brother! You’re nodding your head, fingers soon finding themselves in Osamu’s darkened hair. He stopped dying it, so it’s completely natural again. His face is buried in your cunt, lapping at your folds as your moans aren’t forced, head thrown back as Osamu tongue fucks you. When he sticks two fingers into you, he doesn’t expect you to be so wet, a drastic difference from moments ago. He moves to wrap his lips around your clit, walls tightening as you finally release on his fingers and face.

When Osamu comes up, he’s licking his lips while you pant. “Did.. did I lose my virginity?” You ask him, tears clinging to your lashes.

“What d’ya mean?” You explain what your friends told you, all while he strips off his shirt and peppers kisses on your stomach, rising your shirt up as he does. “Nah, I gotta cum inside if you wanna lose it. You gonna let me do that?” The no hesitation in the nodding of your head has him grinning, straightening himself as he rubs his hardened cock through his pants. Today, fantasy becomes reality. “Alright, I’ll go slow,”

Even with his slow sinking into you, you’re gasping and clinging to his biceps for dear life, tears staining your pillow as he splits you open. He’s far bigger than the dildo, but the slick from your orgasm makes it much easier for him to slide in. He kisses your cheek, telling you how good you are. It’s the little praise that has you encouraging him to keep going, and he does. He keeps pushing in until he’s bumping against your cervix, almost completely inside of you. Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him locked against you.

“Don’t worry, lil sis. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he shushes, brushing your tears as he stays still. An occasional hiccup has his heart hurting, but he knows you’ll feel good eventually. Well, even if you don’t, he’ll start. When your legs loosen, dropping back to the plush bed, he starts moving. He’s still slow, spreading your walls for his thick cock as you continue to adjust. It’s not until you’re begging him for more does he pick up the pace, slamming his hips against yours. He has to cover your mouth so you don’t alert the whole house he’s fucking you, your screams of pleasure coming out. They’re muffled, but he can hear how much you’re enjoying it. It urges him to go even faster, grunting as he chases his own high.

Another screams rips from you, walls tightening as you cream on his fat cock, eyes rolling as toes curl. It’s enough to send Osamu over the edge, groaning as he buries himself even deeper inside, pumping you full of his cum, you milking every drop. He kisses you, your panting mouth perfect for him to give you a passionate kiss, staying deep inside you. He breaks the kiss, “I love ya, little sis,”

“Love you, too, nii-san,” you smile, kissing him again.

It’s all you ever wanted, to be a big girl. It also brings you and Osamu closer together, you often bouncing around the idea to help him in his shop once he gets it set up. When you go into his room, the door locking behind you, you miss the way Atsumu glares. He has a feeling you’re not studying with Osamu, but there’s nothing to suggest otherwise.

Well, when Osamu is late from coming back from college, Atsumu is the only one home. It’s a small breath of fresh air, relaxing his tired muscles after a long practice match. When he hears small grunts and moans from your bedroom, he goes to investigate. You shouldn’t be home, let alone have anyone with you. The creaking of the floorboards doesn’t stop the noises from your room, Atsumu’s curiosity spiking. Peeking into your open door, he sees you on your back, legs spread open as your laptop plays an obscene video, the moans and grunts coming from the speakers. Your occasional moan is muffled by the shirt hem in your mouth, but it’s dropped when you moan out Osamu’s name, eyes rolling back as your fingers work on your clit.

Atsumu glares at the mention of Osamu’s name, shutting the door that has you jumping and struggling to explain yourself. “Ya think ‘Samu’s better than me? Is that it?” They’re so similar, it’s striking. The hungry eyes, full of anger and lust, they look so much like Osamu’s, but the light blond hair reminds you it’s Atsumu. “What’re you- Yer watchin’ sibling porn? Thinking of your big brother? ‘S that it?”

“No, it’s not what you think, ‘Tsumu!” Unlike Osamu, Atsumu’s one to take what he wants. He moves the laptop off the bed, spreading your legs as you squirm and struggle. “Lemme go!”

“Brats like you need to be put in place, don’t’cha know? You’re fucking soaked, getting off on your big bro that much?” You’re crying and still trying to kick him off, but it just turns him on even more. You’re still innocent and so naive in his eyes, it’s nothing for him to just take that from you. His cock is already hard, begging to sink into your warm depths. “You gonna let me fuck you? It’ll be like that video you were watching,”

You’re shaking your head, pushing at his chest as he leans down to press kisses to your neck. “C’mon, lil sis. I’m not gonna hurt ya. You trust me, right?” It’s a question that has your movements stopping, glossy eyes looking at Atsumu. He’s smiling, your big brother not showing any hint of malice. You sniffle, his thumbs swiping away the silver droplets on your cheeks.

“As long as you promise not to hurt me, okay ‘Tsumu?” You ask him, big doe eyes of innocence as you look at him. He grins and kisses your lips, licking your bottom lip. A whispered breath of ‘wouldn’t dream of it’ is all you hear before his mushroom head is pushing at your entrance. He’s just as big as Osamu, but it’s still hard to take in. You’re nice and slick, though, Atsumu notes. All from watching some incest porn, it’s almost funny to him how all you had to do was ask, no reason to hide it! Him and Osamu have been dreaming of keeping you all to themselves, there’s no reason for you to hide your desires.

Once he��s bottomed out, he doesn’t let you adjust, immediately pulling out to thrust back in. It’s sharp and rough, knocking the air from your lungs as your head gets thrown back. Atsumu’s quick to attach his lips to your neck, sucking the flesh and digging his teeth into the skin. It’s a way to show he’s claimed you, as if he doesn’t plan on coming inside. That’s his goal — mark you inside and out. With your arms above your head, grasping the pillows, there’s no reason for him to not. Licking his thumb, he presses it to your clit and flicks it, sending shockwaves through you as you scream and cream around his cock, thighs tightening around him. He’s not too far behind you, rutting against you as he paints your insides white, sending you into another orgasm, juices spraying against his abdomen.

“Lookie there! You just squirted all over me,” he chuckles, rubbing your shaking thighs. You’re overstimulated, so he doesn’t push another round. There’ll be time for that later.

A week later, you find yourself in a dilemma when your clothes won’t fit. Worried about gaining weight, you confide in your big brothers who give you a test. “Just pee on it. It’ll tell you if you’re overeating,” they said. They’ve never lied to you before! When those two lines pop up on the plastic tool, you show it to them, confused. They tell you you’re pregnant, but then comes the question. Who’s the dad? Really, does it matter? They have a lot of love to give you and they’re twins. Your child is gonna look like both of them no matter what.

[thefanbasewhore]

Retirement.

Summary: Blood is something Bucky has grown used to but when he's covered in yours, he's sick. Don't worry, happy ending!!

Warning/Content: almost death, getting shot in the head, Bucky cries but finally gets everything he deserves 😅

Paring: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Bucky Barnes tag list and master list

"Buck -" The rasp comes from the piece in his ear, he barely hears it as bullets that wiz past the surface of his head and bounce off the ground. He's out of breath, gasping as he find shelter behind an abandoned car, pressing the piece closer.

"What is it? Did you get in?" He pauses, "We need those files."

"Buck, he has a gun, he has me. Compromised." His heart is already unsteady and those words only make it beat faster. A pit forming in his stomach instead, he hears a male voice in the background.

"Who has a gun?" The silence makes his brows crease, heart drop as his voice cracks. "Answer me!"

"He wants to know where you are and what files you want." Bucky let's out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding at the sound of your voice.

"Tell him, give him the drive." There's no hesitation in his voice. There nothing in this world he wouldn't do to save you, nothing else mattered. Not the mission and definitely not the data.

But you know this, he's hard headed but instead of listening to Bucky you decide to test the waters. Looking up at the man which isn't hard, he has you on your knees, hands out in front of you but a gun inches from your head. "He said fuck off, if you shoot me you'll never know."

"What are you doing? Give him the drive, now." The growl that emphasizes the last word would usually be enough to have you shaking, but you don't give. Despite how rough he sounds, he tries to soften it "That's an order, give it to him sweetheart."

"Oh, he said fuck off again."

Bucky body runs hot, adrenaline pumping through his veins, warming his entire body as makes a b-line for the building you disappeared into a short while ago. "Give him the fucking drive."

It's useless, he hears rustling and talking but nothing he can understand but that's until he hears you talk to fast he can barely understand. "Office, we are in the first office second floor."

It's music to his ears, a second of relief but he feels dizzy as the found of a gun going off through the comlink almost paralyzes him.

"Fuck!" He yells, as he calls your name repetitively but there is no answer.

Nothing can stop him, he's running so fast he can barely register. It's all a blur, up the stairs through the main office until the stench of blood greets him.

There you are, lifeless and surrounded by your own blood.

His hands grasp gently grasping your head, blood seeping through his gapped fingers as good heart drops. "No..no." he mumbles to himself, managing to turn you over. It's hard to breath, he can't even think, see over the tears that blue his vision. A large lump forming in his mouth, it seals his throat.

There's too much blood to see anything, it soaks your scalp and mats into the hair around it. His fingers blindly look around for an exit wound but nothing is there, instead his focus falls to the rise and fall of your chest, still breathing.

Eyelashes flicker again cheekbones, disoriented and confused as Bucky let's out a sign of relief while you crunch your nose together in pain. He takes a second, just one to lay his head on top of yours and thank anything - anyone.

"Where does it hurt? I can't see, your bleeding too much baby.." Bucky watches as your eyes flicker from his steel blues and your hand reaches up to run a knuckle again his jaw, feeling the course fine hairs there. "Hey, listen to me, where does it hurt?"

Following the path of your shaky fingers he lets out a sigh of relief, the bullet managed to just graze the side of your head. The spot is hot under his trembling plam, beginning to scab and the hair is ripped away but he feels so thankful in that moment.

"He missed." It's not funny but both of you can't help but laugh as your sense of mind is returning. Hues of yellow and blue already forming under both of your eyes, no doubt from the head trauma.Bucky feels one of your hands push against his chest which he responds by tightening his core.

"Get off, I'm fine."

The look he gives you is filled with annoyance, eyes widening as if he can't believe the words that came out of your mouth, especially since his pants are wet and sticky seeing he is actually kneeling in a pool of blood.

"Are you crazy? You will bleed out." Bucky is quick to rip a piece of material from a nearby blanket, wrapping it tightly around your head but keeps pressure with his palm. "You need to get stitched up before you bleed out."

"I'm fine." Trying to push him away again but the look he gives is warning enough so you don't fight him as one arm slip underneath your knees, and then other supports your head against his chest.

"Scared me." Is all he manages to mumble as he starts his ascend towards stairs, a small kiss pressed against the uninjured part of your head. It's gentle, filled with so many words as his lips linger there, more so to reinsure that the skin is warm, full of color and lively. "Don't ever do that again, please."

"Bucky I couldn't just give it to them." Something is placed into his coat pocket while you tap it with a small smile. Hooded eyes weak, threatening to close with every passing second. "So I didn't, it's safe, the morons didn't even bother to search me."

Great, the mission is still ago but he's frowning. "I don't care about the mission. I care about you risking your life for some file, you disobeyed my orders I told you to give it to them and to tell them. If that bullet was an inch closer you would have died."

Silence feel over the pair, nothing else to be said because Bucky was right. The agreement was Bucky was in charge, in order for you to come everything would be up to him, especially because you weren't supposed to be there in the first place.

"I'm sorry, Buck." Guilt creeping over, pressing a small kiss to the underside of his jaw. Small tears beginning to blur vision but you're not sure if it's from the look of disappointed and fear that line his handsome features or that fact that you were that close to death and blood is soaking threw the make shift bandage and trailing down the side of your head. "I should have listened."

"I need a medic." Bucky brings his wrist to his lips before laying his cheek against the top of your own. The heavy, swish of air from the helicopter does little to him, he still stands confident and strong as he speaks.

"Don't cry, doll. I'm not mad, I promise." He pauses but you can feel his hands trembling, heart pounding inside of his chest. "Just scared, I'm covered in your blood and i hate it."

***

He was right, from head to toe, smeared across his face and dying his hands pink even after scrubbing them effortlessly in the shower does little to get it off. The smell of your blood is still fresh, enough to crinkle his nose with distaste. Every time he looks down it's a reminder that he almost lost you.

When he enters the bedroom with a towel around his waist you look up, head still spinning but now the wound is stitched up, white bandages knotted behind your head. After the initial shock left your system you notice the side affects, right below where the bullet grazed, your right ear is ringing. You can hear anything and honestly, the doctors couldn't give a definite answer if it will ever come back.

"How your head, did the medicine start working yet?" Bucky asks, throwing on a pair on underwear and doesn't bother with anything else.

With a defeat huff you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut as the bright light of the bathroom hurts. Bucky notices and shuts it off before curling up into the bed, legs entangling with your own as he presses a soft kiss against your neck.

A few more soft ones pressed against your cheeks, the warmth gathering the few tears that slip from your eyes. A hand runs through the soft strands of the involved side of your head, a soft hum of comfort vibrates against it. "Shhhh, it's going to be okay sweetheart."

As the underside of his hand comes back up to comfort you the pink hue catches his attention once again and a frown fills his features.

"I don't want to say this..." his words are rushed and desperate but he can't keep it in any longer. "Every time I close my eyes I see you there, in your own blood. I can't shake the feeling of your blood oozing through my fingers."

Bucky is never one to hold his partner back and to be honest he thinks you're one of the best agents he's ever met, skilled and smart but none of that will matter if you are dead. "I don't want you going on active missions anymore."

"You don't get to decide that." You argue, he fears the worse as your head moves from his hand, no longer seeking the comfort. "You can't do that."

"I need piece of mind, you're the only person I have left." He argues. The bright moon creates just enough light to illuminate one side of your face through the window. Eyes are black and blue and red shot, a popped vessel on the corner of your right eyes almost swells it shit. They're also puffy, no doubt from the wound and all the crying. In pain, agonizing pain, who knew getting shot in the head would give you such a bad headache? His soft hands find you again, pulling you close and gently for you face him.

One hand slides over the skin of the back of your arm, squeezing the muscle there as he presses an experimental kiss against your lips in fear you'll pull away. You couldn't if you tried, pull away that is. The smell of his soap overrides any other sense, his skin is soft and warm, his lips gentle as he strokes your hairline, pushing the hair away from your forehead. "I didn't say you have to stop, just be more careful about it, no more active missions but you can go after, make the arrests, still get in on the action."

"So let everyone else do the hard work while I sit on the sidelines? That not who I am."

"Please." He sounds desperate, blue eyes roaming over the soft features of your face, the wrinkle of irritation pinching lines between your forehead, the curve of your nose to the fullness of your lips. Beautiful, breathtaking, he's never loved something so much before. The fact that you're still laying next to him, breathing makes him want to cry.

So he does, unwanted tears fall in a messy, zig-zagged pattern as he hiccups. A soft, small hand finds his head, the buzz cut smooth under finger-tips.

"Bucky, baby.."

"I have lost everyone. My parents, my friends... Steve. I don't want to loose you either." A sound so sad, choked up and stuttering jumps his chest as he cries into your neck.

It's long over due, he refuses to speak about it. The last year of his life as been challenging to say the least, he's trying to adapt but struggling. Coming to terms of what he's done over the last 70 years but also learning how to love again, how to become human again.

Steve still haunts his dreams, his best friend, the man who saved him from Hydra, from everything is now gone. The one person who has been constant, his backbone but now he's finding that in you and honestly, his heart cant take much more.

"It's alright Buck, I'm not leaving you. I promise, I'm right here." It doesn't help, his heart his burning, chest crushing under the pressure of tears. The ball of emotion and growing and growing in the back of his throat, making it hard to speak. "You can't leave me.. you can't."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm okay."

"You're not okay, you can barely keep your eyes open. You have a gun shot wound in the side of your head! I felt it, your blood stains my hands. It's all I can smell. I thought you were dead... I can't take it."

What If he didn't miss? If Bucky had found you lifeless and cold?

"It's okay." You rub soothing circles to the middle of back, letting him cry it out. He needs it, he needs to talk about his problems, grow from them.

"What If we both stop?" Bucky's words silence you, "No more missions, we find a home, settle down. Just me and you."

The thought had crossed your mind more than once, a peaceful place to call your own with the man you love. Who knows what would happen? There's no doubt the pair of you would be bored out of your minds but can also gets jobs to fill the void, teach self defense classes.. start a family.

The thought alone makes your heart pound, so filled with love. "I want a normal life.. it's all I ever wanted. I can't imagine it with anyone else but I also need you safe. We can...." He's hesitant, not sure if they're the right words. "We can get married, get a home.. leave all this behind."

It's all so much, his words mix with the ache in the side of your skull but you don't need to think twice. The promise of Bucky forever is impossible to pass up on. "Yes."

"Yes to what?" Bucky's breathing is normal now, a few stray tears soaking your skin but his chest doesn't move. Like he's not breathing because he'll miss the words you say.

"All of it, to being your wife, to starting a normal life with you." After everything Bucky has been through, it's the least he deserves and you're going to give it to him. As his smile grows against your skin, you're breathless. Heart beating rapidly against his own and you swear you fall in love all over again.

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Cat and Mouse Game - Fred Weasley

Title: Cat and Mouse Game Pairing: Fred x fem!reader Warnings: NSFW, mentions of masturbation, semi-public sex, fingerfucking, unprotected sex A/N: I have a lot of feelings about Fred Weasley and very few of them are innocent. This is like 95% filth with some fluff thrown in at the end because I love Fred Weasley and he’s my only source of serotonin.

Tags: @tonksichu​

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They’ve been playing the same game of cat and mouse since their Hogwarts days. They’d take turns leaving flirty notes for the other to find, grabbing the other’s hand under the table at dinner, pulling the other into a dark corridor for a few minutes of stolen kisses. Not much has changed between them since then, although their games are far less innocent.

“Mail’s here!” Verity calls from somewhere in the shop.

Fred doesn’t move a muscle, his focus completely taken up by the potion he’s stirring in front of him. He and George have been working on a new product for weeks, a candy infused with truth serum that only lasts for one question – the perfect addition to any game of truth or dare. They had planned on launching it next week, but they’re still having problems getting the formula of the truth serum just right.

“For fucks sake,” he mutters to himself when a puff of black smoke rises out of the cauldron. “Too much dandelion root.” He shoves himself away from his desk, stalking over to the sink so he can start over again. He’s so focused on scrubbing that he doesn’t hear George come in.

“Not going well, eh?” George asks, chuckling when Fred drops the cauldron, clearly startled by his brother’s sudden presence.

“I’m going to make you wear a bell for Merlin’s sake. You scared the shit out of me,” Fred groans, picking the cauldron back up. He rinses it one more time before stalking back to his desk. He’s about to start working again, when he notices that George is still standing in front of him. “Did you need something? Or are you just gonna stand there to annoy me?”

George smiles at his brother. Partially because he finds his frustrated demeanor amusing, but mostly because it’ll annoy Fred further. “Oh, I just popped in to bring you your mail.”

Fred rolls his eyes, getting back to work. “Just put it in the tray, I’ll get to it later.” He gestures lazily to the incoming work tray on the corner of his desk, which has started to pile up. He’s going over his notes so he can adjust the amount of dandelion root for the fifth time, when George shoves a letter into his line of vision.

“Actually, dear brother of mine I think you’ll notice that this particular letter requires your immediate attention,” George snickers. He drops the letter on the desk, and with a waggle of his fingers he’s gone.

Fred had only gotten a glimpse of the envelope, but as soon as George has closed the door behind him he pushes his work aside to pick it up. He recognized Y/N’s delicate writing immediately, he had become quite familiar with it during their time together at school.

In fact, he’s been waiting for this letter for the past three weeks. That’s how it is with them. One of them is the aggressor while the other waits for the next letter, waits for the details of their next meeting. It had been Fred’s turn to wait, and wait he had. Most nights he found himself laying in bed, hand around his hard cock thinking about the things he and Y/N had gotten up to during their last rendezvous.

That’s the one thing he truly misses about his days back in school, how easy it was for him to force her hand when he was tired of waiting. He knew her too well, knew how to get under her skin. Whenever he missed the feeling of her hand in his, or when he had nearly forgotten what the inside of her mouth tastes like it was all too easy to get her to make her move. All it took was some innocent flirting during breakfast, usually with Angelina Johnson, and by lunch time there would be a note in Y/N’s delicate scrawl detailing their next meeting time and place on his pillow.

But now he truly has to wait for Y/N to need him. They had gone longer than three weeks before, but that had been during the war, when it was too dangerous to play their game. Fred knows that he could always break their little game, he could owl her any day and have her in his bed that night, but he enjoys the chase, it’s part of the fun.

His mind wanders as his fingers tear at the envelope, wondering which of their games Y/N had chosen for them, silently hoping she had chosen his favorite.

Sometimes their game was romantic. They’d meet at a fancy muggle restaurant, all dressed up. Fred would wine and dine her for hours before he’d take her back to his. Their sex was always slow and intimate. Fred would make sure she could feel all of him and wouldn’t stop until his name was dripping from her lips as she came. He’d kiss her slowly as he came insider her, wanting to feel as close to her as possible.

Other times, their game was quick and dirty. They’d meet at a hotel room in London and from the second the door was shut behind them they were all over each other. They’d both be naked in a matter of minutes, their hands roaming each other’s bodies and Fred’s mouth leaving marks on her wherever he can. Their sex was quick and hard, both of them usually on their lunch breaks. Often they came together, and Fred’s lips wouldn’t leave her skin until they were back on the bustling streets of London and parting ways to go back to their lives.

Fred’s favorite game by far was the perfect mix of the others. They’d meet at a muggle club, just a few minutes apart from each other. Fred would arrive first and grab a drink from the bar before settling at a table. When Y/N would enter they’d lock eyes, and the game would truly begin. Y/N would spend the evening doing as she pleases: drinking, dancing, and most importantly, flirting. Fred would watch her from his spot, jealousy and arousal building up in his stomach. He’d let her push it and just as some unsuspecting muggle is trying to get her to leave with him, Fred would swoop in and remind her just who she belongs too. Their first round is quick and dirty, usually in the toilets of whatever club they happen to be at. Then he’d apperate them back to hers, and they’d spend the rest of the evening tangled in the sheets of her bed, kissing softly as he ruined her.

Fred fumbles with the envelope as he pulls the piece of parchment out, too excited to be careful. A grin spreads across his face as he eyes scan over the few words written down. She had chosen his favorite game, and he couldn’t wait to play.

Malibu. Tonight. 10:30.

-

Y/N stands in front of her open closet in nothing but a dressing gown, nervous butterflies in her stomach as she contemplates what to wear. Upscale muggle clubs are not her usual stomping ground and she wants to look perfect, so she’s at a loss for what to wear.

Of course, she could have picked one of their other games. She had plenty of dresses she felt confident in that would have been perfect for a night at a muggle restaurant, but it had already been three weeks since she’d seen Fred last, and she didn’t want to wait any longer for a reservation to open up. A lunch time meet up would have been perfect as well, since her and Fred managed to get naked in under 10 seconds her clothes wouldn’t matter, but she needed longer than an hour with him.

Plus, this particular game is Fred’s favorite, and she needs him nice and riled up for the night she has planned. They’ve only played out this game two other times, but both times Y/N was barely able to walk the next day.

She decides to go with something white, for a few different reasons. For one, Y/N had bought a white silk dress that hugs her curves perfectly last weekend and seeing her in something new and tight will rile Fred up even more.

But mostly, she knows that seeing her in white awakens something carnal in Fred. Y/N had once made the mistake of wearing a brand new set of matching white bra and panties to one of their meetings, and after Fred had ripped her panties off he fucked her hard, growling in her ear about how innocent she looked in white, but that they both knew what a dirty slut she was for him. He had made her cum so many times that she cried from the overstimulation, the only downside was that she had to replace her ruined panties and they had been quite expensive.

Y/N grabs the new white dress out of her closet, a shiver running down her spine at the memory. Three weeks is far too long to go without having Fred both in her bed and just in her life generally. She makes a mental note not to wait that long next time as she heads over to her dresser. She opens the top drawer, trying to decide which pair of panties would really get Fred going.

“Well, if I’m being honest with myself,” Y/N thinks out loud, quietly. With a wicked smile she slams the drawer shut. “No panties it is.”

-

Fred is already nursing a whiskey sour at a table when Y/N strolls into the main room of the club. Their eyes lock across the crowded room, and after sending her a sly wink his eyes trail down her body.

“Holy hell,” he groans, the grip he has on his glass tightening. He can already feel himself getting hard in his trousers just from the outfit Y/N is wearing alone. Fred can tell by the way the lights reflect off of it that the tight piece of fabric clinging to her every curve is made out of silk, his absolute favorite. The fact that it’s white drives him even crazier and he quickly downs his drink, needing to calm himself down.

From where Y/N is standing at the bar Fred has the perfect view of her bum. He absent mindedly signals for a waitress to bring him another drink, his eyes trained on Y/N. Fred has to stifle a groan when her dress rides up the back of her thighs as she leans forward to shout her order to the bartender. He’s fully hard in his trousers now as he thinks about how badly he wants to feel those thighs wrapped around his head.

Just as a waitress sets another drink down on Fred’s table a young man with tousled blonde hair comes up behind Y/N, blocking his view.

He takes a sip of his drink. “Let the games begin.”

-

Y/N feels someone come up behind her, and a moment later she can feel them press up against her. “You come here alone?”

She smiles to herself before turning to the stranger. There’s no doubt that he’s attractive, and Y/N knows that she had positioned herself directly in Fred’s line of sight, so she knows that he’s watching their exchange.

“I did actually,” she drawls, her hand running down the length of the glass the bartender had just set in front on her. “Was hoping to find someone that piques my interest here.”

The man’s eyes follow the languid movement of her hand on her glass for a moment, before he looks into her eyes with a smirk. “Oh really? Any luck so far?”

Y/N takes a sip of her drink, willing herself to keep her eyes on the man in front of her instead of searching for Fred’s. The alcohol burns her throat as arousal begins to build in her stomach. She knows Fred is out there, watching her intently as she flirts with someone who isn’t him. But they both know who she’ll be going home with, and that though alone has her pussy aching.

“I think so,” Y/N responds, her voice dripping with arousal. It’s not due to the man standing in front of her, but he doesn’t need to know that. She looks him up and down, taking notice of his strong hands and long legs. She nods to herself, almost saying ‘yeah, he’ll do.’ She downs the rest of her drink quickly and slaps some muggle money down on the bar. “Care to dance?”

-

Fred’s eyes are trained on the dance floor, his second drink abandoned on the table next to him.  He’s too focused on Y/N, watching her hips sway to the beat of whatever muggle song is playing. Her back is pressed up against the front of the bloke that approached her at the bar, and his hands are gripping her hips. They’ve been dancing like that for at least 30 minutes and Fred feels like he hasn’t even blinked, he’s too entranced by Y/N.

His cock has been aching in his trousers for what feels like hours, and his stomach is a pit full of arousal and jealousy. On one hand he finds Y/N’s actions downright dirty, and he knows he’ll be thinking of how good she looks tonight next time he’s alone in bed and desperate for her touch. On the other hand, he wants to be the one dancing behind her, gripping her hips so tightly he leaves bruises to remind her of him for days after.

Fred clenches his fist, his eyes trailing up Y/N’s body to her face to try and calm himself down. They’ve only been at it for 45 minutes and Fred already wants to storm over and claim Y/N. The first time they had played this particular game Y/N had been shy, and Fred had watched her flirt with a few different guys before she had settled on the dance floor with one. He watched her with him for the better part of two hours before he intervened, no longer able to stand the fact that it wasn’t his hands gripping her bum.

The second time Y/N was bolder. She had spent only 30 minutes at the bar talking to a bloke before they moved to the dance floor. Fred had managed to watch for over an hour that time before his hands ached to touch her and he sent the muggle man Y/N had been with away.

When he first entered the club that evening he had planned on waiting longer. Y/N had made him wait three weeks, and he planned on punishing her by making her wait for him. But now that he’s standing there, watching her move in that sinful white dress against someone who isn’t him he can barely stop himself from stomping over there and taking her right in the middle of the dance floor.

Usually he can contain himself. She’s always driven him mad, but he enjoys their little game too much to break the rules. He loves the uncertainty of the chase, it’s what had drawn him in all those years ago at Hogwarts. Not knowing what the next note would contain, not knowing how long she would make him wait, not knowing what wicked plans she had made for them. Y/N was just as unpredictable as Fred and that usually drove him crazy in a good way. But now, as Fred watches her grind up against some stranger he would give anything to know what’s going on in her mind. Fred isn’t sure if it’s because it’s been three weeks since he last saw her or because she looks absolutely ethereal tonight but he’s ready to end their game early and take his woman home.

Luckily for Fred the song Y/N and her partner had been dancing to fades into another, and the pair head back towards the bar. Fred adjusts himself in his trousers so his arousal isn’t so obvious, before he throws some money on his table.

“Time to end this game.”

-

A light line of sweat has begun to drip down Y/N’s back and she can feel the wetness of her pussy coating her thighs. Her and Darren, she had managed to remember to at least ask the name of the poor bloke she planned on blue balling, had been dancing right in the middle of the dance floor where Y/N knew Fred could see. She could feel his gaze on her as she moved her hips to the beat which did nothing but heighten her arousal.

“So, what are you drinking?” Darren asks as they reach the bar once again. Y/N had suggested they get another drink, needing to take a break from Fred’s stare.

Y/N can smell Fred before she feels him. He’s always smelled the same, like cinnamon, fireworks and something Y/N can only describe as home. She’s about to respond to the question when she feels someone press up against her back. Fred grabs her hips tightly and Y/N has to bite her lip to keep from moaning.

“Actually, I think she’s had enough to drink,” Fred answers for her as he pulls her even tighter against his chest. His voice sends waves of pleasure through Y/N’s body, and she tries to subtly rub her thighs together to try and get some relief on her aching pussy.

Darren glares at Fred, and if Y/N wasn’t so turned on she probably would have laughed. “Oi, mate, d’you mind? We’re having a good time together.”

Y/N can feel Fred’s chest rumble against her back as he laughs, clearly unphased by what Darren had said. She feels Fred lean down, and a shiver runs down her spine as his lips lightly caress her earlobe.

“Is that true, baby? Were you having a good time with him?” Fred whispers in Y/N’s ear before he begins to press light kisses to the side of her neck.

“I was, yes,” she admits, with a nod, her voice shaking with arousal.

Darren looks like he’s about to tell Fred off, but Fred’s lips stop their movements on her neck so he can whisper in her ear again. “But what about me, baby? Are you ready to have a good time with me?”

Y/N is barely able to nod before Fred is spinning her in his arms and kissing her deeply. She can hear Darren say something rude as he stalks off, but her mind is too full of Fred to register it. Fred trails one of his hands down to Y/N’s bum, giving it a tight squeeze, and when she parts her lips to let out a soft moan he takes the opportunity to lick into her mouth.

When Fred breaks their kiss a few moments later Y/N is breathless, her cheeks tinted pink. She chases after his lips, desperate for more but Fred grabs her chin. Her eyes flick up to meet his gaze, and a tingle of pleasure runs through her pussy at how dark Fred’s eyes are.

“You drive me so fucking crazy, Y/N,” he growls into her ear. “You show up here in this,” he pauses so his fingers can tug at the bottom hem of her dress before he continues. “Knowing that I can’t touch you.” Fred trails off for a moment, letting his lips press slow kisses up and down the column of her throat. “Such a naughty girl, aren’t you?”

Y/N lets out a whine, letting her head fall back so Fred’s lips have more skin to kiss. “Just wanted to look pretty for you is all,” she gasps. Fred’s mouth had found her sweet spot and started to slowly suck at it.

Fred hums against her neck, his hands wrapping around her waist. He pulls her body flush against his, slowly rolling his hips forward so Y/N can feel his hard cock press up against her. “You look so pretty baby. And so, fucking dirty. Grinding against some random bloke while I watch, putting on a show for me.”

Y/N is soaking wet at this point, Fred’s words and actions only turning her on further. She pulls his face away from her neck, unable to contain herself anymore. She presses their lips together messily, moaning as Fred’s soft lips move with hers. Their kiss is uncoordinated, but Y/N doesn’t care. “Need you, Freddie. Need you so bad,” she whines into his mouth.

Fred kisses her for a moment longer before he forces himself to pull away. Y/N’s mouth is intoxicating, and he could spend hours just standing there and kissing her. But his cock is aching and Y/N needs him and he can’t deny her anything.

In the blink of an eye Fred has lead them away from the bar and is pushing Y/N up against the closed door of the women’s toilets. He presses their lips together hungrily as he grabs her thigh, hitching it around his waist to give him access to her core.

Y/N moans into Fred’s mouth as they kiss, his right hand gripping her thigh tightly while the other trails up her other leg towards her pussy. A smirk forms on her lips as Fred’s hand inches closer to where she needs him most, knowing that he’s about to discover her little secret.

“You dirty little slut,” Fred growls as he breaks their kiss. He had planned on teasing Y/N by softly rubbing her clit through her panties, but when he finally reached her folds he was met with her dripping entrance. He rubs her exposed clit with his thumb, causing Y/N to let out a long whine. “Look at you. Trying to fool everyone in your little white dress. Pretending you’re so innocent while your pussy is bare, anyone able to get a glance.”

Y/N is barely able to speak, her breath coming out in hard pants as Fred toys with her clit, his index finger beginning to slowly circle her entrance, just barely letting the tip of his finger enter her heat. She opens her mouth to respond, but a moan comes out instead as Fred finally lets his index finger sink fully into her.

“Is that what you were hoping for? Hm?” Fred asks as he curls his finger, smiling when Y/N clenches around him. “Hoping someone else would get a flash of your sweet pussy? Hoping someone else would notice and get a turn with you before me?”

Y/N shakes her head wildly, her mouth running dry as Fred adds another finger. Her fingers dig into Fred’s shoulders to try and steady herself as his thumb starts to rub her clit harder. “N-no,” she manages to stutter out a few seconds later when she remembers how to speak. “Did it for you. Only for you. Only want you.”

Fred buries his face in Y/N’s neck to hide the blush that has started to tint his cheeks. Even though they’ve never defined their relationship Fred knows that Y/N doesn’t see anyone else while they’re apart and he doesn’t either. But hearing that she only wants him makes him want to say things he’s felt since he was 15 years old. So he presses kisses into the hot skin of her neck instead, because it’s not appropriate to tell someone you love them for the first time while you fingerfuck them in the bathroom of a club.

“’M close,” Y/N breaths, one of her hands leaving Fred’s shoulder to tangle in the hair at the base of his neck. She can feel her climax approaching quickly, and with one more curl of Fred’s fingers against her sweet spot she’s tumbling over the edge, Fred’s name falling from her mouth.

Fred fingers continue their movements, his touch much lighter and slower to help her through her climax. When Y/N’s breathing has somewhat returned to normal Fred slowly removes his fingers and presses one more kiss to her neck so he can look at her face. Her cheeks are flushed red and her lips are swollen.

“God you’re so beautiful,” Fred whispers, kissing her deeply once again. He pulls away a moment later, pressing their foreheads together. He’s painfully aware of how hard he is in his trousers and he grinds against Y/N’s bum, trying to get some kind of relief.

Y/N giggles at Fred’s actions, bumping their foreheads together lightly. “You gonna take me home and fuck me? Or should I go find that bloke from earlier and see if he’ll give it to me?” she teases.

Without another word Fred is gripping her tightly and apperating them away.

-

As soon as they land in Y/N’s flat Fred reattaches their lips, keeping it slow and intimate. Now that the rushed part of their evening is over Fred wants to take his time with her. He moves them to her bedroom slowly, Y/N’s fingers working at the buttons of his shirt.

They reach her bed just as Y/N has worked the last button of Fred’s shirt, and he breaks their kiss so he can lightly push her back onto the bed. He rids himself of his shirt before he crawls over Y/N and reattaches their lips in a heated kiss. He grabs one of her knees and pulls her legs apart, settling in between them.

“Take this off,” Fred demands, his hands tugging at the hem of her dress. “ I wanna see all of you.” As Y/N takes of her dress Fred fumbles with his belt, quickly undoing it before moving on to his trousers. He falls back onto the bed so he can kick the rest of his clothing off, his cock finally getting some relief from its tight confines.

Before Fred can crawl back on top of Y/N she’s straddling his waist. She acts as if she’s going to kiss him, but at the last second she turns her attention to his neck and starts peppering kisses along the exposed skin.

Fred’s hands come up and grip Y/N’s hips tightly. “You’re such a tease.”

Y/N laughs into Fred’s neck as she kisses it, causing Fred to chuckle as well. While there are many parts of a healthy sex life Fred loves and enjoys, kissing is certainly in his top 3; which Y/N is fully aware of. They had once spent over an hour in one of Hogwarts’ secret passageways with Y/N pressed up against the wall as their lips moved together. It was one of the first times they had met in secret, and Fred still gets butterflies in his stomach when he thinks about it. Which he does far more often than he’d like to admit.

Fred lets her kiss and suck at his neck for a few moments longer before he flips them over, causing Y/N to squeal both in delight and surprise. Fred bites at her shoulder momentarily before he starts to peck her lips several times.

“I was gonna ride you ya know,” Y/N says with a soft laugh in between kisses. Fred laughs as well, one of his hands coming up to cup Y/N’s cheek while the other starts to massage one of her breasts, his thumb teasing her nipple. “Fuck, Freddie. Feels so good,” she moans.

Fred pulls away from her slightly so he can look Y/N in the eyes. “You do look exceptionally pretty when you sit on my cock, my love.” Fred pauses, his thumb rubbing her cheek as a pink blush spreads across it. “But tonight, I want- no I need.” Fred’s sentence is cut short as Y/N grabs him by the neck and brings their lips together.

She kisses him slow, letting Fred take the lead and lick into her mouth. Y/N doesn’t need Fred to finish his sentence, she already knows what he was trying to say, because she feels the same way. After an evening full of teasing and putting on a show for each other there’s nothing either of them want more than to be close to one and other.

“Please, Freddie,” Y/N begs as Fred’s fingers begin to pinch at her other nipple.

Without another word Fred hitches Y/N’s left leg up on his hip and lines himself up with her entrance. He pushes in slowly with a roll of his hips, both of them letting out low moans. Fred doesn’t stop moving until he’s fully buried inside her, his lips coming up to suck at the skin just below her earlobe.

“Feel so good, baby. Always feel so good. Oh God-,” Fred’s words cut off with a groan as Y/N clenches around him. Fred rests his forehead against hers so he can look her in the eyes. He pulls out of Y/N halfway before he pushes back in, slowly starting to fuck her. “God I love you.”

Before Fred has a chance to regret what he’s said Y/N is kissing him hungrily, her hips moving to meet Fred’s thrusts. She breaks their kiss to let out a whine as Fred’s thumb starts to rub slow circles on her clit in time with his thrusts.

“Merlin that feels good,” she breaths, tilting her chin up to kiss Fred briefly. “Not gonna last much longer,” she moans.

Fred speeds up his thrusts as he hitches Y/N’s leg higher on his hip so that he’s hitting her sweet spot with every thrust. “Me either, love. Come for me baby.”

With a few more thrusts, Y/N is coming, her toes curling and nails scratching down Fred’s back from the pleasure as she moans his name. Her walls spasm and clench against Fred’s cock, helping him to reach his climax. Her moans are cut off by Fred kissing her deeply as he reaches his own high, emptying himself into Y/N.

Fred slows his thrusts down, helping them both come down from their highs, his mouth still moving against Y/N’s softly. After a few final thrusts he slowly pulls out, and rolls onto his back, his hands gripping Y/N’s waist so that she rolls with him and their kiss doesn’t break.

They just lay there kissing for a few minutes, Y/N’s hands tangled in Fred’s hair while his hands rub circles on her hips. Y/N pulls away first, her breathing heavy and her cheeks flushed red. Fred smiles at her and brings one of his hands up to stroke her hair.

They sit there for a few moments in silence, just looking at each other. Fred feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest as he studies Y/N’s familiar features. After tonight he’s more sure than he’s ever been, he doesn’t want to spend another moment with out her in his life.

“I meant what I said, you know,” Fred says quietly, not wanting to disturb their peaceful moment.

Y/N kisses him briefly. “That I look pretty sitting on your cock? ‘Cause I’ve known that for ages,” she teases.

“Well yes I did mean that,” Fred says with a chuckle before kissing her again. “But that’s not what I was talking about. And it’s okay if you-”

He’s about to say something else, when Y/N lurches forward to kiss him. “I love you too you idiot. Always have.”

-

When Y/N wakes up the next morning and turns over she’s disappointed that Fred isn’t in bed next to her. While they never usually spent the night together, last night had been different and she had fallen asleep last night dreaming of what round three would consist of in the morning.

Y/N is halfway through cursing Fred out in her head when she notices an envelope sitting on the pillow Fred’s head had been cradled against only a few hours ago. She grabs it, letting her finger trace over her name written in Fred’s messy scrawl on the outside before she tears it open.

My flat. Tonight, tomorrow, the day after that and every single day for the rest of forever. 6 pm.

Love you forever and always.

Y/N scans her eyes over the words several times, letting Fred’s message sink in. She smiles to herself as she falls back against her pillows, her hear swelling with more love than she ever thought possible. “Game over.”

[yanderenightmare]

uhm, yandere Katsuki with a small reader... like idk how to explain but fluff fear? like waking up together but all she can think about is how loud he sleeps and how BIG he is, also him being a total bitch about how small she is?

yandere kidnapper ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

goodiebag WARNINGS: dubcon/noncon mentions, kidnapping, abduction, abuse, degradation

PUFF

Waking up warmer than usual was something she’d gotten terribly used to. 

It had only been a couple days. A couple days in a foreign house without anything to do except prance around in what lingerie Katsuki bothered to give her, or sleep the hours away. Where which the latter was undesirable, because she’d be risking getting snuck up on by the brute predator once he returned. So, she was left walking about, dragging tired limbs through barren hallways, stopping to take in the space of each impersonal room, half-naked and cold in the marble mansion, doing nothing but dreading the time her hero came home. 

And in the absence of things happening, those moments where she was in fact preoccupied with something became so much heavier and longer than what they were in reality. Expanded, to the degree where she could pinpoint almost every single detail within the moment. 

This was one of those moments.

She wanted to focus on the bed, soft material, caky and cloudy beneath her, but it was difficult to ignore the mass behind her. His nose poking into the top of her head, nuzzling in her hair, a good measurement of knowing how close his teeth were to her neck as heavy breaths ran down her neck like a chilling breeze, ticklish and disturbing like crawling mites. His chest, rising, pushing into her back, the beating of his heart rattling her ribcage. His hands, large and so very warm, warmer than they were supposed to be, scathed like sandpaper as they scratched in their presence by rubbing her hip, arms slung around her body haphazardly, caging her, suffocating her, pulling her close, holding her steady, trapping her. 

Like a dragon protecting his treasure, she thought, but quickly discarded of the notion. It sounded too sweet. 

Katsuki wasn’t sweet.

He’d come home yesterday, coated in smog, droplets of blood flecked on his sand-skin in no particular pattern. He didn't shower, he’d only grabbed her and walked off to bed. No words shared, only whimpers and dark, disturbing chuckles. She’d struggled, as much as she could against the brute, but it felt as though he enjoyed that more. Tightening his hold until she swore she began to hear her bones ache, bristle as he squeezed the air from out of her lungs. 

She was happy she was spared his painful cock that night, but she was sure it would be a short-lived mercy.

His hold; though still strong, wasn’t as tight in the morning. She took it as an opportunity to create more space between herself and the fever-heat and blinding smell of caramel. She almost wished she could smell the blood and smoke instead, something bitter to disrupt the sickening sweet. She wished she could smell anything else, but even the smell of herself was overcome by him. She’d walked around the house thinking of it the other day, how it was almost as though he’d scented her, as though they were animals.

He didn’t take lightly to the disturbing of his slumber, grunting and growling, stirring that overbearing sense of fear inside her gut, her stomach folding in every possible way. She didn’t want to stop, she wanted to fight, she wanted to roar. He tightened his arms around her, squeezed her hip, planting her ass better against his crotch and she froze.

He smacked his tongue against his teeth. “Now what?” He coaxed. She expected his voice to sound groggy in the morning, but she’d learned in the past days, it never shed its ugly tone. “You gonna cry?” His voice sounding almost hopeful as he bit down on her earlobe, earning a gasp that along the way turned into a delicious little whimper. She tried clawing at his hand, his own nails digging into her skin. “Do yourself a favor and relax” All his taunting, patronizing overbearing words, dismissive to her discomfort, rather enjoying it, if only she could see the cracked smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. She kept struggling despite the obvious futility. “Yer’ not going anywhere, yer’ exactly where you need to be... exactly where you belong.” His tone was casual as he sucked in a breath, sighing with a grumbling growl, still sleepy, yawning behind her, comfortable when squeezing her plushie little form, keeping her close like child with a teddybear. 

But he wasn't enjoying how her legs were kicking, despite the rest of her struggles being teasingly pleasurable.

Pushed down on her back, manhandled into position, he made to move himself between her thighs. Now, with more mistaken freedom, she tried pushing him away. Foolish fists hit against the stiff muscles of his chest, until he grabbed them by the wrists and pinned them above her head. His face so much closer now, but he didn’t kiss her, still longing to hear her speak up, to beg, to plead, to scream. But he remained close, knowing how every one of his words made her heart beat that much faster, and how those especially crude words made her quiver or better yet bleat, like a little lamb beneath him.

“Come on…” He hauled out. She barely made out the words, as far hidden in the growl as they were. His voice tickling her burning ear, his head resting its heavy weight on her arm. “I know I’ve been busy, but…” He spoke as though she wanted to spend more time with him. “It’s my day off.” His voice in singsong, as if she’d be excited, the tone sounding dreadful and wrong when coming from him, dark as it was. But it earned him what he’d been wanting, that soft and struggled sniffle, breath caught in her throat, an uncontrolled shiver breaking the sweet feeble noise.

Content with what he’d reduced her to, he rested his head on the pillow beside her face, his weight laid down upon her in a lifedraining fashion. He hummed, closing his eyes, enjoying her small frame beneath him. In her rightful place, he snickered. Eyes fluttering to look at her pretty face, hand covered in dried blood and smoke as it ascended to tug a lock of hair behind her ear, his thumb stroking over her lips when he made to retract it. The state of his skin made him cringe when he touched the fairness of her complexion. It felt wrong, he admitted. 

They needed to find an even ground.

“Let’s shower, I’m dirty.” She could feel his lips on her ear now, but she was too shell-shocked to snap her head away, knowing what was coming.

In all honesty, she wouldn’t mind a shower. She’d been there a while and didn’t exactly feel clean with him spread, smeared all over her, inside her. But, he’d insisted on being so very close at all times, she was sure the same rules would apply in the shower. 

She tried her best to fight, but it was all so easy to simply grab her arm and pull her with him, yanking on her like a child with a toy. Throwing her inside the large bathroom, with strength that almost had her falling to her knees.

“Take yer’ clothes off.” He commanded, having her backed up against the cold tiles of the walls. “Or… they’re not really your clothes.” He tugged at the black fabric of his shirt, one she’d put on after realizing her own clothes were far from wearable anymore, singed as they were.

Towering over her petite shape, enjoying how she had to tilt her head a drastic degree to stare up at him. 

She was so tiny, it sent pleasurable shivers down his spine to look at her, small like a little pet. His shirt hung around her in the same way you’d expect a tent would, reaching all the way down to her knees, only barely fitting on her narrow shoulders.

She wanted to sound strong. “N- no.” It came out weak.

Snickering, he placed a hand on the wall beside her head. “I was hoping you’d say that…” His smile was so feral, she began wondering if smiles were ever a nice gesture in the first place. Katsuki seemed to do it simply to show her those large teeth stored in his mouth, teeth that could rip her throat out if he were dedicated enough. “Better you learn sooner than later just how helpless you are to stop me getting what I want.” He leaned in closer, stepping further into her space, threatening to crush her toes under the soles of his feet, his much too hot breaths striking her face on repeat. “Weak.” He spat the word, as though it were venom on his tongue. “Defenseless.” It disgusted him, distaste clear in the growl lacing his tone. “Fragile.” 

He’d not gotten exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to scream, whether it was of rage or of fear, didn’t really matter. The tears were no less satisfying though, dribbling down her cheeks, eyes glossy and sparkling.

He grabbed the collar of the t-shirt. She felt the pull, but the tear still came as a surprise. The ripped fabric, now reduced to useless singed rags, pooling around her ankles, and she found herself regretting her wish to smell smoke because the burn of the textile at her feet was not the type of bitter like morning coffee, but bitter in the way that made her eyes sting. Her knees almost gave out when his hand neared her again, his other hand placed above her head, meaning to cage her in between his warmth and the freezing wall behind her. 

Her nipples perked at once when he made contact, which made him smile, hand still hot, much too hot. He cupped one breast in his hand, much too small to fill it entirely. He didn’t seem to mind though.

“So soft…” The disdainful tone was gone, but she found herself missing it as opposed to what lingered in his voice now. “So delicate.” Lust was so terribly more frightening than his distaste. “So…” He licked his lips, a hot breath fanned over her face and goosebumps sprung to the surface of her skin. He hummed in response and she was sure she might just faint. “So sensitive.” She yelped when he pinched. “Mine.” His voice was low and rumbling, hot like raked coals. Tugging down her bottoms as well, she did little to prevent it. 

Not that it would have mattered if she did.

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

[miyaagis]

demon lover

+ pairing. incubus! oikawa / fem reader / incubus! kuroo

+ genre. dark, smut

+ word c. 2,378

+ warnings. snuff, dub/non con, implied somnophilia and stalking, facial, choking, fellatio, creampie

+ author n. part 2 of monster. there are some references from it, but u should be able to understand the story even if u didn’t read that one before :)

it has been around five weeks since your encounter with oikawa and you’ve felt restless ever since.

it doesn’t matter where you are —on the streets, at uni, even in your own bathroom— there’s always an unsettling feeling of being watched.

but the nights are worse.

as soon as you close your eyes, images of him smirking down at you plague your mind and dreams. he’s repeatedly having his way with you, fucking you and making you come over and over again until you wake up. leaving you sore and wide awake for the rest of the night.

the days go by and it’s as if your energy is being sucked out of you, not even coffee nor energy drinks are able to keep you awake and away from the haunting dreams.

your body feels weak, you are weak. your fragile-looking body, covered in bruises and dull, sunken eyes easily attract looks of concern from your friends and family. but what’s most concerning it’s the fact that even if you’re restless, you keep thinking about that night.

your body and soul ache for him and you wonder if it’ll take another year until you can see him again.

it’s not until you’re at your weakest, delirious, and on the verge of insanity when he shows up. or at least that’s what you hope, being unable to distinguish your dreams from reality anymore.

“you’ve been such a good girl,” he coos in your ear, stroking your hair out of your face and leaning closer, “have you been waiting for me?”

you nod frantically, whimpering when his lips touch your cheek. he shuts you up with his mouth, his thumbs grazing the skin of your cheekbones and making you melt.

the blissful state you’re in vanishes when an unknown pair of hands start removing your clothes.

your eyes widen, trying to get a look at the intruder but oikawa keeps your face fixed on him with a strong grip on your jaw.

“i brought a friend, hope you don’t mind.”

you take a peek over his shoulder, and your eyes meet a pair of menacing ones. you recognize him immediately as oikawa’s friend from the party —another demon.

“hello, kitten. don’t mind me; i just had to see with my own eyes the pretty pussy that he has been bragging about.”

the dark-haired demon’s lips curl up in a smirk when he sees the troubled look on your face. but it’s true, oikawa hasn’t shut up about you so it's reasonable kuroo asked him to share.

his hands roam over your legs, forcing them open and keeping a firm grip on them when you try resisting him. he takes his cock out of his pants with one hand and lines it up with your entrance, marveling at the sight of your folds.

“oh and you can call me master too.”

he slides in without warning nor prepping you, the burn of your walls stretching as they make room for his cock bringing tears to your eyes.

you don’t want him. it should be oikawa, not him.

“s-stop, please,” you whine, looking at oikawa when kuroo refuses to acknowledge your pleas. but his eyes harden, a dark look taking over his features.

“don’t be rude to our guest and shut up.”

his words break your heart, tears now falling freely down your cheeks as you keep being fucked by the other demon.

“shit, kitten. i can barely fit inside your pussy. let me stretch you out, yeah?” kuroo groans as he keeps forcing his way inside your walls, his girth finally sheathing in and causing him to breath out in relief, “that’s it, sweetheart.”

“isn’t she amazing?” oikawa smiles brightly at his friend, craning his neck to the side to observe your pussy being abused by kuroo’s cock, “the neediest cunt i’ve ever had.”

you clench involuntarily at oikawa’s words which make kuroo groan.

his hand slaps your thigh only to grab a handful of it and squeeze it, “i knew you’d love my cock.”

you’re about to protest when kuroo places your legs over his shoulders and leans forward, resting his upper weight on top of you.

“no! wait– please. too much! ‘s too much, please!” you try to push him away, your nails digging into the skin of his forearms but your desperate wails fall on deaf ears.

kuroo’s pace is relentless, every graze of his cock against your snug walls feels like fire.

your eyes lock with oikawa’s, he looks pleased —much to your dismay— and you feel your heart drop when he catches you staring and smiles.

“enjoying yourself?”

a cry escapes from your lips when kuroo picks up his pace, the distinctive sound of his cock thrusting inside your pussy taking over the bedroom.

“fuck, shut up. you’re getting annoying,” kuroo groans but you’re way too preoccupied with the pain to register his words.

you keep sobbing your heart out, your desperate cries getting louder as he continues his assault on you.

his large hand suddenly covers your mouth, concealing your sounds and making your eyes widen.

“i told you to shut the fuck up, stupid whore!”

“can you control yourself and not kill her before i get a turn?” oikawa’s irritated tone reaches your ears, “you always do this.”

the tears refuse to stop, kuroo’s actions plus oikawa’s words wounding you both physically and emotionally.

“i’m close, fuck– so close,” kuroo’s grunts in your ear, the snap of his hips picking up its pace as he draws to his end. 

a few thrusts later and he’s finally reaching his high, emptying himself inside of you. his cock pulses as it pumps his cum inside your raw walls, moaning in relief at the way they wrap around him.

once he lets go of you, you curl up around yourself. your soft cries are the only audible thing in your bedroom, pain tugging at your heartstrings as the weight of what just happened falls on you. you’re so lost in your own suffering that you miss the quiet sound of clothes rustling.

it’s not until oikawa’s familiar scent reaches your nose that you look up —teary-eyed and with your eyelashes wet with tears— and observe as he crawls up his way on top of you.

“will you be good to your master?” he asks while wiping your tears away, pouting at you mockingly.

“please,” you don’t even know what you’re asking for, your mind too hazy and your body too weak to comprehend what's going on around you. 

but he goes in anyway.

his hard cock enters you easily, sliding in thanks to kuroo’s cum still coating your insides and bottoms out almost instantly.

“shit, it feels way better when you’re awake.” 

he starts a slow pace, basking in the feeling. his hands start kneading your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh under his fingers, and then running the pads of his thumbs over your nipples.

the sensation has you involuntarily gushing around his cock, wet sounds starting to echo around the room and prompting kuroo to lazily stroke his hardening cock again.

“naughty kitten, you want more don’t you?” a devious look takes over kuroo’s features, but he instantly dismisses your presence by turning to oikawa instead, “does she give good head?”

“why don’t you–hah, see for yourself,” oikawa struggles through his words, brows furrowing in pleasure as his hips collide against yours.

kuroo wastes no time, making his way next to your head while his hand keeps pumping at his now fully erect cock. the weight of it falls on your parted lips, running the leaking head over them and coating them with pre-cum.

you’re not given a warning, kuroo’s fingers get a tight hold on your jaw and force it open so he can slide in, the head poking at your inner cheek and making it bulge out in an obscene way.

“there you go, kitten. you are way better when you shut up,” he smirks down at you, thrusting up into your mouth, “all you needed was my fat cock.”

drool leaks out of your mouth but at this point, you don’t care anymore. you are drained, basically a corpse for them to fuck and fill with their semen.

you have a hard time trying to focus your vision on the demons before you, your head throbbing at the lack of energy. but it only gets worse when you feel a pair of hands fumbling around your throat.

“if only you could see how fucking gorgeous you look right now,” oikawa praises you as his hands wrap a collar around your neck, almost moaning at the sight underneath him, “my good girl, do you like your master’s cock?”

the leather fabric tightens around your neck, the leash allowing oikawa to jerk your head up and making kuroo’s cock slide out of your mouth in the process.

“oi! don’t hog her!”

your groggy brain barely registers them arguing over who gets to control you.

“shut the fuck up. i found her first,” oikawa tries to get his point across by lifting your legs over his shoulders and pounding even harder, your whimpers turning louder at the new position. 

“but you’re fucking her cunt! at least give me control over her head!”

oikawa’s too busy thrusting his cock inside your plush walls that he eventually gives in. once the leash falls on kuroo’s hands, he wastes no time and pulls your face towards him, making you gag around his cock.

your muscles contract at the intrusion which only heightens the blissful feeling, transmitting waves of pleasure through his body.

“ah fuck, i can feel her trying to suck my cum out of me. such a cum-thirsty whore.”

what both demons miss, it's the way your face starts to turn purple. the tight grip of the collar plus kuroo’s tugging at the leash preventing the air from reaching your lungs.

with the last bits of energy you've left, you try to rip the collar off of you. your hands desperately claw at the material as your eyes widen in realization of what will come next if you’re unable to free yourself from their grip.

but your actions seem to anger kuroo, who growls and drops the leash only to grab you by your head and shove your face all the way down his length.

you start to choke, his thick girth taking so much space in your mouth and when you try to take a deep breath through your nose, he pushes in even more. coughs erupt from your chest, his pre-cum and your saliva reaching your lungs while dark spots start to cloud your vision. their voices sound far away, numbness taking over your body as you start growing dizzy and a violaceous hue tints the skin of your face at the lack of oxygen.

both demons pay no mind, too busy chasing their ends to notice how you’ve stopped fighting them. their moans echo freely all over the room, the lewd sounds of their cocks abusing your holes bringing a sense of hunger to them.

“shit, baby you feel so good. i’m gonna cum in your sweet, needy cunt and fill you with it m’kay?” oikawa announces, his orgasm rapidly approaching and inciting him to thrust harder, getting lost in the way your walls rub against his twitching cock.

kuroo lets out a low groan as he finally cums in your mouth, pulling out just enough to paint your face with it and smear it all over your lips. he sighs in relief, smiling at the sight of your pretty face covered in his sticky cum. the way it sticks to your eyelashes and drips down your face to your parted lips etching itself on his mind.

he can’t remember the last time he had such an erotic sight. 

but when he notices a lack of movement from you after a minute, he couldn't help but curse out loud. thankfully, it goes unnoticed by oikawa since his moans got louder, his own orgasm sending shivers down his body and causing him to lose focus on his surroundings for a while.

“ngh– fuck,” oikawa spills inside your pussy, his cock throbbing as load after load pumps out of him and fills you to the brim.

his eyes are closed, breaths ragged as he basks in the afterglow of his orgasm. it’s not until he opens them to admire your fucked out face when he finally finds out.

he’s confused for a moment before it dawns on him. he slaps your thigh gently, calling out your name in a futile attempt to get you to answer him back.

“sweetheart, this isn’t funny.”

but as he turns to face kuroo in search of an explanation, one look at him is enough to answer his question. 

“i swear i didn’t mean to!”

a nervous-looking kuroo, fully clothed by now, stands awkwardly by the door. he’s well aware he fucked up—big time.

“fucking hell!” oikawa rakes his fingers through his hair in exasperation, “did i not tell you to control yourself?!”

he can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness since he did grow a liking to you thanks to his nocturn visits. but the sentiment quickly fades away when his eyes fall on your form once again. a pleased smile appears on his handsome face as he takes in the sight of your legs spread wide open, his cum seeping out of your pussy.

“she remembered how much i like this,” he coos to himself, plunging one finger between your folds and smearing the fluids.

he’s so lost on you that he doesn’t notice kuroo disappearing from your room and leaving him behind—not like he cares. his hands reach out to smooth out your hair, traveling down the side of your face and stroking the skin of your cheeks with his long fingers. 

you look so peaceful, so pretty, covered in their fluids, and with the choker still adorning your neck.

the nostalgic feeling returns, tugging at his heart and prompting a gentle smile to take over his lips. with a kiss on your forehead and then one on your lips, oikawa finally bids his goodbyes.

“don’t worry, baby girl. i have a spot in hell saved just for you.”