#tense and coiled in the first and then open and vulnerable in the second

[dollypopup]

the fact that in the first moving poster, we have Penelope angry and upset at Colin, closed off, pulling into herself, and he is yearning for her and confused, just wanting to reach out and touch her and knowing he can't do so because of the walls between them, so he grabs his own wrist, and he holds back, and they're both more on edge for it

and in the second, we have him breaking that barrier to gently trace along the edge of her neckline, softly whispering over her skin, and she reaches up to hold him in place, as though to say 'stay, don't pull away', melting into him as he leans into her, and he even lifts his fingers to wrap around hers as she holds on because the distance they had wasn't serving either of them positively. almost as if, only when they're together, anchored into one another, can they fully open up

one might even say they

unfurl

like a flower in bloom

[rubytotherebellion]

An Explorative Exam

Kix/Reader

Tags: Medical Kink, Gloves, Dom/Sub Undertones, Praise Kink, Est Rel, Pre-Negotiated Scenario, Touch of Aftercare

18+ ONLY

Warm breath, cool hands, the wet between your thighs. Hungry eyes, yet a gentle touch. Cold lips, contrasting soft caresses. 

There’s want there, a deep desire to make you feel. Press your buttons, finesse your body’s interface, a perfectionist at work. 

He’s everything you could possibly need. An amalgamation of tenderness, technique, and tenacity. He molds himself for you, seeking out your wants, gradually pin-pointing each place, each subtle motion that makes you tick. 

It’s not the first time you’ve engaged in this scenario, he indulges your fantasies so easily, slides into the role like he was made for it. Hells, he actually was. 

“Need you to lay all the way back for me sweetheart…that’s it, all the way down.” 

Your back hits the padded table, knees up in the air, tense, poised for what’s to come. But also carrying an uncertainty that always comes with leaving yourself vulnerable. 

Callused fingers stroke your thighs, thumbs soothing circles across your taught muscles. A shiver slithers its way down your spine, curling around the need coiled at your center. 

“Need you to relax for me hun, it’ll be much easier if you’re not so tense.” 

The sensation of his experienced hands holding you in place grounds you. Reassures you that you’re safe, that he’s got you. 

“Alright…” The breath escapes your lips in an almost inaudible sigh, whispering your pent reservations out into the void. 

“There you go, easy does it, love.” He gently taps the inside of each thigh, indicating where he wants you to move, “I need you to open up a little more, give me some room to work.” 

Melting into his firm touches, letting yourself be positioned, limbs fluidly stretching and bending to accommodate his seated form between your legs. You want to be good for him. Pliable in his hold, letting yourself be spread open before him like an antique chest, baring the treasured contents for his perusal. 

The thought of him examining your core, gaze raking over the most intimate parts of you, trained eyes calculating the most clinical way to torment you—causes a gasp of anticipation and pure lust to crawl its way up your throat. 

“We’re just going to take a quick look, and make sure everything’s in working order…” 

A loud snap.

A pulsing jolt to your senses sends an electrifying pattern rippling across your skin. It’s a stark reminder of your completely naked body. Your head bolts upward from the table, eyes wide.

He’s there, close, right between your spread thighs still. Hands in the air, poised—stretching the second glove on. 

His eyes meet yours. 

Something devilish, the need to toy with you, all the while maintaining a calm, professional facade. It revs your internal engine of desire like nothing else. If it was an actual piece of machinery it would have caught fire by now. 

He snaps the other glove on, reaching one of the protected hands forward to rest it on your stomach, dragging the material across the expanse of bare skin until it stops, pressing into your pelvic bone.

And then he squeezes. 

You can’t hold back the moan. 

He knows how much you love those gloves, knows how the sensation of their tacky texture on your skin excites you, has you dripping all over his carefully wrapped table, leaving unseemly splotches of your essence. 

He leaves his hand there, squeezing, then pats you a few times, as if reassuring a wary massifs.

“Don’t want to make a mess now, do we?” 

You shake your head wildly back and forth, “No Sir…” It’s an exhale as well as an exaltation. He wants to know you’re giving him control, letting him lead you and recognizing that leadership. You’re giving him the power here, and he’ll swoop it up happily, and gratify you substantially for your submission. 

Maybe you're a pushover, but you like it when he takes the lead. Maybe it’s old hat, but it satisfies your wanton fancies like nothing else can. 

“Now lay back, and let me do my job.” He brings his other hand to rest on the opposite side of your pelvis, pressing both covered palms down, encouraging you to do as he’s instructed. 

It leaves little room for discussion, and a shudder of anticipation racks you, the first pricks of perspiration tickle the curve of your lower back. Lowering your shoulders and head back down onto the table, your lust swoon mind emptying of all other thoughts. There’s only the pressure of his warm hands, the shameful slick trickling from your entrance, and the cold air of the sterile room pebbling your skin. 

Everything else can wait. Everything else quiets. 

When he speaks again, his tone is deeper, huskier, low notes of velvet and spice. Forcing your head to remain against the table is a fraught battle, drawn to his voice like a blossom to the sun. 

“Relax. Just going to have a look, let me know if you feel any discomfort…”

You find it impossible to form coherent speech as his hands drag down from your hips so slow, it might as well be torture. The fingers coast over your inner thighs, teasing inward, framing your sex on both sides. 

He presses, then pulls outward, spreading you open, the dampness of your core catches the cold air, spiking your gut with thrill. He can see everything like this. Guilty of envy for his touch, your sentence is about to be delivered. 

And gods above, let it be a cruel punishment. Please. 

“Hm…seems like overproduction of lubrication, given the lack of stimuli. We’ll need to take a closer look at that.” 

Two large fingers drag across your opening, starting at the very bottom, working their way to the top, dipping into your folds, dragging through the wetness. It’s as if he’s about to taste the topping of a delicate desert.

You hope to sith hells he does. 

The two digits reach the top of your slit, barely brushing over the swelling bundle of nerves. A gentle caress, yet volts of pleasure crackle up your spine, a furnace igniting at your core. He’s just knocked the ignition switch with the casualness of a part-time mechanic. 

Your whole body quakes, breathy keen elicited from the simplest of touches. The buildup having brought you to the brink already. But he’s not going to give it to you so easily. 

After all, a good medic…takes his time. 

“Kix…” Despite all your resistance, despite your desire to remain immersed in the fantasy, your lips betray your want, begging, singing praise for your medic like a goddamn choir. 

A low laugh, and a kiss to your thigh forgive your exclamation, “It’s a delicate process, patience sweetheart.” 

You're whining now, shamelessly. 

“Going to have to get a feel of what’s going on…inside. You’re going to feel a little pressure.” 

The two fingers tracing your opening, slip down, seek the right angle, and then breach your entrance. It’s like finally getting air after holding your breath for too long. 

Stars form behind your eyelids when you blink, little specks of gold and silver bursts. The gloves are coated in your slick, but the material still catches on your walls, an odd gripping sensation. The traction, coupled with the entire scenario, his calm explanations—it’s coming to a head. 

He pumps them into you deep, spurring a cocoon of heat to form in your abdomen. The fingers curl, seeking your most sensitive spot, pressing even farther into you. 

You gasp, choking on air, and your legs reflexively pull inwards, muscles reacting to the tension in your center, the pleasure pulsing through your nerves. 

His elbows hold them back, “Keep your legs out.”

He’s pumping in and out of you slow, but hard and deep, using his free hand to hold you spread open. 

“Need to open you up a bit more, you’re going to feel some more pressure…” 

A third finger crooks its way up and presses inside. The stretch has you gasping, his broad hands a blessing of incomparable wealth. It breaches your entrance, joining the other digits in pumping you full. Any discomfort is overwhelmed by the pleasure it brings with it, and the slide comes easier now, your wetness bleeding out around his fingers. 

“Easy hun, just like that. There we go.” His voice is steady, instructions uttered without any hesitation or doubt. It feeds your want like kindling. 

“Please…” You can’t take it anymore. 

“You’re doing so well. I’m going to add a little more stimulation.” 

His other hand which had been previously spreading you, slides upwards towards the point of aching need. Two fingers dare to court the crux of your pleasure, masterfully pulling back the hood, and baring the throbbing bud. 

Everything goes silent inside your mind, the languid thrusts of his fingers fade, and the sloppy sounds of your arousal pale, leaving only the moment of pure anticipation.

“Hold the table if you need to—” He purrs, and this time it doesn’t sound like the medic, exuding smug deviousness and satisfaction. It’s Kix now, and he’s very pleased with his work. 

His thumb runs across the swollen bundle, and you lose the ability to comprehend.

White hot pleasure zips across your body, limbs clamping up, fingers seeking purchase on something, anything. You grip the edges of the table like he told you, nails clawing at the padding, mouth agape as if to scream, but no sound comes out. 

He circles you, tracing patterns back and forth, and it’s icy hot ecstasy, mind gone blank with the strength of your climax. He’d worked you over slowly. Letting your peak build with everything but what you actually needed to come. All it took was him pressing the final button to push you over the edge. 

And he’s not just pressing the button, he’s holding it down. And you’ve gone into overdrive. His fingers are still thrusting into you, but fast and hard now, and he’s not going to stop until you exhaust every single drop of pleasure left in your body and mind. 

“So good for me, love…that’s it, let it all out.” He praises you, as your body thrashes against the table. 

It just keeps going, and you’re gulping for oxygen that seems to have exited all the air around you, leaving you incapable of drawing breath. 

Your core is on fire, throbbing, pulsing along with his thrusts, pricking ever so slightly with the pain of overstimulation. 

Finally, you’re released from your silent scream, and your muscles acquit you. Falling with a shuddering slap back onto the table, catching up on the breaths you couldn’t take, limbs curling up into yourself, swaddled in the aftershock of bliss. 

He ever so slowly slides his fingers out of you, letting your shaking legs close, gloves hands leaving a shiny trail behind as they withdraw. 

You hear him moving, the sound of shuffling and the snap of gloves being removed and tossed. It’s only a quick moment until he’s standing beside the table. 

“Hey sweetheart, how do you feel?” He leans down and cups the side of your face, angling it up to meet your eyes. 

You’re utterly spent, pleasantly shattered by his ministrations. Body still racked by the tremors of his touches. He leans down, shading you with his broad form, and lands a delicate kiss on your forehead. It’s soft, sweet, warm, brimming with appreciation and love. The kiss of a partner, and not a clinician. He’s back to his usual self. 

“You did so well.” He whispers into your ear, shivers, and tingling trails of leftover desire coast across the back of your neck. Fine hairs still standing on end. 

You can feel his breath catch, what could be a gentle laugh, “You also made such a mess, going to put down extra protection before your next appointment.”  You groan in resignation and helplessness, it’s less about shame, and more about wanting round two. 

“You may feel the after effects for a few hours, but that’s nothing to worry about.” 

Glancing upwards, mirthful brown eyes meet yours and you manage a stuttering laugh. 

He’s going to be the end of you, and you’re absolutely fine with that. 

[thefvrious]

@ghostsxagain  sent -> “ look at me. “   for santiago's reaction to miki grabbing him by the chin and forcing him to look at miki during a tense / highly emotional moment. 

When Santiago's mamá had passed away, it had been a devastating blow that had led him on a path of destruction that was still coiling around him like a cyclone even ten years later. Over time, the pain had lessened. It was no longer that sharp, shooting ache every day; there was no more fumbled attempts to dial her number and hear her voice. Mostly, he found that life continued with or without her. As much as that sucked, he couldn't let shit stand still.

The first few years had been hardest. Now, on the tenth anniversary, Stantiago expected to be passed this, but he couldn't control when or how the pain came nor how hard it hit. Instead of facing any of his siblings or his father, he buried himself in the club. When there was nothing to be done, he climbed up to the roof of the clubhouse and sat, blunt burning between his fingers. He couldn't even remember what she smelled like anymore, the musical sound of her laughter -- all of it was slipping away from him like water through open hands.

His heart clenched in his chest and his jaw mirrored it. He angrily swiped away a tear, "What the fuck." Santi said to himself taking another desperate drag off the blunt, stiffening slightly when a much larger shadow cast itself over him, blocking the heat of the sun from behind.

Neither of them said anything for a minute, and Santi didn't need to guess who it was. He could smell Miki, would recognize him even in death. Silently, the younger man was looking for ways off the roof that would cause the least damage. The second he pushed himself up, though, Miki was waiting, and he grabbed Santiago by his jaw, twisting Santi's face around so he had no choice but to look at el presidente. Why did setting eyes on that face make him hurt more? Why'd it make him feel more vulnerable?

"Don't." He said, setting his jaw again but making no attempt to run or otherwise get away from Miguel's grasp. Maybe he was comfortable like this. Santiago's dark eyes were brimming with tears he was refusing to let fall, his teeth gnashing against each other to help in the effort. "Just give me something to do, Miki."

[sipsteainanxiety]

maybe one where the reader comforts him after he has a nightmare ?

sometimes, katsuki had nightmares.

they weren't entirely obvious at first. there were days where you noticed he had bags under his eyes, but he always gruffly brushed them off as being a result of pro-hero work. the lingering sense of unease and way he startled easily in the mornings were also something you were wary of, but he told you he was just tired from his patrols. you were concerned, but there wasn't really anything you could do about it if it was related to hero work. and you trusted him to tell you if it ever became too much for him.

but he never did, and you soon realized he'd been lying to you.

one night, when you were both tucked comfortably in your shared bed, you woke up for no reason whatsoever. you were curled on your side, facing the dark wall, wondering why you had blinked yourself awake. you could feel the warmth of katsuki's body besides you, hear the way he steadily breathed in and out, in and out. it was comforting, listening to him, and you eventually found yourself drifting back off into your dreams.

that is, until katsuki jerked abruptly in his sleep.

your eyes snapped open, his body jostling yours as his arm twitched by his side. you blinked blearily and turned your head around to peer at him, wondering if he was awake or not. what you saw made you sit up slightly, shifting around so you could hover gently over his face.

his eyebrows were scrunched up, angled towards his hairline. his lips were tugged downwards in a frown, trembling almost minutely in a way that made your chest hurt. the angles of his cheeks glistened in the dewy lighting of the moon. your breathing nearly stopped as you watched his expression, the way his eyes squeezed tight.

"katsuki," you whispered softly, quietly, as you ran your fingers along his cheeks, tracing his smooth skin. he didn't respond, still tensed up even as you dried his face and started running a hand through his spiky hair. you could see the way one of his hands gripped onto the white sheets of your bed, straining the material. you were starting to worry, a troublesome little thing that manifested itself in the depths of your heart.

he made a choked sound then, and you hushed him gently, shifting up so you could hold his face in your palms. you could see beads of sweat starting to gather on his forehead, smell that familiar burnt caramel scent of his quirk. his body jerked again, muscles of his arms coiling dangerously as he muttered something undecipherable. your thumbs roamed along the skin under his eyes, collecting the tears that'd still gathered there.

"katsu," you tried again, louder this time, when his expression didn't smooth over. his breathing was starting to pick up, and you leaned closer, noses nearly touching as you drummed at his cheeks with your fingers. "katsuki."

his eyes snapped open, hands shooting up to grab at your wrists. his palms were hot and for a split second, you were frozen, watching as his gaze latched onto your own. you could tell he was still chasing away the remnants of his dream, his pupils tiny as he stared up at you unseeingly.

"what-" he choked out, blinking a few times before you saw his pupils dilate. his eyebrows relaxed only a smidgen, hands gripping onto you for dear life.

"baby," you said quietly, still wiping away the tears on his face. "what's wrong?"

he did nothing but look at you, tracing over the planes of your cheeks with his eyes. there was something about the way he stared at you, something vulnerable in the way he nearly appeared to be relying on your touch, your gaze, to cement him to the world. his hands relaxed around your wrists, holding them in a loose manner. he exhaled slowly.

"s'nothin'," he soon grunted out, closing his eyes. his head eased back into the pillow beneath him. you frowned, though he could not see it. he just looked so tired, you noticed, exhaustion lining his features and making him seem like he was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"it's not nothing," you told him, letting go of his face at last and slipping your wrists from his hold. his eyes opened again at the loss of your touch, crimson gaze following you as you shifted so you could lay back down on your side, facing him. "wanna talk about it?"

he looked like he was contemplating it for a second, staring up at the ceiling that danced with the fickle shadows of night. like this, his hair looked almost ghostly, framed with moonlight from the open window of your shared room.

when he simply shook his head, you nodded, letting yourself sink back down completely into the blankets and pillows. he immediately rolled over onto his side, throwing a heavy arm over your waist. you took that as a sign to shift closer, nestling your face into his chest as he buried his nose into your hair.

"you know i'm always here if you need me, right?" you whispered into his torso, your arm wrapping around him so you could hold him tighter. closer. you pretended not to notice the way his grip around you increased, as though if he so willed it, he could meld your body into his forever.

"yeah," he whispered back just as quietly, burrowing himself further into everything that made up you. "i know."

read this if you want something similar to this request!

[introloves]

anon: okay so i just went through (the entirety) of your bokuto tag and lemme just say, boxer! bokuto??? yeah top tier. you just KNOW that every time he wins he wraps that medal round your neck and makes you watch in the mirror as he uses it to choke you and keep your head up and eyes on his while he absolutely rails you. shit after fights you’d look just as bruised as him.

— boxer! bokuto + marking + choking + pain + possessive! bokuto + overstimulation + size kink + bokuto calls reader ‘puppy’ + cream pie + f! reader

— word count; 2k

— boxerverse! bokuto: one shot no. 2

he’s trembling, high strung with the adrenaline that still hasn’t left him. it’s funny seeing him whine for your attention, someone so big and muscular like him looking absolutely destroyed when you give him a stern look against his kisses.

it’s so very apparent in the way he handles you that hes looking at you to help him come down.

“bo, calm down.” you pant, trying to push his hands away, its a futile attempt to keep his wandering fingers away from your pants. its like he’s magnetized to the waistband of them, digits twitch when you slap them down.

he’s big, strong, a finely tuned machine built for taking hits and giving them back like a bullet but your rejection makes him pout.

there’s a twist of pain in your chest when he gets like this, but he needs to rest.

despite everything, he acts like its just been another day, but it hasn’t even been two hours since his last fight. theres a bruise painting his lip, another one against his brow, red splotches litter his sides and stomach but he shakes your prying hands off thick wrists, fingers hooking into your waistband and pulling them down to your thighs. he looks up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. waiting for the okay he knows is inevitably going to come.

“fine, but if i see you wince, we’re stopping.” you sigh, smiling at the absolute beam of teeth and curled lips he gives you.

he’s so fast, peeling off every bit of clothing you had worn tonight. he had to have you, needed it like he needed that win.

a win that he already has, now he just needs you.

you cant deny that his excitement isn’t making you wet, he’s like a god above you, vying for your attention and body. he was truly glorious tonight, muscles taut and coiled as he bounced along the white canvas. biceps curled and ready for his opening to land one of his signature right hooks. he takes every hit against his body like it’s nothing, completely unfazed by his opponent. at one point during the match he taunted them, dropping his arms and baring his teeth, just waiting for the fight to truly get good. it makes you squirm, he could be so intimidating, watching like a predator for any opening, any hole in the opponents defense.

your body flushes in memory of watching him land that final hit, he sees the way your thighs squish together. groaning at the thought that your body was responding to his advances, surely knowing by memory how good he fucks you.

your bo always looks so strong and powerful. no matter where he is, whether he’s fighting or when he’s trapping you against those strong arms.

it makes you sigh at the pure determination he’s dripping in, rolling your eyes as he gives you a once over, wiggling his eyebrows at you, torso stretching to reach something from the bedside table, canines flashing as he shows you his newest trophy. its a devious look, proud eyes glinting down at you.

you feel that you can read his mind, about to tell him that, no you won’t fuck him while he’s wearing it, but he lowers it over your head, giving you a bigger smile as the heavy and cold metal lands right between your tits.

“that looks real good on you.” he finally says, abs contracting with the pangs of arousal crawling up his neck. he flinches just a bit at the soreness there, he’s a little more beat up than usual, but hides it well. if there’s anything he needs other than rest, its to fuck you dizzy.

he thinks he might be a total meat head with just how much he likes the image of you wearing something he worked so hard to win, a primal heat licking at the arousal also flaring inside him. you’re really truly his, bokuto can see it in your eyes, regarding him like hes strung the moon up in the sky.

you belong to him, just as he does you. just like that shiny medal you’re wearing.

the bed creaks under his weight when he leans down to kiss you, hand grabbing your face, keeping you right where he wants you. tongue immediately slipping past your lips, pulling a cute whine. he’s sloppy with it, teeth bumping against your own, spit trailing down the corner of both your mouths. when he pulls away, your eyes cross to watch the string of spit connecting the both of you.

he swipes his tongue out and catches it, mumbling something when he sees you reach for him.

“sit back.” you realize he says a little late, snapped out of the haze by the gentle tap of his index finger against your cheek.

koutarou makes a show to peel the rash guard he was wearing under his shorts off. his creamy, muscled thighs finally grace your vision. it makes your body temperature rise several degrees at once, the hot flash only encouraged when you see his dick lying pretty against his thigh. you reach for him, but the advance is stopped by his hands, he doesnt say anything but grips your wrists a little tighter.

your gaze moves from his purpled knuckles up to his eyes, the amber there looks just a tad bit cooler and you immediately know it’s going to be a bad day for you tomorrow.

“want you on your tummy.” bokuto states, and you listen.

waiting for his hands to grip your hips, but he lags just a little. turning your head to look at him you ask if everything’s okay,

“you remember our safe word?” he inquires, and you nod, blanching just a little. his words send a prickle of fear down your spine, you suddenly feel very vulnerable and exposed.

“well, what is it?”

bokutos hand comes down to grip your shoulder, huffing against your ear. theres a small pull there, bringing your shoulders back to meet him halfway.

“j-juice.”

he’s right there, waiting for the last syllable to leave your lips, poking the head of his dick against your cunt. it leaves you breathless, smooth, velvet skin leaving a wet trail of precum right on your clit.

it makes you exhale out a high pitched keen, unable to stop it from tumbling out a little louder than expected.

the whine has him purring, humming out a, “good girl.”

there’s nothing in the world that you can compare the way he splits you open. the first stroke is always careful, makes sure youre nice and relaxed, wet enough to take him. you always are of course, how could you not with the way he holds you, pulling you back by your shoulders, making your back bend as much as it can, the twist of your body like that makes for a real tight squeeze, feels like the already limited room inside your cunt is cut back to an absolute zero.

it should hurt, but you’ve taken him enough that hes practically carved the shape of him into your pussy.

he has you nice and compliant under his hands, head thrown back to leave the most fucked out sounds of pure ecstasy rattle through your lungs and into the room.

he can feel the chemistry, something akin to electricity, between the two of you. if he could form into words what its like when you lean agasint him, completely trusting him to take care of you, to make you feel good, he’d fill a book up- and pocket it to reread over and over.

bokuto releases you, letting your shoulders fall forward gently before reaching around and pulling the, now, warm metal from between your body and the bed.

it catches you by surprise when he gives it a tug, the silk cutting into your prominent veins, making you go weak and dizzy.

if you couldn’t think or talk before he was doing this, you definitely weren’t going to be able to while he was.

your hands find the pillows above you for leverage, biting down onto your lip when he begins a brutal pace against your hips. hes pinned you down onto the bed with his mass, not even letting you arch your hips to give him better access to your cunt.

“ghh, kou- kou feels good.” you cry, taking an index finger into your mouth to bite, theres not a spot on your body where you dont feel him, so big above you, you can feel the press of his dick in your throat.

“i know it does puppy.” he grits out, still biting back the pain that each brutal contact against your body brings him. hes got the stamina, the sweat hes broken out thus far isnt too bad, but the position and the way hes taking you- hand still holding onto that precious medal- is taking a toll on him.

he knows he needs to make you cum fast.

and knowing his sweet baby, the way to do that is to rough you up just a bit. it’s real endearing.

the silk burns just a little when he shifts behind you, making sure to keep a good grip on it- you dont connect the dots of what hes preparing to do, not until he pulls back.

you’re mid scream before he cuts you off, tears forming in your eyes against the rasp and wheeze of your breathing. the tension around your throat isnt forceful enough to cut your oxygen off completely, it just leaves you wheezing and gives you a nice haze to your vision.

you’ve tensed up completely, knees locking, hands gripping the pillow above you for dear life.

the reaction from you makes him shake, you can feel the stutter of his hips, hearing the high whine leave his throat, he powers through it. he clashes his teeth together and snarls, blinking back stars when he speeds up.

“c’mon, cum. cum for me, puppy.” bokuto grunts.

its not like you to not listen, as soon as his words leave his mouth, you’re closing your eyes.

you’ve gone limp for a second, and bokuto truly fears that hes overdone it, he drops the grip he has on his trophy, about to stop everything, but then your tremors start.

your legs, still pinned down between his own, shake. he sees your cute little hands slap the pillow and swallows deeply. you’re silent- but he can hear the echoes of moans that want to leave your throat thanks to your open mouth and head that’s thrown back. it takes you two seconds before you seem to flicker back to life,

“ghhhh, hhhh! koutarou, kou!” his name is the first coherent thing that leaves your mouth, and he swears there’s nothing better. he cant compare you to winning a match, knocking out his opponent in a KO- because seeing you like this, hearing you scream his name like that would win every time.

he’d like to comment on how eagerly you’re milking his cock, but the pulsing of your cunt around his fat, big dick does him in.

there’s no time to pull out, wasn’t planning on it anyways, but the squeezing of you againts him, leaking your cum down to the base of him, wetting his pubes with you, also leaves no room for it.

it’s obscene, the squelching sounds of his pistoning, cumming cock, creaming your insides white, all the while pushing it out of your cunt with every thrust.

it splatters against your ass and his thighs, white globs of it stick against the two of you while he rides out the throbbing. there’s nothing more satisfying than filling you up, a deep tingle nipping at the base of his skull when he thinks about his cum kept warm in your cunt.

this is what finally tires him out. the tremor and twitching of his strong arms visible when he reaches down and pulls his limp dick from you, he saves you the pain of his weight crushing against your already fragile body by plopping down beside you, you jump up on the bed with the force of his weight collapsing beside you.

the sticky heat is no match for his eagerness to hold you after it all. you slot against his front easily, almost completely dwarfed by his frame.

“‘re you proud ‘fme.” he slurs against your neck, trapping his thigh between your legs. he shivers when he feels the mess of his own cum smear absolutely everywhere.

your hand comes down to rest over his arms, protectively secured around your torso.

“always. i love you so much.” you whisper back, voice just a tiny bit raspy and sore.

“mm, loveyoumore.”

he’s out before you can count to ten, hearing you say that puts a smile on his face while his breathing evens out behind you.

you take the lightest of touches to the bruises on his knuckles, your koutarou truly was something else. while he sought out your validation, you basked in the glory and security of someone as grand as him holding you tight.

[just-a-little-cellist]

Hey, I just read your Levi alphabet headcanons and they were so good!! So in relationship to that I was wondering if you could write a sub! Levi fic with a humiliation kink. No pressure, and I love your writing :)

A/N: ah thank you so much! I'm really happy that you like my stuff!! ok sorry this has taken a while but I didn't want to mess this up, I've had so much fun writing this one and it turned out way longer than I expected :) hope you enjoy it!! sub levi is my fav so :P

warnings: nsfw content, d/s dynamic, dom reader, use of 'mistress' but aside from that reader's gender isn't specified, light bondage, crying, humiliation kink :)

You always seemed to know.

You could read him like an open book, and it surprised him every single time. You knew him better than anyone, sometimes better than himself. You could see straight through him, and there was no hiding from that.

Today was no different. It was written in his stiff demeanor, his unusually icy glare, the harsh bite of his words, everything about him expressing that he was on edge much more so than normal. Although he could always relax slightly more when it was just the two of you, today he hadn't yet dropped his cold facade for even a second.

Having had some free time for once in your busy life, you were sat in the armchair in the comfort of your bedroom, nestled in the corner with a book in your hands. Levi had unfortunately been called into a last-minute meeting, much to your dismay, so you waited patiently until he got back.

You heard the slam of the door shutting as he got in and looked up to see him enter, but it was a shock to see the scowl on his face. On any other day the smile you greeted him with would be reciprocated (even if it was only subtle), however that seemed beyond reach considering his bad mood. Your book was quickly discarded.

"Levi? What's wrong?"

Not bothering to look up at you as he roughly tugged his shoes off, he muttered, "Got given a fuck ton of paperwork to finish by the end of the week, plus I've got to watch over the shitty brats from the 104th tomorrow."

You gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry sweetheart. You still have today off though, don't you?"

"Yeah, but if I don't start this work now it won't get finished on time."

"You're going to overwork yourself. Take some time off."

He glared at you, anger smothering his features. "You think it's that easy? You think I don't want a day off? I've got shit to do, I can't just take breaks when I feel like it! Just fuck off and let me work!"

The second the words left his mouth and he saw the way you were looking at him, a wave of guilt washed over him.

"I...I..." He looked away. "Shit..."

Standing from the chair and walking in front of him, you gently took his hand, causing his eyes to flicker up and meet yours. "Levi, look at me. I understand that you're stressed, believe me, but I'm just wary of your wellbeing. You're human too, and even Humanity's Strongest needs a break sometimes." You pressed a finger to his lips when he went to protest. "Think about this logically. If you work non-stop, then you won't be able to concentrate as well, will you? Plus, if you fall behind a little with paperwork, I'm always here to help. I don't mind doing extra if it helps you out. Do you understand?"

"I... don't want to be a burden on you."

"You aren't burdening me if I'm offering."

He nodded, then looked down. "I didn't mean to yell at you." His voice grew smaller, a telltale sign he was nervous. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Levi. I know it wasn't intentional."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, though quickly suppressed it.

"What is it?" You had a vague idea, since the same thing happened quite a lot when he was pent-up, but you wanted to be sure.

"It's nothing."

"Tell me."

"I just thought..." His cheeks got warmer and he mumbled, "Maybe we could try that thing we talked about?"

You cupped his face in your hand. "Are you sure you're up for it at the minute?"

"I need to... I need you to help me let go... just for a bit..."

"Ok then, if you're certain." You kissed his cheek. "I'm going to go and fetch a couple of things, stay put."

Levi stood in the middle of your shared bedroom, hands fidgeting in anticipation as he waited for you to return. This was a jump from what your dynamic usually was, but he desperately wanted to try it and you had happily obliged.

You soon returned, locking the door behind you, holding a neat coil of rope and something else that Levi couldn't quite see.

"This is new for us, so I'm not going to go overboard right away. Is that ok?"

Levi took a deep breath. "Mhm..."

"Remind me what your safe words are."

"Amber to slow down, red to stop everything, and hum the melody if I can't speak."

You smiled. "Good boy."

Placing your equipment on the table beside you, you sat down in the armchair and watched him for a moment, still fidgeting and not quite sure what to do with himself.

"Strip," you commanded, lacing dominance into your tone.

Levi blushed and began taking his clothes off, laying each article on the bed until he was completely naked. He stood before you, feeling incredibly exposed and subtly trying to cover himself.

You shook your head in disapproval. "You know better than that. Hands behind your back."

He hesitantly complied, now unable to hide his rapidly growing arousal, and his face flushed a deeper shade of red.

"Kneel." You gestured to the space in front of you and he followed. "Tell me why we're doing this."

He swallowed nervously. "Because I was mean to you."

"That's right. You took your feelings out on me, so we're going to fix that, hm?"

He nodded.

"Use your words."

"Yes mistress..."

"Good boy." You leaned closer, picking up the thing that Levi hadn't yet seen. "Open your mouth."

He did as you asked and soon found out what the object was. You fastened the ball gag securely and looked down at Levi, smirking at the sight. His eyes were wide as he grew accustomed to the foreign feeling, but he couldn't conceal the interested twitch of his cock in response to it.

"You're so pretty like this. Stand up, turn around, and keep your hands behind your back."

Once again following your directions ever so obediently, you picked up the coil of rope and bound his wrists together, before trailing your fingers over his hips. Levi shivered in arousal and tried not to lean into the touch. You knew how sensitive he was, particularly around that area, so you continued to focus your attention to his hips and his inner thighs; all too soon he was tense and shaking, and the second you pulled away he whined from the loss of contact.

"Patience." You turned him around to face you and leant back in the chair, patting your thigh in invitation. "Come here." He stepped closer, unsure of how to proceed, so you gripped his hips and pulled him down to straddle your leg. He whimpered at the sudden pressure on his cock.

"Do you want to cum tonight, sweetheart?"

Levi nodded eagerly.

"After your behavior today, you're going to have to earn it."

Seeing Levi's curious expression, you stroked one finger up his length, making him buck forwards into your touch.

"You're going to get yourself off on my leg, and I'm going to watch, understood?"

He nodded again, whining as you pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"Good. Don't keep me waiting."

Levi wasted no time in grinding down against your thigh, immediately moaning around the gag at the feel of your rough denim jeans against his sensitive cock. It seemed that just having him in such a position was more than enough to get him worked up - your dynamic before had been rather gentle, with only a small power imbalance, so it was a sudden shift to now be in this position, with yourself fully clothed but with Levi naked, bound, and entirely at your disposal.

As you watched Levi rut desperately against you, you thought back to the moment he asked to try this. He told you that he wanted to be used, helpless, humiliated, although he had been rather shy about it to begin with. With the words almost failing to come out, he blushed deeply when you suggested trying it for the first time. You promised it would be a surprise, to keep him on edge with the anticipation and add to the experience when it finally happened, and you certainly hadn't disappointed him if his moans were any indication.

Every thrust of his hips teased him closer to the edge, and as much as you loved to touch Levi usually, this had to be something he did on his own. Knowing that this was all because of his own intense desire, that it wasn't you controlling his movements, that it was his decision to act like a bitch in heat, would only make his feelings of shame more pressing.

You never took your eyes off him for one second, content in the knowledge that it made him feel just that bit more vulnerable, until you glanced at the mirror mounted on the adjacent wall. Levi had clearly forgotten it was there in his pleasure-induced stupor, so you decided that it wouldn't hurt to remind him.

Gripping his chin carefully, you tilted his head to the side so he could see exactly what he looked like in that moment; the mirror was at the perfect angle to reflect every single thing he was doing, all his wanton desperation captured in that perfect image. Although he flushed red in humiliation, he couldn't bring himself to stop his actions, being forced to look himself in the eyes as he rode your leg, and he whimpered in embarrassment as he drooled around the ball gag.

"Look at you, Levi. You're pathetic, aren't you?"

His movements never faltered, but tears began to well up in his eyes as you kept him facing the mirror.

"Imagine if everyone else could see this, hm? Their mighty captain reduced to a needy little slut..."

He sobbed, droplets rolling down his face, and sped up, nearing his high.

"Do you need to cum, Levi?"

A frantic nod in response.

"Do you deserve it? Do you think you've earned it?"

More nodding.

"And you've learnt your lesson?"

A nod and a pitiful whine.

"Very good. Cum for me, Levi."

Tears streaming down his face, Levi moaned as he reached his peak and came with a sharp cry, the sensations all becoming too much for him to bear. He trembled as he came down again, panting and leaning forward to rest his head on your shoulder.

"You've done so well for me, sweetheart," You cooed, reaching behind him to unfasten the gag and untie the rope, putting them both back on the table and taking Levi's hands. He looked up at you and you wiped his tears. "How are you feeling?"

Still catching his breath, he nodded, pressing his forehead against yours. "It... it was really good."

"Not too much?" you questioned, stroking his hair.

"It was perfect... thank you mistress..."

"I'm glad. Now let's get cleaned up, then we can rest. Does that sound alright?"

"Mhm..." Levi smiled lazily and nuzzled against your neck. "As long as I'm with you."

[valentina-writes]

Craving

A/N: Sorry, that I haven't posted in quite a while! I was lacking motivation a little bit and had a ton of other stuff to do. This one here was not requested, but the idea for it was stuck in my head for a couple days now and I couldn't concentrate on writing anything else. I will probably write some of the open requests soon.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: light smut (only a few paragraphs)

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„Come on, Y/N, we‘re waiting for you!”. Cassian’s voice is calling out to you from the dance floor. Behind him, you spot Mor, looking seriously offended you’re leaving her alone and instead sitting in a corner of Rita’s with a not even half-finished drink in your hand. Rhys and Feyre must be here somewhere too.

Even Azriel is on the dance floor, a rare sight. You can’t help but stare at him, the way his wings glow faintly in the glimmering lights of the club. His body that moves so flawlessly to the rhythm, so unlike the movements you are used to see him perform when training.

Fingers entangled in your hair, the hot feeling of his lips on yours. His voice in your ear, telling you he would take you slowly.

You shake your head as if to get rid of the memory, but still blush as Azriel’s gaze meets yours for a second.

“I’m sorry guys, but I don’t feel like dancing today”, you excuse yourself. That being said, you set down your glass and quickly escape out into the night.

Inhaling the cold air slowly, you try to calm down. It’s not his fault, you remind yourself, that you can’t seem to get over him. That you start thinking in an inappropriate way as soon as your eyes meet.

His lips met your neck, kissing and sucking on it. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, your body begging for him to come closer. As his kisses travel downward you cannot help but moan out his name.

“Y/N is everything okay?”, Mor calls out to you. The fantasy in your head is gone, leaving you restless, yearning for him.

“Yes, I’m fine”, you say, not looking up.

“No, you’re not and you know that”. She’s close enough to see your face now. “What’s wrong?”, she asks. Her eyes soften as she hugs you. Mor must have seen your despair.

“I- it’s nothing, really”. At her strict look, you wince a little bit. You want to tell her. But it’s just so embarrassing.

“I had sex. With Azriel”, you start over, taking a deep breath. But before you can continue, she exclaims: “By the Mother, that’s awesome! When? Why didn’t you tell me?”.

A tear builds up in your eye and before you know it, you’re crying into her shoulder.

“It- it… it was a couple years ago”, you finally manage to say. By now all you can really feel is embarrassment. “And it’s not awesome. Well, it was. But-“. You start sobbing again.

“It was a one-night stand. He… acts as if nothing ever happened, but I can’t stop thinking about it and whenever he looks at me, I-“. You stop talking. It sounds absolutely idiotic, even to you.

But Mor doesn’t look bewildered. Instead, she hugs you even tighter, rubbing your back slightly.

“What happens then, sweetie?”, she asks.

Sighing, you gulp down your embarrassment: “I miss him. A lot. He’s still there, of course. But afterwards he stopped talking to me the way he did before. We’re not as close anymore. And above all I not only miss our friendship …”, your cheeks heat up again, “Since him I’ve never had sex THAT good again, so I stopped having any altogether. And now I’m not only missing him and kind of into him, I’m also sexually frustrated and lonely”.

You did have sex with other males in the succeeding weeks. But none of them had been able to give you the same feeling he did. That indescribable feeling of closure and … being loved. Even though he most likely didn’t love you, because it took him a month to even look at you again.

Mor’s face is a mix of amusement and empathy: “Like… no sex in years? For a guy who fucked you so good but then what? Ignored you? Even though there was this feeling that nobody else could give you?”. You nod, and she actually starts laughing. “Honey, if you weren’t that sad it would be hilarious, because it sure as hell sounds like he’s your mate”.

Your entire world shifts in that moment.

Your sweaty bodies are tangled in his sheets, gasping for air. Azriel’s shadows swirling around you, purring in your ears. With his final thrust, the world around you seems to fade away. There’s just him and you, for a second you don’t even know where his body ends and yours begins anymore.

Shocked, you look at her. “I… that kind of makes sense? But he would’ve talked to me then, wouldn’t he? I … I’m so confused right now”.

Your thoughts are running wild. Was this the reason he ignored you? Because he was overwhelmed? Was he waiting for you to make the first step? Or… Or was he not interested in the bond and wanted to reject it?

“Y/N? Mor? Is everything alright? Rhys told me to look after you, you’ve been gone for quite a while now”. You quickly wipe away your tears at Azriel’s voice. What should you tell him?

Mor winks at you, already making her way back towards the entrance: “Everything alright, shadowsinger. You might want to stay and talk to Y/N for a second though”.

And just like that, Mor vanishes, leaving me alone with Azriel. His wings are slightly shuffling behind his back and his gaze on me looks worried.

“So, uhm what did Mor mean?”. His shadows are coiling closely around his arms, showing how uncomfortable he is.

You inhale slowly, making sense of your thoughts. You find no good solution, so you just decide to start at the beginning.

“A couple of years ago we… after a celebration for you when you came home from a mission we had sex. Do you remember?”. It was almost painful to say this while watching him. Not only was the atmosphere incredibly tense, but also the possibility of him actually having forgotten about it made you sad.

He frowned a little, “I do remember, Y/N. Quite well, actually. But I don’t get what you’re trying to tell me”. For a second, you believe to see a certain hunger in his eyes. An expression you had only seen once on him before.

Nodding, you continue, “There was this… this feeling back then. Something I’ve never felt before. And nobody else has been able to make me feel the same way. I told Mor about it…”

You can’t finish your sentence, he cuts in sharply, “Why are you telling Mor this after years?”. And to himself, almost inaudible, he murmurs, “Don’t think about the other males”. The anger on his face is devastating.

You are absolutely terrified, but know you have to tell him. So, you muster up all of your courage and speek the words aloud that had been on your mind ever since, “Because I am in love with you. Because I don’t know what I should do about this, as you’re so distant all the time. And I cannot take this anymore, I miss you. I hate seeing you with other females. When I can’t fall asleep I think about this connection I felt that night”.

The pure shock on his face quickly gives way to a broad smile. “And what Mor meant is that… when I talked to her and described that feeling to her, she said we are most probably mates”. The last word is purely a whisper hanging in the air between you two. Mates.

And then, without hesitation, he begins to talk. “The first time I felt the bond was about two weeks before that night, when I said goodbye to you before that mission. It was so painful to leave you behind…”

“Hold up, you knew of the bond?”, you question him. Guilt creeps upon his face. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you ignore me for weeks after we had sex? Do you know what this did to me? All these years and you didn’t bother to just talk to me?”. Hot tears again spill over your cheeks.

He comes closer, as to wipe your tears away, but you back away.

“Y/N, I thought you didn’t want the bond. That you rejected it. Or worse, that it was only one-sided, because I couldn’t feel you across it. Rhys told me that the safest way to know was to just sleep with you, because then the bond normally clears up, but it didn’t work. At least I thought so”. The look on his face is pleading, but still, all you feel is anger and loneliness.

“So you only slept with me because Rhys told you so?”.

“No! I did it, because I love you and wanted you, truly. I still wished that the mating bond would reveal itself. And when I thought that it hadn’t worked, I couldn’t bear to be around you. I was so angry at the Cauldron, because I felt unworthy. Again. Imagine being in my situation. Having a mate, but the bond not working completely, the other person unaware of what’s going on! I did what I had to do to protect myself”.

The vulnerability in his statement catches you absolutely off guard. A small smile formed on your face, as you walk a few steps towards him.

“Maybe we weren’t ready back then. Maybe it kept us waiting, because it knew we would need the time to work things out”, you suggest, closing the distance between you and him.

His eyes twinkle in the starlight, as he lowers his head, “Well, there’s only one way of finding out”, he says as he cradles your head in his hands. Slowly, he comes closer and closer, until you can’t endure the tension anymore and slam your lips on his.

His lips are velvet on yours, only intensifying the kiss after a few seconds. He holds himself back, almost painfully so. But you are yearning for him, for his touch. And as you licked his lower lip and he grants you access to his mouth, you felt it again. The euphoria racing through your veins. And as you kept kissing, it was as if a fog lifts itself and all of a sudden you can feel him, not only against your body, but also against your soul, interlocking with it.

He must have felt the same thing, as we both gasp for air almost at the same time. Azriel’s mouth twists into a smile as he kisses me again. His wings are now wrapped around you, obscuring you from any passers-by.

“I’ve waited 500 years to find you, my mate”, he says. The word echoing through me. Mate. Mate. Mate. You still can’t believe this is actually happening, as you send a wave of love across the bond. “But I would have waited 500 more for you. For this moment alone”.

At this, you kiss him again, unable to express your emotions any other way. “Let’s end this journey how we began it, shall we? With me in your bed”.

[ronanwolff]

Loki, god of Mischief

Content Warning- 18+ smut, swearing, submissive Loki, oral(f), fluff

Summary: Short story. Enemies to lovers arc-  You’ve always wanted to prove that you were not just some stray Frigga took in as a child and now, your chance has come. You’ve been given a mission, one that will prove you are the powerful witch you claim to be, but it seems there is someone to disrupt the plan, and we know how much he loves to cause mischief. 

Months. I had gone over the plan and trained for months, and it had all been for nothing because of him. I strode through the halls with angry purpose as I thought of all the ways I would make him suffer, and when I heard his voice—that familiar chuckle, the anger in me morphed into fury. I marched up to him and removed the rein on my anger as I pushed him. Loki’s green eyes twinkled with amusement as he regarded me, and I could almost hear the words that were about to leave his parted lips.

Why so upset little princess?

And so, I stopped him. I made sure I didn’t hear those words that would soften me, those words that would leave my mouth dry and leave other parts of me wet to my annoyance and denial.

“You traitorous bastard!” I snapped at him. “Blithering idiot.” My chest heaved underneath my armour as I tried to get my breath out. “That was my mission and you ruined it. My chance to prove my worth to Odin and Frigga.” I continued, and I felt the magic brewing in me and wanting to be let out. My skin bristled and the rage within me began to tear at the well-kept seams.

“It sounds like you’re angry with me, but you know me, I like causing mischief…dare I say you need some of it.” He said to me in a low tone as he watched me, sensing just how tense I was. He leaned forward and I caught his eyes briefly fall below my nose and land on my lips. I inwardly cursed whoever among the gods had decided to burden me with the man who stood proudly before me. It had to be a curse because no matter what he did, my true feelings would never change. I tried to hide the bobbing of my throat as I swallowed and without thinking, I raised my hand and struck him across the face. I panted again and stepped back, awaiting his reaction but I was surprised when Loki turned his face to me with a mischievous smile. It was that smile that was all knowing, especially towards my feelings. It’s like he knew how he made me feel. His jaw tensed as he moved closer. “Did that make you feel good?”

“Go to Hel Loki” I hissed as I begun to walk away, he grabbed my arm and suddenly his lips were on mine. I was ashamed to admit that I had been dreaming of this moment for a while and now that it had become a reality, it did not disappoint. I felt the flush in my skin and the feeling of loosening in my limbs. Every bit of tension seeped away as his lips melded into mine. Rage turned into passion and unbridled emotion seemed to escape from me. It was only when I moaned that I remembered where I was and what I was doing. I pulled back sharply and slapped him again, but once again it didn’t have the desired affect because he only chuckled at me and gave me that same smile before pulling me closer. His eyes seemingly glowed underneath the light of the fires around us and mine glowed back in response. A light blue glow that I saw in his own eyes.

“I want you.” I finally breathed in a tone that had never escaped my lips. It was breathy and needy, and the vulnerability seemed to take him aback; it took me by surprise, and yet, he drew a breath and looked at me intently. His hand moved from my arm to my face.

“I’m yours.”

I didn’t let him say anymore, I only crashed my lips back into his, tasting the sweetness of the words he had just said. In fact, I had tasted no sweeter fruit than that of his lips and I knew in the moment his hands held my face and pulled me closer to him, I would want no other thing but him. We moved until my back was against the pillar and I grunted as the impact took my breath away. I had forgotten the injuries I had sustained, and I was sure that bruises would have started to mark my skin. “Are you alright?” Loki asked with concern. His kisses had stolen my breath and I could only nod at him. He stared at me, his eyes studying every inch of exposed skin on my body, but I lifted his chin and made him look at me.

“I’m fine, just kiss me.” I ordered and the grin returned to his face. That beautiful face. Loki Laufeyson, god of mischief was the most beautiful god I had ever seen.

“Yes. Always yes.” He panted as he returned to my lips. His hands surveyed my body, feeling and tracing every curve as he wrapped my legs around his hips. I didn’t know what to do with my own hands, but they seemed to take on a mind of their own as they worked their way through the dark mirth of his hair. My moan echoed in the halls around us and so did his hiss as he inhaled my scent. His face was buried in my neck, nipping at my skin painfully but it was fuelling me until a loud clang sounded around us. The gates.

“LOKI!”

Thor’s booming voice was unmistakable. I had no doubt he had questions for his brother over the failed mission or me. I hoped it was the former. I couldn’t stand before the All father and the council, not like this.

“Gods,” I sighed, trying to ignore the burning heat of my body but it would not dissipate. I wanted more of him, and I could tell he felt the same away as he quietly cursed. He turned his body towards the voice, but I held him close to me. “No. I’m not done with you yet Loki Laufeyson.” I pictured our destination and within a few seconds we were there. My chambers. I ignored the feeling of strain through my body at the use of my magic and I looked at the man who stood before me and for a moment, I didn’t know what to do or say.

“Tell me what you want.” He whispered and like that, a bolt of Odin’s lightning seemingly hit me. I had heard things about what he liked when it came to being intimate, but I had never thought it was true. He had always seemed so…sure, a master of control and yet here he was, staring at me like I was the brightest star in the sky, and he was waiting for me.

“Take off your clothes.”

He gave an amused huff at my command, but he obeyed, unclipping the daggers slowly from his waist before moving on to his gauntlets, and he was purposeful and slow in the movements of his long fingers. I swallowed as the gauntlets fell to the floor, leaving his hands and forearms bare and he then moved to his chest, unclipping the fastening of the leather of his armour and I gasped as he peeled it off his body and exposed his chest.

“Do you want me to continue?” He asked in that low husky tone that made me forget who I was and where I was. I shook my head after a moment and tried to find my words.

“Kneel.” Was all I said. It was the first word that came to me because it was the first word that returned to my mind, and it was also the first word he had said to me when we first met. I remembered it clearly as he held the sceptre under my chin as he made me look at him. He smirked as if he too was reminded of that exact moment. He then slowly sank to his knees, keeping his eyes on me as he straightened his back and laid his hands flat on his covered thighs. His muscles flexed as he positioned himself.

I didn’t need words to know what he was doing. He was submitting to me. Me, who was less than him, lower than him. I had grown up in Asgard knowing my place until Loki came along and made me question everything, I thought I knew. I was not a god and yet, here he was treating me like I was. I did the same as him. I slowly moved my fingers over my gauntlets, undoing them and then I moved to the protective armour on my chest. Once that was over with, I was left only in my corset and undergarments. I shook away that all familiar feeling of my power being loosed as the conduit of my armour fell away— something Frigga had constructed for me, and while I would be eternally thankful to her for such a creation, it was a breath of relief when my power was free to snake and coil within me. 

Before I could reach behind, there was a spark of green in the corner of my eye and then hands that touched the bare skin of my shoulders and trailed their way to the ties of my corset. Loki remained still in front of me, but there was a playful smile on his lips. I gasped at the phantom touch as he unwound the ties whilst placing kisses on my skin and soon enough, I was bare in front of him, and I had never felt more glorious. The hunger in his eyes turned the usual green of his irises to almost black as he bit his bottom lip. I had never seen someone filled with wanting and so I took cautious steps until I was close enough to feel his breath on my skin. I could feel his eyes like fingers trailing up my body until he reached my eyes, and he was almost panting. His eyes were big and filled with need as he waited on my next command and a part of me loved seeing him hang onto my every word and instruction.

“Kiss me.” I finally said and I expected a quick and fast approach, but he surprised me. He moved slowly towards me, and he kept his eyes on mine as he kissed the skin of my stomach, and the feeling almost broke me. It seemed he had inherited his adoptive father’s abilities because I could have sworn, I felt lightning pass through my body. My head fell back, and I let out a breathless gasp as he continued his relentless assault of my lower body, placing kisses everywhere but that part of me that craved it the most. I let my legs fall open slightly to give him a hint, but he didn’t oblige me. “Please.” I gasped as I clutched his hair.

“You have to tell me exactly what you want.”

I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks. I had never been nervous around men, and yet, he almost brought me to my knees. His eyes caught the shaking of my hands and he brought them to his lips, kissing away the tremble of them.

“I want you to kiss me…there.” I told him with more confidence, and he thankfully granted me my wish as he put his lips to the core of me. My knees buckled with every flick of his tongue and my hands held his own which he rested on my waist. I tried to bite back my moan, but when he moved his hand to cup my breast, I failed, gasping loudly. I was about to fall off the cliff of euphoria when he pulled away. I looked down at him. “Don’t stop.” I told him and he chuckled in response. His eye twinkled as he winked at me.

“I want to savour every moment of this, princess. I want when you moan, for all the nine realms to hear you praise my name.”

“You are so vain.” I said breathlessly, but I couldn’t help the smile that appeared on my face as I looked down at him. He was beautiful. I touched his face, memorising the angles of his jaw and the feel of his black hair. The green of his eyes. “That is what you like is it not? Seeing a god on his knees for you. Worshipping at the temple that is your body. Admit it, you like having control just as much as I like relinquishing it.” He whispered before he kissed me again. I whimpered under his lips. “You are my only god, the only one I will go to my knees for. Do you understand?”

I nodded absentmindedly and suddenly I was in his arms, but not for long because he laid me gently on the bed. He trailed kisses up the skin of my leg, biting when he could and his eyes remained solely on me, seemingly also memorising my every reaction. His normally neat black hair was now frazzled from my hands. I pulled his face to mine impatiently and kissed him while my hand wondered his lean body. I made quick work of his trousers pushing them halfway and my hands fondled the skin of his backside whilst his lips marked every bit of skin that surrounded my chest. I mumbled my approval as my body settled into his touch. He pulled away from me and I had to resist the urge to groan in impatience, but from the way he looked at me, with his green eyes so earnest and sincere. The gaze made me pause.

“You don’t have to prove your worth to me.”

The words hit me in a way that almost surpassed what he had been doing to me thus far. He used his fingers to caress my lips before kissing me again and I didn’t realise there were tears in my eyes until I felt them spill over my skin and without breaking the connection of his lips to mine, he wiped the tears away.

“I want you. I need you.”  I panted and he swallowed my words with a deep kiss before biting my lip and pulling it. My eyes caught a brief glimpse of what lay in wait for me between his legs and I took a sharp breath in. I had seen all manner of men, but none were compared to the god before me and as my eyes dropped back down again, I joked to myself. I guess he is part giant 

Loki smiled as he followed my eyeline and the smile morphed into a small laugh, it was almost as if he had read my mind. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as I turned away from him, but he brought my face back and leaned forward, except it wasn’t to kiss me. I felt his breath tickle the skin of my ear, a feeling which sent a shiver through my naked body. “I will be gentle, I promise.”  

I pulled him towards me and knowing what I wanted, he granted my request as he pushed into me, gently. My head lulled back as I got used to him. The feeling was alien at first but as I started to move against him, I began to crave more of him. He moved over me, and I relished every feeling and movement. I had watched him train several times, even fought him, and he was incredibly skilled; skills which went beyond combat it seemed. Every movement he made was poised and graceful, purposeful, and steering. It was almost like a dance, his body firm and yet fluid beneath the feel of my hands. He knew when to take the lead and when to step back. His lips never left mine or my skin and his hands held me, grabbed me, and soothed me.

It’s like I wasn’t in control of my body when I turned him over so that I was on top of him. I gave him a smile as I put his hands behind his head and kissed him. I wanted to worship him just as he worshipped me, he deserved venerate adoration. I slowly sank onto him and just remained still even as he fumbled for movement. It only took for me to shake my head and he stilled underneath me. I was in control and the feeling of it was magnificent. As I gave him a nod, he thrust into me and groaned in pleasure, and I heard the slightest whisper of my name. I let go of his hands, but before he could move, I replaced my hands with my magic, binding his wrists above him with blue energy. I rested my hands on his chest and closed my eyes, enjoying the combined feeling of him inside me, and the feeling of my unrestrained power, which burst forth from me in gratitude for having released it—having used it fully even if it was for decadent purposes. I could feel his eyes on me, watching me please myself and I could sense the smile of satisfaction.

“I need to touch you.” He said hoarsely and I only nodded, loosening my magic and he reacted immediately, sitting up and holding me closer to him. I gasped at the difference in feeling, and the presence of his hand on my throat. He kissed me deeply, using his teeth on the sensitive skin of my neck and shoulder. I circled my hands around his neck and then made my way to his back, while his hand reached between my legs. I choked at the intensity of the feeling and for a moment, I just looked at him. I loved this man. I wouldn’t be able to say those words out loud, but I loved him despite his flaws and deception and his affinity to push me towards murderous tendencies, I had come to know the man behind the god, the lost and misplaced boy who just wanted to belong to something...or someone. I wanted that too, and as he carried on moving again, I could swear I was about explode into stars.

“Loki.” I gasped as I finally fell off that cliff. I dragged my nails across his skin causing him to hiss, but he brought my lips to his again. I felt endless, not just stars, but a whole universe of galaxies and realms. When sensation returned to me, I could still feel him moving within me, building up to his own finish. I felt guilty for not doing more than planting lazy kisses on the skin of his face, but as I gave into the feeling of sensitivity where he continued to move, I moaned his name once more. He grunted as he held me close to him. His teeth bit into the skin of my shoulder once more as he gasped, shielding my body before giving me back the breath I had lost.

I watched him as he slept, he seemed more at peace with his eyes closed and the small rise and fall of his chest. He seemed more vulnerable. I pushed a strand of his hair away and smiled at him before controlling myself.

He’s a god, a prince, a son of Odin and you’re…nothing. A simple warrior. I thought as I got up gently, trying not to wake him up. I quickly got dressed, fastening my gauntlets and guards before looking at him once more. I moved closer to him and kissed him softly once.

“I love you.” I whispered, before leaving the room.

[mythiccheroacademia]

A Dip in the Hot Tub

A/N: Sooooo, I wasn’t originally going to participate in kinktober in any way, but so many blogs inspired me to do something. Even if it’s one thing. So here I am sinning™️.  I wanna start writing for haikyuu, so this is my experimental fic. I wrote it with my two favs so I hope got the characters somewhat right. I hope y’all enjoy this and happy kinktober <3

Pairing: Bokuto x Fem!Reader x Kuroo Word Count: 2k Context: You’re a volleyball player (you choose the school) that caught the eye of the Fukurōdani and Nekoma volleyball team’s captains. They’ve expressed their interest, but you don’t believe it. Now they’ve cornered you and won’t leave until they’ve convinced you of their feelings in a way you can’t deny. 

All characters are 18+

Warnings: sexual content aka dry humping, fingering, threesomes without p*nis to v*gina penetration...but it is later implied, cursing

A Dip in the Hot Tub

The private hot tub was supposed to be relaxing treat. And it was. At first.

That was until you realized you were in the water with two insanely aggravated (read: jealous) men who had recently expressed their attraction to you. And your dumb ass only believed them after seeing their reaction when they caught Oikawa flirting with you.

You admittedly had an ego boost under the power you felt in that moment. Now, with Bokuto and Kuroo sitting across from you, displeasure in their gazes, you were filled with anxiety.

Or was that excitement?

You decided to stay on your side, legs tightly bound together.

“Uhh, so the first day of camp went well,” you said, attempting to make conversation.

“Yeah.”

“Sure.”

Wow. Okay.

“Tough crowd,” you muttered. You tried again. “Um, have any plans for the rest of the evening?”

“Not really.”

Then, it was crickets.

You nodded, giving up. You can take a hint.

“Okay, well, obviously I’m not wanted here so I’ll just take my leave—”

“No, wait.” You felt your body tense as Kuroo put his hand on your shoulder. His brown eyes were rigid, but not with anger. It was something more vulnerable. However, he looked away before you could decipher it.

“Kuroo…” you whispered.

“Stay. We didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcomed,” he said.

You stared at him for a second before looking over to Bokuto who still looked…emo…but didn’t seem to make any protest. Despite your apprehension, you let the dark-haired man slowly pull you back down into the water.

“Okay,” you breathed.

You hadn’t realized just how hurt they’d be. Your own insecurities made you believe there was no possible way both of your crushes were interested in you. However, that didn’t give you a right to mess with their feelings like you did. You were grown enough to know better.

Sucking in your pride, you apologized.

“Hey. Tetsu, Tarō. I’m sorry,” you quietly spoke. You looked down at your hands in embarrassment. “I was wrong to not take your feelings seriously. I just…I just couldn’t believe that you two liked someone like me more than a friend. Especially when I um like you two aswell. So, I’m sorry if that really turned you off. I wouldn’t blame you.”

What was said next totally caught you off guard.

“You really don’t understand how much we want you, do you?”

Your eyes snapped up to see a pair of golden irises closing in on you. You couldn’t get the chance to wonder how Bokuto got so close to you because the intensity of his gaze made you blank out.

“Huh?” you dumbly said.

His hands readily found your waist before running down your hips, fingering the laces of your bottoms before finding purchase on your thighs. “Even though I’m incredibly pissed off at you, all I can think about is how much I wanna fuck you right now.”

The way his eyes rolled down your body made goosebumps flood your skin and your pussy clench with desire. Bokuto pushed himself closer to you and you gasped at the feeling of his erection on your abdomen.

You couldn’t even comment before Kuroo came up behind you, placing wet kisses on the back of your neck. You felt his clear excitement on your back.

“I guess we’re just going to have to show you how much we like you, huh princess?” he said with a Cheshire-like smile.

You were easily feeling overwhelmed with four hands and two mouths feeling you up. You wanted it, but you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. You’d never taken two men at the same time.

“W-wait—I’ve never…I haven’t—”

“Don’t worry. We won’t go all the way. We’ve got you babygirl,” Kuroo whispered before nipping your shoulder.

Your words turned into putty as you finally welcomed Bokuto’s lips. Despite his past seriousness, he was soft and hesitant with his kisses until he felt your arms wrap around his neck. Then his confidence shined through. You were pushed further into Kuroo’s embrace as you deepened the kiss.

You felt yourself moan as his tongue passed through your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored. He kissed you like he couldn’t have enough of your taste, swallowing down every whimper you gave. It was almost instinct for you to wrap your legs around him and you reveled in how he grinded his hips against you. You were breathless as he positioned himself so that he was right on your clit.

“Oh, Bokuto…”

“This is how you make me feel, Y/N,” he panted. “You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt about your legs around me.”

Bokuto’s hips continued to buck into you and it felt amazing. He was slow in his movements, his hips like sensual waves as he rutted against your sensitive nub. You moaned, hands latching onto whatever you could hold of his muscular back.

“You like that? Does it feel good, baby?” he exhaled. “Does it feel good when I pretend like I’m fucking you?”

You whined out a yes and dug your fingers in his hair. But just when you thought this was it, a pair of hands from behind untied your bikini top, letting it fall down your shoulders. Kuroo smoothed one of his hands over your breasts, teasing your nipples with his thumb and forefingers. The other hand squeezed your ass before his thick finger past your bottoms and into your slick folds.

The feeling of his fingers curling against your walls and Bokuto’s dick against your clit made your head fall back. Kuroo bit down on your neck and licked the mark before whispering in your ear, “All we’ve ever wanted was to make you feel good, kitten. There were so many nights I touched myself thinking of how you’d feel wrapped around me. So many nights I wished it were your pretty little mouth choking on my dick.”

He found satisfaction in how his words alone had such an effect on you when he felt you shiver. Meanwhile, you were on cloud nine. You closed your eyes and let a desperate whine drip from your lips as you felt Kuroo start to thrust against your ass. He then took his fingers out from your heat and lied them flat against your tongue.

“Suck,” he ordered, and you did just that, tasting yourself. A delicious moan vibrated through your body as he slowly moved his fingers in and out of your mouth.

It took a few moments, but soon, the three of you were moving in sync, chasing the orgasm you felt within their bellies. The closeness of it all was nearly overwhelming. Their grunts and moans were hot in your ears; one hand was in Kuroo’s hair while the other gripped Bokuto’s back.

“Imagine that we’re in you, filling your pretty holes up. So stuffed that you can barely tell who is who and god—you’d feel so good. Taking us like the good girl you are. So wet and hot for us as we fuck you until you can’t remember your own name,” Bokuto groaned.

Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. You were trying your best to keep your voice down, but the two men against you were not on the same wave. The white and black haired man gripped the flesh of your thighs to pull you closer as his thrusts got faster and messier.

Bokuto buried his head into your neck and moaned, “Y-Y/N, baby, I’m close.”

Close? You were barely holding on. If it wasn’t for that fact that Kuroo twisted your head to swallow your moans away, you would’ve been heard through the walls of the private room.  

In your pleasure filled daze, you found it within yourself to slip your hand within his trunks and pump his dick. The extra heat from your hand and the way you stroked your thumb over the tip nearly pushed him over the edge. Kuroo let out the prettiest moan that made his face heat up. Gone was the smugness as he peered at you with desperation.

“Princess—fuck Y/N!”

You huffed out a chuckle.

Kuroo took his hand out of your mouth so he could wrap one arm around your waist and pinch your nipples. He began to urgently thrust in your hand as you pulled Bokuto’s hair back so you could also see his face.

You almost came on the spot as he gazed at you like a lovesick puppy, golden eyes begging for release.

Within both of their gazes, you could see the fondness they had been trying to express to you. That along with the overstimulation was enough to make your eyes prick with tears.

The feeling was all too much. Your stomach was coiled tight. One more thrust and you were nearly sent over the edge.

“Kuroo! Boku—ah! Oh shit!” you sung.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Bokuto growled. “You’re right there—ah! C-cum for us.”

He grabbed the ledge of tub and nearly slammed into you as Kuroo licked his lips at the sight of your open mouth gasps. The water sloshed back and forth, spilling over the edges with your movements. You looked so pretty with your tongue out and eyes fluttering between open and closed.

Kuroo’s hand wrapped around your neck and gave it a slight squeeze. “Let us hear you princess—“

Then it hit you. Your eyes blacked out from the intensity. “I’m cumming!” you screamed. A wave of pleasure shot up your belly and spread warmth hotter than the humid air throughout your shaking limbs.

It was weird how their bodies automatically followed yours. Your voices tangled in the air for a few seconds before all that was left were the sounds of your heavy breaths.

The two men slumped over, each taking a different shoulder to rest on. You leaned your head back and closed your eyes to steady yourself from that mind blowing orgasm.

There was a moment of peace as you three simmered in the afterglow. Then Bokuto broke the silence.

“Now do you believe us?” he asked.

He lifted his head and you saw that confidence of his shine behind rosy, cheeks. And although he was flushed from what occurred moments ago, his blush was more attributed to the rush of getting to be so intimate with you.

“Believe you about what?” you panted with a lazy grin.

“That we’re yours, duh,” he goofily smiled.

Kuroo kissed your cheek. “That is…if you’ll have us,” he softly spoke.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the incredulousness of the situation.

Both of them, huh?

You sighed. There was no use in denying their feelings anymore.

“You two always had a weird habit of sharing anyways,” you conceded.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist our charm!” Bokuto cheered. “Now let’s head to my room do the real thing!”

You choked on your spit. “W-what!? The real thing? Aren’t you two tired!?”

“Tired?” Kuroo chuckled. “You got caught up with two A-List volleyball players and you think we’re tired after this? You’re funny.”

You squealed in surprised as Bokuto suddenly lifted you out of the tub, bridal style. They began to cheerfully walk out the room ignoring the fact that you were completely topless. You scrambled to cover your chest and cursed the two out for laughing as if someone wouldn’t see you half naked as soon you walked out of the door.

“Kuroo! Bokuto! If you dickheads don’t get my fucking bikini top—”

“Yeah yeah. You’ll be fine. You won’t need it anyways~” Bokuto chirped.

Kuroo nodded. “What are the chances that anyone will see us?”

“Uhh a lot!?”

“Welp! I guess we’ll find out!”

Just what the hell did you get yourself into?

[a-pretty-nerd]

Self Indulgent Shigaraki Nonsense Part...6??

Tomura Shigaraki x Pregananant reader series

A/N: Dude I'm not even close to being done, I really love writing this series. It's a whole lot of fun to see Shigaraki have a normal domestic life with the reader. Like damn. I'm thinking of writing a one-shot where the reader doesn't keep the pregnancy and its reader and Shigaraki going through the motions of that in their relationship because I'd like some more diverse fanfic out there. Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Descriptions of childbirth. If you want you can honestly skip this part.

Your contractions started early in the morning. Around 2am you felt the familiar cramp in your stomach that pulsed. At first, you thought it was another false alarm. You had been having a lot lately, but they just kept coming. They weren't long, and they weren't super painful yet either. They just made you tense and pause for breath. You shuffled out of the bathroom and looked over to the sleeping form in your bed.

There the father slept peacefully. You gazed upon his gentle features tucked underneath layers of scaring. You had wondered if the baby would take after him. If they would have that cute little beauty mark on his chin. You suddenly realized You'd be finding out soon enough. You laid back down beside him and closed your eyes in an attempt to get a few more hours of sleep before you had to prepare.

Mostly everything had been prepared beforehand. Your Midwife, a kind woman by the name of Mae would be on call at all times. Once contractions started getting regular, you were to call her. Apparently, Mae was well known amongst villain and crime families. When Tomura first brought her, you were surprised there was even such a thing as a Villian Midwife. But the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Underground villains and criminals needed their own help. Accountants, lawyers, employees, etc. With Villians becoming more and more popular, it was no surprise that you weren't the only villain family.

Mae was a professional, the best at her craft. She'd delivered hundreds of babies without issue and you would be her next case. She practically took over the house with everything she did. Helping to put together a nursery and everything you could have ever needed. You decided on natural water birth. Something that made Shigaraki unreasonably nervous. If anything went wrong, he was prepared to call every villain doctor he knew of. Hell, he'd send for you to be airlifted to the nearest hospital if necessary.

The pain woke you up again. The intense ache coursing through your body. You let out a strained breath as you sat up in bed. Your partner jumping to life with a jolt. You chuckled through the pain when you saw his wide-eyed expression.

"You okay?" He asked, his wide eyes filled with concern. You've never seen him so visibly worried before. So doting. You continued to laugh as the pain passed.

"Yeah it's just, the contractions, they're getting worse." You took deep breaths as you sat up in bed. Resting your head against a tower of pillows. Tomura sat up to get a better look at you.

"Should I call Mae?"

"Um...no I don't think that's necessary yet."

"Have they been regular?"

"Well, every ten or so minutes."

"I'm calling Mae." He turned away to get up and reach for his phone before you stopped him.

"No! Not yet. I can wait. I don't wanna bother her." His expression turned dark.

"I'm calling Mae." He ignored you, leaving the room to call the midwife. You huffed in frustration. Really, you felt fine. It was like a bad period cramp. There was no need to panic. "She'll be here in thirty minutes. I'm preparing the tub."

"No, Tomura wait, please. That's not necessary. I'm not even remotely close yet. Just hold on a few more hours." Tomura looked away and back down the hallway. He shifted from side to side before entering the room again and sitting on the edge of the bed beside you. His eyes glued to your thighs. He reached out a gloved hand and placed it on your knee, running his hand up and down your thigh.

"Don't try to tough this out." He told you.

"I won't." His eyes shot up to give you a knowing look.

"You need to tell me if anything goes wrong. If anything feels even the slightest bit off."

"I will. I promise." You reassured him. Bringing your hand to grasp his. He pulled his eyes away to look down at your hand and squeeze back.

"This is really what you want? It's not too late, Mae could bring it to be adopted. We could go home." Tears filled your eyes. No. You've come so far, done so much to prepare. You're not giving them up now. You shook your head.

"No. I can't do that. I've come too far for that now. That isn't my home anymore." You tore your hand from his to cup his cheek. When you looked back up, you could see tears forming in his ruby-red eyes. He looked scared. His bottom lip starting to quiver. "You are." You told him. He let out a defeated sigh and rested his head against your belly.

"You better not hurt her. You hear me? You better be good to her." He whispered. Your tears finally fell down your warm cheeks. You quickly wiped them away. You loving ran your fingers through his hair, petting his head. The sweet moment only to be interrupted by the sharp pain of another contraction.

"Fuck!" You cursed as your hand tightly grasped his shoulder. His attention snapped up to you, tears running down his face as he watched. Soon the pain passed as you took deep breaths. "Do you think, you could time my contractions for me?" You asked as it eased.

And so the hours upon hours of labor began. At first, Mae recommended you stand and move around to lessen the intensity of your pain. So now Tomura watched you shuffle around the house as you groaned and cursed. He timed every contraction, put the blow-up pool together, and set up towels by it, made you raspberry leaf tea because he read somewhere that was helpful.

He counted the seconds until Mae arrived. When the doorbell rang he promptly stood from his seat on the couch and quickly went to open the door. There stood the short old woman with a large smile plastered across her face. Her six arms holding a plethora of bags and boxes of necessities and pleasantries. She left one hand free just to greet him with a wave. He looked behind to watch the car with his own men drive away, and then again around the yard.

"Don't worry. There's no one but me, honey." Mae reassured as she pushed past him and into the house. You watched her waddle in as a contraction began to fade. Her attention leaving Tomura far behind and devoting it entirely to you. You watched Tomura grunt before looking back out the door to check one more time before closing and locking it. "I mean really, think about it. What woman in her right mind would use this time of all times to call the heroes on you. How cruel would I be!" She chuckled as she set her things down.

"You'd be a fool not to. A time like this would be perfect. We're alone and vulnerable." He growled behind her.

"And end my career just like that? No sir! I've worked too hard to get where I am just to let you dust me! Now let's see, you said on the phone contractions were regular?"

"Oh, well, not really. They're not that bad. Maybe every fifteen, ten minutes, give or take. Right?" You looked up at Tomura as he starred down with a cold expression.

"Her pain varies, but the timing is growing consistent." He corrected. You huffed in annoyance.

"Alright well let me just check the baby's heartbeat before we do anything else, okay? The last visit everything was fine, but we can't be too careful now can we, Dad?" She addressed him. A cold metal stethoscope glided across your skin as she silently listened. "Good, strong heartbeat. Everything looks good right now. Let's keep you active for now and monitoring those contractions, okay? Dad? How are we doing on preparations?" She turned back to look up at Tomura with an unbothered stare. He glared down at her.

"I've prepared the pool and towels. I'll add the warm water when we're getting closer."

"Oh good. That's more than most Dads do. You got a planner here don't ya?" She turned to you and smiled.

"Heh. He's a doomsday prepper." You joked. Tomura did not find this amusing, but Mae gave a kind giggle.

"Well, at least he's smart, huh?" She spoke as she shuffled away and back to her cluster of items. You looked up at Tomura and watched his expression soften as his eyes met yours. You gave him a kind smile.

"Something like that." His eyes narrowed on you for a moment, only to relax again when you chuckled at him.

Contractions came and went. Getting stronger and stronger by the hour. Now they were getting closer and closer. They started at 2am, it was now 9 at night. Tomura helped you undress to get you into the warm water of the pool he placed in the living room. Mae moving furniture aside and setting up her tools and everything as you stepped into the warmth of the bath. It allowed your tense muscles to relax, forcing a moan of relief from your lungs. Tomura knelt down behind you, his gloved hands never too far behind.

He watched you closely, all of his attention focused entirely on you. His right hand reaching out to rub soothing circles across your bare back. You closed your eyes shut as you groaned, another contraction grabbing ahold of you.

"That's it, good job. Don't forget your breathing, focus on your breathing. Dad, don't forget to do the breathing too." His eyes flashed up at Mae before going back to you.

"C'mon Y/N, breath with me." He instructed, his hand coming around to lay flat against your chest as you laid back against the pool. He felt your chest rise and fall with each deep breath. "Good. Again." He continued firmly. Another contraction struck, sending a jolt of pain throughout your entire body. You coiled back in pain, your face scrunching into a painful grimace.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!"

"Okay! Okay! Let's check you again see how far you're along okay!? Just breath."

"Just breath." He repeated.

"I'm breathing! I'm breathing!" You shouted back in frustration.

"Okay we're getting close you guys, we might be ready to push here in a few minutes." You panted as the pain subsided again. Tomura's attention came back down on Mae.

The birth itself felt like a pain-fueled blur. An intoxicatingly painful bender of sounds and colors. You couldn't focus or think straight, the pain rattling your head in your own skull. He watched you bark and huff and cry out. Something he knew very well. For a moment it took him back to the long and painful Dr's visits. The pain so unimaginable he grows hot with rage at the idea you might be feeling even an ounce of pain at all. Pain he caused.

You swung your head back to plant it firmly on his shoulder, your hair wet with sweat and water. He holds your hand tight, willingly letting you crush it with your own strength. It's nothing to him. He presses his lips into your temple. Wishing with all his might he could go back in time and change things. You're panting, you're body is growing weak, your hand is losing its grasp. Your shoulders are relaxing. No. No. This isn't right. You're not supposed to be this weak now!

"Almost!" Mae's voice shouts with gusto. He rests his head against yours before he lets out a weak and exhausted sigh. His voice rattles in a sad and begging tone.

"C'mon Y/N. You're so close." He says softly. Your body coils back as he feels your muscles spring to life once again. Your lungs filling with air before you let out a shrill, horrific battle cry. Only for it to abruptly be replaced by another. Your body drops limp in his arms once more as he feels you panting. Mae gives a triumphant cheer and proceeds to tell you how well you've done. How it's all over.

"Hello, little one!" The old lady chimes brightly. Tomura keeps his eyes shut tight as he presses his head against yours. He hears their loud, harsh cry. He knows it's over. He knows there is no going back. Once he opens his eyes and looks at them, at that little monstrosity, it'll be all over. Maybe you'll see the truth when you see it. Maybe you'll finally understand and come home with him once and for all.

"Both of you, open your eyes! Look at him!" Mae orders. The harsh and intense pain subsided, left with a dull ache, renders you exhausted. You hardly feel you have the strength to open your eyes, much less move. You pull your head up, feeling the weight of it on top of your neck. Heavy and pounding. You pull your eyelids apart to look down, your vision blurry at first. The harsh light blinding you for a moment before the shapes you see sharpen and become reality.

"Tomura, look." You whisper. His hand squeezes yours, he's gently shaking. You turn to watch him slowly open his eyes, and turn his head. In Mae's arms, a rather small and wrinkly infant cries. It's nearly blue skin, changing as it screams. Its face quickly becoming red with expression. It's no monster. It's weak and helpless and unaware. It's so small, it's half the height of his forearm. Its little hands, balled into fists, swat at the air as its legs coil back to its torso.

"Say hello!" Mae jokes. With a weak smile and laugh you oblige.

"Hello!" You coo. Tomura relaxes as you look back at him with a kind and elated smile. His gaze never leaves the child as Mae prepares him to be placed on your bare chest. Its crying soon subsides as it curls up under your chin. It's crying being replaced with little huff and sniffles from you. He leans back and away to watch the two of you.

He's in shock it would seem. As he sits back to watch you, he feels a tightness in his chest. He feels a wave of somber relief wash over him. His thoughts were gone only replaced my emotions.

"Dad?" Mae calls to him. "Dad?" She calls again. The third time he turns his head to look at her with a wide-eyed expression. She chuckled at him. "Would you like to cut the cord?" She offers, bringing him closer and instructing him how. He does so, quickly turning his attention back to the two of you. You look so peaceful. So happy. His gaze trails down to his child.

He watches his balled little fists press themselves against your chest, its expression turning relaxed and calm. Its little head covered in a rich black mess of hair. What color are its eyes? He wonders.

You turn your head to look up at him with that sweet adoring smile. His heart raced in his chest. He is overwhelmed and yet at this moment, nothing is happening. Time has slowed and has become irrelevant to him. The way you look at him. He feels like he's done something right. Like he's being praised for a job well done. He feels wrong about it. He should be making you feel that way. So, he tries.

"A boy?" His voice is hoarse and shaking. You nod your head. "A boy."

"A healthy one at that! Those lungs!" Mae jokes again as her arms go about working to clean and manage the space. You gently run the pads of your fingers against his small little back. His skin is so soft and smooth.

"Give me your hand." You requested.

"What?" He spat in shock.

"Give me your hand." You repeat firmly, your fingers gently spelling out the word: Mom, on his little back. Tomura reaches out a gloved hand. You reached out and removed the glove, taking his middle finger and gently directing it to the baby's back. "Gently." You tell him. Pressing the pad of his finger to his son's soft back. With this, you gently spell: Dad, repeatedly. Until he understands and continues to spell it himself along the baby's back. Very careful, and delicate. Tomura rests his head on your shoulder as he continues, slowly drawing the word. Allowing for a safe and intimate moment between the three of you.

[debbierhea]

and the world around us shatters / better call saul / wc: 2392  / kimmy jimmy omaha cinnabon reunion / special thanks to @kimberly-wexler for the beta <3

Summary: 

She’d been searching. For years.

She’d been searching. For years. Hired a PI and then another. Scoured every database she had credentialed access to and then a few she didn’t. Even adopted a cat to soothe the loneliness, lull the throbbing emptiness she felt in her chest. She’d had one as a girl once, a stray really, whom she loved. But this cat was as sulky and capricious as she had become and no matter how committed she was to ignoring it, the ulterior motive of pet adoption was glaring, if not to anyone else, to her.

After three months of No. Not like this. You can’t. Leave it alone. Don’t get involved, the ill-tempered tabby was Kim’s foot in the door. It was a Thursday when she sat across from his veterinarian, cat on the exam table, and said, “I need your help.”

“What kind of help are we talking?” He eyed her, stroked the tabby between her ears.

“I’m looking for someone.” Silence followed.

“You’re gonna have to give me a little more than that.”

“You know him. Jimmy McGill.”

His eyebrows rose. More silence.

“Well, can you help me or not?”

“You know it’s not always a matter of can I help.”

Kim tilted her chin, raised her eyes to meet his, unflinching. “Does that mean you won’t help me?”

“Hm?” The cat was purring into his hand, licking his thumb. “Oh, no. Just that my price may be something you’re unwilling to pay.”

She swallowed. “That’s not possible.”

“Okay then,” he nodded, stuck out his hand. She shook it.

Now, she was wandering through a sea of midwesterners in puffy coats and mittens, dusting snow off their shoulders, chattering about the weather. She hasn’t been back to this part of the country in years and it oddly feels like a homecoming, though she stopped considering Nebraska home the moment she left. It was simply a place she had lived, never one that offered family or comfort or love. There were sparse memories of joy with the odd classmate and a fond recollection of the first grade teacher who encouraged her to read, helped her get her very own library card. But now as then, there never existed a sense of ease or belonging for her. Even so, the familiarity of the Casey’s General Store on the corner, the Runzas on menus across state rest stops, the flurries of snow reddening her nose and chilling her bones, fostered a small flame of hope deep inside. She could still recognize, even find comfort in, a place she so detested. After the passage of so many years, this place was still the same and, underneath the new high rises and parking meters and sushi restaurants, she could see the bones of this city. Maybe the same could hold true for other things in her life.

Looking over the map in the lobby, she cupped her hands before her mouth and blew into them. The chill rested deep inside her, the hope she fostered in her heart doing little to warm her weary bones. All her work was to lead to this: trudging up the tiled stairs in damp snow boots surrounded by people who knew nothing about pain, not really. Not pain like hers.

She smelled it before she saw it, curving with the second floor walkway past storefront after storefront of clothes and books and knick knacks. She had just side-stepped the man trying to give free lotion samples when the warmth of cinnamon and sugar wafted over her. Her footsteps stuttered and her gait slowed. It was like watching a car whose engine was stalling out. She was light-headed, unable to string a thought together, parse out what she was feeling in her body besides a deep urge to run. Her therapist would tell her that she wanted to run because of her fear of being vulnerable and then being left behind. Again. Kim pushed hair that had fallen loose of her ponytail behind her ear, took three deep breaths, and followed her nose.

A small line stood in front of the cash register, three or four people, waiting for a treat to get them through their holiday shopping. She contemplated her next step from across the food court. Anticipation fluttered through her, givinggave rise to goosebumps beneath her layers of knit and down. Then further, deeper, beneath the adrenaline, lived something twisting and gnawing inside of her chest. She knew this thing like she knew the location of every security camera at the Hinky Dinky or the route she took home after school when her mom got too lost in the liquor aisle to remember to pick her up. This thing she knew was fear—fear of hope, of the inevitable ache of a further bruised heart. She crossed the food court despite it.

Trying to slip back into her midwestern skin, move through this world unassuming and deferential, she stood to the right of the registers, observing the ebb and flow of workers behind the glass. Dough was being kneaded by one, another opened an oven to check the progress of the bake. A third manned the register. A second till was sat unused, cash drawer open and empty. She stood there, just outside the current of customers, twitching her chapped fingers, tapping them against the inside of her own palm. He used to tease her for it. Five minutes passed, then ten. The line grew longer. Her flame of hope was waning.

Then, a voice—a bellow, more like—broke through the low hum of conversation in the food court.

“Coming! I’m coming, Miranda!” Kim froze.

A man in an apron and mustache came through the door marked “Employees Only” and made his way to the front of the store, a full cash drawer in his hands.

“Sorry! For some reason the safe just wouldn’t open.”

Kim was drifting through the crowd, pulled toward his voice. Her eyes began to burn.

“Here are some quarters for you. I figured you might be running low.” His eyes flicked up, scanning the crowd, estimating how many rolls they should throw into the oven. “I’ll open this one up and—,” his roaming gaze stopped. “And I, uh....”

She swallowed, her throat tight, eyes glassy. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He stood, slack jawed, staring.

“Um, Miranda I—Just, uh, just take this,” he handed the cash drawer to the teenager standing next to him, eyes never leaving Kim’s. “I’ll be right back.”

His shoes squeaked as he made his way around the counter and out into the seating area of the restaurant. Kim hadn’t moved, stunned like a deer in headlights on a Nebraska back road. He seemed as though he was moving in slow motion, each step towards her an eternity, and yet it was still not long enough to prepare herself for him to be standing directly in front of her. She felt like she’d just fallen through the ice into a glacial lake. No, she hadn’t fallen. She’d jumped. On purpose. And broke through.

He stood there, inches from her; she could see the gray in his mustache. He paused, just for a moment, then said, “Follow me.”

And she did.

They weaved in and out of tables and shoppers and janitors picking up fast food wrappers off the floor. He glanced back at her once, as if he was scared she wouldn’t be there behind him, as if she hadn’t been following him, chasing him, for what felt like her whole life. He led them down a hallway, empty save for a woman waiting on a bench between two bathroom doors, one labeled with a dress, the other a tie. Kim gave her a close-mouthed smile.

Jimmy stopped abruptly, reaching for the door to the family restroom. He held it open, looked into her eyes. Kim gave the woman another glance, cheeks reddening, and walked through the door before she could think or feel or do anything that would make her stop herself. She moved towards the far, tiled wall and as she turned, heard the clicking of the door’s latch, then the lock.

He paused then, there, gripping the door handle, his head resting against its grain. His body was tense, coiled and bound and, she realized, foreign to her. Stooped shoulders, billowing polo, slight waist cinched by an apron. Even from behind, he looked bleary, posture like a drooping flower on the sill. What happened to him?

Kim was grateful for this pause he was granting her. Everything seemed to be moving at a pace she was incapable of matching, an emotional marathon she had not trained for; she never did have much emotional stamina outside of simply holding them all in, like a child holding their breath in the deep end of the pool.

Then, he turned.

He was just as unfamiliar from the front as he was from behind, cheeks a bit sallow and stippled with five o’clock shadow, wiry glasses. His nametag read “Gene.” But Jimmy McGill was still the same in his bones and in the time it takes to exhale that breath you’ve been holding under the gentle waves of your childhood pool, the split second it takes for that breath to form a spray of bubbles racing you to the surface, they were in each other’s arms.

Centered on the yellowing, speckled tile, they grasped at shoulders and elbows, knees knocked, tears fell. Finally, Kim slipped her arms around his ribs and clutched him to her chest, nails digging into cotton and, beneath, soft skin. His face caught between shoulder and neck, he inhaled the scent of her, goosebumps rising as her puffy, down sleeves brushed against his bare arms. His hands roamed her back, skidding and sliding across slick fabric. It felt as if his hands had been frozen and he had finally found the fire he’s sought to warm them. Sneaking his right hand up and up and under the thick wool of her scarf, he hesitated just a moment before placing his fingertips to the soft skin of her neck. She gasped, a sob drawn out on a breath. His left hand pushed into the small of her back. She pulled him in tighter.

They held each other there, flushed and desperate and weepy, for a time—how long, neither could say. As the hand rubbing her back would slow, she would squeeze his middle gently as if to say Not yet and he would answer with gentle pressure between her shoulder blades. When her grip on him would loosen, his fingers would drift into the hairs at the base of her neck, pulling her impossibly closer, and she would let him. This is how they stayed, questioning and answering each other as only they could with little more than a sigh passing through their lips.

Then, Kim began to pull gently away. He stiffened the moment he sensed her movement from him, but she did not try to leave his embrace, this wasn’t her intention, not truly. She only wanted to see his dear face, maybe say hello. Placing one hand on his chest, she leaned ever so slightly back as his arms moved to circle her waist. Tears clung to his lashes and dripped from the tip of his nose. He swallowed hard as her eyes roamed his face, different but somehow entirely the same. She felt like she was back in the HHM parking garage bumming a smoke from the new guy in the mailroom. Hundreds of days and miles from then, he was still hers.

Bringing both hands up, cupping his jaw, brushing his cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs, she smiled. “Jimmy.”

At this, his eyes closed, Kim holding him tenderly in her palms. He hasn’t heard that name in years. When was the last time he thought of himself as anyone other than Saul Goodman? Saul the criminal defense attorney. Saul on the run. Saul posing as a Cinnabon manager. More tears fell free.

Removing his hands from her waist, he held her delicate wrists, one in each hand, his thumbs mimicking her caress across his skin. She gave the slightest tilt of her head and he answered with a reed-thin voice, a sad smile, “It’s you.”

She knitted her perfectly arched brows, that tell-tale wrinkle emerging between them, her eyes soft and wet, red-rimmed. She bit her lip and began to shake her head, never removing her gaze from his. After a moment, she smiled again, smaller this time, lips closed, and slipped one hand smoothly into his, the other onto his shoulder, not willing to break contact.

“Sorry it took me so long.”

More tears welled in Jimmy’s eyes as he rolled them to the ceiling, heart aching.

“Kim…I…”

“I know.” A pause. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Baby, I know.”

From shoulder back to his neck, Kim guided Jimmy with her hand, resting his forehead against her own, meeting in the middle, holding him there.

“Oh god—” a sob broke from deep in his chest.

Kim stroked his neck, shoulder, face, back. Jimmy wept.

Tears darkened the collar of his polo shirt and the tremors running through his body prompted Kim to wrap herself around him once more, burying her nose in his neck, focusing on the sickly-sweet scent of yeasted dough rising, cinnamon, and icing sugar over the pain so fierce living in the main between her arms.

As all things do with time, his sobs became weaker and fewer, until his breathing returned to a shallow, exhausted inhale, sniffly exhale. Kim lifted him from her shoulder and he raised his eyes towards hers. Her lips twitched, and then she brought them to his cheek. One, then the other, over and over, like salve to a wound she covered his drying tear tracks with her lips. Gentle and soft, like the flap of a butterfly’s wings did she kiss him. And then, she centered herself, hand threading into his hair, she moved to his lips.

“Kim,” he whispered, a breath from her lips.

“Yes?”

“What if you’ve come all this way to find someone who…doesn’t exist. Not anymore.”

Again, Kim knit her brows and shook her head. She placed her right hand over his heart, lifted her shoulders gently in a shrug.

“It’s you.”

[darter-blue]

Stucky/ Shrunkyclunks/ fluff

Read it here on ao3

Or part one, two, three, four , five and six on tumblr

Steve

Steve’s mind comes back to consciousness in increments. The first thing he notices is the warmth. A warm body tucked up against him, soft hair against his skin, an arm around his waist. He knows, or his body knows, that this is nothing to fear. This is the same warmth and softness that he fell asleep wrapped around. This is the same feeling of contentment and belonging that he let his heart rest to last night.

But he slowly becomes aware that the body resting against his is not quite so relaxed.

He feels Bucky’s body tense. Feels his diaphragm stop mid breath, feels the length of him coil and stiffen as he wakes up and finds himself pressed against Steve.

Bucky doesn’t remember.

Steve feels his own calm start to recede, he freezes too, and the two of them are lying together, Bucky across Steve’s chest, one leg between Steve’s, holding their breath and waiting.

With no idea what they’re waiting for.

Bucky is the first to move - he pushes back and away to prop his body up and look down at Steve.

His expression morphs from confused to surprised to sheepish in a matter of seconds, skin blushing an adorable rose, his eyelashes dark against the olive tone of his cheeks as he lowers his eyes.

Steve commits the image to memory even as his heart plummets into his stomach.

Bucky doesn’t remember.

Steve won’t get to keep this.

‘Umm… hey,’ Bucky says, looking back up at Steve and biting his lip. ‘Good morning?’

‘Morning,’ Steve says slowly, carefully. He looks over to the clock on his nightstand and balks at the time. ‘Oh…’ It’s already nine - they were supposed to go and pick up the paperwork from Mavis. They were supposed to get breakfast together - ‘We’ll miss breakfast.’

‘Oh no!’ Bucky says, jumping up and out of the bed. ‘Oh, my flight leaves in two hours!’

Steve is left alone in bed, the warmth leaching out from where Bucky has tossed the covers back. He sits himself up and leans back against the headboard. He’s not sure what to do, whether to offer to drive him to the airport (he has Tony’s car, and Thor can get back on his own) or to explain that they’ll need to unsign their paperwork.

They’ll have to ask Mavis how to undo it.

She’s going to be devastated.

‘Are you-’ Bucky starts to ask as he looks back over at Steve and freezes. He looks Steve up and down. Steve who is now sitting up in nothing but his underwear, the covers gone, and Bucky has his mouth hanging open as his eyes travel across all the skin that Steve has on display. ‘Uhh… I, we… oh shit,’ he jumps as his phone beeps at him from the pocket of his pants Steve had folded up for him last night.

He dives for his phone and checks the message. Types back furiously and then looks back up at Steve.

And then he freezes yet again as he flexes the fingers on his left hand. Sees the ring.

He looks over at the t-shirts that have toppled to the floor as he pulled his phone free, down at his own state of undress, and then back at Steve again.

‘Umm…’

‘We uh-’

Bucky’s phone beeps again and he hisses a bad word as he checks it and types back.

‘Sorry,’ he says, looking backup at Steve, ‘I’m um, I have to hurry,’ and he starts to drag his jeans on, grabs at the t-shirts, looks around and can’t see that there’s any other clothes - another thing they’ll have to pick up from Mavis - and pulls the pink ‘groom’ shirt on over his head.

Steve doesn’t know how to correct him, tell him that’s Steve’s shirt.

His heart sinks just a little bit further.

‘Bucky tucks his phone into his back pocket and runs a hand through his hair, turning his head to search for something, and makes a little ‘ah’ noise when he spots the bathroom. He dashes in, Steve can hear him exclaim again at the size of the enormous shower, and then ducks his head out from the door to look over at Steve, still in bed. One eyebrow raised quizzically. ‘Are you coming?’

‘Where?’ Steve asks, confused.

‘To breakfast!’ Bucky says, his head disappearing and then reappearing as Steve hears him running water in the sink, ‘We have just enough time to get the free buffet before I have to get my stuff from my room and head to the airport.’

Breakfast with Bucky? Steve is jumping out of bed too, ripping his jeans on and squeezing himself into Bucky’s smaller t-shirt. Not caring that it doesn’t even fully cover his stomach. ‘Yes!’ he says, hopping on one foot as he pulls his shoes on, ‘yes, I’m coming!’

He rushes through washing his face and grabbing his room key, herding them out and pulling the door shut behind them as they head to the elevator, the elevator that has him blushing just standing in with Bucky again - he can feel the heat in his cheeks - and press level one for the casino diner.

They stand awkwardly next to each other. Not pressed together, At least a foot of distance between them, and Steve has to swallow down his disappointment.

Bucky has asked him to breakfast, this is not nothing.

He needs to steal whatever time Bucky will give him. He needs to not ruin this with too many thoughts.

He could say something though. He should say something.

‘Are you… do you…’ Steve tries to get the words to come out right, but it’s not working.

Bucky looks up at him, adorable eyebrow raised, hands in his pockets and waits for Steve to finish, nods to show he’s listening.

Steve can’t do it. Can’t ask him what he remembers. Can’t face what Bucky might confirm.

‘Need a ride?’ he finally finishes with.

‘A ride?’

‘To the airport,’ Steve clarifies. ‘I can drive you, if you need.’

‘Oh,’ and Bucky’s face lights up, ‘that would be a life saver.’

Steve nods his head, enthusiastically agreeing.

A ride to the airport means more Bucky. Means maybe he can stretch for time. If Bucky misses his flight, Steve can just drive him all the way home. Wherever that might be. He doesn’t even know.

God.

He doesn’t even know where Bucky lives.

The elevator stops and they step out, one after the other weaving their way through bleary eyed travellers and wide eyed, backpacked tourists, and find themselves a booth to nab just as someone is leaving.

Someone who eyes Steve up and down, sees his ‘Elvis said we do!’ t-shirt, two sizes too small and hurries away, clicking madly into their phone as they bump into a table.

Bucky stares after the person looking a little perplexed, but ignores it in favour of clearing the abandoned dishes to the edge of the table and helping stack them as the waitress rushes over to take them for him.

‘Just grab a plate and help yourselves,’ she says, gesturing to the buffet with a nod of her head, ‘you’ve got about half an hour till they close.’

‘Thank you,’ Bucky says to the waitress, who smiles as she turns away, then back to Steve as he points with his thumb, ‘I better get some food.’

Steve’s stomach chooses that exact moment to rumble ridiculously loudly and Bucky’s smile intensifies.

‘You better get some too, big guy.’

He looks so sweet, Steve doesn’t have the heart to tell him his stomach is in knots because of Bucky.

But when it rumbles again he thinks maybe, actually, Bucky might have a point.

And the pancakes looked pretty good.

Steve is halfway through trying to bury his anxiety in a mouthful of maple soaked pancake when Bucky looks at him and says, ‘So…'

Steve freezes with the fork midway to his mouth, and waits for Bucky to say the words that will break his heart.

'Umm…' Bucky looks down at his hand and then holds it up to Steve, wiggling his ring finger, and the band it now carries, 'So this happened…'

Steve, terrified of how to answer that without scaring Bucky away, takes too deep a breath and inhales half of his pancake into his windpipe. He swallows a mouthful of juice to try and dislodge it, and finally gets himself under control enough to answer. 'Right, yes. That. That… happened.' he nods, looking down at his pancakes and desperately avoiding what Bucky might do once he knows the truth. 'And how do you… how do you ah… feel? About that?'

He waits with his head down… for an answer that Bucky gives enough time to have properly measured.

'I think… I mean I don't really remember exactly how this happened,'

Steve feels the weight of those words sink through him like lead. Until Bucky’s next words.

'Not that I mind,’ Bucky says, in more of a rush suddenly, ‘I was just thinking it might be nice to… have a refresher?'

And Steve snaps his head up to catch Bucky’s expression. Open. Honest. Warm. Everything Steve knows Bucky is. Everything that gives him hope that this could really happen. 'A refresher?'

And Bucky rushes ahead to explain himself. 'Only because we woke up so late and rushed down for breakfast and then… well it might be nice to go through exactly what happened last night again, in some detail…’

Steve is going to have to take him down to see Mavis-

‘Perhaps a full physical re-enactment?'

Steve isn’t sure what he means, retracing their steps exactly, the whole night? Even- Oh.

Oh.

Bucky doesn’t remember what didn’t happen last night. Bucky woke up next to Steve, both of them in nothing but their underwear, wrapped around each other, wedding rings and matching t-shirts and an awkward morning after and…

Bucky is looking at Steve with the most beautifully vulnerable expression, somewhere between salacious and embarrassed and Steve could honestly reach across the table and gather him up and never let him go.

Or he could take what time they’ve got left and finally get Bucky back to his room.

'You know, I'm feeling kind of full, and we do have at least another hour until check out…'

'Well we should use it wisely.' Bucky says, smile breaking out in full technicolour and Steve has to breathe. Has to be calm and controlled. Has to pull Bucky back to the elevator with the gentlest grip around his beautifully round bicep.

Bucky is looking up at Steve and clears his throat to ask quietly, 'I guess, I mean, since you're my husband now, I should like, actually know your name…?'

'Steve,' Steve answers, huffing a laugh at this crazy situation, 'Steve Rogers.'

'Well, Steve-Steve Rogers, I'm-'

'James Buchannan Barnes.'

'Right,' Bucky says, swallowing, 'You remember that huh?'

'Oh I remember everything.' Steve, bolstered by the way Bucky says Steve-Steve Rogers - as if those memories are there, waiting under the surface, bolstered by the evidence of how much Bucky really was being himself last night, dares to press in close. Close enough that he can feel Bucky’s heart beat, can feel how it increases as Steve moves closer still.

They reach the elevators and Steve’s nose is practically nuzzling Bucky’s hair. The doors open and he guides them inside, pushes Bucky up against the wall, close enough that their chests are pressed together, close enough to push a knee between Bucky’s thighs as the doors close.

As Steve lifts his hand to push a lock of stray hair behind Bucky’s ear, Bucky tilts his head and narrows his eyes.

'Steve Rogers? Why does that sound familiar?'

And Steve reaches over to pull the emergency stop button, lifts Bucky up and smiles as Bucky wraps his legs around Steve’s waist, smiles as his arms fly up to circle Steve’s neck, and presses him even further up against the wall of the elevator.

He almost never, in his life, has got to redo a moment like this. Take it back and make it perfect. He looks at Bucky and measures his words, lets his tone drip like honey, sweet and smooth and rich. 'Okay, don't be mad, baby, but, you've heard of Captain America, right?'

The way Bucky stares down at him. Not surprised, not upset, not greedy, just accepting. The way Steve can see the cogs turning in his head as he calculates what that means exactly, the way he raises his eyebrow and scrunches his lips and then makes a tiny little shrug of his shoulders.

It’s breathtaking.

'Sure, I've heard of him,' Bucky says, smiling and leaning forward. He presses a soft kiss to Steve's mouth, 'But I mostly want to hear more about Steve-Steve Rogers if you don't mind.'

Steve knows he’s smiling like an idiot but he doesn’t care. He’s so deep in this now there's no hope but to dig further.

‘I don’t mind,’ he says, leaning up to kiss Bucky again, ‘I’ll tell you anything you wanna know.’

‘Kinda wanna know what you plan to do with me in here,’ Bucky says, softly, between breaths as he nips at Steve’s lips, snakes his fingers up into Steve’s hair at the nape of his neck.

‘I have to confess, we didn’t actually get this far last night,’ Steve says, pulling back a little to look Bucky in the eye. Wanting to make sure he's fully informed.

‘We didn’t?’

Steve shakes his head.

‘But you want to?’

Steve nods, hard and fast and without a doubt. ‘Do you?’ He asks. He wants to be sure. He thinks he knows, but he wants to be sure.

‘So much,’Bucky says, smiling into Steve’s lips as he presses forward to kiss him again.

‘Wait,’ Steve says suddenly, pulling back again.

‘What?’ Bucky looks down at him with concern.

‘Your flight!’

‘Oh, fuck it,’ Bucky says with a laugh, ‘I’ll catch the next one.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely,’ Bucky says, pulling Steve in closer and kissing him again, ‘I will hitch back to New York if I have to, this is worth it.’

‘New York?’ Steve says, shifting Bucky’s weight and pressing him further into the wall, ‘you live in New York?’ And he might be lighting up the entire Vegas powergrid with the power of his smile right now.

Bucky nods against Steve’s face as he kisses his cheek, his nose, and back down to his other cheek.

‘I could give you a ride all the way home.’

This time Bucky pulls back, pulling at Steve’s hair a little to put space between them, ‘Wait, what?’

‘I live in New York too. I can drive you home.’

‘You drove here?’

‘I mean… I took a jet, but Tony left me his car to drive home, said I should let my hair out… or down…’ Steve shakes his head, ‘either way. He wanted me to take my time coming home.’

‘And how long do you have the room for?’

‘As long as I want, probably…’

‘So we could… we could stay a whole nother day and night?’

Steve hadn’t even thought of that, had never even dreamed of it, but he wants it. He wants it all.

He nods and pushes forward, latches onto Bucky’s mouth and kisses not so gently this time, rocking his hips up into Bucky and biting and licking into his mouth.

‘Anything you want, Bucky, I’ll give you anything you want, always.’

‘Just this,’ Bucky says, kissing back with the same fervour, wrapping his legs tighter around Steve’s waist and pulling him closer, chasing that friction, ‘Just you.’

And Steve runs his hands up under Bucky’s shirt, desperate to feel him, desperate for the warmth of his skin, to be as close to him as possible. He mouths down Bucky’s stubbled chin and down his throat, drawing a gasping moan out of him, rocking up again at the sound of it.

‘Gonna wreck you in this elevator, baby,’

‘Yes,’ Bucky says, nodding and arching up into Steve, tipping his head back to expose the long line of his neck, to give Steve more room to suck and bite marks there.

‘God, I’ve been wanting to touch you like this all night, all morning.’

‘Me too,’ Bucky says, ‘I mean, I assume.’

Steve has to laugh, even as he sucks a searing bruise into Bucky’s throat.

‘Knowing me, I’ve been wanting this since the second I saw you.’

‘Yeah,’ Steve kisses the words up the other side of Bucky’s throat and into his cheek, ‘that sounds about right.’

Their bodies are rocking together, and the movement is desperate, filthy, Bucky’s breathing is short and fast and gasping, Steve can feel his heart beating out of his chest. He runs his hands all the way up Bucky’s stomach to put his palm over his heart, letting his finger brush again his nipple.

It sends a delicious shiver down Bucky’s entire body, Steve can feel the vibration of it.

‘Our bodies found each other, Bucky,’ he says, letting his erection slide against Bucky’s, not caring at the fabric between them, leaning into the pleasure-pain of the way his cock is straining against his pants, ‘Our particles are dancing again.’

‘Oh, I knew, I knew you,’ Bucky says, soft laughter in his voice, ‘I recognised your vibration.’

It makes Steve sigh into another kiss, fall into Bucky.

‘Like soulmates,’ Bucky whispers into Steve’s mouth, and that’s it, Steve is done for. It’s not even just the sensation of Bucky’s skin under his hands, the way Bucky is grinding into him, the way their bodies move together, the bitten off little moans Bucky makes as Steve teases at his nipples, mouths at his throat. It’s the idea of Bucky. That idea that even starting again this morning, Bucky can feel it, their connection.

He believes it.

It's real.

And Steve lets it go this time. His control. His fear.

He lets go and he lets the hope and the happiness and the overwhelming pleasure wash over him. Feels it gush out of him, and feels Bucky follow him over.

It's perfect.

It's everything.

Until something heavy lands on the roof of the elevator and rips off the maintenance hatch.

And Steve watches with growing horror as Tony Stark, in his Iron Man suit, pokes his head into the elevator and flips his face shield open.

'Well well well,' Tony says, shaking his head, smug smile on his irritatingly goatee’d face, 'I leave you alone for five minutes.'

Steve looks at Bucky, who is staring up at Tony with an open mouth and saucers for eyes, a ring on his finger and ‘groom’ on his chest. And yeah… okay.

This is going to be hard to explain.

[all-about-seggs]

A Fine Specimen-

Rating : 18+, Mature, Yandere-verse

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x female reader.

Word count : 2.3k

Warning's : Dark themes, Yandere behaviour, non-con, drugging, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, vaginal sex.

The lights on the low run down ceiling kept flickering, as you try your best to pull yourself out of your trance. The room was dark except for the surgical lights pointed straight on your figure, it seemed like an abandoned operation theatre, or atleast it should be, considering its dingy state. Every effort of looking around and trying to make sense of your current predicament has been futile, even staying level headed in this strange place was a constant struggle.

Your entire body felt heavy despite the fact that you didn’t even had a thread of clothing on you, the cold air of the room hitting you body made another alarm go off in your head. You’d think you were strapped to the cold hard examination table but it was simply the numbness of your limbs that prevented you from moving. Panic started to flood through your system as you racked your brain for any possible reasoning, as to why you were being treated like a test subject. Sure you lived in a society filled with supernatural beings but you were nothing if not normal.

The gradually increasing sound of footsteps pulled you out of your reverie but judging by the situation your in, it most likely wasn’t a good thing. Soon the person who enters, will see you at your most vulnerable, half conscious and naked state, it was humiliating but you had to pull yourself together if you wanted to survive.

Your sleep laden eyes were the only part that you could move but the light shining above you made it quite straining to focus so you stayed still.

A shadow casted itself upon you indicating the person who entered was tall, probably a male and stronger too. In your current state he made you feel like a rag doll as he stared at your form. You’d describe him as a hunter sizing up his prey if you could see his eyes, which were covered by a blindfold. But that wasn’t the only thing peculiar about him, his hair was as white as snow, the lights above you giving him an otherworldly glow when he leaned on you. His pink lips that looked so smooth, shined with the slightest movement. His beautiful features screamed perfect not creep.

“Hellooo~ Y/n chan, are you awake?…..”, He asked in a sing song voice and a smile on his lips that contrasted with the sombre atmosphere of the room.

So he knew your name? It’s not surprising if he was the one who brought you here, but it was the first time you met this person and he had enough quirks that anyone would remember even without having to converse with him. You were barely managing to keep your eyes half open and speaking seemed far too big of a struggle, your body wasn’t listing to you since the moment you woke up so all you could do was wait for him to explain himself, if he’s even planning to.

A few seconds passed in silence before the white haired man continued, “You probably don’t remember but you were attacked. By a curse, I mean.”

His tone held no compassion as his cheery voice continued, “ You were hurt pretty badly and almost got swallowed, but I made it in time so it’s all right now. You need to get examined for any signs of trauma or any other serious injuries, it’s just that your doctor is running a bit late so I decided to take over”, his face drew closer as he practically breathed on your lips, the warmth radiating from his body almost giving you a false sense of relief that was short lived when you felt his hand cup your breast.

“ You don’t mind right?, I’ll make sure to throughly check each.and.every.detail”, he cooed against your ear giving your cold breast a soft squeeze the stranger left feather light kisses up your neck. You may not be a medical expert but even you knew no medical examinations include foreplay. Your body was still as stiff as a rock and even if you were injured it seemed unusual for you to lose the entire control of your limbs and voice, so you put all your strength into pulling out a broken scream from your clogged throat. It was a futile effort but you couldn’t just let yourself be fondled by some stranger who clearly didn’t looked or acted sound of mind.

“ What’s wrong y/n? Didn’t that felt good?”, There was obvious confusion in his tone, as if he doesn’t realise he doesn’t have your consent but as outrageous as it seemed to you his touch felt good, comforting even. His touch was the only thing that gave you warmth since you regained consciousness and maybe it’s your dazed state or the fact that you’ve been lying on this hard surface or its in his superficial beauty that was making your body feel at ease instead of tensing up.

The murky room that previously made you shiver, now felt warm with a sweet scent in the air, “ Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you~”, he whispered softly in your ear, moving your breasts tenderly so as to not cause you any pain, and then lightly he rolled your perked up nipple between his fingers, delighting at the sight of your face twisting up in pleasure you can’t refuse.

He tilted your chin upwards to gain more access to your throat and started sucking a trail of red marks from your jaw to the valley between your breasts, they felt tingly and soft at first, his kisses lighting you’re numb body on fire, a feeling that was undeniably delightful albeit forceful.

“ Not gonna put on a fight now sweetheart? What a good girl you are!”, His voice took a maniacal pitch, but his smile appeared to be of genuine nature as if he really did wanted to take care of you.

“ Let’s get serious now shall we?”, Saying that he moved towards your legs, he bent over your naked pussy and parted your thighs as much as your currently stiff body allowed. It was clear to him that you wanted to protest, wanted to hide yourself and run away but your slightly parted lips that couldnt make out any screams of pain or pleasure, those half lidded eyes which were struggling to focus on what was happening to the rest of your body, it was all part of what made your current violator’s desire surge through his blood .

His hand that parted your legs gave the inner part of your thighs a gentle pinch, as he kept on stroking the soft flesh. Moving his left hand inbetween them he reached for your glistening nether lips beneath curls of pubic hair, with two of his long thick fingers he pried them open. Licking his lips like he was about to devour a delicious meal he brought his face closer to your sex until his tongue made contact with your clit. He took the tiny nodule in his mouth and gave it a hard suck making you shiver and with that, every ounce of fight left in you died as you started to surrender yourself to his touch that promised the kind of tantalizing euphoria you’ve never imagine possible.

Your body was beginning to heat up to the point of burning as your senses started catching up to the white haired guy’s mouth which relentlessly worked your clit back and forth. Slipping two fingers of his right hand in your tight cunt, he made more of your white hot cum flow out, your face was the picture of bliss as he kept on licking your slick covered pussy. He shoved his fingers inside you harder and faster until you began tightening around him, your pussy started convulsing when that coil of pleasure unwinding in the pit of your stomach reached its peak. With a slight squeeze of his digits you came on his face, just like he wanted you to.

He smiled while watching you come down from your high, the mess your quivering body made was a beautiful sight for him and he wanted to savour every second of it. You though the fire that he kindled inside you would calm down after you came but your body kept on shaking even when your orgasm had ended. It was like your body was not yours anymore, like it didn’t belong to you but the guy who was in front of you. It was only when he was touching you that made your senses come back to yourself and as soon as he drew away you were left unable to control even a single limb of yours.

“ I’m glad to see it was enjoyable for you my sweetness, although I couldn’t swallow all it, I think i was able to get a good enough taste of you”, he spoke in a low baritone. “ I really wanted to hear your cute voice crying out for me but I suppose I went overboard with your medications, so I guess that won’t be happening”, his tone lacked regret but atleast now you knew why your body was acting funny and how this person was insane if he thinks drugging you is giving medication, despite your reasoning all rationality had already left your brain, only leaving you with an unquenchable thirst for his touch.

From the corner of your eye you could see him swiftly unzipping his pants to take out his hard member. He mounted on you still palming his hard on and it only now dawned on you just how huge he was, his body completely enveloped yours making you feel small as he planted one hand beside your head. He leaned down to kiss your parted lips, slipping his tongue inside, you could taste the remnants of your cum on it when he licked the roof of your mouth. His kiss was so hard it almost felt like he was sucking the life out of you not stopping until your consciousness started to waver again.

“ Haaaa… Sorry, I got carried away, breath for me cupcake, Its no good if I have to hump your unconscious body.”, With that he placed his right hand on the back of your knee and pushed it all the way up to your chest, this new position giving him more access to your still swollen and trembling cunt.

In one smooth motion he was buried deep in you, the slick from your last orgasm gave him enough lubrication that he started moving immediately. His pace was fast, but not violently so. It was the right amount of deep and long as he pulled himself out until only his tip remain inside of you before pushed it in again. He watched your reactions intently as he maintained his steady pace, though mildly, you were still able to contort your face like anyone who is being fucked so good. Soon you felt your second orgasm approach and he speed up his own actions to chase his high as well.

“ Gojo…..Satoru…..”, He said inbetween his rhythmic thrusts, “ that’s my name, so let me make you….. remember …it…..”, With a few more hard thrusts a familiar pleasure washed over you. Your pussy clenched around his cock making him follow you soon after.

Panting heavily, he leaned down to rest his forehead against the crook of your neck, beads of sweat trickling down his face as he calmed himself down. He didn’t pull himself out until both of your heavy breaths became steady, still looming over you. Raising his head he licked your lips, and with a low growl against your mouth he put one of his hand on your throat, wrapping itself around it completely, his actions sent a shiver up your spine. He started putting pressure on only some very particular spots, causing your eyes to roll back, making the already delicate state of consciousness to fade. But before you felt yourself getting knocked out you heard him speak again.

“Next time…… I’ll make you say it”, he said calmly as the man named Satoru withdrew his hands from your neck.

[fific7]

Into the Darkness / Part 2

The Darkling x Reader

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s literally just lemon zest 🍋 ... I have a vision of Ben Barnes in his black Kefta and riding boots permanently stuck in my brain right now. Attempting to write it right out of there.

Warnings: 18+ please due to NSFW content. Some dom/sub interaction, being restrained, coercion, questionable consent (thankfully this takes place in a fantasy universe), sexual content including oral, loss of virginity, rough unprotected* sex. I don’t mention her actual age, but Reader is not underage.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

[My GIF]

Your stomach clenched as now you knew what was going to happen next. You’d naively thought that perhaps he would allow you to sleep for the rest of the night. But judging by the predatory look on his face, that was not to be.

You took another sip of your water, you were having a little trouble swallowing as your throat felt raw from your earlier activity. He had taken to pacing again. He glanced over at you, stopping mid-stride.

“Hurry up!” he bit out.

You tried to take bigger gulps of the water, but started coughing. His face showed angry impatience. “What’s wrong with you?”

You tried not to whine as you said, “My throat is very sore, moi soverennyi.”

His face softened a little. “Very well, but don’t take all night. I need to have you. Now.”

Again, your stomach coiled in on itself. Yes, your throat was sore, but you were absolutely trying to stall.

Finally, the glass was empty, and you couldn’t put this off any longer. You shimmied back onto the bed, and lay down with your head on the soft pillows. You tried to appear calm, but underneath you were a seething ocean of nerves. Your stomach was heaving, your heart was pounding, your breathing was ragged.

“At last!” He lazily applauded you, the sound of his clapping hands ratcheting up your nerves even more. He moved to the lamps in the room and dimmed them.

He approached the bed, swirling open his Kefta as he reached you. You closed your eyes, and felt the mattress dip as first he knelt on it, then quickly moved astride you. “Open your eyes, girl!” he demanded, and you forced your eyelids to lift, chewing on your lip and meeting the slate-coloured stare looking down at you.

Once more, he undid his fly and laid aside his trousers and underwear. His cock was ramrod stiff again, and even although this was the second time you’d seen it in this state, you drew in a large breath. It just looked so huge. He was going to damage you, you were sure of it. He took in your wide-eyed, anxious look at his cock, and laughed out loud.

“You’re obviously nervous about this,” gesturing at his erect length, “...so I’m not going to prolong things.” He started moving closer to you, and you shrank back into the pillows. He laughed again. “Now come on, girl! The last thing I need is for you to pass out when I enter you,” he mocked. “Normally there is some enjoyment to be had before the deed, but you are so full of nerves that I’m going to take you now.... and I mean immediately. We can explore all the other options later.”

This did absolutely nothing to calm you down.

You realised that he was not going to get undressed, he was even still wearing his riding boots. You fleetingly wondered if he wasn’t prepared to let himself be the least bit vulnerable in front of you, while you were left to carry the anxiety and stress of losing your virginity to him all on your own. It didn’t seem fair. He was in fact being very businesslike about taking it, but he still had that ferocious gleam in his eyes, so perhaps he wasn’t as circumspect about it as he appeared.

He suddenly lunged at you, grabbing the hem of your robe with both hands and ripping it in two, catching you by surprise and leaving you gasping in fear. He pulled your shoulders up off the bed and pushed the robe down over them. He stilled for a few seconds, staring hungrily at your breasts, before pulling the robe out from under you and tossing it to the floor.

You belatedly tried to shield your breasts from his gaze with your hands, but he shook his head. “No! You don’t hide anything from me, you understand?” He pulled your hands away, and you let your arms fall limply onto the mattress. “Answer me!” he barked. “I understand, moi soverennyi,” you said feebly.

His large hands descended on your breasts, fingers roughly grasping at them for a few seconds before he leant over you, sucking and biting one of your nipples. He grabbed the other one and rolled it, hard, between his finger and thumb. You yelped, surprised at the arousal you felt.

Moving to your linen underwear, it was also ripped off you. Your mind wondered what on earth you’d wear tomorrow. His head dipped, and you almost screamed out loud when you felt his tongue between your legs. You tightly clenched your thighs together, shutting him out.

He sat up very suddenly and you thought for a second that he might slap you, but he merely said, “Open your legs again for me, little dove.” You whimpered but did as he asked. His head returned between your thighs, that tongue of his delving right into your core. You noticed that he was paying special attention to one particular part of your anatomy and every time his tongue travelled over it, a shock of pleasure shot through you.

After a few moments, he sat back on his knees, stroking his cock and spreading his precum over it as he did so. You followed his every move, mesmerised and afraid.

He leant towards you, saying in a low voice, “You’re starting to get wet. Do you feel that?” He grabbed one of your hands and brought it to what felt like a furnace heating up between your legs. You felt the wetness there. He continued, “The wetter you are, the easier it is for both of us, understand?” You nodded, like a schoolgirl with her teacher.

Staring intensely at you, he said, “You understand that my cock’s going to be completely inside you like before, just in a different location this time?” “Yes,” you replied. “It’s going to be there the whole time. I won’t be pulling out, even if you have pain. You just need to take it, do you hear? No refusing or trying to get away. And - listen to me, this is very important - there is one thing I require above all else. Are you listening?”

Again you nodded, “I’m listening, moi soverennyi.”

“I need you to really like taking it rough, hard and fast.” Your eyes dropped, that sounded too painful for your liking. He forced your chin up until your eyes met again, “And the best way for you to get used to it, is to have it that way your first time. This simply means that you won’t know any differently. So that’s how this is going to happen, and there will be no argument from you. You agree to obey?”

Your breathing hitched, you felt even more nervous than before if that was possible. Nevertheless you nodded, acquiescing in what was to be your fate. You couldn’t afford to displease this man.

He shrugged, “It’s just a matter of logistics, I just don’t have time for niceties. So I need you to be ready for me whenever I want to fuck you.”

He’d been distracting you by talking to you. Before he’d even finished speaking, you felt his tip between your legs and he immediately began sinking into you. You gasped and started whimpering, but he kept pushing, pushing, pushing into you without respite. You were so tense that he wasn’t making too much headway.

You heard an exasperated sigh, felt hands on your shoulders and then you were being shaken back and forward, like a naughty child. “Relax! You need to stop resisting me.” He sounded angry, impatient. You nodded, anxiously trying to comply. The feeling of pressure as he started pushing into you began once again.

You felt it all - every inch - as he pushed very roughly right inside you. As he did, you felt a very sharp pain in your abdomen and started to cry out, but it was quickly muffled by one of his hands pressing over your nose and mouth. He again thrust fully inside you, and the pain spiked once more. Thankfully it then began to subside, which was just as well as he’d immediately begun to roughly thrust into you at a ferocious pace. His hand was still blocking your gasps and cries, and tears were once again running down your face. The fingers of his other hand were biting into the flesh over your hip. Rutting into you, he was also gasping and groaning but managed to keep the volume down.

You felt as if he was never going to stop. He just kept on and on, and eventually you didn’t even have the energy to scream and cry any longer. Then you felt him tense up, his thrusts became jerky, and you felt the same rush of warmth inside your body as you’d felt in your throat earlier on.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He pulled out of you, sitting beside you and reaching across to grab the damp washcloth from the bedside table. He quickly ran it around and over his cock and then tucked himself back into his trousers. Then he ran the washcloth over your lower body and legs, and you saw some streaks of blood on the cloth. I was right, you thought, he did damage me. He also saw the blood, and you saw a small smile appear on his lips. He began speaking to you as he continued to cleanse you, the grey eyes regarding you, his face serious.

“Good, very good - I’m pleased with you. You took my cock well, and apart from at the very start, didn’t fight it. It’s the best plan of action for you, little dove. Remember that. Never resist, just take it inside you without question when I want to fuck you, and things will go well between us.”

You nodded, but you were also annoyed at yourself. You’d felt pleased when he praised you. This guy had just taken your virginity - yes you’d agreed but not willingly - but now you were also happy about it? Your conflicted feelings really confused you.

Pouring another glass of water, he encouraged you to sit up and drink it. You struggled further up the bed and sat against the pillows, wiping the last traces of tears from your face as you did so.

You spotted your destroyed robe on the floor next to the bed, and leant down to retrieve it. It was promptly grabbed out of your hand and tossed to the far side of the room. He frowned over at you, “Now that I’ve seen you naked, that’s how I want you to be whenever we’re together.” You hung your head, nodding your understanding.

His eyes raked over your body, unashamedly staring at every inch of you. You blushed furiously; firstly, you weren’t used to anyone seeing you naked and secondly, you definitely weren’t used to anyone staring at you for so long while you were naked. Unconsciously your hands came up to cover your breasts and as before, he leant forward and pulled them away so that your breasts were visible to him again.

“No! What did I tell you??!!”

Your eyes filled again, and you whispered, “Not to cover myself, moi soverennyi.”

You picked up the glass of water and took a sip. As you did so, his hand shot out and grabbed one of your breasts, pinching the nipple as he did so. You jumped in shock, spilling your water down your chin and onto your chest. His thumb delved into the rivulet of water, rubbing the water across both of your breasts. Your nipples stiffened as the cold water hit them, and he bent down and licked the water off them and your breasts.

He sat back up, leaning forward and running his tongue over your wet chin and lips. “Put the glass down, now.” You hurried to do so, nearly missing the bedside table in your haste. “You need to get used to me touching you, woman. You’re mine to touch, wherever and whenever I want to. That’s how it is now. Understand?”

You nodded, eyes cast down. As if to further prove what he’d just said, he very deliberately placed his hands on your breasts and massaged them, for what felt like long minutes. He licked and bit your nipples while you squirmed, yelping at each touch. Suddenly his face was right in front of yours, his icy eyes staring intensely into yours.

He moved one hand downwards, and a long finger slid into you intrusively. You shot backwards, but he pulled you forward again with the hand that had remained on your breast. It returned there, and he continued roughly kneading at it, making you wince in pain. The finger inside you was joined by another one, and he thrust them abruptly in and out of you.

Suddenly his mouth was on yours, and you felt his tongue prodding at your closed lips. He drew back, “Open!” you heard, before his mouth was once again on yours. You parted your lips and his tongue slid past them into your mouth, invading it totally and moving over your own tongue.

This, combined with what his hands and fingers were busy doing, began to make you feel as if a tsunami was approaching you. You felt his thumb at your opening, rubbing, rubbing at you and suddenly that tsunami broke over you, and you screamed into his mouth, your body shuddering. He sat back, a triumphant look and a devilish smirk on his face. Your head dropped back onto the pillows, you were panting as if you’d just run a kilometre.

“That, my dear little dove, was your first orgasm. In other words, a sexual climax. Did you enjoy it?” he said in a languid tone. You looked at him, blushing deeply. There was no use lying, he could see that you did, so you nodded. “What do you say to me, hmm?” You were puzzled, “I don’t know.” He shook his head, “No manners. You thank me.” Now you understood. “Every time I give you an orgasm, you need to thank me.” “Thank you, moi soverennyi.”

A thought struck you. “Why did you call me ‘woman’ earlier? You always called me ‘girl’ before?”

“I’ve taken your virginity, and now you’re a woman, no longer a girl. But you have to learn how to behave like one. None of this shyness, jumpiness, hiding yourself. You have a beautiful, sensuous body which I will touch when I want to, and I will also have sex with you when I want to. I hope I don’t have to keep repeating this. Your duty is to submit to me always, it’s what you’ve agreed to.”

Your heart sank. He’d said ‘always’. You’d thought that maybe he’d keep you for a couple of weeks and then release you from your arrangement, and life would go back to normal.

You tried your damndest not to sigh as you said, “Yes, I did agree to that, moi soverennyi.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He’d lain next to you in the bed, on top of the covers while you’d sneaked under them, a chill raising goosebumps on your naked body. There was no protest from him, for which you were grateful. Your eyes drooped, you were emotionally and physically drained. You slept.

A hand was shaking your shoulder. Your eyes flew open, and for a split second you were totally disorientated. It was still dark outside. Then you saw his grey eyes staring into yours, and it all came flooding back. To put it bluntly, you were The Darkling’s new concubine.

You realised that he was now also under the covers, and with a shock, you saw bare muscled shoulders. Which meant that he was in bed with you, also naked. He’d waited until you’d fallen asleep before undressing, you thought. You tried to subtly move further away from him, but his arm snaked around your waist and dragged you against him.

“Moi soverennyi... why have you woken me?”

“Why do you think, little dove?”

You realised that this was to be your life from now on.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[rejectofsociety]

prompt: “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but… you need to know something.” xxx

thank youuu! I hope this is alright!

Peter stood at the edge of the skyscraper, staring down at the city below him. He was beginning to despise New York. It was so vast and went on as far anyone could see— it was like a fucking ocean. It felt endless like a void, but also like maze where every turn was a dead end. It felt so, so terribly cramped.

He liked the sky, though. It was pure black which maybe should have intimidated him, but instead made him feel as close to peaceful as he could. He envied the sky and everything in it— there were no limits in the sky. He saw the occasional airplane or jet (rarely birds, not in the depths of the city, and not this high up), and he was jealous of all the space the plane had. The plane never had to worry about being cramped.

This sky was nice, but he wanted to see more. He wanted to see more stars than he could count and hear owls and crickets creating a symphony for everyone to hear— even though there were few people to hear it. (But that was the point).

Since he had started dating Michelle back in high school, he had dreamed of taking her out of New York— maybe to Colorado or Wyoming, he heard they were pretty states. They could stare at the sky in the dead of night— with all the stars decorating it like diamonds on a necklace— until they were too tired to keep their eyes open another second.

Peter dropped into a crouch and buried his head in his hands. Fuck. Where are you, MJ? He thought with dread. The last text she had sent him still loomed over his head and ate at his heart:

[The Amazing MJ 🖤]: I’ll be home in a few minutes. Can’t wait to see you ❤️

He hadn’t seen her in a week, and it felt like she was only getting further from him with every passing day. And the longer he was away from her, the harder it was for him to breathe. Sometimes it felt like there was no oxygen left in the world and he could only sit there, gasping for air that didn’t exist, as his lungs felt empty and sore.

He hadn’t slept since her disappearance either and rarely ate. The deprivation of everything was making it harder for him to continue his search. He knew he needed rest, but not right now. It wasn’t a good time. (It was never a good time, though).

He knew she hadn’t left him, but he almost wished she had. If she left him, at least he could have some reassurance that she was probably safe. But if someone had hurt her or even….

Don’t think about it, Spidey, he scolded himself.

Then, there was a soft thump behind him, so quiet that he only heard it because of his enhanced hearing. Peter’s heart skipped a beat in surprise and he whirled around to face none other than Black Cat. She stood a few feet away with her silver wig stirring in the breeze and her brown eyes staring down at him keenly.

“What do you want,” Peter hissed, his muscles tensed and coiled— ready to fight.

Black Cat didn’t budge, unintimidated by the hero. She knew he would be jumpy, considering both his situation, and amount of times she had fought, hurt, betrayed, and fucked him over.

Then she said, in an almost gentle tone:

“I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but… you need to know something.”

Peter’s eyes went a little wide and his muscles relaxed slightly, but only because of how vulnerable he was. “What is it?” He demanded.

“I know where your wife is,” she stated, and for the first time in a long time, Peter’s breath was taken away, but not in a bad way.

He was inches away from Black Cat in a split second and gripped her shoulders desperately. She didn’t flinch away, knowing how upset Peter was over this whole thing— and she didn’t blame him in the slightest. (After all, how would she feel if Peter had suddenly disappeared on her? Not that she meant anything to him.)

“I know you’re worried,” she said, touching his arm lightly, “but you really need to be careful here, okay?”

“Just talk to me, Cat,” he demanded, “did you do something to her? Is this some sick joke?!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” she shushed quickly, “you need to listen, okay? Green Goblin suspects…” she lowered her voice as if they could be overheard on the isolated roof, “Pete, Norman is this close to finding out you’re Spider-Man.”

Peter inhaled sharply and hesitated, “and he knows me… he knows MJ is my wife.”

“Exactly. He took her after she left her work a few days ago, and he’s waiting for you. If Spider-Man shows up to save Peter Parker’s wife— otherwise unprompted— he will know.”

Peter stepped back and drew in a shaky breath, considering the situation. Black Cat watched the way the eyes of his suit narrowed calculatively, and she wished she could see what kind of plan he was putting together.

“Okay…” Peter finally said after a while, “this… this fucking sucks. But I got an idea, and I need your help.”

Part Two!

[1000fiction]

Day 8: Menstrual Sex ft. Cicero

Relationship:  M/F

Species: Unspecified

Warnings: Vaginal Sex, Period sex

Summary: Mother nature is a cruel mistress, but when relief is required from her most painful bounty, the listener and her keeper seek each other in their most vulnerable moment. 

The listener was absent – Cicero observed unamused. Whilst this was not strange, it was strange for him to not be informed. Had she gone on a contract? No, she would have surely asked for his company as she always did. It was then a realisation hit him, and quickly he counted the days since her body's last purge. It was most certainly the correct week, and so it was likely the listener was indeed hiding away in her private quarters.

Such a day was one of few excuses to leave his mother unattended, and instead spoil his listener as he longed to do daily. He was swift about gathering necessities, a soft towel, a clean cloth, a full jug of water, and two sweet rolls. It was safe to assume she hadn’t eaten, and heaven forbid he attempt to feed her something healthy on the heaviest day of her flow.

He hesitated briefly – as he always did – outside her door, the words “my door is always open to you, sweet keeper” echoing quietly in his head before he finally shouldered it open.

He found her as predicted, reclining against the headboard with her knees tucked as tight as she could to her chest, a towel clenched firmly between her bare legs, and Nazir’s handwritten contracts littering the bed, evidence of a desperate want of distraction. He took a moment, as he quietly closed the door, to take in her appearance. No bright eyes, no welcoming smile, she was tired, pained, and considerably disheveled. No doubt, his listener was suffering from an intense flow, mother nature demanding compensation for such a gentle cycle the previous month.

“Fret not dear listener, your keeper is here to take care of you.” His voice was music to her ears as he began his ritual, a tired smile gracing her features for the first time today.

Hydration came first, and the keeper sat at her side, idly tracing the skin of her thigh as she drank from the jug. Having drunk her fill, he swept at her chin, wiping away the stray droplets that had trickled there.

Second came appearance, just because one felt wrecked needn’t mean they look it, and it was quietly reassuring knowing one’s struggles aren’t visible to the world. Only to her keeper. The cloth was dampened with the remaining water, and gently the keeper swept it across her face, effectively erasing the crust from the night's restless sleep. He continued to clean her as far as he could reach, her neck, her collarbones, behind her ears, and even so far as to scrub at her fingernails.

Refreshed, and in good company, the listener had already begun to feel better, but that didn’t quell the intense pain her muscles were experiencing. Which led finally, to her physical condition. As gentle as he had been with everything so far, Cicero ordered them to roll over, arms folded to rest their head upon as they stretched out on their stomach. The old towel was taken, thrown into the empty jug, and he laid the new softer material beneath their pelvis.

The removal of his gloves was an intimate act in the listener's eyes, only the most important people in the jester’s life were allowed his naked touch, and she was one so lucky. The fragrance of a soothing balm met her nostrils as the scent permeated the room, the keeper smoothing it into his hands to ensure not a single callous scratched her skin. His weight made the bed dip, but he was careful to not lay too much of it upon his listener as he straddled their behind.

His hands were quick to work, firmly rubbing from the aching lower back to the tense shoulder blades. his hands were warm, thank Sithis, and she’d missed his touch. It was sincerely comforting to know the intimacy they shared, and the ministrations against the listener's skin had her mind drifting from the pain to other, more pleasurable, thoughts.

He cared for her oh so well, jumping to tend to her needs without hesitation. He was skilled in far more than stealth and death. He knew how to please her, it was instinct, an old instinct that blurred the line between the personas of his past self and the jester she’d first met with the broken wagon. It would have been lovely though to indulge in, to read too deeply into, but the listener found herself thoroughly distracted by the growing bulge pressing against the curve of her rear.

The keeper, despite his dedication to his ‘family’, was still a man, and the feel of his listener's skin beneath bare fingertips never failed to awaken senses he’d usually bury beneath duty. The listener didn’t mind - as she consistently reminded - to assist with such matters, as his pleasure was her way of rewarding his dedication, and cicero did so love being rewarded.

The feeling of his growing cock had the listener arching into him, the keeper groaning as his listener presented herself to him. He bent to kiss at her neck in thanks, silently parting his clothes just enough to slip out his cock. It rested heavily against her, and he slowly rutted between her cheeks, the long drags synchronised with the stroking of his hands across her back.

She felt herself seep, though with blood or wetness she wasn’t sure, but the need was undoubtedly there. Her aching hole craved attention equally as much as her muscles, but only one was receiving such delicious attention. A quiet whimper left her lips, her hips rising higher.

Not one to keep his listener waiting, Cicero stuffed a pillow beneath her, he would never allow her to exert so much energy holding herself up when she was in so much pain. Comfortably supported, he rocked back, the head of his cock trailing the curve of her ass till it met the lips that concealed her quim. He pressed in, feeling slick and hot liquid against his sensitive skin, his trickle of precum mixing with her mess.

He knew some men were cowardly enough to cringe at such a sensation, but he felt there was no feeling more rewarding than pleasuring his listener and relieving her pain simultaneously.

She was tighter than usual, and her cunt gave resistance as he pressed his prick deeper into her. Reeling at the sensation, a sharp inhaled gasp sounding as he stretched her inner walls. The keeper keened, relishing for a moment as his listener welcomed him into her most private place.

His thrusts could hardly be called such, slow languid movement that caressed her inner walls with patience that inferred he’d be taking all the time in the world. His hands resumed their stroke along her back, the heels of his palms digging deep into her muscles as his cock sank deeper into her quim.

When blissfully hilted, he peppered the listener's neck and shoulders with feather-light kisses, a stark contrast to the weight he pressed into her.

The position didn’t allow for depth, but the pleasure was no less intense, and the heat from her companion seeped into her skin and soothed her, mind, body, and soul. Her eyes lost focus, and her head became empty of thought, the only sensation being complete relaxation over her entire being, as cicero once again resumed his torturously delicious motion.

His hips rolled without pause, and despite the slowly tightening knot in the pits of his stomach, his hands still soothed against his listeners back. His grin grew, chest swelling as he observed his listener drift in and out of reality, her teeth grazing the skin of her arm as uncontrolled gasps and moans dribbled from her mouth.

He picked up his pace imperceivably with each roll of his hips, and it was with the tightening of the listeners cunt around him, the release of her own rolling orgasm, and the dreamy unfocused pronunciation of his name that he braced his hands against her lower back, lifting his hips ever so slightly in order to thrust and finally chase his own release. He felt as if he were to burn up, the coil too tight to hold back, but the feeling of his listener around him too good to finish. He found himself lost in his orgasm; their title of listener thrown to the wind as their name flowed from his lips in gracious thanks. It was only in this moment they were his identity truly blurred, and the emotions she brought upon him made him feel far too human.

In a moment of indulgence, he pressed his body against hers, drinking in the smell of their sex on her skin, and kissing her behind the ear as she faded into very needed sleep.

“I love you.”