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#I was told there will be knotting I haven’t gotten to that part yet
loving-ricciardo · 4 months
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how are people surprised that an author that is openly a former fanfiction writer came out with an omegaverse book 😀 likely place for her to be ????
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iam93percentstardust · 3 months
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More kisses!!
pulling your lover in by their tie + “wanna practice?” (Maybe practicing for their wedding kiss?)
Hi fren! I already told you you're getting graduation kisses instead of wedding kisses, but what I didn't tell you is that you're also getting proposal kisses ;)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
~
“Mate me?” Tony asks casually two hours before Steve’s graduation.
Steve prompts drops his cufflinks.
“Oh shit,” he swears and drops to his knees looking for them. They’re solid gold and a gift from his mom, who had told him that she had once given them to his dad for his graduation. He definitely doesn’t want to lose them. Fortunately, he finds them fairly quickly and stands back up, only for Tony to immediately take them out of his hand and deftly fix them to his shirt himself.
It's only then that he has a chance to think about what Tony had just asked him. Steve can’t deny that he’s been thinking about asking Tony to bond with him. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s been thinking about officially making Tony his omega since before they even started dating, since the very first time he saw him at that party. He’d even almost asked him after winning the championship earlier in the year. The only thing that had stopped him had been, well, Tony.
It's not that he doesn’t know Tony loves him. He knows that very well. And he knows that Tony is all in about the two of them. He also knows that, despite how sweet he is and how loving he is and how committed he is, Tony can also be very skittish when that commitment is brought up. Steve knows now the full story of what had gotten Tony pulled from his first university, knows how much he had been fucked up by what had happened with those two alphas, so he’s never wanted to put any sort of pressure on him by pushing about a bond.
He never would have expected that Tony would bring it up first, and he especially never would have thought that Tony, who once thought it would be fun to fly to Venice for a single date on a whim, would bring it up so casually.
Tony grimaces at his tie and steps in close to retie it. The knot he goes with is about a thousand times fancier than the one Steve had chosen, which makes it all the more impressive that he barely even focuses on it as he asks, betraying only a hint of nerves, “Should I be concerned that you haven’t answered me yet?”
“No,” Steve denies, and it’s true. Tony has nothing to be concerned about, even if he doesn’t know it yet. “I’m just surprised.”
Tony raises an eyebrow. “That after almost four years together I want to bond with you?”
Steve gives him a Look. “No. That you, of all people, didn’t rent a hot air balloon and a megaphone to ask me in front of the entire graduating class.”
“Do you want me to rent a hot air balloon and a megaphone and ask you in front of the entire graduating class? I was under the impression you’d prefer it to be a private moment.”
“I do,” Steve says immediately because knowing Tony, he would somehow find a way to make a big production in the next two hours if Steve even gave him a hint of wanting something big and public. “But, sweetheart, you once sent me an entire jazz quartet for Valentine’s Day. I hope you won’t be offended for thinking you’d do something similar about this.”
“I’m not offended,” Tony assures him, and that’s good since he genuinely didn’t mean to imply that the casual way Tony had asked wasn’t enough. “I just… I don’t know. It’s been on my mind for forever, and you look so handsome standing there, I thought ‘wow, I really want this—just this—for the rest of my life,’ and it slipped out? Are you going to give me an answer sometime today?”
The tension breaks in a moment, and Steve laughs. His fingers find Tony’s own tie and reel him in to press their foreheads together. The air goes softer between them as they breathe together, chests rising and falling in unison.
“Yes,” he says once they’re both calmer. “Yes, I want to bond with you. I want to buy a dog and move into a house and raise a million kids together—”
“Okay, maybe not a million—”
“Alright, fewer than a million. See? I can compromise.”
Tony laughs and says firmly, “Three.”
“Three?”
“Two boys and a girl for them to dote on.”
“Sounds perfect,” Steve says, already thinking about it. “Three kids with your pretty brown eyes and your brilliant mind—”
“Or with your muscles the size of my head—”
“Oh, is that the only positive trait of mine that you can think of?”
“Well, honey, I didn’t think you want them to have your trait of picking every fight ever.”
Steve laughs and drops a kiss on the tip of Tony’s nose. “And it doesn’t matter how they present because we’ll never send them anywhere where that matters.”
Tony beams at him like he’s said the best thing he’s ever heard and not just acknowledged what they’ve known all along—that his dad is a terrible person who doesn’t deserve a son as incredible as Tony.
“And we’ll be the kind of parents who embarrass them in the grocery store—” Steve says.
“By kissing in front of the produce,” Tony agrees, nodding his head.
“Yeah,” Steve says softly, thinking about the long future stretching out ahead of them. “Wanna practice?”
“Always,” Tony says. And then they’re kissing, and it’s as soft and sweet as their first kiss in Natasha’s dorm room that Steve did for a dare. It’s perfect and beautiful, and he knows he says this about every kiss they share, but—
It’s the best kiss he’s ever had.
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kawowoa · 2 years
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housewardens helping you take your braids out pt.2
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synopsis : it’s been 3 months since you’ve gotten your braids done. it’s finally the day you’ve been dreading; the day you have to take them out. luckily, your dear boyfriend is (hopefully) there to help! hopefully he’ll make the process more quick and fun!
info : black reader, gn. reader, maybe ooc for vil
characters : vil , idia , malleus , azul
a/n : okay finally here’s part 2!! (read part 1 here if you haven’t yet) sorry this took so long, i accidentally deleted the draft n had to rewrite everything zzzz
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> vil schoenheit
vil had everything you needed to take them out, stuff you hadn’t thought about using too! oil? he got it, different types of combs and brushes? check, even a damn spray bottle mixed with leave in conditioner and water
before y’all even start taking the braids out, he drags you to the pomefiore bathrooms to wash your scalp and roots. he’ll go on and on about how you need to wash your braids at least once a month to prevent the gel buildup and how it soothes an itchy scalp!
he’d be the type to section off your braids, maybe four parts. he’ll tell you it’s to make sure you don’t miss a single braid
don’t even think about unraveling a single braid without some oil on your fingers, at least not around vil. he’ll smack your hand away and dump the oil bottle in your hands
never again will you take your braids out alone. god, vil makes everything more enjoyable. he’ll massage your back and hands whenever they start to hurt, if you get hungry he has snacks (never the good kinds but it’ll do)
when it comes to knots, vil would be so gentle. he’ll spray the hair before using a detangling brush. if he tugs too hard by accident, he’ll mutter an apology before continuing
just like leona, when they’re a few braids left, he’ll start to braid down your natural hair. but my god his braids hurts, he might as well braid your thoughts while he’s at it. if you complain their food tight, he’ll just say beauty is pain
> idia shroud
when you asked for his help, he was unsure if he wanted too. a new event boss was coming out that night! he needed to prepare but boyfriend duties come first
being a total shut in, he was very uneducated on taking out braids. occasionally he’d seen the videos you posted on your magicam story involving this stuff, but 9 times out of 10 he didn’t pay that much attention to it
nonetheless, you still explained the process to him without him needed to ask. how hard could this be anyway, to him, it was like beating a level 1 boss at player level 80. or so he thought
he was so scared to touch your hair. you could tell him a million times it’s okay and he’ll still hesitate, so much for that confidence he had
eventually he was comfortable enough to help you, not without something to calm his nerves though. playing his favorite movie helped a lot!
idia’s hands are fast. once he gets into a rhythm, the normal time it takes you to finish gets cut town by an hour or three. maybe it’s from all that typing and gaming he does, who knows
being such a considerate boyfriend, he brushes your hair for you. he’ll put your hair in a low ponytail (a style he sees a lot on your magicam story too) with his blue ponytail holder. he’ll even put his in a low ponytail too so y’all can match
> malleus draconia
anything you need help with, malleus is there so of course he’ll help you take your braids out
although, he did suggest using magic to have the braids gone in an instant but you shut that idea down. no magic is ever getting near your hair
he may never did this before, but he’s old and smart so he understands what to do without you explaining anything. the one thing he didn’t understand what cutting the braid, isn’t that worst than magic? he was still a teeny bit confused when you told him it’s not real hair but whatever, he just doesn’t use the scissors
he’ll tell you he read about some of the cultural background of braids (hours after you asked him, the two of you set up a time for him to come and help) , telling you about the new information he learned. he’ll ask you if the information is correct, if it is, he’ll memorize it, if not, he’ll ask you to correct him
honestly, expect him to take longer to undo one braid. he’s being slow on purpose, the longer he takes; the longer he gets to spend time with you
if it takes up the whole night because of him, oh well, he doesn’t care and neither do you
when you eventually finish, he’ll massage your scalp, brush your hair, even play in it. maybe he laced the brush or his hands with a sleeping spell (if that’s even possible) cause goddamn you were one second away from falling asleep
> azul ashengrotto
did you really expect him to agree without him getting anything in return? just ‘cause your his lover doesn’t mean your exempt from his shady business dealer things
the two of you had to start once the lounge closed, which wasn’t too late but knowing how much hair you have plus the amount of braids (depending on what size you prefer) you knew it was going to take a while
knowing azul, he’d take this opportunity to propose a business deal; a new salon within nrc, with you as a co-founder. you thought it was a strange idea but you still agreed, just to humor him
the two of you would converse a lot, talking about anything and everything. hours would go by and you wouldn’t even realize you’re half way finished
any knots he comes across, he’ll have you tend to it. he doesn’t want to mess up or cause you any pain
azul would also be fast at unbraiding. if you’re talking too long on one braid, he’ll take over and ask you to just start on another one
he’ll definitely complain about the mess when the two of you are finished. he’ll be super dramatic about how there’s hair everywhere when there really isn’t, just a pile of hair sitting on the desk
once you both finish cleaning, he’ll remind you of payment. what is it? oh, you have to stay over for the night
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justreadertings · 2 years
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Till Death Do Us Part Chapter 2
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Absolutely so excited about this chapter! The love for this fic has literally overtaken my life, I am so beyond grateful for the interactions of you all! I love our secret society where I give u chocolates and forehead kisses! Ok, without further ado... this chapter lol- Magee
masterlist
TW: brief mentions of violence, Lyria
Till Death Do Us Part- Chapter 2
“Fireheart, will you come here a moment?” 
Soulful green eyes bore into hers. Her stomach twitched with butterflies. 
“What do you think she wants?” Rowan whispered to her.
Aelin sighed into the floor. “I’m probably in trouble,” she reasoned. 
His laugh tickled her face. “Probably.” 
The two of them had always been able to read each other’s eyes- Aelin almost wished she had other friends, if only to boast about their connection. His eyes met hers very quickly, and they said, be careful. 
She shot him a doubtful look. You be careful.
That doesn’t even make any sense.
Aelin rolled her eyes, and scooted herself on her stomach out from under her bed. They were always in her room. Rowan had lost a bet to her a little bit ago, and now she got to pick where they played or talked. He said he didn’t mind, though. He liked that her room was so close to her parent’s room. Maeve’s room being across the hall from his had him all skittish, apparently.
Aelin left the door to her room open for him, even though she doubted he would leave his place from under her bed. They liked it down there. They could tell each other anything, and the whole palace full of people would never hear it. 
“Mama?” Aelin padded into her parent’s room. Both Aelin’s mother and Rowan’s aunt sat on the bed. Her father stood by the door, with a funny look on his face. Aelin only spared him a glance, more concerned with the two women. Both were beautiful in completely opposite ways, even with those funny looks on their faces. 
Aelin resembled her mother, both with their Ashryver eyes- the deepest blue with a golden ring of fire around them- tan skin, long blonde hair. Her mother was softer than Aelin was, for she’d gotten both her sharp jaw and wit from her father. 
Maeve was beautiful, too. Long dark hair, eyes like blackened seas, pale skin. Aelin had told them that her mama was the sun while Maeve was the moon. They’d laughed at that. 
But they weren’t laughing now. 
“Fireheart, we need to talk to you about something.” Her mother patted the bed between them. 
With caution she approached, and while she was old enough to easily climb onto the bed, Maeve still scooped her up from under her arms and placed her between them. Aelin would never mean it as an insult to her own mother, but sometimes she appreciated feeling like she had two. Both of her parents had done their fair share of raising Rowan, too, so it wasn’t as if she were thinking this out of the blue. She just appreciated the love that surrounded her. Her family was built of heart, they’d told her. Aelin had never doubted she was built of heart, too.
“What’d I do?” 
Both women snorted, and gave each other and her father looks. Aelin knew they were talking without really saying anything. 
“Nothing, sweety. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yet,” Aelin joked. 
Still, they did not laugh. No, they actually grew more serious. 
“We’ve always tried to be honest with you, Fireheart,” her mother began.
“And we don’t ever want you to feel as though we’ve kept something from you, or haven’t equipped you to prepare for this life,” Maeve said. 
Aelin’s stomach knotted. She only listened. 
They both glanced up to her father again, and he nodded. Her mother took a long breath. “You’re growing up, and you deserve to not only know self defense, but also know why it is so important that you have it.”
Aelin was only ten. She wasn’t sure that was ‘growing up.’ But her parents seemed awfully choked up about it. 
“Honey,” Evalin said, placing a hand on her jaw. “I’ve always told you that you are brave. And you are strong. And I believe it. So I have faith that you can understand this.”
Maeve spoke softer than Aelin had ever heard her, “There are people in this life who also see that power. That strength. They feel threatened by it.”
Aelin tried to turn her head to look at Maeve, but her mother held her face too securly. “There are people who have made a threat to you.” Aelin’s brave mother had tears forming in her eyes. “They have made themselves and their motives very clear.”
“But Rowan is powerful, too,” Aelin reasoned.
Evalin nodded. “You’re right. And he is not without danger. But…” Pretty tears rolled down Evalin’s face. Aelin stole a glance at her father, needing his strength and stability. But her brave papa looked every bit as moved as Maeve, the woman she’d only seen cry once, when both of her sisters had passed. The pit in Aelin’s stomach had become a crater.
“But you are a woman of the realm. And your blood, your-” Maeve stumbled on the words. “Your ability to bear children is priceless to these threatened men.”
Aelin did not understand. “Are they coming for me now?”
The woman on either side of her stole matching looks. Aelin had seen those faces over the war room table. But never in the place she’d been sung lullabies. “Perhaps,” her mother told her. “And perhaps not. The point is, is that we are being made to fear them. But fear is what can kill you, Aelin, more than any of these other threats.”
“You need to prepare, my sweet,” Maeve said. “Prepare yourself for what may befall you.”
Aelin couldn’t help but let fear crawl into her stomach. And into her hands. And feet. Very quickly, she found herself shaking all over.
Evalin took her face again. And Aelin had a feeling her mother was going to tell her something very important. She ignored the shaking in her body, and listened. “I have felt this fear since my birth. So has Maeve. So has my mother, and so will your daughters. And that can be cruel, and bitter, and taste like horrible anger and fear. But we are talking to you now, together, to show you that fear cannot hound your life. It will not. We are making you aware of these threats as to build up a tolerance to them. Because, Aelin. Fireheart. You will be built to beat them.”
-
Aelin was very used to feeling the wind knocked out of her. She’d actually grown comfortable with it. Or at least, she thought she did. But all of that comfort ended when that stunning woman opened her arms for her, pulling her into a tight embrace.
It went against all of Celeana Sardothian’s instincts. Celeana would have never been so vulnerable to a stranger. But she was not Celeana anymore. She couldn’t be- not with her home under her feet, and certainly not when Rowan was around. 
The hours she spent sobbing over him… wait. Where did that even come from? She blinked it away. Made herself focus on the infuriatingly gorgeous woman who’s arm had once again slipped back into Rowan’s. Her bronze skin and beautiful curls glowed in the light. Aelin was well aware she did not look herself right now. Well- she did not look like Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius. But this is how she looked for the past six years. Her brain once again felt like there was gravel in it. 
“You must be exhausted from your journey,” the woman- Lyria- said, voice like honey. She smoothed her pretty violet gown.
“Something like that.” Apparently, that was the best Aelin could come up with. That’s when she realized she’d opened her mouth, many seconds after she’d actually spoken. Her body and brain were not working in tandem right now.
She just couldn’t get over the word. Fiancée. That’s what Rowan had called Lyria. His fiancée. The beautiful ring adorning her perfect finger only proved it more. It had frozen her. Aelin knew she should be grateful Rowan wanted to share important people in his life with her. She knew she should take it as a good thing. But her instincts told her to challenge him, just as she had when they’d been small, and demand to know why their reunion was tainted by the likes of all of these people. They were not just acquaintances meeting up again. This was the boy who’d held her hand the first time she had to get stitches. This was the boy who’d taught her how to swim. This was the boy who’d once known her every secret, every desire. This was the boy who had sobbed and lost and loved and grown up with her. She did not accept this reunion. Did not accept that he could tolerate it, either. It was not enough.
“You’re like a legend,” Lyria told her with a smile. Aelin snapped out of her thoughts, and focused her attention on the woman. Even as Rowan’s eyes lingered on her expression. “Like a fairytale.” 
“Yes well, let’s get us settled back in. Give Her Highness time to… freshen up.” 
Kill him. That was Celeana’s impulse. Even though she knew up until two years ago Lord Darrow was Acting King upon her family’s mighty thrones, and killing him would result in treachery and tyranny and terror. Still, her impulse said: kill him. 
“Aelin?” 
Her eyes flitted toward Rowan. How she ever looked away was beyond her. His silver hair was cropped, his shoulders were… gods, they were so broad. He was tall and stunning, his eyes were everywhere on her, and she could feel it like a brand in her skin. He didn’t know what hearing her gods-given name meant to her. She could watch him say it all day, if only to assure herself that both he and the name were real. It seemed he was fine just looking his fill of her, too. Until those eyebrows of his narrowed in a way that was wholly familiar. That’s when she realized the bruise on her jaw had not faded entirely. Shit.
Rowan opened his mouth, and she braced herself for words from those beautiful lips-
“Your Highness?” 
Lord Darrow, the old brute, only gestured inside. Rowan’s mouth closed, but his eyes still knew how to talk to hers, and she could have sworn, we’ll talk later, was etched there.
Aelin watched as they filed in, the many men with sour looks upon their faces. The guards surrounding her with a claustrophobic level of carefulness. She braced herself for the storm she knew was already here. Tired to not think about how everyone was watching her every move- how Rowan seemed to still be watching her face as she finally stepped over the threshold, and into the palace. They were all making their assumptions on her rule based on the first moments she’d been allowed home since before she was even a woman yet. But she realized, standing in the kitchens, way back in the castle, with tables she used to just barely be able to reach, a woman she’d become. 
“Mama,” she whispered, ever so gently. Her fingers drifted across the sacred walls. She shut her eyes for a moment more, and pressed that hand to her heart. “I’m home.”
-
I sincerely, with my heart of hearts, hope that you don’t kill me. Much angst to come :) If you want to be added to the taglist, just lemme know! 
-
Taglist: @leiawritesstories​ @tomtenadia​ @fireheart-violet​ @backtobl4ck​ @morganofthewildfire​ @rowaelinismyotp​ @aelinchocolatelover​ @thegreyj​ @foughtconquered​ @swankii-art-teacher​
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ziusik · 1 year
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For the fanfiction writing ask meme: 12, 18, 24, 25, 43, 53, 72, 75 cheers!
Here we go!
12) Do you outline your fics?  If yes, how detailed are your outlines?  How far do you stray from them?
I...do not outline. I'm TERRIBLE at outlining/planning. The story unfolds as I go. I have a general idea of what I want the beginning/middle/and end to look like and where it wants to go, but outlining has never ever worked for me.
18) Do you enjoy research?  Which fic of yours required the most research?
I do! Sometimes it gets frustrating, but for most part, I find it fun and interesting. I think the most research-intensive fic was "Bound with a Same-Heart Knot" (the Victorian yizhan AU) & a friend of mine (a historian) was a great help in that regard.
24) How do you choose whose POV to write in?
Someone once said that you should write in the POV of the person who knows least, for several reasons. I've done that. I've also alternated POVs, as well, quite a bit. I think the story tells you whose POV you need to be in—who's got the most to lose, who's the most oblivious, whose heart has to change, etc. Sometimes it really does call for both, because otherwise the story will be incomplete. So it's both a feeling and a conscious decision.
25) What’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?
The writing. Definitely the writing. The writing is where my brain comes alive, where the story actually unfolds, where I have the most fun. World-building is SUPER fun, and I think I consider it part of the writing itself, with the way I write. I like to say I'm not a storyteller, I'm a writer, bc if you told me to tell you a story without writing it out, I couldn't do it. But once I start writing, I can give you a novel.
43) Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?
I haven't written enemies to lovers, really, and I would like to, but I'm not entirely sure I can. I would like to think I could, but we'll see. Maybe someday.
53) What is the most-used tag on your ao3?
Pining while fucking. lol. It's where I live.
72) What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?
Whenever I make anyone cry, my powers grow. So if someone tells me they cried when they were reading something of mine, I get SO happy. It means that my writing has touched someone and made them feel deeply, and that's the highest compliment anyone can give me.
75) Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?
Hmm. I never really expected that my mpreg fics would get the attention that they have. I really thought they were going to be niche little things, but they are some of my most popular stories. It's pretty great! I love it.
Ask me more questions from here!
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mypoisonedvine · 3 years
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𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader
(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐)
𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || your newest client asks you to give him a real challenge, and you’re happy to oblige.  
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 6.3k
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut but no actual sex (lots of handjob stuff though and some brief oral m receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, more cnc (because of the overstimulation), bondage, edging, impact play (riding crop), brief cock torture (she just hits him with the crop a couple times), implied “kink as trauma response” (this is gonna be a theme throughout the whole fic), forced to break a rule/doomed to fail/impossible challenge (idk how to warn for this but yeah), forced voyeurism?, thigh riding (reader rides bucky’s thigh), some degradation/dumbification, brief/implied dacryphilia, a bit of angst/feelings
new parts posted on thursdays!  join the taglist here
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“Can’t,” he sighed, “can’t come again.”
He looked so painfully adorable when he begged like that, his brow glistening with sweat as he jerked under your touch.  “Aw, poor baby,” you pouted, twisting your hand when it stroked over the head of his cock, “yes you can.  I know you can.  Just gimme one more.”
“F-fuck,” he whimpered, “Mistress, please— just stop, please, I can’t… can’t take any more…”
“I know you can, sweetheart— I know you can be my good boy and keep coming for me.  Tell me your color.”
“Yellow,” he whispered.
“Think you’re almost done?” you pressed, smiling when he nodded breathlessly.  “Yeah, there’s my good boy— gonna come again for your Mistress?”
“Yes,” he breathed, baring his teeth as his hips bucked wildly to try to avoid further sensation, “y-yes, one more, just one more, I’m gonna— fuck, gonna come, just don’t stop… fuck, it hurts.”
“I know, but you’re being so good for me,” you purred.  “You like it when I milk your pretty cock, don’t you?  Even though it hurts?”
He winced but nodded.  “C-coming, Mistress, fuck, I’m coming…!”
Since it was his fifth of the evening, he could only give you one thick drop of come that gathered at his slit before running down over your hand which finally slowed to a stop.
You both sighed with relief as you pulled your hand away and leaned back, admiring how beautiful he looked as he caught his breath, covered in come and sweat.
"Good job," you praised with a chuckle, "I hope I didn't go too hard on you."
"N-no, that was… that was really good," he sighed, slumping back onto the bed.  "Can I use your shower before I go?"
"Yeah, totally," you nodded.
After a long pause, you gave him a confused look.  
"I thought you were gonna shower?" you reminded him.
"Oh… I guess I have to get up for that," he sighed, making you laugh.
"Rest a bit longer.  You've had a… challenging afternoon."
He nodded a little and you got up from the bed to go wash your hands and freshen up a little, smiling at your own appearance in the mirror— sometimes you forgot how you looked when you did this, but there was an undeniable aura of power around you… especially after a session like that.
This was only your third week with James, and already the dynamic felt so natural between you— and yet, so fresh compared to your other clients.  Normally it took longer for a newbie to get comfortable with you, yet most of them had had multiple doms before and here was James, totally inexperienced and taking it all like a champ.  There was an air of innocence about him, you figured, in contrast to this undeniable strength and intensity that you caught glimpses of from time to time.
Sometimes, it felt like he was chasing an innocence he lost a long time ago.  Whatever it was that drew him to this, you were happy to help him along the way.
It was probably a little dangerous to enjoy sessions with a client so much; even though you often pretended that everything was about your pleasure and not theirs, obviously since they were the paying customer it was the complete opposite in reality.  But there was an equity to the dynamic with you and Bucky, he served you with a real dedication rather than for his own gain.  And you, meanwhile, had rediscovered the fun in this career that had originally drawn you to it in the first place.  It was less like a science now, more like an art— you let yourself go with your instincts and do whatever felt right in the moment, and both of you benefitted for it.  
“Come on, get up and clean yourself off,” you encouraged— gently, of course— as you left the bathroom and returned to find James laying sprawled out on the bed.
“I know you said falling asleep here was a one-time courtesy,” he remembered with a smile, “but I could use it now a lot more than I needed it then.”
Honestly, you didn’t see him smile that often.  It was pleasant; you hoped to see it again.  He did get up, though, and take the washcloth you handed him to wipe off the come that had gotten all over him.  “What are you thinking for next week?” you asked as you leaned against the wall.  “Any special requests?”
“We can discuss all that over the phone,” he decided.  You still didn’t understand fully why he didn’t like to discuss future scenes in person; it was like he wanted the in-person interactions to be as ‘in character’ (if you will) as possible.
“Alright, just keep me updated,” you requested with a shrug.
You got changed while he took his shower, and when he emerged to the living room he seemed surprised to see you sitting on your own couch.  After a moment, you realized it was the fact that you were in normal clothes that threw him off.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before… or pants of any kind.”
You looked down at your outfit with a smile, glad it was at least still professional and not sweats and a t-shirt or something.  “Yeah, I guess you haven’t.  First time for everything, right?”
“Yeah, had a lot of first times with you,” he chuckled.  “Most significantly less mundane than this.”
A brief silence filled the room but it wasn’t exactly awkward, at least not for you.
“Well, I’ll see you next week,” he decided as he grabbed his jacket from your chair and slipped it on.  You’d been spending most of this session trying to forget how good he looked in the leather motorcycle cut, so that was out the window now as you tried to keep from visibly biting your lip while he walked towards the door.
Damn, he was fine.  But there were more pressing matters at hand.  Like preparing yourself and your apartment for your next appointment.  This guy wanted to get slapped around until he cried… shouldn't be too difficult, but your arms would probably be sore tomorrow.
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Opposite of last week, I really want you to edge me tonight, as long as possible.
Don't go easy on me, make me hold it in.  I need a challenge this week.
-J
It was odd how emails from James made your week.
He seemed to prefer to communicate his desire with you this way; maybe it was easier for him, and you couldn’t really blame him for that.  The nice part was that you didn’t have to temper your reactions, if you had any, since you were always alone when you got his messages.  You might be old hat at it now, but you could remember a time that you had to hide a grimace when a client told you to your face what he wanted.  Not that you would shame them for it or anything (unless, you know, they paid you to), but you didn’t enjoy everything you did with these men.
Did you enjoy everything you did with James?  Yes, but you were pretending not to— for your own sake.
You dressed a bit differently for today’s session, more conservatively… not that it was especially conservative by any other person’s standards.  But it left your legs and chest covered, somewhat in the spirit of ‘mean corporate businesswoman’ aesthetically.  For some reason you felt like using a riding crop required wearing pants.
James certainly didn’t seem to mind, with the way he nervously cleared his throat after you opened the door.
“Good to see you again,” you greeted formally, “please, come in.”
He stepped past you, still looking at you and not at what was in front of him, meaning he ended up slamming himself gut-first into your kitchen island.
“Oh!  Are you alright?” you smiled when you noticed. 
“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded, rubbing his stomach for a second but recovering quickly.  “I told you I can take a lot of pain,” he joked.
“Well, we’re going to put that to the test today,” you promised cryptically.  “You must’ve seen the crop on the table.”
He nodded again.  “Yeah....”
“Are you looking forward to it?”
“Yes,” he answered, a bit too quickly.
“Then let’s get you tied up, James.”
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Straddling his lap, you realized the rope was a bit too tight when you saw it digging into his skin; maybe he wouldn’t mind that, but you did, so you pushed the rope back through itself to loosen it slightly.
“How long did it take you to learn all these knots?” he asked casually, watching your fingers nimbly work the ropes around his wrists.
“Not too long,” you shrugged, “I’ve only been doing this a few years… but I knew them before that.”
“Boating school?  Boy Scouts?” he suggested jokingly.
“Just a hobby,” you decided, dodging the covert question about your past.  “Were you a Boy Scout?”
“Do I look like a Boy Scout?” he countered with a scoff.
“Not anymore,” you shrugged, “but I bet you did once.  You’re sorta innocent, you know.”
He swallowed dryly, and you raised an eyebrow as you glanced from the knot you were tightening to his face, which looked a bit flustered.  “R-really?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed, leaning back on your heels to look at him straight-on.  “Are you surprised to hear that?”
He nodded quickly, and you laughed.
“Aw, you thought you were so kinky, huh?  So dirty,” you purred, running your hand up his leg until he tugged slightly on the newly-tied ropes— a subtle way to get him to test them for you.  “But you’re really not.  You’re just my sweet, innocent boy.”
He whined— really, properly whined— and you dug your nails into his skin until he hissed instead.
“I don’t think you believe me,” you noticed, leaning back to reach for the crop behind you.  “You think you’re so filthy and perverted, right?  Are you a pervert, James?”
“Yes,” he breathed, shivering as you let the crop slide gently over his skin— his abs, his hips, his legs which were already quivering so adorably.  “Yes, Mistress.”
“And how’s that?”
“I think about… getting hurt,” he admitted weakly, “when I touch myself.  And I touch myself all the fucking time.”
“Yeah?  How many times a day do you stroke that pretty cock, James?”
“Twice every morning,” he blurted out, “after that it depends.”
You didn’t let yourself show your surprise at that number.  “Depends on what?”
When he hesitated, you hit him sharply on the thigh and he winced.  “Depends on what I… what I end up thinking about.  Sometimes… sometimes something reminds me, and I have to get off.”
Something told you not to press on what it was that he needed to be reminded of, and why it made him want to jerk off so bad.  Something told you he wasn’t ready to tell that story yet.  “Did you touch yourself today already?” you asked instead.
“No, no ma’am,” he shook his head, voice wavering as you brushed the crop over his chest, “it’s… it’s different with you.”
“Yeah, I bet it is,” you smirked, hitting him on the stomach quickly.  “I bet you’re finally satisfied, right?  Nothing’s ever worked for you before.”
“Yes,” he moaned, crying out slightly when you hit him on the arm (flesh— you were too afraid what sound the metal one would make) much harder than before.  “The nights I see you, I… I can sleep.”
“You sleep better?”
“No, I just… sleep.”
You tried not to react to that, moving to a new question instead.  “Do you want me to hit you again?  Or do you want me to stroke your cock for you?”
An obvious choice to some, surely, but he seemed to really struggle with it.
“Which one do you think you deserve?” you asked instead.
“Hit me more,” he decided.
Instantly, you struck him once on the face and again on the shoulder, then moved down to his legs for three in a row in spite of the way his body jerked away instinctively.  
“Fuck,” he sobbed, “don’t stop— I need more…”
You focused on his legs, on the inside of his thigh where he seemed the most sensitive.  His twisted joy turned to true fear, though, when you brushed the end of the crop over his balls.  “Do you want me to hit you here?” you challenged.
“I… I don’t know,” he stammered.
“Let’s make a deal, James,” you offered, “wherever I hit you, I’m gonna kiss it to make it better.”
“Then hit me wherever you want,” he nodded, almost smiling at you.  He cried through his teeth when you whipped his shaft with the crop— not especially hard, in fact quite delicately, though the second was harder.  And the third, though not much more aggressive, was right on the sensitive tip; his eyes shot open and his hips jerked away.
“So good, such a good boy,” you whispered proudly, putting the crop aside to lean in and kiss his cheek where you’d hit him before, his shoulder, his arm.
You worked your way down carefully as he breathed heavily beneath you, whimpering slightly when you kissed his thighs and notably ignored his flexing, leaking cock.  “Please,” he whimpered.
“Shh, be patient,” you soothed, “be my good boy.”
“Your good boy,” he repeated, trying to restrain himself but already bucking up into the air again, “fuck, wanna be your good boy, Mistress.”
“Are you already close, pet, just from getting hurt?” you asked in a faux pout.  “You’re not gonna come if I give your pretty cock some kisses, right?”
“I— I won’t come,” he promised.  “Not until I get permission.”
“Baby, it’s gonna be a long fuckin’ time before you get permission,” you promised with a toothy grin.  “Look down at me, honey, I want you to see this.”
He hesitated for a second but obeyed, looking down at you with an expression that was full of awe as you gripped his cock and gave gentle, teasing kisses up his shaft.  It bobbed in your hands with each one, and he let out the most beautiful sigh when you kissed the tip carefully.
A wide lick made him jerk beneath you.  “F-Fuck,” he stammered.
“You said you wouldn’t come,” you reminded him.  “Can I keep going?  Are you gonna be a good boy?”
“Don’t stop, please,” he breathed, “I’ll be good.”
Taking the head between your lips, you suckled gently as he shivered and moaned.  You weren’t sure you’d ever been with anybody— on or off the clock— who was so sensitive.  And you loved it, honestly; who could resist those precious noises he made?
As much as part of you wanted to go nuts and really push him to the edge, you tried to be gentle and careful so as not to make it impossible for him to hold back.  But even then, when you gently grasped his balls in one of your hands and squeezed them, he apparently couldn’t take anymore.
"S-stop," he hissed, and you pulled back, sitting up.
"You were close?" you asked, and he nodded a little.  "Oh, what a good boy."
He whimpered briefly.  "Yes, your good boy, Mistress…"
Your fingers trailed delicately up the underside of his cock, making him shiver violently.  "I know you want to come, but you want to be good even more.  You're such a sweet little pet."
It seemed like the praises did more to keep him on the edge than the touches, so you kept both going; wrapping your fingers around the ridge of his head, you gave the most gentle and subtle strokes, and leaned in to whisper against his ear.
“Is this why you wanted me to edge you today, James?  So you could show me how good you can be?” 
“I-I don’t know,” he blurted out, rocking his hips as best he could while restrained, “I just wanted to… I just wanted you to make me wait.”
“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” you laughed slightly, “I can make you wait all day.  Is that what you want?”
“No, that’s— not that long, I can’t wait that long,” he shuddered.
“Mm, that sounds like your problem, not mine,” you smirked.  “Not sure why I asked what you want, honestly… cause I don’t fucking care.”
His choked-out whine was too perfect to ignore.
“Oh, what a pathetic little moan that was, poor baby,” you cooed mockingly, “are you regretting it now?  You’re probably wondering what you got yourself into, ‘cause you’re worried Mistress is never gonna let you come.”
“No, I don’t regret it,” he denied weakly, “whatever you want— do whatever you want to me, just… give me what I deserve, please.”
You stopped touching him completely and he straight-up sobbed.  “You don’t deserve anything from me, James.  You don’t deserve me at all.”
He told you before that he liked when you rapidly cycled between soft and mean.  Kept him on his toes, apparently.  Honestly, you felt a little guilty talking to him that way sometimes, but his cock leaking enough pre-cum to soak the bedsheets beneath him was a sign you were doing something right.  “I know!” he cried.  “I know, fuck, I’m sorry, but I need you.  I fucking need you, Mistress, please— you know I’ll do anything.”
“I’m feeling generous today,” you shrugged, “so I won’t ask you for much.  Just beg me a little more.”
“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” he rushed, “touch me.  Anywhere, whatever you want, I just need to feel you.  I know I… fuck, I know I don’t deserve it, but let me try to— to earn it.  Please.”
You knew if he had it his way, he wouldn’t do much talking at all.  But you couldn’t just let him have it his way, now could you?  It was better to make him just the right amount of nervous, just the slightest hair uncomfortable, by making him talk to you.  And, of course, you liked the way his deep and rough voice got all whiny and needy like this.
One finger under his chin guided him to look up at you, those pretty blue eyes watery and sparkling and wide with misplaced innocence.
“Tell me who you belong to, James,” you instructed darkly.
“You, Mistress,” he whispered, “I’m yours, I— oh fuck…”
Unshockingly, he was reduced to only moans again when you started stroking his cock, the slick precum making every movement smoother.  “All mine, huh?  My little toy?” you confirmed, but he could only nod and swallow thickly.
You sped up quickly, getting faster and faster until you were really, properly jerking him off and he was biting hard on his lip.  Just when he seemed to really fall into it, get almost comfortable, you had to stop.
"Oh, fuck—" he gasped, bucking his hips up to try to chase your hand when you pulled away, but it was no use with him tied up.  You watched his cock bob in the air and smiled.
“Did you think it was going to be that easy?” you smirked.
Shaking his head, you tilted yours to look at him, reaching up to trace your fingers over his chest.  
“Don’t lie, baby, you thought I was gonna let you come, didn’t you?  You’re so sweet, James, and so, so stupid.”
He gasped, and for a second you thought you might’ve gone too far, but it shifted to a moan quickly and you realized he was having the time of his life.
“Just my dumb, brainless little toy,” you continued with a snarl, watching him tug at the ropes as his eyes fluttered shut.  “It’s okay, James, it’s okay… you don’t need to think, I don’t want your mind.  It’s useless.  I want this pretty cock, that’s all I want from you.”
“It’s all yours, Mistress,” he promised, cheeks burning bright red and eyes forced shut.  “All of it, I swear.”
“I know,” you cooed, holding his face gently to soothe him a bit.  But then your other hand wrapped around his cock and he was anything but soothed.  “Shh, shh, don’t make any sounds, you’re just a toy and toys need to stay quiet.”
You missed his noises, actually, but he looked so cute biting his lip and struggling to suppress them.  His cock was so swollen in your hand that you honestly wondered if it was somehow getting bigger.  Was that even possible?  Your mouth was watering regardless.
“I’m gonna give you a little break,” you promised gently, “but I’ll be honest, pretty boy… I don’t think you’re gonna like it one bit.”
The look he gave you beautifully balanced fear with anticipation, and you stopped stroking him to reach over towards the bedside drawer and pull out a vibrator.
“Your Mistress is feeling a little.... self-indulgent today,” you winked.  “And since I, unlike you, don’t need to hold myself back from coming, I think I might as well get myself off if I want to.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly, watching you closely as you stood up off the bed and started to carefully undress yourself.  It was a lot more fun to get naked when you were wearing something that didn’t actually show much skin— the button-up seemed to really get him going, his tongue mindlessly darting out to lick his lips as you opened one button at a time.
Once it was off your shoulders and on the floor, and he could see the almost-transparent bra you had on, you moved to opening your trousers as well.  Just to be mean, you faced the other way as you pushed them down over your ass; you heard his breath catch and you smirked to yourself, spinning to face him again in just the matching, dark red bra and panty set.
“What do you think, do you like this better than the black ones?” you asked coyly.
“I like you naked better than both,” he answered, and you grinned.
“I’m gonna let that backtalk slide just once because it’s not worth my time to go over there and slap you for it,” you decided.  “But don’t test me, James.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he answered dutifully, sounding a bit out of breath as he watched you climb back onto the bed, positioning yourself carefully.
You faced him straight-on and laid your legs over his, meaning your lace-covered pussy was in full view and only inches from his leaking cock— the damn thing looked sore by now, purple at the tip and just as desperate for attention as the rest of him.
When you pulled the fabric aside to show him your cunt, he hissed and looked away.
“Look at me, James, keep your eyes open,” you demanded, seeing how totally wrecked he looked when he turned his head back to you and stared down at your body with half-lidded eyes.  “Look at how fucking soaked my pussy is.  You remember how it feels to be inside it, don’t you?”
He swallowed, sighed, and finally (just barely) nodded.
“You remember how hot and wet and tight it is, don’t you?”
“Y-yes,” he choked.
“Well, that memory’s all you’ve got to work with, sweet boy, because I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you fuck this pussy again.”
He really, properly sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks, and those arms flexed against the ropes defiantly.  “N-no, please—” 
“I’m gonna make myself come with this,” you promised, interrupting him as you grabbed the vibe, “and I want you to remember how it feels when I come around you, okay?  
Turning it on, you wasted no time pressing it to your clit, moving the end of the toy in slow circles and keeping a close eye on him as he watched you.  Your intention had always been to give him a show, but the embarrassing thing was how little of it was an act.  Ironically, even though you’d been edging him this whole time, having to touch him that way without any pleasure for yourself was almost as torturous.  You’d soaked through your panties by the time you had him tied up, to be totally honest.  So, giving into it and letting yourself feel good was a breeze.
“Think about when I was riding you, James,” you instructed, your own voice clearly affected by your pleasure now.  “Think about how good it would feel if I let you come inside me.”
“Oh, god,” he cried, leaning his head back.
“Think about my pussy milking every fucking drop of come out of you.  You know I wouldn’t let you stop until I was completely full of your come, I bet you’d like that.  I bet you’d like to eat your come out of me, you sick little pervert.”
“Fuck!” he yelped, tugging at the ropes harder now— for a second you thought he might really break them and jump you.  And for a second, you knew you’d let him.  It made your walls clench as you imagined facing the consequences of driving a man to the brink of insanity until he couldn’t help but fuck you like an animal.  It was a good thing he didn’t see you bite your lip as you imagined that.
“You know what I’m thinking about?” you taunted.  
“God, don’t tell me,” he sighed through his teeth, but obviously you ignored him.
“I’m thinking about what a good boy you are for me,” you cooed, your hips starting to rock up against where you held the end of the vibrator; you pressed it down harder onto your clit and moaned instantly.  “Yeah, I’m thinking about how pretty you look when you’re all desperate and needy and fucking pathetic—”
“Oh—” he choked.
“My dumb litlte whore, that’s all you are, James,” you groaned.  “I know you wish you could touch me, it’s all you can think about, right?  That pretty head of yours would be completely empty if it weren’t for thoughts of me and how badly you want me.  Right?”
“Yes,” he whispered huskily.
A shiver ran up your spine when the vibrator bumped into a more sensitive part of you, and you did it again and again until you thought you might lose it a bit faster than you meant to.  “This toy feels really good,” you informed him in a purr, gasping when you slipped the vibrating body of it into your pussy, “but it doesn’t feel as good inside me as you do.”
His eyes fell shut but he still winced a bit every time you made a sound; he couldn’t run from this, no matter how hard he tried.
“Oh James,” you moaned loudly, fucking yourself with the vibe for a moment before you pulled it back out to focus even harder on your clit, “I’m gonna come.  I’m so, so close… I can feel it getting stronger, I think I might make a mess on these sheets.  And the only way I’m ever gonna let you come is if you watch me do it.  So open your fucking eyes.”
He blinked quickly as he opened them, gaze scanning your whole body before settling on your cunt; you were sure he could see it pulsing as you got closer and closer, you knew he was imagining how it would feel.  You only spared a brief glimpse at his cock, bobbing between his legs, and wished you could just slip it in you now and come while it stretched you out. 
But that wasn’t what he was here for, sadly, and you were sure you were the only being truly denied of your desires, despite how it probably seemed from the outside.
“Oh my god,” you breathed, numbness starting to tingle in your legs as your orgasm built up quicker than even you expected.  “I’m coming— James, I’m coming, oh, fuck… right there— yes!”
A gush of heat warmed your cunt at the same time that shocks ran up your spine and down your limbs; you could feel your legs shaking, and you knew he could, too.  
It got so intense for a second that you had to pull the vibrator away, though you didn’t stop coming until a few moments later, eyes falling shut without you meaning for them to.
You actually laughed a bit, breathlessly, as you turned the vibe off and set it aside, although you weren’t sure exactly what was supposed to be funny about this per se.  When you opened your eyes, you saw James looking down and looking positively defeated.  But he looked tense, too, and you sat up on your wobbly legs to get closer to his face.  
“Relax, James,” you told him firmly as you examined him.
“I— I can’t,” he whispered. 
“Why not?”
“I’ll come.”
Nothing could fight your wide grin anymore, not when you heard that.  “Oh, baby… are you about to come without even being touched?  Is that how much you liked watching Mistress come?”
He nodded, ever so slightly, and you laughed.  Not quite a mocking laugh, moreso impressed.  Prideful, even.  You leaned in to give a wet kiss to his neck, licking over his pulse as he shivered violently.
“That’s my good boy,” you whispered against his skin.  He whined and you cooed soothingly right away, “oh I know, I know.  It’s so unfair, isn’t it?  Mistress gets to come and you don’t…”
“Please,” he stammered, “I’m so close, let me come, please.”
“But I don’t wanna see you come, baby— I wanna see you cry.”
You started to slide your hand down his chest and he jumped up to attention as he tried to squirm away.  “No, please, don’t— don’t touch my cock, not if I can’t come.”
“You can hold it in, can’t you?” you pouted.
“No, I can’t, I can’t,” he sobbed, watching fearfully as your hand moved down to his stomach and over his hips.  
“But I thought you were my good boy,” you frowned, suddenly wrapping your hand tight around his cock as he choked on a gasp.
“Mistress!” he sobbed.  “Please, don’t—  don’t move your hand, I’ll come.”
"Never fucking tell me what to do," you instructed firmly, just barely stroking as he cried weakly.  "I'm gonna touch you however I want and you're not gonna come because you're my good boy, right?"
"No, Mistress, I can't stop it, I'm gonna come— stop, please…"
"You'd better not fucking come," you hissed through your teeth, speeding up your movements and watching his eyes shoot wide open, "you'd better hold it in until I'm done with you."
"I'm trying— please slow down, can't take it—"
You shook your head, tutting disapprovingly.  "No, baby, I tell you what you can take."
"Oh— oh god, Mistress, please, please stop, please, I c-can't— fuck!"
You pulled your hand away the second his cock started to flex but it was too late: come was shooting from his swollen tip and painting his chest and stomach.  You didn't even wait until he was done to backhand him across the face.
"I'm sorry!" he yelled.  "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it…"
You softened slightly when you heard his broken voice, saw the desperation and fear on his face— it was real, more real than the fake ‘no’s and the encouraging pleas for mercy.  "Baby, it's okay, you tried so hard," you soothed instantly.
Hope filled his eyes just as much as tears as he looked up at you.  "Am I still your good boy?"
"Always," you smiled, caressing his face where it was already turning red from your slap.  
You reached down and caressed his cock with the back of your fingers, watching it flex weakly.  
“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”
His lip twitched, almost like a wince.  “Do we… do we have to stop?”
You quickly glanced at the clock.  “Um, no,” you mumbled, “we still have time.  Just tell me what you want.”
“I wanna watch you come again…” he admitted softly.  “Is… is that okay?”
Although you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, you were still surprised.  “Yeah, sure.”
“But… but closer this time,” he added, “not so far away.”
You were literally laying on top of him, how did that count as far away? 
“I wanna see your face,” he clarified.
“Okay,” you nodded, deciding to indulge him.  It was sort of like aftercare, except that this wasn’t exactly the ‘after’ part yet.
On your knees beside where he was leaning back against the headboard, you slipped your hand down into the lace panties again, finding your clit still swollen but not too sensitive.  A little gasp fell from your lips when you touched it, rubbing it carefully with two fingers while he looked up at your face.  
You felt slightly exposed when he watched you this close, and you didn’t know where to look to avoid direct eye contact.  Looking at his lips was just a little too tempting, so that wouldn’t work.
“My hands are a little tired,” you explained, “they might cramp up.  Maybe I could use your thigh…”
“O-okay,” he nodded, and you removed your fingers from your panties to sit down on the thick muscle of his leg.  You felt him tense up under you slightly, and you carefully began to rock your hips until your clit rubbed just right against the inside of your underwear.  Surely he could feel how wet you were— actually, you both could hear it, almost a wet clicking-like noise as the soaked lace slid against your skin.
The dynamic shifted slightly, not that you minded it, as he watched you ride him carefully.  Just as he couldn’t hide much from you when he was naked and tied up and baring his soul to you in the kinkiest way possible, you couldn’t hide your pleasure from him when he was looking at your face so up-close.  You let your hands carefully roam his body, narrowly avoiding the trails of cooling come he’d left on his stomach and chest, until you found his strong shoulders and held onto them for balance.
“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, biting your lip as your sore clit throbbed against his hard, muscular thigh.  
“Will you… could you kiss me?” he requested quietly, and your heart broke a little bit.  You shook your head, and he nodded in understanding.
“I’ll kiss you here,” you offered instead, whispering against his skin before you pressed your lips to his forehead, then his cheek, then his jaw.  “Is that better, James?”
“It helps,” he agreed in a sigh.  
“I’m close,” you warned quietly, pressing your cheek to his and weaving one hand into his hair.  “I’m gonna come again, on your thigh.”
“Let me touch you,” he begged, “just a little, please…”
You nodded, about to reach forward to untie one of his hands, but he snapped the ropes and you had totally forgotten he could do that.  He quickly ran his touch all over your body, calloused hands and bound wrists in stark contrast to your soft skin.  The metal one was a little cold but it didn’t bother you; the other was almost too hot, and it was like being warmed and cooled all at once.
He ran his fingers down your spine, he gripped one of your shoulders, he rubbed your legs: he did everything he must have been wishing he could do this whole time, even gasping as he ran one hand up your chest and over a cup of your bra.  Just as you sensed that he was about to ask if he could touch you there, you nodded and felt his metal hand tug down the red lace and grab your breast— thankfully not very hard, though he did give your nipple a quick pinch which made you gasp.
Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he finally settled his hands on holding your hips, just tight enough to slightly guide your movements as you rocked faster and more desperately.  “Please come,” he begged weakly, “Mistress, please… use me.”
It sort of hit you all at once then, like a punch to the gut.  Except, you know, a lot more fun than getting punched in the gut.
“James,” you gasped, legs quivering where they straddled his as a new patch of slick soaked the lace (and presumably his thigh as well).  He held you tight, kept you moving through it while your fingers tangled in his hair and your mouth fell slack for another, louder moan.
The way his lips moved over your skin, laving your collarbones and pulse point and the innermost corner of your jaw, was positively worshipful; reverent.  “Mistress,” he whispered, almost sounding like praise but tinted with awe.  Your movements slowed down to a stop and the two of you breathed a sigh together, unintentionally.  “Thank you,” he mumbled.
“What for?” you asked, blinking quickly and looking down at him, coming back to reality (though you weren’t quite sure where else it was that you had just been).
“I dunno, everything,” he decided.
“Don’t thank me,” you smiled.  “Keep paying me, though.”
He laughed a little, glancing away.  “Yeah, and I’ll pay you back for these ropes… sorry."
"No, hey, don't be sorry," you dismissed, getting up off of his leg and standing up to go grab a towel for him.  "I'm just sorry we still haven't found anything strong enough to hold you."
"It's fine, they're strong enough to make me stop myself when I want to do something I shouldn't, that's all that really matters."
You nodded to yourself as you dampened the towel and came back to wipe him off.
"I can do that for myself," he reminded you, sounding a bit embarrassed, but you thought it was sweet. 
“You just focus on getting those ropes off of yourself,” you decided with a little smile.
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whirlybirbs · 3 years
Text
FEVER-DREAM    ;    echo/reader 
summary: echo is fine-tuning his new prosthesis. you have experience, you help. unspoken feelings are acted on. adoration blooms. you learn what mesh’la means.
word count: 3k
pairing: echo / f!reader
tags: mutual pining, lots of tender looks, victorian-era hand-touching sluttiness, echo is a gentle soul, reader is head over heels, a touch of ptsd mention, set on ord mantell, mention of our boy fives, in this house we love assistive devices, enough sexual tension to power the death star
a/n: this is me round-house kicking the bad batch writers in the throat because they made echo cosplay a droid — but, also because this man deserves to be treated as more than a means to a mission’s end. majority of you know i am ~bitter~ (understatement of the century) of tbb’s plot/design/writing. but echo has been a favorite from the original days... so have some very soft fic.
i reference character redesigns by @nibeul​ in this piece — please go peep them here, and some updated character spreads here! they’re really beautiful and add a phenomenal layer of storytelling to the existing designs that’s lacking. nibuel’s art and writing is lovely. please give them a follow — i can’t rec their work enough. 
“How does it feel?”
The words are nearly whispered; it’s clear you didn’t want to startle him, and Echo can feel the pinch in his brow soften at your sudden appearence in the doorway. 
His bunk, at the back of the Havoc Marauder, is small — the space itself even more so. There’s a makeshift partition, hooked together with spare parts and meant to offer a bit of privacy on the cramped vessel. Its slate grey color has faded, and the edges have become tattered in the cycles of use. 
When Echo pulls his dark eyes up from his work, you’re leaning against the frame — your expression is earnest.
For a moment, the once-ARC Trooper is quiet. 
He wonders if he’ll ever get used to your attention. Each and every time, it sends him into a spiral; his heart catches as he inhales and tries to push down the warm stir in his gut. The sight of you is enough, nowadays, to melt Echo’s well-maintained irritability. His attention is stolen from his ever-present pain, if only for a bit.
There are plenty of days where he misses the old him — the wide-eyed, eager ARC Trooper who had his brothers by his side. His real brothers. Hevy, Cutup, Droidbait... Fives. 
Fuckin’ hell, Fives was probably staring down at him now laughing. 
No matter what changes, you’re still shit with the ladies, vod’ika. 
In a way he hasn’t fully admitted to himself, you make him feel like himself again. Like... Like some shiny cadet, on leave and distracted by the promises of pretty smiles passing-by. It’s good.
This makes him feel... good. 
He flexes, and his right hand — the new, gunmetal durasteel cyberized-prosthesis — closes into a tight fist. It’s taken him a bit, but the feeling isn’t so foreign now. It’s still... slow. Slower than he’s used to, but you’d mentioned it may take some time. The phantom feelings get better, too. All in all, it’s a good thing.
Your own hand, your left, glimmers back in the same gunmetal color.
(Echo had never pressed you about the missing limb — not until one day, in Cid’s, you’d joined him in a quiet corner. You’d spilled your drink and a complaint about getting the star-cherry syrup out of the joints had slipped out. Echo had laughed; a real laugh, the sort that was so rare coming from him, it had you staring at him as if he’d hung ever star in the sky. 
Can I ask how it happened? he’d said, breaking the heavy silence when your eyes never left his.
The Pykes, you’d said, and that was enough.)
“I haven’t, uh... Haven’t gotten the sensory calibration right yet.”
Then, his prosthesis cramps. His fingers go rigid, and Echo curses sharply as he reaches around his forearm to quickly reboot the appendage. It goes slack, then hums alive once more.
You wince.
You’re slow to move into the room — and you settle atop one of the crates Echo had stolen from the belly of the ship, an old Mantell Mix shipping container. You’re mindful to set his datapad aside, to not disturb his space too much. Before you reach for his hand, however, you lift your chin and open your hands in your lap.
“May I?” you ask, just as soft as before.
Echo feels small under your gaze.
Truth be told, you’re doing more than just... asking. You’re taking him in — appreciating him. It’s a habit that’s grown more and more apparent to not only himself, but the others.
In recent rotations, Echo has let his hair grow out — not long, but the once close buzz he’d kept has begun to curl at the top. Not entirely dissimilair to how it was before the Citadel. The dermal implants, the ones the Techno Union installed in order to parse the nuerological data in his head, stand out against his warm-colored skin. 
His usual AJ^6-inspired headpiece is resting on his bunk.
That damn thing.
A neccesary tool. One that, given the amount of user data Tech had procured when working on modifying the implant, Echo found himself immediately distrusting. It wasn’t as if the AJ^6 cyborg construct had a beautiful track record, and frankly, Echo would like to keep his personality in tact, thank you very much. There were plenty of days he felt machine enough. 
It wasn’t often you saw him without the headset; you knew it made linking in via his scomp easier to handle, it made the visualization of data transfers as easy as breathing. For Echo, it was a part of his vast kit, an important tool. For you, seeing him without it bubbles up a bit of a smile.
Echo catches it.
His eyes narrow playfully.
He looks... well. You — hell, are there words for it? For the way the sight of him makes you feel? It’s like there’s a world full of potential there, a thousand words unsaid, and feelings that have steeped in the warmth of longing gazes and half-there touches.
You’re still looking up at him, knees bent on the crate.
You blink, realizing you’ve been caught staring — not for the first time and certainly not for the last. In the beginning, it had left a sour taste in Echo’s mouth. But, now... Well, it stokes a sort of pride in his chest that he hangs onto. 
It never gets easier to recover from — certainly not when Echo smirks. He moves to allow you to take his prosthesis into your lap. The gesture is gentle; your fingers cradle the firm yet pliable metal.
“What?” he asks. His voice, low and rough and warm, is tinted with amusement.
“Nothing,” you say vaguely with a shrug — as if that’s supposed to explain any part of your enamored stare. Your attention moves to the prosthesis.
“Nothing?” he asks, moving to thumb his left ear with his free hand with a dash of nervousness. A habit. Echo tilts his head as his fingers brush the cochlear implant there. The panel rests neatly against the side of his head, a small rounded-off square. The bite of self-consciousness has dwindled around you — but still, it creeps back up every now and again.
The Corporal’s brows knot playfully as you turn his new hand over in your lap; you’re admiring the upgraded feel, the more seamless panelling in comparison to your own. Echo watches your lashes flutter in silent thought.
Then:
“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”
You blink slowly at the hand, swallow down your sudden sheepishness and ignore his gaze. You bite back the smile digging into your cheeks. “Maybe.”
“Do I have something on my face?” he asks suddenly, and you look up.
A baited trick. He’s smiling. 
The warm sort — the sort reserved for you and for Omega. The two souls that hold a piece of his heart, with all its ticking valves and electric timed pulses. There are machinisms that keep him alive, and then there is you. Your wide-eyed expression melts, giving way to the sort of smile he’s tried to memorize over and over. It’s the same smile that has warded off that reoccuring nightmare of the night on the tarmac at the Citadel, the same smile that has pulled him through the grit of phantom pains.
“What—” a sudden laugh bursts from your chest, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You were staring, mesh’la,” he rumbles out as a reminder, enjoying the fact he’s suddenly become the center of your attention. Echo leans back, his boot toeing yours. You nudge it back. Your face feels hot. You ignore his pointedly teasing look with a roll of your eyes.
The nickname started a few weeks ago. You haven’t asked what it means — no, for now it’s meaning hangs in the balance. Untouched but there. The affection the word carries makes your heart feel heavier and unbelievably full.
“Bad habit,” you chirp back, looking up at him through your lashes.
His laugh is warm.
“Maybe not.”
“No,” you say quietly; your voice is soft as your eyes bounce across his face, tracing the lines of his face with your gaze, “I don’t think it is.”
There’s a silence that slips between you — a comfortable one. It’s heavier than before. That has begun to happen recently, especially with the petal-soft utterance of mesh’la becoming more and more frequent. You hold his gaze. Echo lets out a soft, contented sigh.
Then, you remember the task at hand.
You clear your throat.
“Uh... The access panel I’m looking for,” you say slowly as your raise your finger to point to your own arm, “It’s on your bicep.”
Echo blinks. He clears his own throat before looking down — he hadn’t even noticed that access panel. That could explain the jarring miscommunication stalling the limb. This model had more bells and whistles than he initally realized. 
Better than a fuckin’ scomp link, that’s for sure.
Wordlessly, Echo makes room on his bunk. You move to settle beside him, your bent leg resting aginst his hip as you half-straddle the bed; your other knee brushes his thigh — and Echo tries to sit still. You’re close, now. 
“Is it okay if...?” you trail off, fingers tugging on the short sleeve of his blacks; you pause until Echo offers a curt nod. You catch him swallow. You push onward, fingers nimbly rolling the fabric up over his broad bicep. 
Echo steals a glance your way as your fingers pass across a slip of his bare skin. 
In his lap, both his hands twitch.
He’s no small man. Lean and athletic, Echo is built like a soldier. Omega had said once that Echo was an ARC Trooper, one of the best of the best. You believed every bit of it, and you’d hung on her words when she’d rambled on about ARC training, about Kamino, and about who Echo was before you knew him. It was all in the past, though. That Echo is a part of this Echo but... They’re different men. He’s been changed by the things that have happened.
You don’t press him on the details. 
In time, they’re slipped into conversation here and there — between the here and now.  
In the beginning, when you’d found yourself amongst the crew of the Havoc Marauder — be it for a simple job on Cid’s behalf — Echo had hardly paid you a moment of attention, though you admit you’d been curious from the start. It had taken three jobs for you to finally see his face. Then began the slow and gradual bonding over catching joints, grating plates, and hardware updates. His legs, your arm. Two pieces of a pair.
Now, he has this. A beautiful new upgrade — something he’s wanted for a long time. A part of his old self is back, in a way.
You liked that it was more than just a tool. That, in having this piece of his body back, he felt like more than a tool. More than a scomp link. 
After all, he is a man — a... a very handsome man. One whose proximity is sort of distracting you, again, from the task at hand.
“The panel here,” you say as you slowly press on the seam that enables the settings panel to be revealed; you’re mindful to explain, “It controls sensory outputs, as well as synchonized synaptic commands. The panel on my forearm does the same to my hand, yours is just... well, you’ve got the new and improve version.”
Echo ducks his head as you work, watching you from the corner of his eye. “Feeling a bit jealous, mesh’la?”
“Maybe,” you breathe out with a smile. 
Then, you lift your eyes. You intended to see that he was still comfortable, but instead you come face to face with the Corporal. His nose nearly brushes yours when you lift you chin, completely dragged in by the closeness shared.
There’s a beat of tension. Echo’s mouth goes dry.
You fingers pause. You swallow hard. “How... uh, how does it feel?”
Echo tightens his grip, then releases. His breath tickles your cheeks. His eyes, a deep, warm brown, flit from your eyes to your mouth, and then back. His voice is a croak. 
“...Same as before.”
You tinker with a dial, eyes never leaving his; your voice is above a whisper. “And now?”
It’s immediate. Like a rush of cold air up his arm — and on instinct, Echo’s hand twitches. His fingers grip the fabric of his blacks, along his thigh, and... he feels it. The smooth, stretch of the material. It’s... it feels like a lot. His fingertips, metallic and cyberized, tingle. It’s distracting.
He can feel. 
His hand is slow. It moves across to bridge the space between you. His pointer finger settles on the curve of your knee; the feeling of your tactical pants beneath his fingertip is ignored, instead he chases the heat of your body.
Your breath catches at the touch. 
Echo’s face is turned to you, but... his attention has settled on his hand. His palm then sweeps across your thigh. He follows the curve, soaks in the feeling. You’re frozen in place, beating back the desperate sound of appreciation that threatens to be pulled from your throat. The touch is... more than welcomed. 
The closeness itself is making you dizzy.
Then, Echo turns — and the warm, durasteel-plated palm finds your cheek.
Your skin is hot. 
“Is this okay, mesh’la?” he whispers, words riding on a quiet exhale — the sort that make you feel... well, you don’t even have words for the way he makes you feel. Echo is... kind, honest, and loyal. Above all else, he’s gentle. Despite it all, despite every bit of horror he’d been put through, he’d never lost sight of the importance of a gentle hand. Especially now in a moment as intimate as this. It coaxes you closer.
You lean into the cybernetic attachment, cheek resting in his palm. You nod, then, with eyes eager to take in every bit of this moment.
He chuckles at the enthusiasm. Echo’s thumb, deft and smooth, then traces the line of your lower lip.
The feeling is... the gnawing pain that he’s felt for nearly a year has melted. Finally, the itch has been scratched in his brain and the hollow ache of his bones is gone. It’s relief, and comfort, and excitement and all these beautiful things — and you. 
You’re stuck — you don’t want to move, you won’t move. He’s rooted you completely, and when his other hand — the calloused and warm one of flesh and blood — finds it’s spot along your thigh, you swallow a lovesick sigh that would only exaserbate your desperation. 
Your mouth is moving before you realize it. 
“What does it mean?”
Echo’s eyes narrow, only a bit, and he runs his thumb up your cheekbone.
“What does what mean?” 
“Mesh’la,” it sounds foreign on your tongue. It’s not Hutteese or Twi’leki, not like any language you know, “Will you tell me what it means, Echo?”
The corner of his lips quirk. Your eyes jump to it.
You feel like someone’s reached right into your chest and given your heart a squeeze — and it only worsens when he laughs. He laughs, deep and quiet and warm, like a thunderstorm on a summer night. It feels cruel, to string you along like this when you’re here, lips parted, hanging off his every touch and his every word.
“Beautiful,” he says quietly as his other hand touches your jaw — it’s so damn reverent, this little moment in time, that you almost don’t believe it’s real.
It feels like a dream — like someone has come in and stolen your thoughts from you; like the unrequited yearning has finally stoked a fire large enough to burn you up entirely, a fever you never knew you wanted.
His nose brushes yours.
Your fingers wind into the fabric of his chest. You’re clinging, lost to the moment — and you can’t help wonder if this is how it feels when he catches you adoring him. He’s admiring you so tenderly that you nearly break.
You want to kiss him.
He’s thought about nothing but kissing you for the last five days at least. Longer in his dreams. Nowadays, it’s a constant pull, a constant want.
And now, it’s here — a present and current moment where it can happen. Where he can stop being a shiny cadet and he can make a move...
Enter Omega.
“Echo, we’re back—!”
The telltale hammer of a girl’s boots on the floor signals that the party is back from their supply run — but you’re so far off, spinning in a different universe, you don’t even hear her until its too late... Until Echo is yanking himself away and clearing his throat and rolling his wrist to test the prosthesis in a different way, a less intimate way. 
You blink, then rattle yourself back to the present. Omega is in the doorway staring with a quizzical look. Clearly, your state does little to dissuade the assumptions she’s already making and you can see the gears turning in her head. The dark-haired girl then slowly grins.
“Hi.”
You swallow. “Hi, Omega.”
“...Whatcha guys doin’?”
Echo coughs. “Uh, just fine-tuning the new upgrade.”
“...Riiiiiight.” 
You rub your cheeks and laugh — clearly forced and incredibly pained — as you stand up and nearly ram your head right into the top of Echo’s bunk. It’s met with a hiss of warning from the trooper as he jumps up to try and protect you from the impact. 
“Well! Uh, thanks for letting me help, Echo,” you clap, rocking back and forth on your boots, “I, uh... Oh, Cid called. I should... I should get back—”
“Yea,” he says, straining a bit to find the words, “Yea, I’ll... I’ll comm you if it starts to, uh... If it starts to act up?”
Omega watches the exchange, big brown eyes moving from left to right. 
“Good, great — yea, that’s,” you inhale as you rub your thighs and move towards the door, “Perfect. Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Bye!” Omega calls, waving.
You wave back, smiling. “Bye, Omega.”
Then, once it’s only Echo and Omega in the bunk, the tween speaks.
“...What the kriff was that?”
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beels-burger-babe · 3 years
Text
I Burn For You
***So THIS has been stuck in my head all day and I just- I love it. I love it so much. And it reminded me...So you guys all know how I hate/love Lucifer...it gave me those vibes. So........... Well I haven't written anything actually relevant to The Facade of the Suitor or anything else that I've been procrastinating, I have been able to push out this little short inspired by this beauty of a duet that is EVERYTHING to me. -B***
Summary: Since MC's arrival, Lucifer and them have never fully gotten along. There was always a large, unknown and undiscussed tension between them and they were fine to keep it that way. But when MC's security in the Devildom is threatened by both the angels and the nobility of the Devildom itself, everything changes. As a ruse to persuade the celestial realm, MC and Lucifer wed. After the ceremony, they finally talk about the unacknowledged feelings burning inside of both of them.
MC x Lucifer
The air hung heavy and thick like the gold bands that now decorated both of your fingers.
You and Lucifer stood on opposite sides of the room, your backs facing one another with nothing but silence between you.
You couldn't help but reminisce on how you got here, on your supposed 'honeymoon' married to none other but the prideful, arrogant, avatar of sin, Lucifer Morningstar himself.
Diavolo had burst into the House of Lamentation an entire month ago. He desperately explained how the angels had received word about you through the fond, innocent-intending, stories of Luke and we're demanding that you be 'released' from your 'imprisonment in the infernal Devildom and that they wished to cleanse you of the 'hellish corruption' the demons had 'forced upon you' through your pacts. Wanting to avoid yet another Celestial War, even on a small scale, the noble court had wanted to agree and simply hand you over to them, cut your pacts, and banish you from returning as an act of agreement and co-operation with the angels.
Obviously, this didn't sit well with you or any of the brothers.
You had all tried to come up with a number of plans, but they all promised retaliation from the angels.
Eventually, it was Lucifer himself who begrudgingly came up with the final plan. The angels wouldn't believe you if you simply told them that you liked it here and wanted to stay. They'd think you were charmed or manipulated. However, if the two of you worked together, and pretended to be in a relationship, convince the angels of your 'genuine' feelings and prove to them that you were in love, and finalize this by marrying Lucifer, it just might work.
First of all, love was something that had sparked war in the past, that both sides had learned from and had grown to deeply treasure and value. Secondly, Micheal, head Archangel of the Celestial Realm, trusted Lucifer the most of all the brothers. The two of you could take advantage of that use it to convince him that you were actually safer in the Devildom by Lucifer's side. And finally, if you were willingly bound by marriage, there was very little that the Celestial Realm could do to force you to leave.
The plan wasn't terrible, but there was one thing about it that caused you to clench your fists and grind your teeth: it was with Lucifer.
Lucifer who constantly teased you and pushed your buttons in a way that he knew would cause you to either give in to him or snap.
Lucifer who was cruel and sadistic and did nothing unless there was some personal gain or it was under the demand of his precious Diavolo.
Lucifer who never ever put anything before his own stupid pride.
Though you were normally a calm and positive person, there was just something about Lucifer that had always caused an inferno of anger and rebellion to burn within you. You felt this strong need to constantly prove him wrong and to defy him.
As a result, the two of you consistently butted heads, arguing about Lucifer's treatment of his brothers and your recklessness on an almost weekly basis.
The idea of being chained to this...this demon for the rest of your mortal life caused your stomach to twist tightly into knots. Though, if it ensured you'd be able to stay with the rest of your found family? You'd make the necessary sacrifice.
So the two of you did the whole show. You went on dates, smiled and laughed together as though you were the lead roles in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and played every card in the book to convince the angels that you were safe and happy under the kind watch of your lover.
Those weeks had started off painful, as you pushed back all feelings of disdain for the eldest brother to play the role of the perfect partner. But as time passed, you hadn't noticed that it had become easier and easier to stay by his side. The smiles you gave him were no longer forced, but sincere ones that brought joy. The lines between what was real and what was fake began to blur.
You sealed the deal with your wedding only a few hours ago.
The vows Lucifer had spoken...promising to watch and protect you even as your skin wrinkled and your hair grew grey. To hold your hand and aid you when you no longer had the strength. To shower you in love and devotion even in your final hours.
They had been spoken with such passion and raw emotion that you didn't dare think too deeply about. It had caused your breath to catch in your throat, and you had to remind yourself that this was all an act. Soon the curtain would close, and Lucifer would return to the cold-hearted monster that you knew.
Yet even now, hours after the ceremony had finished, you couldn't get that intense gaze, and the sparks that exploded under your fingertips as his hands gently squeezed yours, out of your head.
Lucifer sighed from the other side of the room and glanced over at you. "Are we just going to continue ignoring each other?"
You scoffed and turned your head further away; ignoring the loud pounding of your heart and instead focusing on the flickers of frustration licking up your gut. "What else are we supposed to do? There's no one else around. The act is over."
You whirled around at his sarcasm and could practically feel the wrath blazing behind your eyes. "Sorry, my Lord, if I'm not exactly giddy about the fact that I just signed myself to the likes of you just for the approval of some fluffy winged assholes!"
You could practically hear Lucifer roll his eyes as he walked over to the liquor cart and poured himself a drink. "Right. So you just plan to spend the entirety of the weekend that Micheal paid for us brooding in a corner? How mature of you."
Lucifer, the fucker, had the gull to act unphased and casually swirled his drink in his hand. "It could be much, much worse," he took a sip of the amber liquid before staring down in his glass. "It's not as though you didn't agree to this."
"Only because I didn't want to be kicked out of the Devildom and never allowed to see your brothers again!" You growled. Your anger only grew as you noticed him clench his fingers tighter around the glass. You groaned and ran a hand through your hair. "This was a stupid plan! You probably just invented this entire ruse as yet another way to get under my skin. Well congratulations, Lucifer. You win!"
You refused to look at him, as you turned your heated gaze out the window.
You didn't see the flash of hurt that washed over his expression, nor hear the way his breath caught in his throat. "Is being married to me truly that awful? Are you honestly telling me that you haven't enjoyed even a single second of this past month?"
You tensed and crossed your arms over your chest, as you continued to avoid looking at him. "What kind of question is that? You're a demon who cares about nothing but himself," you pursed your lips and mentally tried to deny just how wrong those words felt on your tongue.
"I wouldn't say that's true. Believe it or not, I do care for my brothers." There was a shaky breath, one so uncharacteristic for the confident Morningstar, before he continued. "And you. I did promise to love you until your final breath after all, and I do not break my promises."
There was silence once again. Though this quiet seemed to crackle with the anticipation for something, though neither of you quite knew what.
You closed your eyes, refusing to acknowledge the flutter in your heart at his words. "Those vows were only part of the act. They weren't real."
"Perhaps not for you," your eyes snapped open at the response. You looked back at the demon. Lucifer stood leaning against the wall, drink still in hand, as he stared intensely at the floor. "This may have all been an act for you, MC, but it stopped being a ruse for me mere hours after we began."
You felt yourself frown as you stared at him. Your traitor heart dared to grow warm with hope, only adding fuel to the growing frustration inside you. "You're lying. You're just trying to get me worked up again."
"Actually, I'm not," his eyes met yours and it felt as though time froze. His expression was so unguarded, so honest. For once, you looked into his eyes and you could see every emotion that he wore openly before you. You could see the hurt, the certainty, and most of all the same passionate love that shone so brightly in them throughout the ceremony. "From the moment I met you, you caused a fire to ignite in my heart. I was determined to control you and to make you be the human representative for Diavolo. But then, you acted against me, and that changed. I still wanted to make sure that you fulfilling your purpose in the exchange program, but I took on the challenge of finally having you respect and listen to me. You were stubborn and fierce, yet so beautifully driven and I admired that." your eyes widened at the admission. "It wasn't until I was forced to look at you in a romantic light for this scheme that I understood the true nature of these feelings. It wasn't that I wanted to control you, or break you, or shape you into what I needed. It was so much deeper, so much more dangerous than that. I wanted to have you fall in love for me, as I had fallen for you, and make you mine."
He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "I know you don't feel the same. I've accepted that. But I...I'm done with acting like this isn't real for me. I refuse to pretend that there's nothing there between us any longer."
He finally broke eye contact, looking back at his now empty glass as you practically gaped at him. Love. Lucifer...loved you? You gulped and took a step towards him, "Lucifer..."
The fire burning within you consumed you as your face heated up. "You...You love me? You actually love me?"
You flinched as he glared sharply at you. "Don't rub it in."
You didn't know what to make of that. You weren't sure what to make of any of this. Your feelings towards Lucifer had changed over the past month, but you had assumed that was simply part of the act. But if everything he had done and said as you two were pretending to be a couple was real, then what did that mean for you?
What did that mean for the way the sight of him caused your heart to skip? Or the way his rare smiles never failed to make you smile back? Or the unwavering sense of comfort and security that he provided?
What did that mean for the ruthless, scalding fire that he had always caused to rage inside you? You always assumed it was anger, but what if...
You gasped in realization. "I burn for you."
The demon tensed as he blinked in confusion. "You...I'm sorry, you what?"
You moved closer to him, each step more certain than the last, as you shakily spoke the words that rang through you. "I burn for you, Lucifer. I don't know entirely what it means myself, but ever since we met you've caused this irrational passion and drive to sear inside of me. I-I had always assumed it was hatred. You're so infuriating. Every word you speak does nothing but cause that fire to flare brighter within in. Every action leaves me filled with sparks of restless energy that won't be satiated until I combust at you," as you now stood nearly toe to toe with him, you grabbed his hand and placed it over your roaring heart. Hope flickered like a candle in the darkness of his black eyes. "I had thought that this couldn't be anything other than anger and hatred. I refused to believe even the possibility that it could be anything else. But this past month you...you were honest and almost kind and vulnerable. Your teasing didn't make me want to punch you, but rather made me laugh. You showed me a side of you that I didn't even know existed. I...I think-"
You were cut off by a finger on your lips. Lucifer looked down at you with a stern, cold expression. The action paired with that face would've caused you to become infuriated by his audacity and superiority complex in the past. But now you could see past it, and could see it for what it truly was: a carefully crafted barrier that hid his most vulnerable feelings and protected him. "If you do not mean the words you were about to say, if you are pitying me, I must demand that you stop here. Do not say those words unless you truly mean them," his deep voice was tinged with distrust and caution.
You held his gaze as you kissed the pad of the finger against your lips and whispered gently, "Lucifer, I think that I love you."
Suddenly your lips were captured in his as he pulled you close and ever so adoringly cupped your face. For the first time since meeting him, the flames inside you were extinguished by the cold touch of his hands on your face and the surprising gentleness of his affection.
His hand slid from your face and came to rest on your shoulder as his eyes widened. His gaze scanned your expression for any traces of falsehood or insincerity. You could hear the breath leave his lungs as he found none.
He softly kissed his temple, effectively hiding his face as it grew redder and whispered, "Of course, beloved."
Lucifer laughed as he pulled away, his thumb caressing your cheek, as he smiled. "To think it only took us getting married to realize it," you laughed as you felt happy tears prick the corners of your eyes. Lucifer sighed in content as rested his forehead against yours. "Remind me to send a thank you to, Micheal."
You hummed and nuzzled closer to him as you rested your head on his shoulder. "Forget Micheal. He's still an asshole as far as I'm concerned. Instead, focus on me. On us. I want to learn everything about you, about the real you," you smiled as he looked down at you with flushed cheeks. "My husband, Lucifer Morningstar."
You couldn't help but wonder how you had been so oblivious to your true feelings as a shiver ran down your spine and warmth spread throughout your chest simultaneously.
This honest and pure love between the two of you, was new, yet it felt so familiar, and it was abundantly clear to both of you that the depth of those feelings would only become clearer and clearer in time as the fires of your love only grew.
***Gasp. I actually finished something. Would you look at that. Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this little fic! Thank you so much for your support during my hiatus and for being so understanding. I love you guys! Thanks again for reading!***
Taglist: @thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @lovelymushi @victoireshaven @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @obeys-world @poly-bi-mf @armycandy10 @burrixino
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readerstories · 3 years
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Magic Fingers - Aaron Hotchner x male!reader
I got so many other ideas for fics with Aaron and male reader, this was just an excuse to write some “shorter” smut while I work on some longer fics. (AO3)
Warnings: smut, clothed sex
Wordcount: 2978
Summary: Working hard on a case you offer to give Hotch a massage, because the man is as stiff and tense as a block of wood. (And maybe you want to get your hands on him, but that’s neither here nor there).
The case had been hard, challenging, brutal, and difficult, which had caused the whole team to work on overdrive for the last few days with very little sleep. Which was why Hotch had ordered everyone back to the hotel to get some sleep, as none of you were going to get anywhere being as sleep deprived as you were.
He had tried to stay behind himself, but you had more or less dragged him back to a car while reminding him that even he was human and needed rest. Back at the hotel, in your shared room (because of course with your luck there wasn’t any single rooms left in the hotel for anyone in the team), you stretch before sitting down on your own bed, Hotch walking over to his.
You could see how tense he was, how much he needed to relax. Which was easier said then done when Hotch took as much responsibility as he did, always making sure everything possible was done to catch the unsub and save anyone who might get in harms way. Which was an admirable trait of his, but you could tell by his posture how stiff he had gotten over the last few days. The way he held himself spoke volumes to you, even though you knew he tried to shield it from the world and keep it to himself.
“Hotch?” He looks away from his jacket, the only item of his suit he has manged to force himself out of so far, while your jacket, shoes, and tie was long gone. You pat the edge of the bed next to where you are sitting, Hotch looks skeptical.
“Come on, you need to relax.”
“What does me sitting next to you have anything to do with that?”
“Let me give you a massage.” He raises a brow and you sigh, shifting so you’re kneeling on the bed instead.
“You’ve seen my resume, you know you I thought about going into massage therapy at one point.” Still, Hotch doesn’t move, so you know you have to do more to convince him.
“Remember when Reid had slept on his neck all wrong that one time after staying up way too late and I helped? Or when Morgan messed up his shoulder when going after an unsub and couldn’t sleep for days, and after a massage he finally could? It was the closest I’ve ever seen the man to weeping. Or when JJ was pregnant and hurting, but after letting me give her a massage she joked that if she didn’t love Will, and I wasn’t gay, she would have married me? Hotch, at this point I’ve given a massage to everyone on the team but you, so, get.”
You make a grabby motion with your hands. Hotch sigh, seeming to finally get how serious and stubborn you were being in that moment. He takes off his tie and shoes on the way over to the bed, but doesn’t do anything else, which makes everything a bit harder, but hey, you’ll take anything you’ll get. As Hotch sits down you’re greeted by the lovely opportunity to stare at his back without him noticing or caring too much, which would have been great, if you couldn’t tell how tense he was without even needing a single touch.
When you touch his shoulders he almost jumps, but he forces himself to calm down. Which doesn’t do much, because the instant your hands are on him you can tell it’s going to take a while and some effort to get him relax.
You slowly, ever so slowly start to move you hand, starting out gently at first to get a feeling for him. And ho boy, those are some serious knots if you’ve ever felt some. Your thumb barely brushes over one with some pressure and Hotch winces. You take a breath in trough your teeth, Hotch truly can’t be feeling any sort of pleasant right now, or really, ever you suppose.
“Hotch, if I really didn’t know any better, I would say your shoulders are made of wood with how stiff they are and how many knots I can feel.” Hotch grunts and starts to move like he’s about to stand up, but you drag him back down so he’s fully sitting again with your hands on his shoulders.
“Oh no, none of that, you’re not moving off this bed until all of them are gone and you can you know, actually be a little relaxed for once in your adult life.” Hotch scoffs, but doesn’t try to move again, which you count as a victory.
For the next, you don’t even know how long, your hands wander, squeeze, and press all over Hotch’s shoulders, loosing muscles and knots as good as you can while kneeling behind Hotch. Hotch is mostly quiet, only letting out sighs and the occasional grunt when an especially hard spot is made pliant.
When you’ve done as much as you can in this position you withdraw your hands, noting how Hotch is slumping slightly more forward now than he was when you started.
“Up the bed please, I can’t reach more like this.” Hotch turns so he can look at you over his shoulder.
“You’ve massaged my shoulders, what mor-”
“If your shoulders are any indication, you need a full body massage, so up on the bed please, front down.” You stare down Hotch, not breaking eye contact for one second. You’ve decided that he needs that massage, even if you have to tackle him to the bed to give it to him. He seems to have sensed this as he sighs, and above all miracles, does as you asked of him. He’s on his front, arms tucked under his head to use as a pillow, you now kneeling next to one hip.
Pleased with yourself, you get to work. You start where you left off from before, somewhere in the middle of his back. The knots there aren’t as bad as his shoulders, you suppose Hotch takes ‘bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders’ literally sometimes, but still you do your best to let your hands work over them until they are smoothed out and the muscles beneath your palms relax.
Over time your hands move downwards, and at some point right above the waist of his pants and his belt, your hands on either hip, they brush a particular point or points which make Hotch draw in a breath. Your hands pause before you speak.
“Sorry, you ticklish there?”
“A little.” Hotch reluctantly admits, mostly speaking at the wall he has been staring at for the last few minutes.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” You say as you file that little nugget of info away in a part of your brain you’ve dedicated to Hotch. You make sure to avoid that spot when your hands starts up again, instead moving to his lower back. There you find a knot truly worth your skilled hands, taking several minutes before you can move your hands from that spot. You realize you’ve accomplished your goal there when Hotch lets out a loud groan as you fell his muscles loosen beneath your hands, which you gather was an involuntary sound by the slight redness on his cheeks.
“See, I told you I was good.” Hotch doesn’t responds verbally, but nods, eyes closed now. You don’t say anything else, instead moving to his legs. You start at one ankle, slowly, slowly moving your way upwards, careful not to go to high for both of your comfort. You can tell when that is by a small twitch on Hotch’s leg, just above where you can feel the start of his boxers through his pants, and then you move down. You do however at on point press on a muscle on the backside of his knee that causes the leg to move on its own, which causes you both to laugh.
When both legs are done, you take your hands off Hotch and lean back, noting how his eyes are closed, almost like he’s sleeping.
“Turn around.” This causes Hotch to abruptly open his eyes and look at you for the first time since he laid down.
“What?”
“I haven’t done your front yet, and I’m not about to let you go with a half finished massage.”
“I-I’d rather not.” Looking over Hotch you quickly realize, with your profiling work and previous experience, why he’s not moving yet.
“If it’s an erection that’s nothing new.”
“Wha-”
“Your body is just reacting to stimuli, happens a lot with men, nothing I haven’t seen before. But if you really want to stop, we can of course do that.” You can see Hotch’s mind at war with himself. You say nothing, pretending that there’s a very interesting spot on the wall above the headboard.
It’s the movement of the mattress that alerts you to the fact that Hotch is moving, as the man himself says nothing. When you look at him, he has his arms over his face, jaw and mouth barely visible. What is very visible, is the erction pushing against the front of his pants, and though you would have liked to look, you only give it a glance. Hotch jumps when you touch his ankle again, but you don’t start just yet.
“Relax, like I said, nothing I haven’t seen before. Happens a lot actually, my hands are just that good you know, like a god or something.” Hotch huffs out a laugh, a smile briefly on his lips. You smile back at him even though he can’t see you, and then concentrate back on the task at hand.
Like before, you start at his ankles, working your way up. Hotch gets less tense almost by the second, breathing deepening as your hands work their magic once more. You don’t go very high on his thighs, actually now you’re lower than before, not wanting to make Hotch uncomfortable in any way.
Next is his hips, you start at the one closest to you and work your way up towards his shoulder instead of across his stomach. He still has his arms over his face, so you poke him in the bicep to get his attention.
“Arm please.” Hotch’s sigh is deep, but he moves his arm so you can take it. You’re gentle, well, as gentle as you can be while kneading out knots from tired muscles. His bicep is firm under your fingers, needing a lot less attention than his shoulders luckily.
When you’re done with that arm, you let it go, tapping on his other so he can move that of his face and switch it for the one you finished with. The angle of it is a bit awkward, and you probably should move for easier access, but honestly you can’t be bothered as you’re very close to being finished. However, your knee protests, telling your body that hey, moving is good as not to let limbs fall asleep.
But instead of doing the logical and probably better thing of getting of the bed and walking around, your tired brain decides to just move one leg over Hotch waist, intending to just move the other one over and after. Hotch draws in a slight breath at the motion and then something in your leg fails you, causing you to drop down on Hotch, putting most of your weight on top of Hotch’s crotch. Hotch moans out loud as his hands flies to your lower thighs and you go stock still.
“Fuck shit, sorry Hotch-”
“It’s fine, it’s fine, it-” Hotch draws in a deep breath and licks his lips as you worriedly watch his face. You’re mortified, you just dropped yourself on Hotch’s erection, holy fuck, shit.
It takes a few seconds to realize that you’re not trying to move of Hotch’s lap.
But Hotch isn’t trying to move you off either.
If anything, he’s keeping you there, a deathgrip on your lower thighs.
You take a few terrifying seconds to take stock of the situation before experimentally rolling your hips against Hotch. A flex of his fingers, but he does or says nothing as he stares at the ceiling. You on the other hand, is watching his face for any hint of what he’s thinking.
“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop, and we’ll forget about it ever happening.”
“Ah, um, fuck, shit.”
Silence, one, two, three beats.
“Fuck, move.” You start to get off his, heart already dropping to your guts, but instead Hotch drags you down and rolls his hips against you. This time it’s you who gasps, as your own dick twitches in your pants with the feeling of Hotch grinding against you. Hotch throws his head back, eyes screwed shut.
You’re quick to find your balance and leverage by placing your hands on Hotch’s chest, grinding down, moving as best as you can with Hotch’s own movements. Hotch is letting out a few low moans, which you match with your own as you move and watch the adam’s apple on Hotch’s throat move as he swallows. You want to lean down and kiss his neck, but fuck, you don’t know if you even can kiss him, if he will let you.
Hotch answers that question for you, as just seconds later his eyes open and he moves so he can look at you, catching you staring at him.
“Ah fuck.” Before you can even ask, he’s sitting up. You yelp as the movement causes you to straddle his thighs instead, and then in seconds there’s a hand on the nape of your neck, and even fewer seconds later you’re kissing Hotch.
Fuck.
His lips are firm, but pressing against you with a desperation you’re sure to match. His hands on your hips, holding you hard. Your hands go into his hair, tugging him even closer of that is even possible at this point, which causes him to moan low into your mouth which holy shit, that is, fuck, you can’t even think anymore you think.
The world shifts around you then, and you find yourself on your back, Hotch’s erection pressed against your own. It feels so good, so big and firm, and you want to feel more of him, but you can’t muster the brainpower to do anything about it, so you just tug at his hair and grind against him. Hotch seems of the same mind, as he doesn’t move to do much more either, just moving his hips against yours while kissing you within an inch of your life.
Which should be ridiculous, because you’re both grown men almost fully dressed still, but fuck, that makes it even hotter you think. Or, you try to think, as your mind is mostly chants of ‘more, good, fuck, shit, hot’ over and over again, Hotch’s name thrown in the mix for good measure.
Hotch moves away from your lips, but doesn’t move far, instead peppering kissed down your neck on the little skin he can reach. You moan and gasp, moving one hand from his hair to his back, trying to press him even more against you.
“Fuck, shit, I’m close, so close!” You frantically confess towards the ceiling.
“Me too, me too.” Hotch breathes against your neck, one hand moving so he can unbutton your shirt and get his lips on your collarbone. He starts to suck and bite at a spot there, and that is what does you in. You come just seconds after your shirt is open for him, moaning loudly.
“Fuck!” You hear Hotch mutter against your skin, and then a mutter of your name as he comes, in a low baritone that you think you will remember for the rest of your life.
You lay there panting for several seconds, or perhaps minutes, you’re not sure, just a mess of limbs, most of Hotch’s weight on top of you.
It’s hot, in more ways than one, which is what forces you to push Hotch off you, to get some air. He goes willingly, flopping down on his back next to you on the bed. A few panting breaths before you both turn to look at the other, smiles, then laughter as the situation sinks in. You’re surprisingly the first to gain somewhat of a control over yourself, grinning as you speak.
“We just came in our pants, what are we, teenagers?” Hotch pushes his weight up on his elbows, wincing as apparently something pulls somewhere.
“I don’t know about you, but I certainly don’t feel like one.” Hotch smiles as you, which you return, letting your eyes wander all over him now that you can. His hair is standing in a million different directions, there’s a blush to his cheeks, his clothes are rumpled, a wet spot is forming on the front of his pants, and he looks as fucked and blissed out as you, and most certainly he, feels. You hum, your attention going back to his face.
“We should get cleaned up.” You state, which Hotch nods in response.
“I think you mean you should get us cleaned up. My legs feels like jello right about now.” You raise a brow and he grins.
“I think your massage turned off something in my legs.” You huff, incredulous, but sit up anyway.
“I’m good, but not that good.”
“Well, the sex certainly helped.” You laugh and lean down to give him a kiss, which is mostly smiling lips pressed against each other.
“Flatterer.”
“Hey, what can I say, you got magic fingers.” You smack his chest and laugh as you get up to go the bathroom, your own legs a little shaky, which Hotch doesn’t comment on, but you know he liked by the way he grins at you when you get back to the bed.
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itsallmightbitch · 3 years
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Hell Week
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Where have I been you ask? Recovering from the moment I found out that All Might’s middle finger is 6.2 inches long- that’s where. Jesus Lord I haven’t stopped sweating since.
Pairing: All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Reader
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Choking, Daddy kink, slight Praise kink and semi-public sex. Minors- even though I can’t make you not interact- I can come to your house and tell your mother and I want you to picture how that interaction would go down. I’ll show her your browser history I swear to God-
Word Count: 11,000+ 
Summary: Exam season had finally rolled around at U.A. and had been lovingly dubbed Hell Week by every long suffering member of staff there. All Might didn’t think it would be that bad- until it starts to get in the way of him doing one of his favourite activities. 
Namely you.
*as always, the gif isn’t mine but is oddly appropriate for the story O_O
-
You hated Hell Week but then... so did everyone.
 Those were the first thoughts you had when you stepped into the lecture hall on a sunny Monday morning. Desks upon desks, lined in neat rows, filled the room from front to back- each one with it’s own face down paper on top.
 It was exam season. It was exactly like flu season but with far more suffering.
 There was however, one very faint light at the end of the tunnel and it was the only reason you weren’t hopping a plane to some far away country and hiding there until this was all over. All Might, the big lovable dork, had zero idea of what was about to hit him. He’d only been teaching at UA for just under a year- missing the last exam season but just in time for this one.
 He’d been fucking you just a little bit longer than that but in all the time you’d been seeing him, you’d never brought up just how horrible it was.
 By the time you made it across the room, the door was opening again and sure enough, All Might ducked under the doorway to the lecture hall looking far more put together than he had when you’d left him that morning. You hadn’t had the heart to wake him as he’d sprawled out across your bed- his skinny frame taking up just as much room as his muscular one did.
 He was such a bed hog, you thought, a smile tugging at your lips.
 Looking far too cheerful for this time of the morning- and clearly oblivious about what was to come- he slipped through the desks and headed straight for you. Even though his eagerness to see you made your heart thump harder in your chest, you couldn’t stop the snort of laughter that escaped either.
 He was simply awful at hiding your relationship. The only reason you hadn’t been outed to the whole school yet was because you were a little more restrained than he was. 
Well... that and you told Hizashi to stop fucking prying into your business with such heat in your voice that anyone within earshot had decided to comply too and had left you both alone.
 Still, the fact that Toshinori couldn’t seem to help himself, couldn’t stop himself being near you all the time… it brought to life the butterflies that had made a permanent home in your stomach. So much for it being just sex.
 That had gone out of the window long ago.
 “Good morning,” he rumbled, finally next to you and you grinned up at him affectionately. His tie was crooked- the only indication that he’d woken up a little too late for comfort and slept through the alarm you’d set before you’d left for work. Glancing around, you found that you were alone with him and so you reached up, straightening the knot and smoothing the material flat against his solid chest.
 “Hi,” you answered at long last and it was the only thing you had time to say before his lips found yours for a kiss.
 You melted into it. There hadn’t really been much time for kisses lately. Between hero work and exam week prep, you’d both been exhausted and the only reason he’d even stayed over the night before was because he’d graciously offered to help you mark homework and lighten the load. You’d fallen into bed and slept deeply without even a thought of doing anything else- which was admittedly unusual for you both. Despite long work days and how tired his injury made him, Toshinori was insatiable when it came to you.
 Not that you were bragging or anything but… well. Look at him. You were goddamn blessed.
 “I missed you this morning,” he said, pulling back and looking down at you with those deep, pretty eyes of his. A shiver of lust made it’s way through you and you were suddenly sorry you hadn’t gone through with your plan to wake him up before you’d left. He’d just looked so damn sweet with his face buried in your pillow, snoring softly, that you’d decided to leave him be.
 You graced him with a winning smile.
 “Didn’t want to disturb you,” you said, glancing towards the double doors at the back of the room. You could hear footsteps approaching and you knew he could too, by the way his eyes followed your line of sight seconds later. “You looked like you needed the sleep, baby.”
 He flashed you a grin, his eyebrows raising in an expression you knew all too well. All Might was horny and he wasn’t afraid to let you know about it- despite the sounds of other people getting ever closer. Arousal made your stomach dip low and you shivered involuntarily.
 A big, warm hand curled around your waist and you were suddenly tugged closer until you were plastered against him, your hands pressing flat on his hard chest.
 Oh yeah, you thought smugly. 
This man was hot for you and your eyes mindlessly followed the path his tongue took over his teeth, coming to a stop on the point of his canine. The hand that was on your waist slid lower, to the small of your back and then across the curve of your ass until his fingers slipped ever so lightly to press between your legs.
 The noise you made was highly inappropriate for the workplace but fuck, when he acted like this it drove you to the point of losing any inhibitions you would normally have.
 “I’ll make it up to you tonight, sweetheart,” he said, his voice lowering to that timbre that had talked you into doing absolutely unspeakable things with only a few, encouraging words. “As many times as you want, for as long as you want.”
 You bit your lip, a grin threatening to break through.
 “Oh Toshi,” you cooed, patting his chest sympathetically. He was absolutely oblivious to the horror that was about to hit him square in the face.
 The doors at the top of the auditorium slammed open with a metallic thunk and within seconds you had escaped his grasp to stand at an appropriate distance, laughing inwardly at his puppy dog head tilt. His thick eyebrow quirked in question and you shot him one last pitying look. “You have no idea what you’re in for this week, do you?”
 You almost felt guilty for not elaborating and you had no doubt that he’d get revenge on you in some way, shape or form in the coming months. But for now you left it vague- left him looking confused but unable to question you as Aizawa and Nemuri approached with a line of sullen looking teenagers behind them.
 He wouldn’t have the time or energy to breathe this week, let alone do anything remotely athletic in the bedroom.
 It wasn’t called Hell Week for nothing.
 -
 It was Wednesday. You were tantalizingly close to the end of the week but also far too far away from it.
 Brushing against Toshinori while you passed each other in the aisle- supposedly observing the students as they scribbled away- was the most action either of you had gotten for days now. You didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose exactly, but the big jerk made it a point to touch you every time. Brushing his hand against yours. A palm on the small of your back as he gave way and let you through- so gentlemanly to any observer but the tension in his touch was a dead giveaway.
 The way his eyes darkened and he exhaled impatiently through his nose, almost as though if he opened his mouth he would say something entirely inappropriate. He wasn’t being chivalrous in his head in the least.
 He was thinking about fucking you and hard.
 It eventually got to the point that you couldn’t resist. 
Teasing him was just in your nature and every little innocent touch as your bodies passed so close was driving you insane. So as you passed him by at the back of the room, as far away from prying ears as possible, you whispered-
 “I’m so fucking wet for you right now.”
 - so softly that it could have been nothing at all. He heard you just fine though and you felt his whole body tense like he was being electrocuted.
 You carried on, grinning to yourself smugly as you did and all the while Toshinori stood like a statue- eyes wide and lips parted like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard come out of your mouth. He glanced back at your retreating form, his tongue pressing hard against the inside of his cheek.
 Oh yeah, you had royally pissed him off.
 And turned him on.
 Terribly proud of yourself, you went back to being an excellent teacher and leaned over to help an impatient Bakugo- who had run out of paper for his final question and by the looks of it, fucks to give too. Honestly, same. 
It took a couple of minutes for you to grab some extra paper at the front of the room and reassure the kid that his answer was on the right track, as vaguely as possible of course- so by the time you were about to make another pass of your boyfriend, you’d almost forgotten what you had said the last time.
 He clearly hadn’t.
 “Phone.”
 That was all he said as he passed you, his lips quirking at the corner and by the time you were at the front of the room with your back away from prying eyes, you were itching to know what he’d meant by that.
 You hadn’t felt your phone buzz in your pocket- although you had been distracted up until now and it was likely it had gone off without you noticing. Although you also hadn’t seen Toshi with his phone out either, unless he was being extra sneaky. 
Which at this point, you wouldn’t put past him.
 Sure enough, there it was on your screen. A message notification from ‘The Big Guy’. You smiled and despite your better judgement, you opened it in front of fifty or so quiet, focused students. After all, what could it possibly be other than maybe a little dirty response to what you’d whispered to him earlier?
 When your joined chat opened at last, the noise you made wasn’t human. It caught in your throat and when a few of the kids looked up in confusion, you had to pass it off as a cough before they began to ask questions.
Questions like, why are you turning that shade of red? Or, why did you just make a noise like a dying swan?
 All Might, that lovable, sweet, smiling number one hero, was leering at you from the back of the room- his grin absolutely filthy.
 When you were satisfied that the kids were focused on their exams again, you stared at the picture he’d sent you, face flushing hot.
 When the fuck had he even taken this?
 The photo was taken from a very low angle, his expression in the background much like the one he was wearing right now as he watched you- except his cheeks were a little pinker. He was wearing his hero costume, reclining on what looked like the bed in his apartment with one hand gripping the headboard behind his head.
 The picture of relaxation and innocence.
 Except his outfit was splayed open and his cock was jutting out from it proudly. You could see the fucking precum beading on the head, all shiny in the low light and you were practically drooling over your phone when it buzzed again.
 “Shit-” you hissed, jumping and almost dropping it. That would have been sensational. A picture of All Might’s cock sailing majestically across the floor for all the students to see.
 You hurriedly scrolled down to read what he’d messaged you.
 ‘You looked a little flustered. Everything okay?’
 The bastard had even attached a winking emoji to the end of the text and you were both pissed off that he’d gotten the better of you and impressed that he’d taken such a fucking great nude. Then had the courage to send it to you, whereas months ago he would have chickened out and complained about you seeing the scar across his side.
With embarrassingly shaky fingers you managed to type out a reply, not even able to stay mad.
 ‘Baby, no lie. You should wear every outfit like that’, you responded, chewing on your bottom lip in a vain attempt to keep the smile off your face. ‘Crime would drop to an all time fucking low’.
 Carrying on your route again, you watched him from your peripheral as he innocently took his phone out to read your response, so nonchalant and cocky.
 After a moment of reading, he barked a loud laugh that turned a few heads, before turning pink and muttering an apology to the students he’d just disturbed.
You nudged him playfully the next time you passed each other, winking at him and then feeling incredibly pleased with yourself when he grinned and shook his head- clearly enjoying the moment that had passed between you in full view of everyone.
 But, despite the thrumming sexual tension that crackled between you both for the rest of the day, by the time you got home there was only half an hour in which to change into your hero outfits and stare longingly at each other before going your separate ways for the evening.
 You were taking a fucking vacation this time next year and Nezu, the little sociopath, could pry your holiday hours from your cold, dead hands.
-
 “On your knees. Now.”
 Caught by surprise, you spun around in what you had thought was the empty auditorium- only to come face to chest with your very tall, very haggard looking boyfriend.
 “Huh?” you said stupidly, because the request wasn’t quite what you’d been expecting him to say. Not that you’d expected anyone at all to still be wandering around when the weekend and sweet, sweet freedom was calling.
 It was Friday and the last exam of Hell Week had finished an hour ago- a moment you’d both been looking forward to since the first set of exams had started. In fact, the way the other teachers had all but sprinted past the kids on the way out- you guessed that you and Toshi weren’t the only ones who had been willing this week to end.
 Toshinori had quickly figured out that he was not in for an easy work week as he’d first thought and the mounting pressure of grading papers, comforting stressed teenagers at all hours of the day and attempting to not have a breakdown had taken it’s toll.
 Every night, you’d both crawled into bed at some ungodly hour after midnight, exhausted from grading and the ever persistent hero work that took up a good chunk of your evenings. On top of all that, you knew Toshinori was still sneaking off every lunch time to get in a training session with Midoriya- and not eating anything the entire time either.
 You’d begun to sneak Midoriya lunches to share with his mentor just to make sure your boyfriend was at least getting something through the day and not neglecting himself as he always did.
 Then, you’d been over compensating with dinner and as a result had even less time to do anything remotely relating to a relationship.
 The only time the two of you had been close this week was when you woke up extra early for cuddles and even they couldn’t last long when the alarm would start to blare.
 All that and the pent up sexual tension meant that when Toshi told you to get on your knees with that ravenous look in his eye, your panties were soaking in seconds. However, there was still a little, itty bitty part of you with some common sense left at least and you glanced around the room before giving him a pointed look.
 “Babe, I know this week has been rough but is this really a good idea? What if someone comes?”
 You heard it the moment it left your lips and when you looked at his expression it was full of barely repressed mirth, his shoulders already shaking. He could be so immature sometimes. You rolled your eyes, despite your own smile spreading on your face.
 “Shut up, you know what I mean.”
 “You think anyone, student or teacher is going to want to look at this room again before Monday? The only reason I’m still in it is because all I’ve been thinking about, all day, is you sucking my cock sweetheart. I don’t think I can wait until we get home,” he rumbled in that deep, sexy baritone that he brought out whenever he wanted something from you.
 The one you found it impossible to say no to.
 His fingers trailed over your cheek and he took the moment of weakness in your resolve to swoop down and kiss you hard.
 You’d barely even had a moment to kiss this week and so the second his mouth was on yours, common sense was tied up and gagged. Horny you was now in charge and fuck, your boyfriend was looking fine today.
 It took no more persuasion for you to drop to your knees in front of him and when you looked up at him, impossibly tall as he was, his cheeks were pink and his eyes dark. He probably thought it would have taken a lot more persuasion than that but what could you say?
 Getting dicked down in the school was on your bucket list anyway and right now you imagined that it was hastily being added to his as well.
 “If anyone catches us, I’m leaving the country,” you muttered, taking another cursory glance around. This position was incriminating enough should someone walk in- and you weren’t even doing anything yet. Imagine the scandal if someone caught you blowing All Might- paragon of virtue and strength- in the middle of your workplace.
It was almost enough to make you stand back up again and put a stop to the whole thing but then he went and palmed the very obvious erection that was straining against the front of his pants and all you could suddenly think about was licking him from top to bottom.
 “I won’t let anyone catch us,” he said reassuringly. He pointed to his ear as though you’d forgotten about the whole, excellent hearing thing. You snorted.
 “Toshi, no offence but when we’re in the middle of sex a bomb could go off under the bed and you wouldn’t hear it.”
 He looked momentarily offended before his expression dropped into a sheepish smile, one big hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He knew you were right. Once he got into the zone there was no stopping him. It was kind of sweet, how intense he became. Even if you weren’t playing a game and just having some nice, lazy vanilla sex, he would get all possessive and serious and pull you in close to gaze into your eyes like it was the end of the world-
 You only realized you had spaced out when he spoke again and you snapped back to reality with a rising flush on your face.
 “Heh, I guess you’re right. But I promise, I won’t let anyone sneak up on us. You can count on me,” he beamed down at you and that promise alone was enough to make you relax and nod your consent.
 His tongue swept over his bottom lip as the air in the room suddenly shifted, turning electric and leaving you both buzzing with the knowledge that you were about to do something very naughty.
 Finding out that Toshinori was as kinky as you had been a bit of a shock at first. You’d expected him to be a the kind of guy who was insanely careful with his strength and as a result, gentle in bed. The sort of man who would whisper sweet words of encouragement to you and treat you like a princess the whole time.
 While there were times he did just that, imagine your surprise one night when he’d grabbed the back of your neck and told you to be a good girl and suck his dick. Ever since then, it had been one wild ride with you never quite knowing what he was going to do next.
 Afterwards, he’d quite shyly admitted that he’d never been entirely comfortable with letting anyone see that side of him.
 So he’d kept it hidden just in case.
 You nuzzled your nose against the straining bulge at the front of his pants, whining for him. Toshinori quirked an eyebrow at you, petting your head lazily.
 “Look at you,” he murmured, sounding undone already. “You’re always so eager for Daddy’s cock, huh?”
 It was no secret that it ruined you when he said things like that. Sweet, lovable All Might had an absolutely filthy mouth in bed and it turned you on every time he brought it out. His thick fingers trailed down your cheek, while his other hand slipped his loose tie from his neck with a snap.
 “You know, everything you do turns me on,” he mused, his head cocked to one side as he stared down at you. His voice was like butter and you felt your thighs quiver. “It’s almost as though you know what you’re doing. Do you enjoy it? Knowing that all you have to do is look at me and I’m hard as a rock in seconds?”
 You nodded, a little too eagerly.
 “What are you gonna do about it, Daddy?” you breathed, excitedly. Because you already knew what he was going to do. A muscle in his jaw ticked
This week had royally sucked and there was only one thing that was going to improve it. His mouth quirked at the corner despite the stern demeanour he was aiming for. That mouth had done some damn fine things to you in the past and you didn’t doubt that it would keep going in the future.
A pleasant feeling of wetness spread slowly but steadily between your legs. 
Your lips parted, soft puffs of breath warming the front of his pants. His cock was so close and you wanted it, wanted to take him into your mouth and give him a front row seat to just how much you enjoyed sucking him off.
In public no less.
“Hang on, sweetheart,” he soothed, noticing how impatient you were.
Suddenly, the soft silken material of his tie was being wrapped around your throat and knotted. He twisted the other end and wound it around his fist, giving an experimental tug. 
When it tightened ever so slightly, you moaned. It was nowhere near tight enough yet but you could already imagine it digging in and making you choke. Fuck, being choked- controlled like this shouldn’t have sent sparks dashing across every nerve ending- but it did and you tugged back to tighten it a little bit more.
“Better?” he asked and you nodded eagerly, dying to get on with things. The material around your throat was just tight enough to remind you who was in control here and you looked up at him through your eyelashes, pressing an open mouthed kiss against the outline of his cock. 
He grunted, pleased.
“Okay, you know the rules sweetheart. Red if you want to stop. Yellow if you need a second to breathe. Green if everything is fine. What’s our safe word?”
“Toshi,” you breathed, exasperated but not overly so. “I know the safe word. We’re on a time limit here baby.”
“Humour me,” was his firm, no nonsense answer and he gave you a look that meant he wasn’t messing around. He wanted to be sure that you knew it. 
You nodded. You were both experienced enough now that he didn’t really need to repeat the rules every time but it was sweet that he did anyway. Usually he would go above and beyond to make sure you were comfortable when you played like this and despite being on something of a time limit, now was no exception.
It was also just one of the many reasons that the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing had never worked out between you two. He was just too damn good to you. 
Any limits you had tried to impose between each other had quickly dissolved until you were both forced to admit that you wanted more than just sex. Not that you were complaining at all.
A quick, forceful tug on your makeshift leash brought you back to reality and you finally laughed, “Okay, okay! Watermelon.”
It only took a little guffaw on his part to trigger more of your own dumb laughter.
You both giggled to yourselves at the absurdity behind that word- a shared story of absolute shame, embarrassment and too much tequila that must never be told again. Why he’d insisted on it being your safe word you would never know but it was clear by now that you had trouble saying no to him.
He beamed down at you, all starry eyed and you were well aware that you expression mirrored his. Still smiling like a lovesick idiot, you nuzzled against him, nosing at the zipper of his slacks and making an impatient noise.
In a split second, his eyes darkened like he suddenly remembered where you both were. 
Auditorium.
U.A.
A very big possibility of getting caught doing something incredibly naughty. You sobered, partly because of the thrill of danger thrumming through your veins. Partly because the number one hero was staring down at you, tie in hand and looking like he wanted nothing more than to eat you whole.
“So,” he rumbled, voice like thunder in the sky, sounding miles away from his usual cheery self and more like a teacher about to dish out some serious punishment. “Are you going to keep me waiting? I’m getting impatient sweetheart.” 
No, you thought hazily, feeling your knees tremble and your clit throb in time with your racing heart. You would definitely have to do something about that. So you shook your head enthusiastically.
“Good girl,” he praised and you immediately felt a headrush, your fingers clenching tightly in the material of his slacks. “Now, take Daddy’s cock out for him,” he said and the words left no room for argument. Hah. Like you even would. Trailing your fingers across the front of his zipper, you were more than happy to do as he asked.
 You undid the button with shaking fingers and then down came the zip, bit by bit until you could push both sides wide apart. Dipping your hand into his now open pants, you felt his gaze boring into the top of your head- intense and heated as he watched you do as he said. At last, you wrapped your hand around the thick shaft of his cock and tugged him out. He hissed softly as it met the cool air of the room.
 All you could think was finally.
 He was just centimetres away from your face, all thick and solid- the tip leaking beads of precum that drooled down to where your fingers were on him. You wanted to lick them up, taste him on your tongue but you didn’t dare move because he hadn’t told you to yet.
 “Do you want something, sweetheart?” he asked and you felt sudden relief that this wasn’t about to go to waste.
 “Can I lick you? Please,” you managed to say through heavy breaths and a groan caught in his chest. He wasn’t exactly immune to dirty talk and he’d admitted to you once that hearing you talk like that made him hard. Honestly, you didn’t think he could get any harder.
 You could feel the thrum of his blood pumping, making his cock pulse in your hand.
 He gripped himself at the base and you let go, albeit reluctantly, when he tugged on his tie. Moving himself forward a little, he rubbed the head across your lips and you desperately wanted to open up and take him in but you refrained.
 “Mouth open. Tongue out,” he said, his voice strained and you obeyed.
 Red flushed across your cheeks when his gaze trailed over your face and he groaned, fist tightening around the tie in his hand. He rested the head of his cock on your tongue for just a moment, watching the precum continue to bead out- sliding down into your mouth now instead of being wasted.
 You made an impatient noise that, were you both at home with plenty of time, wouldn’t have gone unpunished- but time was of the essence here.
 Sort of.
 “Just admiring the view, princess,” he said after an agonizing moment of simply staying still. Wetness was spreading between your legs, warm and slick and the ache that accompanied it was intense. “You really do look amazing like that.”
 Toshi pressed further into your mouth, revelling in the hot wet heat that welcomed him.
 He was big and you had to relax your jaw a lot to take him inside but you were more than used to it- seeing as one of his favourite activities was watching you go down on him. He kept going until he was barely brushing the back of your throat and he gave himself a squeeze as though to keep himself in check.
 He let go then and trailed his thumb down, across your bottom lip and chin before pulling away completely.
 “Now suck me off,” he ordered, an edge of strain to his voice.
 You did just that, eager to please him. The tie tightened again around your neck- probably involuntarily as you went to town- but it still spurred a strangled moan out of you that vibrated through his cock.
 He grunted your name, his hips bucking. You could tell that he was restraining himself though, considering you hadn’t been thrown clean across the room.
 You hollowed your cheeks and dragged upwards, using the flat of your tongue on the underside of him.
 “That’s it sweetheart,” he moaned. “Just like that. You’re so good for Daddy. So hot,” he said mindlessly, a string of incoherent thoughts just spilling from his lips as he got lost in the pleasure of your mouth. You couldn’t help but feel a little proud that you could put him in this state just with a blowjob.
 “You’re perfect baby,” he sighed, his head dropping back to enjoy the feeling of the hot, wet suction on his cock. You traced a line along the vein that protruded from the length of him with the point of your tongue and saw his thigh muscles twitch hard. 
 Your body sang in response. It had taken you so long to bring him out of his shell at the beginning of your relationship and now here he was- getting sucked off in the middle of an auditorium, singing your praises out loud for anyone to hear.
From convincing him that your age difference didn’t bother you in the slightest, to coaxing him into being a little rougher in bed, it had been a long road, getting him to open up about his likes and dislikes. Getting him to put his trust in you. Making him believe that you wouldn’t laugh, wouldn’t judge him, wouldn’t walk away because he had a kink you didn’t like.
 But in the end, all of your kinks had actually aligned.
 Choking, domination, praise-
 The day you’d accidentally called him Daddy for the first time, though… Oh that had been something else.
 You had been riding him on the living room floor, setting an almost punishing pace that would leave you both spent for the rest of the day. Somehow, you had convinced him to keep the curtains open- the thought of getting caught thrilling you down to the bone even though he’d looked intimidated at the implication.
 Although he’d insisted that you be on top and had even smoothed down his hair to try and stay out of sight and that had made you giggle- the thought of the headlines the next day should you get caught.
 Breaking News! All Might’s Dick Just As Big As We’d Expected! Lucky Woman Found Unconscious At Scene!
 Your knees had been red and sore from the rug underneath you but you’d been so mindlessly set on coming that you’d barely noticed.
 His fingers were digging hard into your hips and the moment you’d started bouncing in his lap, his sense of privacy had gone and he was into it- encouraging you to roll your hips, pressing your tits together to push his face between them and spurring you onwards with an absolutely filthy monologue.
 You stood by the fact that it had not been your fault. Especially when he’d started with the whole, ‘you’re such a good girl’ shit. You had been close- so close and he’d been panting your praises and the damn words had slipped out without you meaning them to.
 A broken, stilted sob of-
 “Fu-uck yeah, harder Daddy!”
 You’d continued for another three seconds- full porn star mode activated- until you’d realized what you’d just said and all movement had ceased. Apart from the slow raising of your head to look him in the eye, deer in headlights meets startled rabbit, neither of you made a motion to continue.
 “Um… I- Sorry, it just slipped out,” you’d said sheepishly, body still thrumming from the thrill of saying it out loud and from the orgasm that had been tantalizingly close. He still hadn’t spoken, lips parted as though he wanted to try but was failing spectacularly. “It’s okay if you aren’t into it baby!” you had continued hastily. “If you want we can just forget about it-”
 “No!” he’d said, finally finding his voice at long last. His hips had snapped upwards, rattling your brain and driving his cock inside again with a new, energized rhythm. “No, no, no… Don’t be embarrassed. I liked it,” he’d rumbled, burying his face against your neck, pressing hot, desperate kisses to your skin. “You can say it again if you want.”
 Who the Hell were you to argue with All Might when he was asking you to do that?
 After that, the age difference, the scars he bore, the kinks you both shared- it all felt much more open. There was a newfound easiness to your relationship. You felt like you could share anything with him and vice versa and because of that, you swiftly discovered that Toshinori was kinky as Hell.
 And just as repressed.
 He didn’t dare share those parts of himself before because if they were ever repeated to newspapers or reporters, he would face inevitable ridicule from the general public because he was put on such an untouchable pedestal. It had greatly upset you that because of who he was and what he put on the line every day, he wasn’t allowed to be himself even in private.
But he’d never trusted anyone, he told you then, the way he trusted you.
 At the thought of him saying those words to you, you groaned, mouth full as you slid him inside as far as you could. His head snapped back up to stare at you, his lips parting and a throaty moan slipping out. You rolled back, bobbing your head in an easy rhythm and with each downwards stroke, you took him in further.
 Drool made him slick and shiny and easy to take, but you still had to grip his thigh for support the further you went. Once again, the tie around your throat tightened. It was just tight enough now to start making itself known- start to be worrying but the mere feel of it was making your clit throb painfully between your legs.
 You wanted more.
 You wanted him to choke you with it.
 Breathing through your nose now, you let your throat relax and finally took him in as far as you were physically capable. Your wish abruptly came true and the feeling of the head of his cock pressing down the back of your throat, coupled with the tightness of the tie, made you gag around him.
 Toshinori swore, loudly, half in pleasure and half in concern.
 But when he made to pull out of your mouth, the hand that had been gripping his thigh found his ass instead and you refused to let him go. You made a noise of protest and he stopped moving altogether, his stuttering hips trying desperately not to buck into you and make it any worse.
 You had to make a conscious effort to ignore your gag reflex, dropping your head forward to take him in again- albeit a little more carefully than before. Just before he could hit the back of your throat, you slowed down to a crawl, working him in further without making your body panic.
 The sensation wrenched a full body shiver from him, his breath heaving in his broad chest.
 “That’s my girl,” he praised fervently, his cheeks hot and the muscles in his abdomen fluttering and twitching. “You’re the best little cocksucker ever, aren’t you darling?” You absolutely would have answered if your mouth wasn’t currently occupied. His words were turning you on, making you desperate for an orgasm but your hands were far too busy on him to think about touching yourself.
 He would take care of you later, no doubt. So for now, you concentrated on bringing him to the edge.
 Now, usually you weren’t one to blow your own horn but in this case, you would openly and quite proudly admit that you had a knack for getting him off. Especially with your mouth. You’d never given a blowjob with quite as much enthusiasm as you did when it was with him and it was like he knew that.
 He was panting softly, his chest rising and falling above you and making the already straining buttons of his shirt even tauter as his muscles flexed.
 Such was your enjoyment of his reactions that the fact that you kept choking on the tip of his cock was only a mild inconvenience. He tasted hot and salty on your tongue, precum mixing thickly with your saliva and escaping from the corner of your mouth.
 He grit his teeth, a growl half mingled with a moan dragged from his throat at the sight.
 He caught it halfway down your chin with a swipe of his thumb and then tugged on the tie around your neck. Reluctantly, you released him- silently proud of the slick, dark pink throbbing mess that you’d left him in. Your jaw ached, yeah, but it wasn’t unbearable and it quickly eased now that he wasn’t in your mouth any more.
 You parted your lips in anticipation of his thumb- assuming he wasn’t going to let you waste anything.
 “Uh-uh, lips closed sweetheart.”
 You raised your eyebrows, amused at his hungry expression and did as he said. But not before biting your bottom lip, dragging your teeth over it to leave it redder than it had been. His shoulders dropped when he heaved a pleased, wanting sigh.
 “Absolute tease,” he murmured fondly, before smearing the come and saliva across your closed lips to make them shiny.
 Before he could move his hand away, your tongue darted out to catch him and he humoured you instead of giving you a warning tug on the tie. He pressed his thumb between your waiting lips- still sticky with precum and saliva and the groan that he released when you swirled your tongue around him was sinful.
 A full body tremor ran from your toes to your fingertips and he noticed- because this was All Might and he noticed everything. His lips tugged upwards in a devastatingly attractive smirk- the kind you would see on a villain’s face in the heat of battle. 
It was so unusual, but fuck did it look good on him.
 Your palms flattened on his muscular thighs, sliding upwards and drinking in the warmth radiating from him under your fingertips. More than anything you wanted to pull his pants down further- feel his skin under your hand but he was calling the shots and you didn’t dare. There was also the fact that if anyone were to walk in they would get an eyeful off his bare ass and no-one was allowed that privilege but you.
 He smoothed his fingers across your cheek, cupping your face in his massive hand and tilting your head up to look at him. Honestly, you must have looked like a disaster zone.
 Cheeks red with arousal, practically panting, lips parted in anticipation.
 That only seemed to turn him on more. His eyes flashed with lust and his tongue darted out and what you wouldn’t give right now to be able to read his mind. When he took his hand away to grip the base of his cock, you whined pathetically. You didn’t really know what you wanted though and right now you didn’t have the words to actually vocalize it either.
 Did you need to come? Absolutely.
 Did you also need to have his cock back in your mouth? Yes, with a capital Y.
 Not to mention the tie was going a little slack and you were beginning to miss the tightness around your throat. A thought quickly crossed your mind that made you clench your thighs, shivering under the pulse of arousal that washed over you. You wanted his hand around your throat instead.
 Toshinori cocked his head to the side, still stroking himself.
 You tugged on his pinstripe slacks and then pitched forward to press an open mouthed kiss against the shaft of his cock- sloppily almost missing and kissing his fingers too. You were shaking, trembling with the sweet ache and you desperately needed something to take the edge off.
 “Colour?” he asked, tugging you away gently by the tie.
 “Yellow,” you breathed, clit throbbing with tension that you couldn’t do anything about and your body tightly thrumming.
 He seemed genuinely surprised by your choice, though the silken material around your throat went slack almost immediately and he took a swift step away from you- giving you the space that you didn’t actually want. All you really wanted was an opportunity to talk openly.
 “Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his tone as he took in your dishevelled state- as though he was seeing what he’d done to you clearly for the first time. “Is the tie too tight? Do you need some water or-”
 You waved him off with your hand, trying to catch your breath long enough to actually speak. Your throat was dry sure, but not for the reason he was thinking. Goddamn this man and the things he did to you- whether he meant them or not.
 “No- No Toshi,” you answered, breathlessly, chest heaving. “I’m fine, I just- Please, I want your hand instead of the tie.”
 The only indication that he was surprised by the request was a quirk of his eyebrows.
 “Oh,” he snorted softly, his cock bobbing back and forth with every movement he made. Your gaze zoned in on it, lips parting almost expectantly despite still being on a momentary time out. “You had me worried there for a second. I thought you weren’t enjoying yourself.”
 “You know me better than that, Toshi,” you admonished, tugging at his slacks again. When he didn’t move, a pleading whine caught in your throat.
 “M’ waiting sweetheart,” he sing-songed lightly and you shivered from head to toe as the game began again. The tie drew taught, almost too quickly as his excitement got the better of him. A strangled gasp cut off in the air as you looked up at him, wondering how he seemed so composed while you were basically reduced to pieces on the floor.
 “Please, Daddy,” you pouted, impatient but still willing to give him what he wanted.
 The words and the sight of you, basically begging on your knees, urged him into action and any further teasing he might have been considering was abandoned. You both needed to come, that much was clear and drawing it out any longer wasn’t helping either of you.
 Long, powerful fingers curled around your throat and your pussy throbbed as though an electric current had passed between you both. Granted, from the way he was staring at you as he ducked down to reach you, it might as well have.
 You were pliant and easily led, rising to your feet with the barest hint of a tug. You wrapped a hand over his wrist to steady yourself, thrilled when as usual, your fingers didn’t stand a chance of meeting around it.
 He squeezed and your legs quivered, a tremble wracking your thighs.
 His other hand had abandoned the tie now and instead swept up over your thigh as he walked you backwards. You hit the desk with a bump but Toshinori didn’t give you more than a second to get your bearings. He leaned past you and despite the mess you would have to clear up before you both went home, he swept one big arm across the surface of the desk to clear it for you.
 Everything scattered in a wide arc but you were much too busy lifting yourself up to sit on the edge, your boyfriend’s fingers tightening ever so slightly around your neck. His hand was so damn big that his fingers actually met around the circumference and knowing that did little to quell the heat in your belly.
 “Baby,” you muttered needily but Toshi was already sweeping forward to kiss you- all tongue and teeth and he really didn’t seem to care that you probably tasted of his own cock right now because the way his tongue pressed and licked at your own was almost obscene.
 You were, officially, a disaster zone of a human being.
 Toshi squeezed again and you broke away from his kiss with a choked moan of desperation. The week long drought had finally, finally broken you.
 “Please,” you whined. “Please, please, please-”
 He was already unbuttoning your jeans, thick fingers fumbling on the button and zipper until at last you batted his hand away and did it yourself, ignoring his chuckle at how eager you were. His cock jutted proudly from his open pants and his shirt had come untucked at some point that you couldn’t remember but it gave him a dishevelled, ‘just fucked’ look that was doing things to you.
 Not that there was much more to be done.
 The whole thing was reminding you of the picture he’d sent you two days ago and what you wouldn’t have given to have been there that time too.
 He let go of your neck briefly to help you out of your jeans and panties, stripping you from the waist down.
 A moment later and his hands went in two different directions.
 One cupped between your legs, forcing them apart as he dipped his two middle fingers between the lips of your pussy. A breath caught in his chest. You had been soaking wet ever since he’d told you to get on your knees for fuck’s sake. The other hand, to your relief, went right back where you wanted it to be.
 He pressed you backwards on the now empty desk until your back level with the surface and you were staring up at the ceiling. You were almost vibrating in anticipation, hitching your knees up to rest on his hips and locking your ankles at the small of his back.
 Toshi hovered over you, all solid muscle and wolfish grin and you almost leaned up for a kiss before remembering that doing so would lead to you choking under his hand. You hadn’t had sex with him in this muscular form for a while now and sometimes you forgot just how fucking strong his grip was.
 Instead, you rolled your lower body upwards to encourage him to move and in doing so, accidentally rubbed yourself on his fingers.
 The sudden jolt of pressure against your clit went straight to your head and much to your utter shame, you mewled like a goddamn kitten. You made a fucking noise that sounded so pathetic it almost made you throw your hands up and put a stop to the whole thing.
 He was staring at you, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.
 “Not a word!” you warned, game forgotten for a moment- along with any urgency you might have had over being in public like this. “We are never, ever speaking of that again,” you muttered, face flushed with mortification when he opened his mouth to speak. “If I ever make a noise like that again, I want you to throw me into the sun- Oh fuck!”
 Toshinori, was now beaming from ear to ear, smug that he’d drawn it out of you.
 He very clearly disagreed with the verdict you’d given and once again, he dragged the pads of his thick fingers upwards to circle your clit lazily- and anything else that was about to come out of your mouth morphed into a pleased moan.
 “Ah, ah, ah, kitten,” he said and you scowled at him despite the throbbing, delicious pleasure he was currently providing you. You supposed that the flush on your face and the little pants you were letting out did nothing to make you seem intimidating. “I think that that was one of my favourite noises ever. Think I can make you make it again?” he asked, nuzzling between your breasts and your hardened nipples tingled against the fabric of your bra.
 “You’d better fucking not-” you tried to say.
 But all of a sudden, Toshi’s hand tightened around your throat and you gasped as he loomed over you. His fingers began to move in tight, fast little circles- the kind he would use when he wanted you to come quickly and you could already feel the building tension in your thighs and stomach as he glanced between you both to see what he was doing.
 He licked his lips and breathed out an appreciative sigh at the sight, squeezing your throat again.
 “Listen to Daddy, kitten,” he repeated, all no nonsense because apparently the game had begun again and hooray for you because you were absolutely about to win. “Because that wasn’t a request. Now, what do we say?” he asked and then dipped his fingers low and inside you, making the words you’d managed to get out break in the middle.
 “Yes! Y-es, Daddy!” you choked out, eyes watering as he fucked you with his fingers. God, the stretch was fantastic. He didn’t hold back either, keeping an almost punishing rhythm that had you gasping for air.
 He curled them ever so slightly and you shuddered, hips jerking upwards in a desperate attempt to either get closer or relieve the pressure. You had no idea which because his hand was choking you tightly enough that the only real thoughts in your head were badly strung together swear words.
 “That’s what I like to hear,” he hummed, pleased and for the second time today, he ran his tongue across his teeth and grinned at you. Even though most thoughts were being railed out of your head at an amazing speed, you did manage to notice that he was beginning to look a little desperate himself- despite the cool, calm demeanour he was presenting.
 You clenched your muscles around his fingers experimentally and sure enough, his jaw tightened- smile gone and his eyes predatory.
 “Since we’re in public, there isn’t enough time to do all the things I want to do to you… But we can make do, sweetheart, can’t we?” he asked and you nodded. You didn’t care what kind of marathon you were signing up to later as long as he kept going right now and did. Not. Stop.
 Then his fingers were gone and the fat head of his cock was parting your pussy, bearing down to push inside you. You arched you back as you cried out and Toshi shushed you sweetly, although he kept the grip on your neck firm so that you wouldn’t move around too much.
 Knowing that these hands could hit hard enough to level a city block only served to make you wetter than you already were and the pressure of his cock pushing into you was leaving you breathless. You made another pathetic noise- still stretching around him as he pressed on further.
 “Colour, kitten?” he asked suddenly, eyeing your absolutely wrecked expression.
 “Green! Green, baby please!” you bucked, trying to take him in faster. Toshinori snorted and held you firmly- despite your protest and plea for him to hurry things along. You might be well practiced in taking his cock, but that didn’t mean it didn’t require a good amount of preparation and it wasn’t something he was willing to just rush.
 He didn’t care if someone walked in and you had to stop altogether. He refused to let you get hurt just because you were both too eager to do this safely.
 On the other hand, you were holding onto his wrist for dear life with both hands, your fingers digging in and urging him to go faster.
 Splaying his free hand wide across your belly, Toshi held you still and with a short sharp thrust he finally felt the head of his cock push inside you. You made a noise of extreme satisfaction and now it was just a matter of slowly inching himself in bit by bit. He did so, as slowly as he could stand until he felt like you were at your limit.
 You were shaking, because if he didn’t move in the next three seconds you were going to move for him. Fuck the game at this point, he was teasing you to the point of absolute madness-
 Toshi watched your face as he pulled out and thrust back in, easy and slow to begin with. Your reaction was instantaneous.
 You cried out, hips rolling and one hand sliding up along his arm to grip what you could of his bicep. He smirked and did it again, loving the way your head pressed back against the wood and how fucking amazing his hand looked around your throat.
 You were on a whole other goddamn planet right now.
 Breathing was getting slightly difficult but not impossible and if you tapped his arm twice he would know to lighten up. You weren’t at your limit yet though and so you simply touched him where you could reach, needing the heat of his skin beneath your palms.
 His hand tightened again as he groaned, loudly and sinfully- like this was the most religious experience he’d ever had. Your vision blurred for a moment and the pressure in your stomach was twisting, winding tighter and tighter until it was dangerously close to snapping.
 Your whole body was lighting up, nerve endings firing and Toshi was now picking up the pace of his thrusts. He was still keeping them steady but his tempo increased, and the slick warmth between your legs was making your head spin. Or maybe it was the lack of oxygen-
 Fuck, you needed to breathe.
 You tapped his arm twice and his grip immediately lessened, eyes flashing towards your face in concern. But as you’d agreed on, he didn’t stop fucking you or remove his hand from your neck. That would have been three taps- and you were nowhere near fucked out enough for that yet.
 You sucked in a full breath, glad for the oxygen.
 “Okay baby?” he asked, leaning over you to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You nodded, finding the perfect opportunity to thread your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Such were the perks of having an absurdly tall boyfriend. He could comfortably fuck you and lean over to kiss you at the same time.
 He sighed into the kiss, hips snapping forward and you bit down on his bottom lip- before sucking it lightly. Toshi made a noise of pleasure but it was drowned out by your keening cry when he reached down to rub at your clit again.
 “Tighter again?” he asked after a moment of letting you catch your breath and you nodded eagerly, mouth falling open as he applied the pressure in increments. Bit by bit he strengthened his grip and you watched, fascinated as the muscles in his arm flexed while he did.
 He stopped moments before it became too much. The whole time he’d been carefully and precisely finding the sweet spot around your throat, he’d been keeping a steady pace between your thighs. He wasn’t bottoming out- having not really had the time or space to really prepare you for that absolutely magnum task.
 So you both settled for shallower thrusts, keeping the pace quick as you raced to the edge.
 Toshi was panting against your shoulder and your inner muscles were fluttering around him, almost there. So close it was killing you. If he slowed down right now, you were going to kill him. Thankfully, he seemed to be all out of fucks to give and he smirked when your nails dug into his wrist, baring his teeth and sinking them into your shoulder.
 You bucked almost painfully hard, a choked, cut off cry of his name leaving your lips. He let go, laving the bite with his tongue thoughtfully, soothing the sting. The thumb of the hand that was around your throat was rubbing up and down your jawline, gently reminding you not to get too carried away.
 But you were so close to coming right now that your attention was elsewhere- chasing the pleasure he was giving you with a one track mind. His whole upper body was covering yours now and the hand you had buried in his hair trailed down so you could hook your arm around his back.
 Palm flat, you took a second to appreciate the roll of his muscles under his shirt.
 He nuzzled you, forehead pressing against the side of your head and his mouth close to your ear so you could hear every shaky, barely held together inhale and exhale.
 “So good, sweetheart. You’re such a good girl,” he said and you squeezed your knees into his sides to let him know that you appreciated his praise. A lot. If there was one way to get you to do anything it was to call you a good girl and Toshinori knew and exploited that fact all the damn time. “You want to come? Yeah?” he asked as if it wasn’t obvious from the absolute state of you underneath him.
 He squeezed when you didn’t answer and you managed a pathetic-
 “Yes please Daddy.”
 -that was hoarse and pleading and fuck, please, please, please was all you could think. You needed to come. You had needed it all fucking week and that picture that he’d sent you had nearly stopped your heart on the spot. It was all you’d thought about for hours at a time.
 He was all you’d thought about.
 “I’m close too, kitten,” he huffed out, raising himself up on one forearm so he loomed over you again. “Tighter?” he asked again and you nodded as best you could, feeling his hips pick up speed even more. This was it. He choked you as tight as you could handle without tapping out and thrust forward at such an angle that he managed to brush against your clit at long last.
 The result was instantaneous.
 Your orgasm whited you out. It spread from your fingers to your toes and hit every nerve with a fucking baseball bat on the way down. If no-one knew what was going on in here before then they would definitely know now- considering you had just screamed Toshinori’s name loud enough to be heard across town.
 Between your garbled sobs and pleading and moans of his name mixed with obscenities, Toshi was barely holding on to himself. The strong contraction of your muscles around his cock was suddenly too much and he lost the battle to see you through to the end of your orgasm.
 He groaned, long and low when his balls tightened and he came- panting your name as his hips jerked repeatedly. You could feel the tremble in his muscles between your legs and the sweet, fulfilling sensation of him filling you up.
 He wasn’t as deep as he would normally be though and the result was a mess, your mixed come dripping out around his cock and down your ass- pooling on the table below.
 His forehead dropped to the wood beside you as you both slumped at the same time, utterly exhausted.
 “How are you holding up princess? You alright?” he asked after a long moment of simply breathing in time to yours- noticing the way your eyes were shut and your breathing was still hard.
 Opening your eyes at last, you smoothed your hand across the broad plane of his back, scratching your nails in a soft line between his shoulder blades. His whole body trembled again- both from little aftershocks and the fact that he was nearing his limit on holding this form.
 “Alright?” you snorted. “Alright? Are you kidding me, Toshinori? I’m pretty sure that I’m not walking out of here. At least… not in a straight line.”
 Your laughter was infectious and he joined in, the pair of you giggling like teenagers, exhausted and spent and covered in various fluids. You would have been content to lay there like that with him at home, keeping him inside you while you played with his hair and gave him massive heart eyes. But it was quickly dawning on the both of you that hanging around in the open like this any longer was definitely going to get you caught.
 Toshi groaned when he pulled out of you and stood up straight, rubbing his back. He grumbled something under his breath about ‘getting old’ and you managed to lift your head to look at him- incredulous.
 “Yeah, I’m pretty sure old guys don’t fuck like you do baby,” you informed him smugly, absolutely loving the way his cheeks flushed as though he hadn’t been choking you and calling himself ‘daddy’ not five minutes before. This man was a study in fucking opposites sometimes and it only endeared him to you even more.
 He groaned when he twisted from side to side and you took pity on him, despite not being able to move much yourself.
 “Babe, why don’t you just change back now? You have to be exhausted.”
 He shot you a grateful look and then did just that- a blast of air and smoke and there he was in all of his skinny glory- dwarfed in a suit that was now ten times too big for him. Considering that his pants were still splayed open at the top, gravity dictated that they almost immediately fall down to his ankles.
 “Damn,” he huffed and glared down at them, unamused at both that and your resulting laughter.
 “There’s no way I can bend down for those,” he said, face absolutely deadpan and despite the ache in your whole damn body, you were wracked with giggles as he stared forlornly at his pants. He glanced over at you, content to lay there for a moment longer while he worked out his dilemma. “Little help?”
 “Oh, Daddy, there’s no hope of that. My legs are done. Anyone could walk in right now and I wouldn’t give a shit,” you explained, raising the only part of you that wasn’t all fucked out. You lifted your head and grinned at him- his expression amused and exasperated in equal measure. “Besides, I need to get my breath back.”
 He laughed, short and sharp and finally found the energy to bend at the waist and pull his pants up. He had to tighten the belt as much as he possibly could to make them stay put, but eventually they complied and he wandered over to you- holding your panties and jeans in one hand.
 He dangled them over your head and you managed a lazy grab, giggling again as he pulled them out of your reach.
 Then his eyes flickered down to your throat and he frowned suddenly, reaching out to rub gently over the redness he’d left behind. You were still quite content to sag back against the desk, knowing that when you moved at last it would mean cleaning up the mess you had both made of the hall.
 “Are you sure you’re okay? I know you like being choked sweetheart but I’m always worried that I overdo it,” he said, concerned as he always was after a particularly intense session. Your expression softened at the way he worried, feeling a wave of affection for him.
 You really wouldn’t have him any other way. No one worried about you like he did.
 You caught his hand in yours and brought it to your lips to kiss his palm.
 “I loved it and I love you and I had a great time.”
 His expression changed in an instant, a winning smile gracing his skinny features and you returned it without even thinking.
 “Love you too sweetheart,” he responded softly and you gave his hand one last kiss before finally summoning the energy to stand at long last. Using the desk behind you for support, you tiredly shimmied back into your pants while your boyfriend went about gathering the papers that had been strewn around the floor.
 It was only when you glanced at him after a moment, did it dawn on you what he was holding. What you’d almost been fucked on top of.
 The exam papers.
 The now messy, out of order, exam papers.
 Hell Week had struck again and when Toshinori caught your eye, he immediately paused in what he was doing to look down at the papers in his hand too.
 “Oh,” he said after a long, long moment of staring at them blankly. “Well fuck.”
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notnctu · 3 years
Text
haechan: the cocky | vol 2
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━ welcome home to the housemating smut series :)
☆ click the link above to read background info about this housemate!
☆ GENRE: smut, pwp ☆ DETAILS: fem!reader, college!au, housemate!au ☆ WARNINGS: explicit language, dirty talking, nicknames, dom!hyuck, penetration, oral (giving & receiving), slight degradation?, mentions of exhibitionist kink? ☆ WC: 3.6k  ☆ SYNOPSIS: after receiving haechan’s text messages, you hurry up to his room and the sexual tension is thicker than you can ever imagine. 
☆ AUTHORS NOTE: read vol 1 here if u havent already :) theres no plot yall its just smut,, this one a filthy one ha ha skjdhfgieas
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When you enter Haechan’s room, his back faces you as he sits comfortably in his expensive gaming chair, clicking furiously at his mouse and practically abusing the poor device. “Why are you so worked up?” Your voice causes him to perk up, removing an ear from his headset. 
“Mark fucking sucks at this game.” Haechan rolls his eyes as he speaks directly into his mic and Mark’s tiny muffled voice shouts back at him. 
Leaning into Haechan’s face, his eyes leave his monitor momentarily to intently watch your actions. Your fingers grab hold of the built in mic and speaking lowly, you greet the other boy through the receiver. “Hi Mark.”
Haechan raises an eyebrow at your seductive tone and the happy smirk on your face when you hear Mark stammer back a faint, “h-hello, y/n.” 
“Mark, I gotta go.” Before even letting Mark protest and throw a fit, he’s hanging up the call and forfeiting his winning streak to finally finish what you two had started. You’re laying on Haechan’s bed with eyes that eat him right up, a look of lust and desire. 
His gaze bounces between the open door and the way your thin shirt does absolutely nothing to hide how erect your nipples have become. His signature face of disbelief: tongue in cheek and rolling his eyes, paired with a small scoff. 
“What? Are you cold or something?” He snickers, getting up to close the door.
“No... I’m just..” Propping up on your elbows, you glance briefly down at your shirt and then, away at the ground shamelessly. 
“Aroused? Turned on?” Haechan taunts as he leans down to hover above you, his fingers toying with the ends of the thin fabric. As much as you’re trying to avoid eye contact, he doesn’t allow for you to shy away for long.
“Maybe.” You gulp the pooling spit in the back of your throat, the tension rising in the room. “I came upstairs like you told me too.” Pouting, he finally has you fixated on him with a thumb on your chin. 
Making eye contact with him is not only incredibly intimate, but there is something mesmerizing and comforting in the way Haechan looks at you. “Right, my good girl did what she was told. How much longer can she keep that up?” His whisper is hot against your skin, but he doesn’t lean in any more. 
“Don’t test me, Hyuck.” You snap back gently, crossing your arms across your chest and almost immediately, Haechan pushes you lightly onto the bed. You yelp at the boldness, knowing that your bratty side might have edged him on.
“Hyuck....? Baby, we haven’t even started yet.” He smirks, and you wish for nothing more than to wipe it off his face. He has the absolute confidence to play with you all night if he wanted to. Cocky motherfucker. 
“Do something, please.” The whine in your voice catches his attention, only fueling his ego more than it has already inflated. 
“What does my pretty baby want me to do?” Haechan has the full audacity to sit back in his chair, legs spread wide and arms resting behind his head. He’s left you on the bed practically untouched, yet the moment you sit up, a small pool of wetness rushes in your panties.
He’s done nothing, but your body reacts to him too strongly for you to admit. “I want you to give me a kiss.” You mumble.
However, Haechan leaves no room for a pause. “Speak up.” His voice is low and dark as he watches you squirm in your shorts, your legs rubbing together for some friction. He just loves how needy he can get you to be.
“Give me a kiss.” A little louder this time, all the while being mindful at how thin the walls are. Haechan patiently waits for you to finish your beg, “please.”
He pats his lap for you to come sit, then opens his arms to invite you into his embrace. Your legs fall on either side of his thighs and his hands rests on your waist. Haechan peers up at the pout that hasn’t left your face and gently smiles. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
There’s a sense of rivalry when he uses that nickname, holding less of a soft implication than when he calls you baby. “You’re taking forever.” You groan, rocking against him with a frustrated whine.
However, he holds you steady by your hips and chuckles mockingly, “it wouldn’t be fun if I just gave it to you. I’m giving you more of an experience to remember the next time you want to rub one out.”
“Trust me, I’ll be fast forwarding these parts in my brain.” Rolling your eyes, your hands find themselves lightly on his chest. He feels rather solid through his black shirt, “you’ve been bulking up?”
“Yeah. Can you tell? Johnny has been waking my ass up early in the morning to go to the gym with him because Jaehyun has class.” Haechan presses you up against his torso and you’re impressed at how sturdy he feels.
“So that’s why we have two jugs of protein powder taking up counter space. Doyoung and I were concerned at how much the other two were consuming, but I guess the portion includes you now.” Your hands wrap around his neck to pull him unbelievably closer, the tips of your noses touching now.
Haechan stares at you with hooded eyes and breath mixing with your own. “What does it taste like?” Your question seems to hold a sexual innuendo, or it could be the tension in the air as you both try your hardest from devouring each other’s lips right then and there.
“Mmh, tastes like shit. Rather taste something else instead.” Haechan licks his lips and tilts his head only slightly. His mind is clouded with lustful, heavy thoughts of feeling your plushy lips against his own. And the possible taste of your tongue lapping with his brings him much excitement as well. 
“Should I try some?” The power has slightly shifted into your hands as Haechan seems to be in a trance from your proximity and sensual drop in tone. But you’re both wrapped up in each other’s scent of shampoo and it’s enough to drive you both hungry for one another. 
“Want your lips around something else.” His thumb pulls your bottom lip down just gently before slipping it into your open mouth. Your tongue circles his finger, slowly sucking to mimic the feeling of his cock. It sends tingles down to your lower abdomen and a small moan erupts from the back of Haechan’s throat. 
Something pokes at your inner thigh and without needing to look down, you already know how turned on Haechan has gotten. He won’t be able to wait it out anymore. “So pretty.” Haechan coos as he drops his finger from your lips. “Do you still want your kiss, baby?” 
“Of course.” You lean in thinking that Haechan is going to finally give you a good smooch on the lips, but he picks you up and tosses you onto the bed. He’s discarding your shorts and underwear, peeling it off your legs and tossing it somewhere in a corner. 
He spreads your legs wide open, “holy fuck, you’re dripping.” And you’re so close to telling him to stop exaggerating until he gathers slick from your hole and it unleashes a small waterfall cascading onto the bed sheets. “Since when were you this easily aroused?” 
Before you can retaliate, Haechan softly kisses your clit and slowly licks a long strip up your cunt. You arch into him, his lips pressing against you just a bit harder than the first time. Eyes are locked in on yours as he flicks delicate licks at your bundle of nerves. “Good girls get the best kinds of kisses.” 
He will never be able to get enough of your taste or your legs squirming at the jolts of pleasure that run down them. The fact that stands is that Haechan inexplicably loves pleasuring women and performing cunnilingus, that’s undeniable. But there’s something very special about the way your body reacts to his smallest gestures and sensual words, so responsive and almost like, your body knows how much it wants him. 
And if you two hadn’t been so cordial and polite about living with each other in the beginning and considerate of your other housemates, he would’ve fucked you a long time ago. It always felt as if Haechan was walking on thorns around you, making sure he didn’t cross the lines of making you feel uncomfortable. 
Nonetheless, your pajama shorts do a terrible job at covering you up or the small moments when your shirt would ride up your stomach, he always found his stares to linger. And not to mention, all the moments he has walked by to catch a glimpse of you masturbating. Truthfully, he’d been masturbating to the thought of you too and only to find out that you shared the same interest in him. 
You suppress your moans with your hand, afraid to risk the chance of getting caught by your other housemates. Nevertheless, your muffled moans encourage him to lick harder, building a quick rhythm. “Hyuck, please fuck me.” 
It’s agonizing the more he edges you closer to your release. Haechan is addicted to lapping your endless flow of juices that he almost chooses to ignore your breathless plea. He lets go and the knot of pleasure in your stomach dissipates for the time being, your chest rising and falling rapidly to catch your breath.
“I thought you lost your ability to speak for a second.” Haechan doesn’t mean it as a joking statement, it’s meant to instill slight humiliation in you and with a bit of a teasing tone in his darkness.
You don’t take his words to heart, “I can speak and I know what I want.” Your voice is brighter than before, until Haechan’s grin turns mischievous and he’s plotting his next few words carefully. 
“Use your smart words and tell me what you want then.” Taking off his clothes, his shaft slaps against his stomach with an angry red tip leaking precum.
The sight of his dick has you clenching around nothing and it’s obvious where your focus has shifted to. You mindlessly take off your shirt, “for a computer science major, you sure like words a lot.” 
“For someone who’s ruining my sheets, you sure like to verbally under compensate how much you want me.” Haechan rubs his tip at your entrance to gather lubrication, a small whine escapes his lips as he’s trying his best to hold back from ramming into your wet cunt.
“Hyuck, please. I want you to fuck me speechless.” A sparkle catches in his eye as he’s gleaming at how the dirty words spill from your pretty mouth. Pulling you up, he holds your head steady and lightly taps your lips with his tip.
“Speechless? I guess you won’t be able to whine with my dick in your mouth.” And slowly, you invite his hot shaft into your warmth and the saltiness hits your palette. A long string of profanities fill the air when you lick the underside of his tip and hollow your cheeks to suck more of him.
“Do you think you can take the whole thing?” He moans and it shocks you how raspy his voice suddenly got. His hand is rests on the back of your head lightly, patting and smoothing your hair lovingly. If it isn’t for that lost lustful look in his eyes that represent an innocent curiosity, you wouldn’t have awarded his request. 
Opening your throat, he slowly guides you further down his length. Haechan’s reactions are ungodly satisfying as he throws his head back toward the ceiling and instantly tightens his grip in your hair. 
“Fuck, fuck. Okay, I’m done messing around.” He manages to chuckle playfully, pulling you off his dick as a string of saliva draws from the disconnect. Pulling you by your hair, he tilts your head upward at him and he leans down to kiss you: open mouth, tongues lapping, spit mixing.
The kiss ignites a flame in your chest being that it’s probably one of the hottest kisses you’ve ever experienced. Haechan’s dominance is caring, yet strong enough to remind you just how rough he has the ability to be. 
“Lay on your side.” You do as you’re told as Haechan unravels a condom to slip on. A feeling of excitement bubbles up in your core, you’re finally getting fucked. It’s not the first time you and Haechan have done penetration, but it’s definitely not enough times to satisfy your lust for him.
With your body facing the door, Haechan lays down behind you, a hand on your hip to press your ass against his shaft. “How cute. We’re spooning.” He taunts menacingly and reaching around to rub your swollen clit. 
You yelp and Haechan covers your mouth instantly. You’re a moaning mess in his hands as his fingers work magic stimulation down below. Every squirm has you bumping your ass up into his hard on. 
Just as his tip enters your wet hole, a knock on the door has you both halting your movements. Your heart is racing at the interruption and it’s not going to look too good with Haechan’s dick barely up your cunt and hand hovering over your clit. There will be no lie that can get you two out of this naked situation.
“Haechan, can I borrow your speaker?” It’s the voice of Jaemin. Of all the times that he actually comes home, you’re midway having sex with Haechan. 
It doesn’t seem to bother Haechan though, maybe a bit agitated that someone interrupted the tension, but overall he doesn’t seem phased. Then, you remember all the times you’ve knocked on the other boys’ doors during their hookups and it’s gotten to the point that no one really cares. “For what!?” 
“To use in the shower.” A jiggle on the doorknob panics you, but Haechan is lifting your leg in the air and enters you fully without a warning. You bite back a moan as Haechan buries his face into your neck. The initial stretch from his girth stings with pleasure and you relax into him when you adjust to his size. “Why is your door locked?” 
“Fuck, is this making you more wet?” Haechan whispers lowly into your ear and a smile grows against your skin.
“Shut up.” You mumble, clenching around him every time Jaemin tries to open the door. He starts moving his hips into you, long thrust that jolt your body every time he enters. 
Haechan laughs, “it’s in the bathroom already, leave me alone! I’m with someone.” He’s looking down at your eyes rolling to the back of your head and the tight grip you have on the sheets. You feel all of him, his cock fills you up to the brim, grazing upon your sweet spot. 
Jaemin scoffs on the other side, “okay. Use protection, kids.” And his shadow disappears from under the door. Haechan removes his hand and his hot moans fill your ears.
“No wonder why you leave the door fucking open. You want us to see you, don’t you?” His hips ram harder into your pussy, rougher and faster than before. The soreness begins to occupy your lower regions from how much Haechan stretches you. His dirty words aid you closer to your release. “Imagine if I didn’t lock the door and Jaemin saw me balls deep in you. You’d like that, huh? What a slut.” 
Your legs feel like jelly as a familiar exhilaration surges through your limbs. “Speechless now, aren’t you?” Haechan smirks and drops your leg. Hands hold you by your waist as he bottoms out, his balls slapping your thigh slightly. Once he’s nestled in deep, he starts rubbing circles on your clit once again and you’re squeezing around him so well that he doesn’t need to move. 
The added sensation brings you to your edge, along with the feeling of fullness. Without a fail, he always makes sure he takes care of you first. “I’m gon-- cum.” Words are jumbled in your scattered, empty brain. The release is on the tip of your tongue, the tips of your toes, Haechan’s rhythm on your bud doesn’t falter.
“Cum on my dick, baby. I want to feel you lose control.” His final encouragement leads you to your demise as your pussy clenches around him sporadically and your legs shaking from the pleasure. But it doesn’t stop, Haechan starts fucking you through your orgasm, so fast that it almost has you crying out of the intensity. His nails dig into your skin. 
“Oh-- shit! Hyuck, I--” Haechan slams your hips down to match his and you’re holding onto the sheets for your life. The toe curling pleasure overwhelms you and you can’t tell, but you’re cumming again. It just never seems to stop.
With a last grunt and full thrust, you feel his dick pumping inside your walls. He kisses your shoulder tenderly and smooths over the moon crescents he left, “shit. I’m sorry for calling you out like that.”
“It’s fine. It was hot.” He pulls out and an emptiness disappoints you. Turning around to face him, you latch on and give him the biggest hug. “But I really just am forgetful! I don’t leave it open on purpose....”
“Baby, you say that, but do you also forget that you live with five other horny men?” He kisses your temples and sits you both up.
“That’s why I do it when you guys aren’t home.” Getting up, you start putting on Haechan’s shirt and slipping on your panties. “Do you think Jaem is done showering?”
“Probably, that guy uses 2 in 1 shampoo and body wash so he just lathers and rinses.” Haechan ties the condom and tosses it into the trash can. He slips on a pair of fresh briefs and starts removing his soiled bed sheets. “Come back and help me make my bed when you’re done.” 
Nodding, you slyly walk out of Haechan’s room. You turn the knob as quietly as you can and shut the door softly. When you spin around, Jaemin walks down the hall with a towel around his naked shoulders and his black hair wet from his shower. His toned body is glistening with droplets as his sweatpants hang low on his hips and the waistband of his underwear peek out. 
You’re so distracted by his appearance that you don’t realize he’s caught you leaving Haechan’s room. “Is that Haechan’s shirt?” He quizzes you, a smirk twitching his lips automatically at your doe eyed expression. “And are you not wearing pants, y/n?” 
“I see you’re done with your shower.” You say quickly and you dash away to the bathroom. The moment you shut the door, you’re surprised by a random girl on the toilet.
“Sorry!” You both yell, covering your eyes at the sudden intrusion on both ends. 
“I didn’t realize there wasn’t a lock on the door.” She says and you turn to face the door to give her some privacy.
“Yeah, it’s been broken for awhile now. We usually just put a sticky note on the door to show that it’s preoccupied.” You don’t even question who she is, denoting that it’s either Jaehyun or Johnny’s lady friend. “I’ll just wait outside.” 
“Wait, do you live with Johnny?” She asks and truthfully, you’re not ready to go back outside in any chance that you’ll bump into Jaemin again. The bathroom is where you intended to hide until enough time is passed, while also doing your business. 
“Yeah. We’re housemates.” 
“Ah, that’s comforting to know that there’s another girl here. I thought it was just a house of guys, so I was a bit worried coming over.” Her voice sounds reassured and you’re exhaling out all the anxious air you had pent up since seeing Jaemin.
“That’s good. Men, am I right?” You try laughing to lighten the mood and surprisingly through the steamy suffocation, she giggles back. 
“Yeah, I mean, I’ve never seen so many bottles of AXE body spray in one bathroom.” Living in a house full of men, you realize you slightly miss the bathroom talks with your girl friends. 
“Look in the tub, there are four bottles of men body wash, yet they always use mine! It’s a hoax.” You announce excitedly, despite still facing the door.
“I have the same one! I fucking knew Johnny smelled like white strawberries and mint, but I couldn’t tell if the scent was from me or him.” 
Maybe sometimes, it isn’t so bad living with a group of attractive men. You get to laugh with their hookups in the bathroom! And before you know it, Johnny is knocking on the bathroom door to the fit of giggles and questioning why there are two voices. 
“I thought you had left without saying goodbye.” He says.
“Damn, the sex was that bad.” You joke and Johnny fakes a laugh through the door.
“Let me know if Haechan is any better, y/n.” You gasp at his statement, but don’t respond. The flushing of the toilet and the sink running being the only noises in the room. You’re stunned. Knowing Jaemin’s big mouth, he can’t keep a secret to save his life.
“It’s nice meeting you, y/n.” Johnny’s hookup gives you a warming hug before leaving and when she opens the door to join him, you give Johnny the middle finger as your form of response. 
“Nice meeting you too!” You yell back to her and shut the door to finally do your business. 
Great, now everyone knows you fucked your housemate. 
2K notes · View notes
luminnara · 3 years
Text
It’s Been a Long, Long Time | Ch 7 18+ NSFW
18+ ONLY PLEASE
Warnings: nsfw, sexy sex, abo, knotting
Part 6 | part 7 | part 8
Tags:  @kyrah-williams williams @oceanmermaidwitch @shawnie--jo @super-cape @ferxaniti @namjoonwatcheshentai @fandomsstolemylife00 @youngblood199456 @nightlygiggless @darlingely @bluemoon-icecream @kaz11283 @jenjen8675309 @dollfacev8 @witchinpractice @mystical-b3ar r @sukeraa @momc95 @book-lover-2006
Bucky was still reeling from finally getting to hear her name. While the omega explored his apartment, he sank down onto his couch, his head buzzing with thoughts of her and him and his past life with HYDRA and how her name felt so, incredibly, impossibly right.
Amoretta.
It didn’t sound familiar to him, and he was pretty certain that he had never known it before. That made him feel a little bit better about everything, a little less guilty for almost completely forgetting about his omega. He hated how much less he remembered about her than she remembered about him, even if it wasn’t his fault that HYDRA scrambled his brain up so much all the time. No matter how many times he told himself that it was okay, that he was already doing his best, he couldn’t help but feel like he was a bad alpha.
But when she looked up at him with that smile and those eyes, so trusting and happy and comfortable...well, a lot of those negative thoughts flew out the window again.
“So you live here? Like, for real? Like, all the time?” She asked as she inspected his tv.
“Sure do.” He chuckled, sitting on the couch to watch her. “Whaddya think?”
She spun around in a little circle, taking it all. “It’s...perfect.”
Bucky smiled. “I’ll have to find some more blankets for you.”
Amoretta paused, looking at him curiously. “For what? I don’t think I could ever be cold with you around. You’re like a furnace.”
“Well...so you can...you know.” He was feeling stupid again. She wasn’t even thinking of nesting with him around, was she?
“So I can what?” She seemed puzzled.
“You know...make a nest…” he mumbled. “Isn’t that what omegas are s’posed to do? I’ve heard Bruce makes them…”
Realization dawned on her and her jaw dropped a little. “Oh. I haven’t gotten to nest in...um...ever?” She laughed. “HYDRA never let me.”
“...oh.” Bucky cleared his throat.
“But now that I’m thinking about it, that might be nice.” She glanced around the room, already looking for a good spot. “Maybe there? Ooh, no, I don’t want it out in the open, do I? Or maybe I do…”
“Hey, FRIDAY?” Bucky asked.
“Yes, Seargent Barnes?” The robot replied, her voice sounding from somewhere in the ceiling.
Amoretta jumped. “Can she see us right now?”
“I monitor everything in this tower,” Friday said. “Tony has designed me to run all necessary systems.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell someone we need more bedding. Blankets. Lots of ‘em.”
“I will let Miss Potts know right away, Seargent.”
“Thanks, FRIDAY.” He said, kicking his shoes off to rest his heels on the coffee table.
“Of course, Seargent Barnes.”
“So...you’re a Seargent?” Amoretta asked, making her way over to sit on the arm of the couch.
He stretched his arms back behind his head. “Seargent James Buchanan Barnes. World War II. I was with the 107th.”
“Is that how you know Steve?”
He smiled, his head. “Nah. We were always friends. Grew up in Brooklyn together.”
She sat up a little straighter. “Brooklyn?”
“Born ‘n raised, doll.”
“I wanna go!” She bounced down onto the cushion next to him, both hands pressing into his thigh as she suddenly leaned up towards his face. “Please?”
“Uh, sure.” He was a bit taken aback by her sudden movement, but he wasn’t complaining about how close she was now. “Mind tellin’ me why, though?”
“You mentioned it once.” She rubbed her nose against his neck, sighing happily as she scent of cloves filled her senses.
“...I did?”
“Mhm.” Amoretta snuggled up against his side, fitting next to him perfectly. “I don’t remember everything from back then, but I remember that.”
“What’d I say?” He brought on of his arms down to drape around her shoulders, hugging her closer.
“I think I asked you what kind of life we’d have outside of HYDRA.” She rested her cheek on his chest. “You told me we’d live in Brooklyn, in our own house. And…” she trailed off, blushing slightly.
“And what?” He asked, curious.
“You said we’d have lots of pups.” She chewed her lip, looking away from him in embarrassment. “It was probably just your rut talking, though, you know...i-if you don’t want that now, it makes sense. I mean, you’ve got this whole life now, and…”
She trailed off as she noticed that his chest was rumbling with a loud purr. When she finally brought her eyes back up to his face, she saw that he was watching her, features relaxed into a soft, thoughtful expression.
“Do...you want pups?” She asked, heart leaping hopefully.
“Always used to want a whole little family.” He pulled her up to straddle his lap. “Didn’t think I’d get the chance to, but now…hey, I never sired any for HYDRA, right?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Good.” He sounded relieved. “That’d be a fuckin’ nightmare.”
“They made sure my heat suppressants kept me infertile.” Amoretta said. “They didn’t have a program for breeding super soldiers ready yet.”
“Good.” He growled. “No pups of mine are ever gonna grow up in a place like that.”
She reached up, running her fingers through his hair. “You really want them now?”
“Course.” He pulled her forward, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his face against her scent gland. “Maybe not, like, now, now, but…with you? I do.”
Amoretta’s eyes widened, a happy little keen leaving her throat. “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that…”
Bucky tugged her back so he could face her. “I’m gonna court you properly. Do it right.”
“But you don’t need to—“
“I don’t care.” He interrupted. “I’m an old fashioned guy. I’m gonna court you.”
She grinned, a hand trailing down the side of his neck. “How old fashioned, exactly?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Too old fashioned to have a little fun?” Her hand slipped down to press against his chest.
His purr turned into a growl, his hands moving to hold her hips. “Doll, all you gotta do is ask…”
Amoretta brought her lips to his ear. “Will you fuck me, Bucky Barnes?”
It only took a moment before his lips were on hers. He was gentle, but he was hungry, devouring her in a kiss that left her breathless and would have made her knees weak had she been standing. With his hands slowly sliding down to her ass, Bucky was perfectly content to take his time; he wanted to feel her, inch by inch, until he had memorized every curve and dip of her body.
Her skin was so soft beneath his callouses. He nudged her sweater up a bit, his hands slipping underneath it to grab at her tits. She couldn’t help but let out a whine against his lips when he brushed a thumb over her nipple, her nails digging into his shoulders as she held him.
When he broke away from the kiss, he gave her lower lip a sharp bite. “Bed. Now.”
Amoretta practically launched herself towards his bedroom, scrambling onto the bed without a second thought. Bucky followed at a much slower pace, enjoying the view as she shed her clothing.
“Hey, maybe I wanted to do that,” he teased, crawling over her. His lips found her neck, his fangs scraping her skin.
“I-I wanted to make it easier for you,” she gasped, back arching as he gave her scent gland a gentle bite.
“I wanna take my time with you, sweetheart.” His voice was husky and low, his breath hot against her throat. “I wanna enjoy every second…”
She sighed as he nipped and licked at her, her hands slipping under his shirt. Her fingers ran across his abs, feeling the way they flexed beneath her touch as he ground his hips into hers.
“You’re overdressed,” She said, tugging at his hem. “Let me see you.”
Bucky broke away from her neck and grabbed his shirt, shucking it off and tossing it behind him. “Better?”
“Much,” She hummed, taking in the sight of his naked torso.
“Good.” He took hold of her hips, leaving a trail of kisses behind as he made his way down to her pussy. “God, you smell fucking amazing…”
Amoretta trilled happily. “So do y—oh my god…”
His tongue was already lapping at her. She couldn’t remember anyone ever eating her out before, but Bucky seemed determined to make up for lost time. He acted like he was starving, sucking and nipping at her clit while he sank a finger inside of her.
Her hips bucked against him, his vibranium hand holding her down while his human hand played with her. She was already soaked, slick running down her thighs, and her scent was driving him wild.
“Fuck, I want you…” he growled, adding a second finger. “So wet, so willing…and you smell so delicious….” He inhaled slow and deep, savoring it. “I think I’ve missed this…”
“D-do you actually remember all the t-times you rutted with me?” Her voice hitched with little gasps as he stroked her inner walls.
“Yes and no.” He admitted, leaning his cheek on her thigh and looking up at her. “But I know this scent…”
“What scent—ah!” She bit her lip as he crooked his fingers a few times, warmth mounting in her belly. “K-keep going, I’m—FUCK!”
She shuddered as an orgasm rolled through her, electricity tingling in her limbs.
“The scent of my omega, all drippin’ wet, just for me.” He pulled his fingers away, licking them clean. “I wanna fuck you, doll…”
“Please,” she whimpered, scooting back up toward the pillows as Bucky stood.
Amoretta’s eyes were glued to his hands as they unbuckled his belt, his movements quick and determined. He was tired of waiting around. He wanted her now.
As he shoved his pants down off of his hips, she bit her lip again, rubbing her thighs together. She could remember how good he felt inside her, and as she thought about the way he always used to snap his hips into hers, she felt another trail of slick running down her legs.
At the sight of his cock, she was practically a waterfall.
Before he could get back to her, Amoretta was flipping over onto her hands and knees, presenting herself for him with her ass up in the air. She peeked back over her shoulder at him, watching as froze and then stiffened, a low, impossibly loud growl rumbling in his chest.
“Good girl,” he praised her, his cock already rock hard as he crawled across the bed towards her.
Amoretta gave a little wiggle, trying to convince him to hurry up. When his hands grabbed her hips and jerked her back against him, she squealed in surprise, the sound melting into a moan as he rubbed his cock against her.
“Please,” she whined. “Please, please just fuck me, Alpha, I need it…”
“How bad?” He leaned over her, nipping at her shoulder.
“S-so bad, please, just—“
She interrupted herself with another moan, her hands clutching at the sheets as Bucky finally gave her what she was craving so badly.
He pressed himself into her slowly at first, waiting to feel some resistance. She was so soft and warm that he almost came then and there, his teeth sinking into her shoulder as he forced his hips to still. Fuck, how could someone feel so good? Her pussy felt perfect around him, gently squeezing his cock as he pulled back out and then thrusted back in, already balls deep inside her. He could tell why he had liked her so much during his ruts, but he had no idea how he could have managed to fuck her for more than thirty seconds during one.
When he started moving again, Amoretta turned into putty. She was absolutely melting, angling her hips so that he could sink in deeper and deeper, slick running down her thighs.
“You like my cock, baby?” He asked, voice muffled by her neck as he dragged his lips over her skin. He wanted to be as close to her as possible, and he didn’t care if that meant both of them being a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. He just wanted her.
“Y-yes, Alpha,” she gasped, slowly sliding down until her chest was squished against the bed. He felt even better than she remembered, his cock rubbing against every single perfect spot inside of her. He was stretching her out comfortably, her slick providing more than enough lube to ensure that his size could never hurt her.
Fuck, he was perfect. He was made for her. They were made for each other.
Bucky was pressed against her back, shielding her with his entire body. He didn’t want anyone else to see his omega. The sight of her there, beneath him, taking his cock so well was for him and him alone, and he was going to make sure it stayed that way.
“Want me to fill you up?” He asked, licking her scent gland.
“Y-yes please,” she moaned, leaning her head back for him.
“Want me to breed you, over ‘n over, ‘til you’re full of pups?” He bit at her jaw.
“Yes!” She cried, whines and trills all flooding from her throat in a symphony of needy sounds.
“Say my name,” he panted, his knot already beginning to swell.
“B-Bucky,” she moaned as she felt it catch on her. Fuck, she had forgotten how good it felt to be stretched and feel it filling her.
He let go of her hips, his hand finding hers. “No, my real name…”
“J-James,” she gasped, intertwining their fingers together. “James…please knot me...”
That was it.
Hearing her gasping and moaning his name sent him over the edge, and before he could stop himself, he was exploding inside of her. He snarled, biting her shoulder again as he held her down, his knot locking him in place as he pressed his hips forward.
Amoretta sighed happily at the feeling, relaxing as Bucky’s weight fell onto her. He was panting hard, trying to catch his breath.
“Fuck,” he sighed, kissing the already-healing bite marks on her shoulder. “Sorry ‘bout the bites.”
Amoretta grinned at him as he helped her turn onto her side. “I like your bites.”
“Oh yeah?” He pulled her up against his chest, settling in to wait for his knot to go down once more. “I’ll remember that.”
“Super soldier, remember? Built to withstand you at your roughest.” She snuggled back.
“Guess I’ve got something to thank HYDRA for, after all.” He chuckled, drawing lazy circles on her hip. “You didn’t cum when I was inside you, did you?”
“No, but that’s fine.” She shrugged. “I did before.”
“That’s not enough,” he growled. “If my knot wasn’t so swollen right now, I’d be fucking you until your legs shake.”
“Is that a promise, Sergeant?” She asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“It is.”
“Well, then…” she held his jaw in her hand, leaning up to whisper in his ear. “I can’t wait for your knot to go down.”
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little-spoiled-brat · 3 years
Note
MAXY MAX‼️ MAXENNNEEEE‼️
Can you do 4 levi x reader for the 100 followers event😩🤲🏼
Levi asks his pregnant wife to sit on his face.
She's wary about because if he hadn't noticed already, she's carrying an extra few pounds.
But he's not worried about it, he just wants to suck on her clit while her stomach is in his hands😌✋ extra points if he feels the baby kick🙂
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WRITING PROMPT # 30:
"taking my cock so well"
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pairing: levi x reader - nsfw, minors dni
cw: facesitting, oral f receiving, mentions of breeding and unprotected sex
author’s note: when you woke up from a 5 hour nap and feeling energized to write smut😂
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- baby kicks -
for the last seven months, you’ve gotten a tad heavier by a few pounds because of the ever growing baby inside of you — you didn’t mind though, waking up everyday to the feeling of your strong and healthy baby kicking your stomach. he has gotten quite active at that recently.
“oh!” you chimed, putting your hand on your stomach as the baby kicked repeatedly. levi’s head snapped towards you from his desk and lifted an eyebrow.
“he’s awake” you said to your husband, feeling the baby kick again, “and active too”
the second levi hears that the baby was kicking, he stood up from his chair and went over to you on your shared bed. he laid down next to you, putting his hand on your stomach.
“here” you said, putting his hand over to the area the baby kept kicking. you waited a bit until he kicked again.
“holy shit. oi, smaller brat, don’t kick your mother too hard like that” levi said, kissing your stomach after feeling how hard the baby kicks at you everyday. you smiled, watching him kiss your stomach and whisper sweet nothings to the child inside.
“we made that” levi breathed, never taking his hand off of your stomach to feel him kick again — he was as obsessed as you at feeling him kick.
“yeah, we did” you said softly, running your hand through his hair as he crawled up a bit and attached his lips with yours.
the kiss slowly turned heated when levi swiped his tongue at your bottom lip, reclaiming the territory that was already his. you moaned lightly, feeling his tongue explore every inch of your mouth.
levi’s hand slowly made it’s way to your thighs, lightly rubbing the inside of it before reaching your clothed clit. you gasped at the contact, feeling sensitive there as the both of you hadn’t had sex in a good few months.
“levi” you breathed, your eyes closing shut as he continued to rub your clothed clit. you moaned, gripping the sheets beside you.
“fuck, you’re already so wet” levi said, slipping a hand inside the shorts you were wearing and began circling his fingers on the sensitive bud.
“levi” you moaned, back slightly arching off the bed. levi lightly growled, unable to hold himself back anymore. he laid down beside you, patting at his chest as you took a few seconds to understand.
“levi, you know i’m carrying a few extra pounds” you said, not wanting to sit on him when you’re a bit heavier than before.
“i can take it, y/n” levi simply said as you searched for any sign of uncertainty in his eyes but found none. within seconds, clothes were discarded on the floor and you were straddling levi as he sucked on your clit.
“ah- fuck, levi” you moaned, throwing your head back and your eyes snapped shut from the pleasure you haven’t felt in a while.
levi wrapped his arms around your thighs, resting his hands on your stomach as he sucked and flicked at your sensitive bud.
“shit, i missed this” levi groaned, abusing your clit harder as the pleasure felt overwhelming and the knot in your lower stomach was becoming too much to handle.
“levi, i-i’m going to cum” you whimpered, holding onto his arms for support as the knot slowly started to unravel itself.
“cum on my mouth, brat. make a mess” levi commanded and you were sent flying over the edge. choked moans escaped your parted lips as you came on his mouth, legs shaking from the intense pleasure. levi smiled, feeling the baby kick underneath his hands while you were sent into blissful ecstasy.
”good girl, y/n” levi praised, rubbing your stomach and thighs as you came back down to earth. you got off of him and laid back down on the bed next to him.
”he was kicking when you came” levi mentioned, aligning himself with your entrance. “he was- oh fuck!”
you were abruptly interrupted by levi’s cock entering your tight pussy, stretching you oh so deliciously. you held onto his arms, whimpering at the pleasure he was causing.
“look at you, taking my cock so well” levi cooed, bottoming out on you as he leaned down and kissed your forehead. it left you breathless, the feeling of him inside of you was just pure satisfaction.
”fuck- please do something, i can’t take it anymore” you whimpered, slightly rolling your hips against his to get any kind of relief. levi chuckled at you neediness, kissing your forehead once more before slowly thrusting into you.
“you’re so tight” levi groaned, thrusting a bit faster. moans from the both of you filled the room, the sound of skin slapping against skin was sending you to the edge.
”you feel so good, brat. it‘s making me want to fuck another baby in you” levi groaned in your ear, shifting a bit to hit your g-spot with every thrust. you moaned at his words as it turned you on even more.
levi noticed the way his words affected you, a smug smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.
“do you want that? do you want me to fill you up to the brim and fuck another baby inside of you?” levi teased, cupping your cheek tenderly as you looked up at him with misty eyes.
“please” you breathed, looking at him with pleading eyes — longing to feel his cum inside of you, filling you up until it spills out of your tight hole.
“fuck, y/n. you’re making me go insane” levi moaned, thrusting into you harder to chase your highs. the knot in your stomach started forming again.
“levi- shit, you’re going to make me cum” you moaned, back arching off the bed as he slid his arm underneath you.
“are you going to cum for me? cum for me, y/n. make a mess on my cock” levi said and it sent you over the edge again. eyes shut, lips parted as sinful moans of curse words and his name left your throat.
“fuck, fuck, y/n!” levi moaned, emptying himself inside of you. spurts of his cum painting your velvet walls a pretty white. your legs were shaking when he pulled out, the sticky substance dripping from your hole.
you pulled levi down to kiss him, panting softly to catch your breaths. your foreheads resting on each other’s as you came down from your highs.
you were both suddenly interrupted by the baby kicking as you turned towards you stomach, levi’s body was gently pressed up against you and your stomach and you were sure that he felt that kick too.
“someone’s complaining” levi said, jokingly rolling his eyes and crawling down to reach your swollen tummy.
“i’m sorry, smaller brat. was mommy and daddy too loud?” levi whispered against your stomach as you sighed contentedly, running your hand through his hair.
“you can go back to sleep, mommy and i are gonna shut up now” levi said and you couldn’t help but chuckle as he kissed your stomach lovingly.
levi grabbed a warm wash cloth from the bathroom, cleaning the both of you up before helping you get dressed.
you laid in bed afterwards, levi’s arm around you and his hand was resting on your stomach protectively. you snuggled up next to him, slightly burying your face in the crook of your neck.
it was peaceful for a few minutes, the kicking in your stomach stopped — indicating that the baby must’ve fell asleep again. you were also falling into a state of unconsciousness when you were slightly woken up to yet another kick.
“shh, shh, smaller brat. your mommy is asleep, don’t kick too much or you might wake her and she needs her rest. i’m here, daddy’s here“ you heard levi whisper to your stomach as the kicking stopped, the baby somewhat listening to what his father told him.
a tired smile pulled at the corner of your lips as you were lulled to sleep by levi’s voice whispering sweet words and promises into the small life inside of you that you both created.
358 notes · View notes
takuyakistall · 3 years
Text
Don't get caught! | Riddle Rosehearts
Synopsis: While visiting Heartslabyul, you couldn't help but want to be a hedgehog after seeing the way Riddle is so fond of them and spoils them. But be careful for what you wish for! It might just come true.
Note: This was a request but the ask was too long so I just posted this on its own. I had fun writing this! It was a very cute idea and got carried away so this turned out longer than expected, I hope you enjoy it!
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You weren’t sure if this was a good idea or not. You weren’t even sure if this plan would work but Trey and the other Heartslabyul first years insisted that it was going to work—or at least, they’ll try to make it a success. You had absentmindedly let out a random thought a few days about your hair, saying how curious you are about how you would look like in different hair colours and hairstyles. Trey’s unique magic immediately came into your mind, Doodle Suit, and you couldn’t help but comment on how convenient it would be if it could temporarily overwrite your appearance.
You felt bad for asking Trey a favour so suddenly but much to your surprise, he indulged you and said that it isn’t any problem. Of course, you knew nothing about the way his magic works and if it really isn’t a problem to him. Though you decided to trust his words and agreed to meet up with him in the Heartslabyul Dorm during the weekends. Grim, Ace and Deuce tagged along behind you as you entered the mirror to the dorm. Ace and Deuce wanted to be a little bit extra (or so you thought) and picked you up from your dorm.
The smell of freshly painted roses was in the air as your eyes adjusted to the sudden sunlight. You relished in the sight of the rose hedges lined up and the half-painted roses hanging from them, a few drops of red paint dripping to the green grass. The empty cans of red paint here and there as you walked through the stone path to the main building. You caught a few glimpses of a few students scrambling to their feet as they picked up a brush and started painting the roses.
Behind them, you could barely make out a familiar shade of red and a heart-shaped ahoge. You quickly turned to Ace, trying to calm your racing heart.
“Wait, where are we headed?” You asked them as Grim climbed up your shoulder.
“To the lounge, or Trey’s room. Whatever works.” Ace answered half-heartedly as he pushed the door open and scanned the room full of students for the green-haired vice dorm leader.
“Nevermind, we’re going to his room.”
Saying the hallways of Heartslabyul was confusing is a big understatement. The twists and turns of the halls more or less made you dizzy just from looking at it. The fact that you don’t know the actual way to Trey’s room made it harder for you to navigate where you were headed to. Deuce grabbed the hem of your sleeve when you were about to make a turn, whispering to you about how his room was still up ahead. Grim had long gotten off your shoulder once he realized that he might get lost with you.
“Good grief… I don’t even have any idea about what colour I should go with first.” You sighed as you spotted a window that gave you a view of the rose maze. The countless green hedges adorned with white roses. Have they not painted this part of the maze yet? You paid it little mind as your eyes wandered to the small cage placed outside and the tiny creatures inside.
Hedgehogs?
Green, pink, and blue ones were all scattered and rolling around in the cage. You couldn’t get a good view but it seemed like someone was giving them food right now. You stopped in your tracks when you realized it was none other than the dorm leader who was doing it. He dusted his hands and stared at the small blobs of colour inside the cage. You couldn’t see it clearly but you saw him open his mouth as a small smile appeared on his face. You found it a bit cute—cute how caring he seems to get when it comes to them.
It must be nice to be a spoiled hedgehog under Riddle’s care huh…
You shook your head, the tips of your ears growing hotter as you told yourself off about having such weird thoughts. Your head snapped back to where Ace and Deuce originally were but only to find them out of sight.
You felt panic rise in your throat as you looked left and right, your eyes searching for the familiar figures. You scolded yourself, regretting getting distracted by that redhead you seem to be so enchanted by. You wandered around the hallway, the knot in your throat growing tighter as you prayed that you won’t get lost.
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“Geez! Just how big is this place?” You leaned against the window’s ledge as you let out a small pant. You’ve been walking around the dorm for what felt like hours now but you found yourself in the same place as before—by the window where you watched Riddle tend to the hedgehogs as you sighed.
“Um, excuse me…” The sudden voice behind your back made you jump in place a little. You quickly turned around and was met with a male student with brown hair. Your tense muscles visibly relaxed.
Finally! There was someone you could ask. You opened your mouth slightly to ask but before a single word could be formed—he asked you an unexpected question. He caught sight of the scene you were staring at before his involvement.
“Oh! Were you watching the Dorm Head?” Dense as a rock. The student didn’t think twice before asking this question, his eyes not registering the way your eyes widened slightly and your stance stiffened. You kept silent.
“Hehe, it seems like he’s taking care of the hedgehogs personally.” He mentioned, his voice laced with the faintest bit of admiration when he stared at the scene beside you. You tried to shrug it off but the curiosity inside you couldn’t stay silent any longer.
“...Is it anything special? Riddle taking care of them personally, I mean.”
“Eh? Well… no, not really. It’s just that he really likes them, so he tends to spoil them whenever he’s on duty.”
“Oh, is that so?” You tried looking the other way, trying to keep the nonchalant tone. But the moment you looked away—you could feel a small smile creeping up your face.
Cute.
You shook your head before you got carried away by any other thoughts and turned to the student. You need to do what you came here for!
“Oh, by the way, do you know how to get to Trey’s room?”
“Eh?”
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“What the hell took you so long!?” Ace was the first one to greet you with his fist meeting your head without any warning. You winced a bit, clutching your head and fought back with your words.
“It was your fault for walking too fast!”
“Hah? Didn’t we warn you to keep close to us?”
“You said nothing about that!”
“Oh.” Ace fell silent. The corner of his lips suddenly curling up, as if a realization struck him.
“Haha! Don’t mind, everyone makes mistakes right?” There was nothing stronger than the feeling of wanting to slap the grin off his face right now. Had it not been for Deuce trying to keep the peace between you, you weren’t sure if you could've held yourself back.
“Moving on,” Deuce placed a hand over your shoulder. “Trey-senpai’s room is just up ahead. Don’t lose sight of us again, alright?”
It was hard to navigate yourself around the dorm. If there was one crucial thing they hadn’t told you about the dorm, it was the fact that if you weren’t a Heartslabyul student or school faculty, you were bound to get lost amidst the twists and turns. But in their defense, they didn’t expect you to get distracted so easily. You nodded as you followed behind the duo once again.
After a minute or two, you found yourself face-to-face with Trey in front of his dorm room. That’s when you realized you haven’t thought about what colour you’d like after getting lost but your thoughts were cut off when Trey suddenly spoke up.
“Oh, you guys are here. You were a bit late, did you run into some trouble?” He asked as he urged you three (four if you’re counting Grim) into his room.
“(Y/N) got lost~!” Ace chirped in a singsong voice as he threw his arms back behind his head.
“Eh, really? Be more careful next time, you’re lucky you were found quickly—otherwise, who knows how long you’d be stuck there.” The closed-eyed smile on his face made his terrifying words seem normal. You wondered if there were previous cases that went way worse than what you went through. You let out a relieved sigh inside your head, thanking the student that found you.
“Then, let’s make this quick.” Trey guided you to a chair, dragging you gently by the wrist and made you sit there as Ace, Deuce, and Grim stood beside you. Their growing curiosity couldn’t be masked.
His instructions were clear enough. He said that you should try to paint an image inside your head. Envision what you would like to look like while closing your eyes and then he’ll activate his unique magic. He also mentioned that it would only last 24 hours or shorter if interfered with stronger magic and that he can revert the spell after a certain period if time just in case you wanted to remove it quicker.
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to paint an image of yourself you’d like to see.
“Ready? I’ll start now.”
You thought of your favourite colour, envisioning yourself with that certain hair colour. Wondering if Riddle would like it if he saw it. Oh, maybe if you were a (F/C) coloured hedgehog, he might find you cute!
“Doodle Suit!”
A small puff of smoke appeared just right after Trey finished his incantation. You felt a bit groggy and weird, was it supposed to feel like this? You opened your eyes, your vision adjusting to the sudden light until you realized the situation you were in. Everything seemed a hundred times bigger than they usually were and everyone inside the room seemed to have grown bigger. Everyone except you.
You felt so small.
“Eh!? Trey-senpai, where did they go?” The panic in Ace’s voice was unlike him. But Deuce was even more panicked than him, he thought that maybe they messed up and you disappeared for good. Grim was looking frantically everywhere.
You wanted to shout out. Tell them that you were still here but oddly enough, instead of a voice, a very weird sound came out of your mouth. The room froze when they heard it. Trey was the first one to spot you, a nervous chuckle slipping from his mouth as he held your small body up.
“It seems like your friend… turned into a hedgehog.”
Eh?
Eh!?
You messed up. Countless thoughts swirled rapidly at dangerous speeds as you thought about what could’ve gone wrong. You swore you did his instructions properly, you thought of what you wanted to look like and—
At the last minute, you thought about hedgehogs. That’s what went wrong. You wanted to bury your face into your hands but your new incredibly short four legs couldn’t even reach your face. This was a new level of embarrassment, you just wished that this was all a bad dream. You lied down flat on Trey’s palm, hiding your face from everyone as you heard Ace barely being able to contain his laughter.
“Pfft—” He clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to tell himself not to laugh but the situation made it hard for him to follow his instructions. Deuce, on the other hand, was crouching down while clutching his stomach—trying to keep his laughter as silent as possible. Grim had an indifferent expression before he approached you. He scaled your size compared to him and that’s when he lost it.
If you could speak, you would’ve told them to cut it out but much to your misfortune, you were left to make weird noises hedgehogs made. And if you were to make sounds like that, you were pretty much sure that they would laugh harder at you.
“Oh man, this is gold! I can’t believe you turned into a hedgehog.” Ace let out, that stupid grin on his face wider than ever.
“Though that does make me wonder how you managed to think about hedgehogs.” Deuce crossed his arms and pondered, finally calming down. Before he could dive deeper into his thoughts, Trey interjected.
“That isn’t important right now. We better think of what to do with your friend.”
“Trey-senpai, can’t you just overwrite it with your unique magic?” Deuce asked him.
“Unfortunately, it’s going to take a while before I can use my magic on them again. We need to put them somewhere safe for a while, can one of you keep them with you or do you know a place we can leave them?”
“Well, how about…”
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“Hup! Off you go!” You hopped off Ace’s hand into the small cage he pushed you into. You felt yourself tense up when you were surrounded by your fellow small creatures, wondering if it was alright for you to sneak in like this. Ace assured Deuce that no one would notice an extra hedgehog inside the cage and decided that it was alright for you to stay there.
You had your doubts and troubles about this course of action but what can you do except comply? Your fate was temporarily in their hands—you were completely helpless. You just stayed behind as you watched Ace, Deuce, and Grim fade into the distance as they walked further and further away.
You looked around, trying to find something you can entertain yourself with but only to be met with immeasurable disappointment when you found out there was absolutely nothing you could do except eat, drink, or sleep. What’s worse is that you don’t know how long you were going to be here. You lied down on your stomach as you stared into space, a sudden wave of tiredness came over you as you felt your eyelids close.
Perhaps a short nap wouldn’t hurt.
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You woke up to the heavy weight that rested over your body, you felt like you were being squeezed as a surge of panic took over you. You looked up to see that a green hedgehog was sleeping over you, it looked so comfortable that you felt bad for suddenly moving from your place. You couldn’t stay like this—you wanted to get out! You wished that Ace and Deuce just brought you with them even if it meant that they would probably get told off by Riddle for bringing out a hedgehog outside croquet matches.
“Hm? How strange… did I count correctly?” The sudden voice made you jump in your place, eyes darting everywhere to find out where it came from.
Wine red hair and slate grey eyes. There was no mistaking it—the voice belonged to none other than Riddle Rosehearts, the Dorm Leader of Heartslabyul. Confused, you wondered why he was still here. Didn’t his duty end a while ago? There was no reason for him to check up on the hedgehogs again!
“There’s an extra one?” His eyes shifted to you and you felt your blood run cold. How in the world did he know it was you out of everyone in the cage? You needed to think of something, quick. Who knows what he might do to you? Throw you out? Certainly, he wouldn’t do that… right?
“Don’t be scared. I won’t harm you, I promise.” Riddle’s gentle voice as he reassured you made you feel safe. You stared at his outstretched arm as a small smile appeared on his face and you couldn’t help but willingly hop into his palm. He brought you closer until you were on eye level with him. His grey eyes staring at you so intensely, you almost let out a squeak.
“Now then, we just have to find out who put you here.” He placed you on his shoulder and you felt the sudden panic sink in. You were in for a lot of trouble! You hadn’t expected Riddle to notice the extra hedgehog and you didn’t even expect him to come over in the first place. You cursed Ace and Deuce inside your head for leaving you there and expecting everything to sail smoothly.
If Riddle found out what happened, you were screwed. The best course of action you chose was to do your best to act like a normal hedgehog. That should be easy enough, right? Wrong! You didn’t know anything about how they acted and that fact alone made you declare this operation a failure.
Riddle walked away from the gardens and into the dorm building, your grip on his clothes tight because you were afraid of falling. Riddle felt the sudden shift on his shoulder and barely felt your claws ghosting over his clothes. He thought it was a bit strange, were you afraid of heights? But he paid it little to no mind as he continued walking and pushed open the door.
The students sitting in the common room suddenly stiffened up—they were first years and it was only natural that they were afraid of the strict Riddle Rosehearts. They stood up and greeted Riddle almost immediately, like soldiers.
"D-Dorm Leader!"
“Calm down, I’m not here to reprimand you or anything.” Riddle was irked at the way they visibly relaxed after saying that but he didn’t bother bringing it up. He scooted closer to them as he showed them the hedgehog on his shoulder.
“Do you know where this came from?”
Of course, the students could barely understand his question. They didn’t know the hedgehog was an extra head inside the cage and assumed that it was a normal hedgehog, so they answered:
“That’s a hedgehog, Riddle-senpai. It came from the cage they’re being kept in.”
“Of course I know that, I meant for this one specifically! It wasn’t here before.”
“M-Maybe it came from the forest and got lost?”
“It’s likely but how would it get inside the cage? That means a human probably put it in there.”
“Well… we don’t know.”
Riddle let out a sigh, trying to keep it together. It was going to be hard for him to find the culprit so he thought, just for a second, that maybe he should just let it stay inside the dorm. It wasn’t as if the world would end if he did, after all. But something deep inside his guts told him that he shouldn’t let go of this so easily. He dismissed the students and went to his room as he picked you up from his shoulder and into his palms.
“Where in the world did you come from…?” He brought you closer to his face and you felt like your heart was about to stop. His eyes widened as he made a sudden discovery. Magic? He felt the faintest bit of magic coming from you and that was enough to tell him that he should get to the bottom of this. But first—he needed an afternoon snack inside his room. After all, a queen should never make do without tea and snacks.
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There was nothing more relaxing than having his favourite blend of tea in the afternoon accompanied by little snacks and biscuits that were served in little platters and teacups adorned with rose designs. It was to be expected as he was stuck in a dorm that was founded by the Queen of Hearts, it wasn't as if Riddle minded though—in fact, he grew fond of it. Daintily, he picked up his fork and took a small piece of his strawberry tart before putting it inside his mouth. Relishing in the burst of flavours that bloomed inside his mouth before turning his gaze to the small creature crawling on the table.
If you were already nervous back then, you didn't know how much more nervous you are now. You felt bad for feeling like you're deceiving him but at the same time, it wasn't as if you had a choice at all! Pushed into this seemingly hopeless situation, you wondered what would happen if somehow you transformed back into your original body right now. You shook your head and made yourself stray away from those thoughts—they never tend to end well once you think about them.
You tried distracting yourself by looking around the table and a certain snack caught your eye. You slowly made your way to it, your little feet pitter-pattering against the wooden material. Strawberry shortcake. Surely you were a tiny bit hungry after everything that occurred and not once did you get the chance to sit down and eat since you refused to eat the same food the other hedgehogs in the cage ate. You couldn’t help but look longingly at the small platter.
Riddle stopped halfway when he was about to take another bite out of his tart as he caught sight of you. Now, he wasn’t well-versed in the language of hedgehogs but it didn’t take an idiot to realize that you were hungry. He was a sucker for the rules of the Queen of Hearts but he wasn’t heartless. There was no harm in feeding you a little bit of that cake, right?
“Hm,” he contemplated for a split second, “just one small piece, okay?”
He took a small piece with his fork and nudged it towards you, expecting you to eat it. It took you a few seconds to understand what’s going on. Riddle, of all people, was feeding you. You didn’t know if you should be happy or not since you were in your hedgehog form but once you thought about it—didn’t you say earlier that it must be nice being a hedgehog spoiled by Riddle? Did the Great Seven up above hear you and decided to grant your wish?
Nonetheless, you took this as an opportunity. Who knows when you’ll get this close to Riddle ever again. You tasted the cake, eyes lighting up as you felt the sweetness of the frosting spread inside your mouth. You quickly took another bite until you finished everything with a content look. Riddle propped his elbow against the table and rested his chin on the center of his palm, looking at you with gentle eyes.
"...Somehow you remind me of a certain person." Riddle suddenly spoke up, his tone wary as he squinted at your figure. Your actions suddenly became more languid as you realized that perhaps the root of his suspicion was because of your erratic movements.
Surely he doesn't know it's me, right…!?
"(Y/N)," you froze up. "You remind me of them for some reason."
You went through the possible list of reasons how he came to that conclusion inside your head as you felt your heartbeat beat faster. For some reason, this whole scenario felt like it came straight out of a horror film. Out of all the names he could’ve said, he chose to say yours. The panic subsided as you suddenly grew curious about what exactly reminded him of you.
There was the slightest, smallest, unlikely chance that it was because he liked you but that was too far-fetched, right? Your imagination was going wild and unknowingly, you let out a small squeak. Riddle chuckled at the sudden sound, the corners of his lips tugging up into a smile. He stopped to think for a moment, he was alone, right? There was no one else in the room but the hedgehog and him, right? He took a deep breath.
“Speaking of them, something has been on my mind right lately… and it’s bothering me to no end.” He started, a downcast expression was on his face and you couldn’t help but worry. Did you perhaps do something to upset him? The thought itself made you panic inside. You couldn’t help but scoot away from him a little.
“I think I like them.”
What.
WHAT!?
You wondered if turning into a hedgehog made your hearing worsen or Riddle just made a mistake. There was no way what you heard was right, right? But, even then, Riddle had a slightest tint of pink spreading on his face as he looked down in slight embarrassment. It was hard to believe that he didn’t mean it or that he made a mistake in what he said. You felt your heart explode at the sudden realization and discovery.
“But the problem is that I think they’re avoiding me. I’m a bit afraid that they don’t like me,” Riddle sighed, “not a lot of people like me after all.”
“That’s not true!” is what you wanted to say had it not been for the fact that you can’t. But as they always say—actions speak louder than words. You scooted closer to his hand on the table and placed one of your front paws over his hand, hoping that he would take it as a form of reassurance. His eyes widened slightly at the sudden gesture, surprised that maybe the hedgehog understood his feelings and tried comforting him.
“Eh, you’re full of surprises aren’t you? Did you actually understand what I said?”
Without thinking it through, you nodded.
“Ah-! You really do… that’s strange. But anyway, thank you for your reassurance. Maybe one day I’ll get the chance to confess b-but that’s not important right now, I need to find out where you came from.” Riddle urged you to go to the palm of his hand and you complied with no complaints. He lifted you until you were at eye-level with him.
“Let’s continue looking, shall we?” Before he let you go, he placed a kiss on your head as a sign of endearment. You swore you were about to let out another squeak until a cloud of smoke suddenly appeared from nowhere and you felt your body get bigger as you closed your eyes shut.
You wrapped your arms around Riddle’s neck so as not to fall and you felt his arms go under your shoulders and knees as he let out a surprised noise—realizing he was carrying you when the smoke thinned out. His eyes widened in surprise and his face was as red as his face when he looked at the person he was carrying. There was no way. No absolute way this was happening to him.
You stared at him nervously, face red as you violently wondered why the spell suddenly went undone. Trey never mentioned anything about a kiss being able to undo it so why…!? Countless questions took over your mind but there was only one thing you could focus on right now.
What do I do now?
“Ahaha… Hi Riddle…” Nervously, you started.
“Y-Y-You…”
“It’s me, (Y/N)...!” You had the feeling this wasn’t going to end well.
“M-My confession…”
“Oh yeah, about that I—”
“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!”
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Extra:
"E-Eh!? That came from Riddle-senpai's room right now. Do you think he's okay?" A random student asked the person beside them, crossing their arms as a pensive expression took over their face.
"Hmm, do you think we should check? Or tell Trey-senpai?" The other suggested. But as soon as Trey's name was uttered, he emerged from the hall with a satisfied grin on his face—as if he accomplished something great.
"Don't worry about Riddle, he's just having a little bit of fun with someone right now." He chuckled, not doing well to ease the students' worries.
"Trey-senpai...? Oh, he's gone. What do you think he meant by that?"
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akaashisbabygirl · 3 years
Text
camboy part two
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authors note: hehe i decided to leave you all on a cliffhanger once again. if you haven’t read part one i suggest you do so! i think my tags are working again so hopefully this can be seen in tags!! i’m sorry that i took forever to post this, i’ve been really busy :( now, if you would like a part three let me know!
words: 1840
pairings: camboy!akaashi x female!reader
warnings: NSFW, male vibrator use, female and male masturbation, mentions of sex toys, reader gets sad, akaashi gets sad, kinda angsty, leaves you on a cliffhanger
part one 
“so...” akaashi’s voice spoke into the microphone sitting on the desk, “thank you all for your suggestions. i’m going to be taking them into consideration for my next video.”
he quickly turned off the microphone, stopping everything he was doing to check out the list of items people had suggested for him to use in his next stream.
a harness, blindfold, handcuffs?? he didn’t know how much that would work. he’d have to find a way to restrain himself without having to call someone else to do it for him. that would be tricky. some viewers even suggested he used some sex toys such as a vibrator because they wanted to see what akaashi would look like squirming and overstimulated. or some even suggested that he were to edge himself, not letting himself cum just yet. cat ears, a harness? the things people were suggesting to him made him really interested to see just how far they wanted him to go. maid outfit? he chuckled.
it would’ve been next to impossible for akaashi to hide all the clothing items from you, his roommate, the one person he has definite feelings for. he couldn’t just keep some women outfits in his closet - you would believe he has a girlfriend who you didn’t know about. and if you felt the same way about him, you would be upset with the fact that he never told you about being in a relationship.
he shivered to these thoughts. which is why akaashi kept the idea of just getting the simple items - cat ears, harness, a skirt, sex toys etc. at least he wouldn’t need to try and hide them from you.
if you had found akaashi’s secret sex toy stash on accident - he knew you would probably just brush it off, considering you know him and his hormones, and knowing he wasn’t taken by anyone, there really wasn’t anyone to fuck.
you see, akaashi isn’t the type of person who is interested in one night stands. yes, he had lost his virginity before his ex girlfriend, which he regrets very much. but now, akaashi was a grown man. he was out there looking for a relationship that he wanted to last for a long time, a relationship where he can properly love the person for more than just the sex.
a relationship that he wanted to build with you.
he left his room quickly as he heard the door shut, signalling that you were back home. he was excited to see you, yet, he hid his excitement from you.
“can you help me?” you asked, pouting softly. akaashi chuckled, grabbing some of the heavy bags from your hands, setting them down on the kitchen bench.
a soft pink blush spread across your face. he was so big compared to you, and you liked it. you felt so small next to akaashi, so tiny and adorable. and you know he liked that too - akaashi feels that he can be able to protect you because you’re smaller than him, but that’s just how he feels.
the next day, akaashi was out early to leave for work. the apartment felt cold and empty when you had woken up to the painful sight of the sun shining too brightly into your eyes. it would be one of those days which you had gotten used to overtime, where you would spend all day at home on your own, waiting for akaashi to walk back in through those doors once more. you waited, and waited, thinking of things to do could seem to make time move faster than it had previously.
by noon, you were sitting on your bed, laptop in your lap as you scrolled through your work, submitting it to your manager before he yelled at you. you sighed softly, in desperate need for a break. that’s when the idea popped into your head, to check if he had uploaded. seeing that he had, you smiled greatly. a smile of relief had sprouted over your soft cheeks. you slipped your sweatpants down, watching how the man sat on the screen, his cock already hard and noticeable in his boxers.
you almost drooled at the sight of his cock. it was pretty. if that was even a proper way to describe it. you watched as the man took his erect cock from his boxers, thinking about how it would fit inside of you. he was bigger than what you had seen and taken before, but he was the only man who made you drool to the thought of what it would be like inside of you. how your cunt would feel sucking him in, how he’d hit those spots inside of you that you could barely reach with your own fingers. you’d let him fuck you over and over again until you’d become dumb and unable to think properly, drooling all over the white bedsheets of your bed.
soft fingers rubbed your clit, tracing around your folds before finally slipping a finger into your wet hole. a hand clamped over your mouth quickly to try and surpass your moans as your hips bucked up for more friction. you chased after that one feeling that made you lose control every time, the feeling that had your legs shaking and eyes rolling to the back of your head. moans slipped forcefully from your lips, a wave of pleasure spreading quickly throughout your body from the feeling of your fingertips desperately trying to reach that one spot inside of you which always sent you over the edge. 
however, what you didn’t know was that akaashi was in the apartment. his jaw had dropped quickly while hearing a moan slip from your lips. without having to look into a mirror to see his painful expression, akaashi could tell a tear had fallen down his cheek. he felt as if he was tied down to the ground by some invisible shackles, keeping him in place, forcing him to accept the reality that he did not want to accept. he didn’t want to stand there and listen to some guy fuck you, he didn’t want to hear you moan for that man, praise them and give them all your attention. selfishly, akaashi wished it were him. 
slowly, akaashi made his way out of the apartment, locking the door behind him. he rushed to bokuto’s, planning to send you a message saying that he would be at work late. it was only because he was too scared to see you right now, akaashi was too afraid to see you. he didn’t want to see your fucked out expression. he didn’t want to see the man or whoever was making you feel this good. 
and so he left. 
when akaashi arrived home that night, he acted as if nothing had happened - and so did you. it made akaashi mad, knowing that he had clearly heard something going on in your bedroom earlier that day, but he didn’t want to sound like a jealous idiot and bring it up. which is why he chose to keep his feelings to himself as he sat beside you, watching the stupid rom com on the tv. he hated the fact that he felt as if his feelings were twisted into a tight knot that he couldn’t untie. there was so much love for you filling his heart that he could’ve sworn that at any minute his own heart would combust from the anxiety which danced around his mind. 
akaashi knew that he needed to get a new video out, his fans were growing desperate and he was needing the money. he waited patiently until you had left the house, before locking the door to his room, changing up his setting to the camboy’s room. 
time passed and quickly moans were spilling from his lips, his hips bucking up as his hands grasped desperately into the bedsheets. he chose today to incorporate a toy, a vibrator specifically, yet, he didn’t know that this much pleasure would spread through his body. he blushed from how he was moaning, he was so desperate, so subby even. he felt dirty, overstimulated from the way the toy was making him feel. his eyes rolled to the back of his head as another orgasm washed over him, his fucked out body falling to the sheets after taking the small toy away from his length. 
he waited until his body filled with some energy before he got up from his spot on the bed, moving to turn his camera off. he quickly changed his sheets, accidentally forgetting to put his skirt away, before passing out underneath the sheets of his bed.
you smiled, seeing akaashi in his bed fast asleep. you could tell he was in a deep slumber from the way he clung to his bedsheets, not even moving a muscle. you adored the sleeping boy. 
“he must’ve worked himself too hard today” you thought, knowing that akaashi never falls asleep unless he’s exhausted.
how you wished that you could go over to him and kiss his forehead, telling him to sleep well, or even that you could get into bed, wrapping your arms around him and falling asleep with his back to your chest. there’s so much you wanted to do, but akaashi wasn’t your boyfriend, so it wasn’t going to happen. 
you grabbed your washing form the bathroom, a pale blue skirt catching your eye in the process. this wasn’t your skirt. who’s was it? your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, almost swearing that tears began to bombard your eyes as your mind came to realisation.
akaashi has a girlfriend.
you left the skirt there, pretending as if you had never seen it. however, the thoughts of akaashi being with someone else made you feel sick. soon enough, you were also curled up under the sheets of your bed. 
days had passed, yet the thought of akaashi having a girlfriend didn’t leave your mind. you wondered what she was like. how pretty is she? how tall is she? what is her hair colour? what’s her style? or in general; what does she look like? you couldn’t find a part of your mind that wasn’t thinking about this as you made your way back to the apartment. you felt sick, almost anxious even being there. you felt scared, scared that you would run into the girl who had crushed your dreams of being with akaashi.
opening the front door to the apartment, you heard a loud cry coming from akaashi’s room. his door was slightly spread open, screams and moans coming from there. you didn’t care about the moans, why was akaashi screaming? rushing to his room, you shoved the door open.
but what you saw wasn’t what you expected.
“akaashi...” you noticed the familiar set up to the way the cam boy has. the bed, the walls, even the pretty skirts, some of the toys he’s brought out before sitting on the bed beside him, “what are you doing?” 
© all content belongs to akaashisbabygirl 2021, do not repost or change
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lord-explosion-baku · 3 years
Text
Trident Tale part 2
Mermaid!Shinsou x reader x Kirishima x reader
Warnings: adult themes (minors DNI)
Author’s note: sorry to those of you who have asked me to put on the tag list! I don’t do tag lists! But if you don’t want to lose this story, you can always bookmark it on AO3.
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3
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Original image by @maewoahoah
Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.
Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.
You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.
You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.
The thing about being hungry is that you can sometimes convince yourself that you’re full. You can sip water, swallow your breath, pop a few mints in—hell, you could even pretend to eat. However, even if you might trick your brain, your stomach will still be empty.
By the time you finally get some real goddamn food in your stomach, it will be aching from being teased.
It feels like this is exactly what Hitoshi Shinsou has done to you. Teased you. He’d mentioned being one of Ryūjin, which you can only assume is something religious or magic. You know he’s a fish, and that he makes people’s skin glow when he touches them, and apparently his lips or his saliva can heal wounds. But he’s not yet given you any real goddamn food.
The jerk has been swimming circles around the pool, commenting on how disgusting it is being stuck with all the trash, and complaining about your poor hospitality, but has not yet told you what the hell he’s doing here.
It’s not like you ever asked for some creature to crash into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool. Maybe some people would be ecstatic over finding an actual merperson, but life isn’t all about singing songs and talking to seagulls. He’s definitely not an Ariel, unless he is in fact looking for a prince. With all his sass, you think he’s much more of an Ursula than a Disney princess. If he is a sea-witch, he refuses to tell you.
It won’t matter much by the time Denki gets here anyways. You had been honest when you said you wouldn’t put it against him to call some news station when he sees Hitoshi. You figure that after some science lab’s helicopters carried your intruder away to run tests on him, the fish-man will be out of your hair and a thing of the past.
Despite the cynicism crawling through your head, the thought actually makes a guilty pit form in the bottom of your stomach. A life is a life, afterall.
“At least tell me why you tried to…to…” Your mouth flattens when you recall Hitoshi leaning into you, his lips a whisper away from yours.
“To?” Hitoshi asks while he observes the wayward bra that blew into the pool with notable repulsion.
“To kiss me!” You bark out, ears warm.
“Oh, that?” He purses his lips, spinning the bra around in the water. Then, he’s contemplative for a moment, as if he’s thinking of an excuse that won’t make you angry. Or will. He seems to get a kick out of frustrating you.
“I suppose I should’ve considered that it’s not a social norm for humans to greet other humans with their lips,” he says with a cocky, probably lying smirk. “My bad.”
“You expect me to believe that mermaids kiss each other to say hello?”
“Not a mermaid.” The fish is all teeth as he regards you. “I’m one of Ryūjin. And I’d like to think that you’d believe anything I tell you, since you seem to know nothing about my people.”
“Because you won’t tell me anything about your people,” you mutter right before the house bell rings. Your heart jumps with a spike of panic. You haven’t thought about what you’re going to say to Denki yet. You begin thinking about science labs again, and that knot in your stomach tightens.
“Okay,” you say in a warning tone, “I’m gonna let Denki in now…”
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s gonna see you…”
“That’s the plan.” Hitoshi lifts a brow. “You’re not worried for me, are you?”
“I just think you should be more worried about yourself,” you say. “Humans aren’t…” There’s a pensive pause when you try to search for the right word. “Humans aren’t good.”
“Would you say that you’re a good human?” He asks.
What a question. You’d like to believe that you are, but you can’t kid yourself. Never one to be very self-sacrificing, you utter your next words with confidence. “Nope.”
“And yet, you haven’t done anything malicious towards me. Nothing, besides that half-assed attempt to kick me away from you, anyways.”
Rolling your eyes to keep your couldn’t-care-less facade up, you left the smirking merman to wade around in the murky pool. There’s not another second to think about what you could possibly say to Denki about your surprise guest, because when you enter the house, you see his face peeking through the side window next to the front door. You could see a drink holder and a Tiki Burger bag in his hand. His smile is bright, while yours is grim.
He pouts, seeing through forced body language, and proceeds to make a funny face. You let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. You might not be a good person, but Denki is. He’s an idiot, but you don’t think he’d ever do anything to harm another creature, mythical or not. This could even be fun to him. Exciting. Something extraordinary happened, and you’d been too scared to react to it appropriately, but Denki would be different.
Your changing emotions grow palpable when you finally reach for the handle.
“Heard you had some thingies that needed twisting,” Denki says as you open the door. He’s wearing his company’s shirt, a brown thing with the PoolPros logo on it, though it’s cut raggedly short to show off his midriff. He’s been particularly confident ever since he’d gotten his navel pierced, and happily showed off the topaz stone that Kirishima had given him. It hangs right above his buckle. It forces onlookers to look at his abs…or maybe his groin. He says it’s lucky, and you haven’t argued with him about it. You would probably call something Kirishima gave you lucky too.
In a flash, you’re grabbing him by his shirt collar and guiding him in and against one of the hall mirrors.
“Something’s happened.” The words immediately spill out, even while you still do not know what you’re going to say. You hope that if the right things tumble out of your mouth, Denki will get the picture.
“Uh…” Denki’s cheeks are red hot, reacting to your close proximity. “Was it a spike in your libido?”
God.
“No, shut up!” You smack his chest and glance down the hall towards the back door. The pool isn’t in your line of vision, but just knowing what lurks there gets your blood pumping. “This is going to sound crazy, but I need you to keep an open mind.”
He bobs his brows. “For you? Always.”
After an exhale, you gather your composure, and tell Denki everything with as much eloquence as you can muster.
“There’s something living in the pool!” You bark out, erratic. “It’s big and it has zero impulse control and it’s rude! It talks! When it touches me, my skin glows. Then it tried to kiss me, Kaminari! And it’s rude!” You add that in again, because you cannot stress it enough. Hitoshi Shinsou is as unrefined as a piece of driftwood, and he had the audacity to make comments on behalf of your decorum. “It won’t tell me what it’s doing here, either. I offered to get it back into the ocean, but it said it wanted something else, but it won’t tell me what, and I don’t know what to do!”
Denki blinks rapidly, like his eyelashes are repelling every word you toss at him. There’s a beat, he swallows, then his lips tilt up into a knowing grin.
“Alright,” he says, “I see you.”
“You do?” Maybe you had to give Denki a little more credit. That hadn’t been your best description of a nightmare scenario.
“Sure do, little lady. This is some kinda belated birthday prank, huh? Thought you could slide one past me when I was least expecting it! I was thinking that maybe you just forgot about it, but now you’ve got something up your sleeve, don’t ya! Well cutie, I might be dumb, but I’m not stupid!”
Striding into the house, Denki places the shakes and burger bag onto Shuzenji’s kitchen counter. Shoulders deflating, you follow him while he fishes a few fries out of the bag. If he doesn’t get it now, he will soon enough.
“What could it be?” He ponders, tossing a fry into his mouth. He nods towards one of the cups and mumbles about a shake for you, then towards the back door. “Couldn’t be a party—it’s too early for a party. And you don’t talk to many people…”
Ignoring the slight burn, you front Denki, and extend your hand out to his. His eyes widen for a moment, he wipes his hand on his pants, and takes yours.
“I need your help, Denki. Seriously.”
“Yeah,” he says, a touch more reformative. “Okay.”  
What should’ve been some grand reveal, however, turned out to be anything but.
The pool being clean is the first thing you notice, as absurd as that is. It’s now half-filled, with only sprinkles of algae leftover by some miraculous clean-up. There’s no more silver fish swimming around, and all the trash that had previously taken sanctuary in the pool now lays on a mountainous pile with the bra sitting at its peak. Your guest is no longer in the pool—the very clean pool.
Denki chuckles and says, “well, this doesn’t look bad at all. By how hysterical you were on the phone, I was expecting something much worse. Oh! Hello!”
Your jaw drops as Denki waves at Hitoshi—a very comfortable-looking Hitoshi who lounges on one of the reclining pool chairs, head turned back like he’s sun bathing, one leg crossed over the goddamn other. Legs. Attached to feet—feet that definitely were not there when you’d met him.
Tricky, magic fish-man.
“Oh,” Hitoshi says, carefully considering Denki. “We have company?”
The ‘we’ in his statement doesn’t sit right with you anymore than his appearance does. He stands, and both you and Denki gasp when you see his new outfit in its entirety. It’s all royal blue, fine silks, and sheer fabric that only covers the places that would make Denki blush. Puffy, yet flowing sleeves connect to his now two golden cuffs. A heavy gold necklace hangs around him, and he’s got a light sash thrown around mostly his bare chest. A golden, v-shaped belt holds his deep blue harem pants up.
They are the gaudiest goddamn pajamas you’ve ever seen.
Hitoshi moves like water to face Denki, then firmly grasps him by the forearm, yanking the boy forward so that their lips are mere inches away from each other. Noting that there’s no glowing from their contact, you watch as Hitoshi’s indigo eyes slide from Denki’s lips, to you, and shows off a dubious glint.
“Whoops,” Hitoshi murmurs basically into Denki’s mouth. “I almost forgot that you don’t greet people like this here.” He takes a step away and smirks. “Forgive me. I’m Hitoshi Shinsou. You must be the pool guy.”
“Um, yeah. ‘M Denki Kaminari.” Denki laughs nervously. His cheeks burn red, and he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Grabbing onto your hand tightly, he starts back towards the house, towing you along, saying, “excuse us, we just have to—uh. Talk.”
In a tick, you’re whisked right back inside, in the land of private conversations.
“It didn’t look like that before, Denki. I swear to god.” You’re insisting as soon as the door is closed.
“It?!” Denki balks, his cheeks turning even more red. “Do you mean the pool or that hunk of a man hanging around your backyard?!”
“Both, I guess, but I wouldn’t call it a man! It had a giant purple tail before you showed up!!”
“That’s very rude, y’know.” Denki peers back at Hitoshi who’s lackadaisically cleaning his fingertips. “What are their pronouns?”
You imagine Hitoshi surrounded by others like him, all either screaming or clicking to communicate with each other in an inhuman language. “I don’t think pronouns matter wherever it’s from!”
“Hmm.” Denki slides the door open and pops his head out. “‘Scuse me, Hitoshi, what are your pronouns?”
Without missing a beat, Hitoshi answers him. “As in titles? You can call me Shinsou, but if you’re so inclined, I’ll allow you to call me lord.”
“Lord, of course.” More nervous laughter as Denki closes the door. “Lord. That’s a kink thing, right? It’s gotta be!”
“It’s not!” You bark, but Denki doesn’t hear you. Instead, he rushes towards one of the hall mirrors and begins fussing over his hair.
“I honestly can’t believe you did this. I mean, you, of all people. You’re braver than I gave you credit for. Coulda given me a heads up, though. I would’ve worn somethin’ nice. Or not come at all. I do feel like I’m intruding.” Denki’s eyes light up. “Unless this is for my birthday and you’re…you want me to join you?”
“You’ve lost me.” You're too busy trying to figure out what you can do to convince Denki that Hitoshi is a mermaid. You’ve considered pushing him back into the pool, but you don’t know if that would change him back to his sea-man state, or just make you look like a jackass.
“This is so weird. I haven’t seen that guy on the island before, and believe me, I know everybody. It must’ve cost a pretty penny to get him here. On top of everything else-“ He clears his throat- “how much is this costing you? Does Shuzenji know what you get up to while she’s away?”
It hits you like a freight train. “Oh, Kaminari…No…”
“The jig is up!” Denki stomps his foot defiantly and points towards the door. “You’re paying that man for sex!”
“God no!” The very idea that you’ve paid Hitoshi to be here, to touch you, flusters the hell out of you. If anything, you’d pay for him to leave. “You’d honestly think I’d hire a prostitute?!”
“Escort is the term they are using nowadays, and no, I wouldn’t think you’d hire an escort until now!” Denki scoffs, then moves his hand through his hair, exasperated. “The thing is, babe, you don’t need to. You’re cute and fun! If you got out every once in a while…”
“Fish!” You yell, cutting him off, because you’re not about to have another conversation about your hermit lifestyle. “He’s a fish, Denki! I didn’t fuck a fish! Nor am I planning to!”
Denki blinks at you. Not like before—not like he’s reflecting your words. This blink is more like a blink one would offer someone who’d been having an otherwise normal conversation, until they started talking about the earth being flat, or homosexuals burning in a lake of fire.
I’m not crazy, you think and will Denki to believe. I’ll prove it.
Before you can give Denki a play-by-play of what happened—properly this time, and not just your rambled recall—the door slides open, and Hitoshi steps in.
“May I enter?” The regal-looking man asks.
At the exact same moment you say, “no,” Denki says, “of course.”
“I was just hoping to find something to eat.” Hitoshi stops in the kitchen, arms crossed and expectant.
“You haven’t fed your hooker?” Denki whispers and it blows your mind that he can say hooker and you can’t say prostitute. “You can have half my burger!”
“Burger,” Hitoshi repeats the unfamiliar word, and looks around, probably wondering what it could be. Denki takes the hint and proceeds to fish his meal out of the bag. Overly familiar with Shuzenji’s kitchen, he finds a knife to cut the sandwich in two, then hands one half to Hitoshi.
Hitoshi frowns.
“I’m sorry, are you a vegetarian?” Denki asks, and you can tell he’s being overly hospitable in a house that is not his. When Hitoshi doesn’t answer him, but doesn’t stop frowning, Denki asks, “do you not eat meat?”
“This is meat?” Asks Hitoshi, shaking the burger in the air. Some mayonnaise-covered lettuce falls to the kitchen floor.
“I have to clean that!” You yip and wet a paper towel. When you’re on your knees, Hitoshi gives you a smirk of indifference.
“What, do you not have hamburgers where you’re from?” Denki asks, and when Hitoshi refuses to answer him again, he says, “the meat is the patty. It’s beef.”
“Beef.” Hitoshi begins dissecting the thing, throwing the bun halves, pickles, tomato, and lettuce all on the floor. You continue to curse at him while he sniffs at the patty. “What animal is this?”
“Beef is cow, dude.” Denki sounds more skeptical now, which you’d be grateful for if you weren’t already on your hands and knees, scrubbing ketchup out of the tile. “Man, throwing food on the floor is rude no matter where you’re from. Babe, you shouldn’t have to clean that up.”
“If I don’t, who will?” You ask, sardonic.
“There’s not really a floor where I’m from,” Hitoshi says once he swallows his first bite. He places the patty back onto the burger wrap, and steps away from his mess. “At least, there’s no floor when it’s meal time. We just let shells and bones float around until they go down to where they’ll eventually break down and decay.”
Denki asks, “where did you say you were from?”
“He’s a fish, Denki.”
“I didn’t.” Hitoshi gets down on his knees with a wetted paper towel of his own. He swipes at the places you’ve missed, then looks at you. “Tell me, would a not-good person clean up a mess that isn't their own?”
“It’s kind of my job,” you retort and stand so Hitoshi can finish cleaning. Instead, he stands with you.
“And what is his job?” Hitoshi nods towards Denki who looks more and more fretful by the second. “I assume he’s here to provide services. If you’re paying him, shouldn’t he be the one to clean for you? Prepare meals for you? Bend to your whims?”
Denki says, “I’ve got a couple jobs, but I’m not a housekeeper, no.”
“No?” Hitoshi gives out a terse laugh and hands the towel off to Denki. “Clean.”
Denki looks to you for an explanation. You’re about to chew Hitoshi out, when he again says, “clean,” but this time, there’s something attached to his voice. Something that is nothing, but also more. It sends goosebumps up your arms and compels Denki to fall to the floor and obey the command.
“Yes, my lord.” When Denki finishes cleaning and throws the rest of the mess in the bin, he looks at Hitoshi, eyes glossy, waiting.
“Fetch me some water,” says Hitoshi, and after another yes, my lord, Denki begins searching for a glass.
“Quit it!” You shout and very nearly grab on to Hitoshi’s arm, stopping only when you remember the glow and the prickles that accompany his touch. Decidedly, you hurry after Denki and grab the glass from his hands and snap your fingers in front of his face.
Denki blinks, and this time it’s not because he doesn’t hear you, and it’s not because you’re spouting crazy nonsense. He blinks, and it’s a revelation.
“Hypnosis!” Denki says the word like eureka! and you want to shake him, because he should be angrier than he seems.
“I’m surprised you understand or even remember that much,” Hitoshi drawls. “You’re more in-tune than you’d like people to believe.”
And I’m Mother Teresa, you think bitterly. The fish is contemptuous as hell, but he doesn’t read people well. To him, you’re good and apparently Denki’s a genius.
“How did you do that?” Denki asks with growing excitement. “When I was a kid, I was really into magic, but could never get any of the tricks right. You didn’t use any triggering noises or images or anything.”
“There is a bit of magic about you,” Hitoshi says like he’s thinking out loud. “Not enough to pull something like what I just did off unless you have the proper tide jewel. But you do have enough power to utilize a tide jewel.”
“Don’t do that again,” you warn, and pour water from the sink into the glass. There’s purified water in the fridge, but Hitoshi hasn’t earned it. “To Kaminari or to me. The difference between a house guest and a home-invader is who does and does not use hypnosis on other guests.”
“I wasn’t aware that hypnosis is a common occurrence in your residence.” Hitoshi reaches for the glass, but you hold it away from him. Casting out a withering look, he says, “I wouldn’t be able to hypnotize him again, even if I wanted to. Not for a while, anyways. Not without my tide jewel.”
“What’s a tide jewel?” Denki asks. “Is that, like, sea glass?”
Eyes flicking from the glass of water, to Denki, then to you, Hitoshi says, “he knows how to ask a question.”
The questions that you ask get ignored! But instead of saying that, you continue to withhold the water, and say, “then answer him.”
Mildly peeved, Hitoshi turns his attention back to Denki. “You say you have a couple of jobs. What would they be?”
“That’s not answering his question,” you mutter.
“I’ll decide whether I should answer him in a moment. Denki, if you will.”
“Oh, well…” The sheepish Denki brings his hand to the back of his neck, blushing slightly. “I’ve got the PoolPros gig, and sometimes I pick shifts up at The Salty Barrel. I sort of got an affinity for making drinks…and cooking…and fixing things, so they like to keep me around.”
Unamused, Hitoshi pries. “Anything else?”
“Sometimes I pick up odd jobs. Fishing and delivery. I guess I’m pretty dependable because of the boat.”
This catches Hitoshi’s attention. “You have a boat?”
“Sure, yeah. It’s nothin’ too special yet. I’ve been working on it, and it’s coming along, but it’s not ready for what it’s truly intended for.”
“Which would be?”
Denki looks at you and winks, making your ears warm. You know exactly why he got the boat.
“Romantic rendezvous.”
“I see,” Hitoshi says pensively. Then, his eyes go sharp when he notices you fiddling with the ties on your shorts. “Are you two mates?”
Denki lifts a conspiratorial brow towards you, before throwing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his body. “Sure, yeah—we’re mates!”
You push away from him, and bite, “not those kinds of mates.”
Although nobody disagrees with you, you sense Denki sulking.
“Ah,” Shinsou muses. “You haven’t yet fought for her hand?”
Before you can groan at the idea, Denki laughs quietly, but his laughter quickly grows uproariously as he considers the idea. Soon, he’s gripping his stomach to stop himself from doubling over. You glare at his feet.
“As if there’s another guy to fight for her,” Denki bellows, wiping a tear away from his eye. “Maybe if she ever went out, but for now, the only person I gotta fight for her hand, is her!”
“Oh, I understand,” Shinsou says, eyes on you. “A battle to assert domination.”
Denki hoots loudly at the idea. “Looks like I’m screwed!”
To your growing agitation and embarrassment, Denki continues to laugh. It’s as if you’re not constantly shooting him down. You’re not pitiful. Not helpless. And you think you’d have some game if you put your heart into it. You just have a type, and the pool guy just doesn’t fit the bill, whether he’s handy or not.
There’s no humor to be found in Hitoshi’s eyes, though. He’s glaring at you, like before, only now he’s looking at you more like you’re a piece of meat—like he’s some kind of predator and you’re his newfound prey. You inadvertently step closer to Denki, as if he could be used as some sort of defense shield, then elbow him in the ribs, pretending that you’re not at all intimidated by this fish-turned-man.
“Nobody’s fighting anybody,” you say, keeping eye-contact with Hitoshi. You’ve been told before that the fact that you’re never the first to look away is a little off-putting. Hoping to have the same uncomfortable effect on your guest, you don’t even blink when you say, “I just have my eyes on someone special.”
At the same time Denki stops his laughing, Hitoshi narrows his eyes—not out of malice, but what seems to be curiosity. That’s as far as you’ll go with revealing any more personal information. You might not be physically spoken for, yet, but at least you’re emotionally unavailable. You vaguely wonder if those kinds of ideals are acknowledged by sea people.
“Yeah, Kiri,” Denki says with a roll of his eyes. So much for keeping things personal. “He’s not interested in dating anyone, though. In fact, he’s pretty much married to the ocean.”
“At least there aren’t other girls,” you say, and with a quick glance at Denki, you add, “or boys.”
Denki exaggerates a woeful, hand-over-forehead pose and cries, “at least we have each other!” Then, he places his hand back around your shoulders. Again, you scoot away from him, and this time, you catch Hitoshi’s lips quirk up, just a bit.
“Alright,” Hitoshi says. “I’ve decided.”
“Decided what?” You ask.
“That the two of you are going to help me.”
The fish-man moves to flatten the burger wrap down on the counter like a map, and proceeds to decimate the other half of Denki’s burger. Denki says, “oh that’s fine…I wasn’t that hungry anyways.”
“Help you with what!” You bark, practically starving for details. Despite Hitoshi and all that he’s done, your interest is piqued, and you feel as though you’re finally going to get to the meat of his situation.
Lining a few fries on the paper wrap, Hitoshi finally says, “a few of my worldly possessions have been stolen from me. They’ve been missing for quite a long time now, and I now plan to take them back. Four of the six items happen to be tide jewels. I figure those will be the easiest to locate and extract.”
Denki snaps his finger. “Tide jewels! That’s what we were talking about! What are those?
Dabbing his pinky into some mustard, Hitoshi says, “artistry…” He dips his ring finger into the ketchup and says, “reign…” he tears a piece of lettuce in half and says, “tide…” and finally, he rips some of the patty and says, “soul.”
“Artistry, reign, tide, soul,” Denki repeats, peeking over Hitoshi’s shoulder. “You don’t happen to be a musician, do you? A magician musician!”
“I’m a connoisseur, but not a practitioner.” Hitoshi breathes. “And you’re too close to me.”
“Well, you’re certainly not an artist,” Denki huffs, taking a few steps back. You move in to see what Denki saw.
On the wrap, the French fries have been warped to look like some sort of three-pronged fork. On the left prong, there’s a dab of ketchup, in the center, mustard, and the right has a piece of lettuce sitting on it. Connecting the three prongs is the bit of hamburger meat Hitoshi had ripped.
“Is this supposed to be a fork or a trident?” You ask, then kick yourself, because it’s obviously a trident. Duh. Mermaids. “Is that one of the things that have been stolen? A trident?”
Hitoshi says, “yes. All four of the tide jewels connect to the trident. With them, the trident could very well be one of the most powerful blessed objects on this planet. If it falls into the wrong hands, the results could be catastrophic.”
“Now, hang on,” Denki begins, brows curved into a frown. “What?”
“So good at questions,” you murmur.
“Each tide jewel has its own magical property. The names speak for themselves, but since the two of you are a little slow on the uptake, I’ll explain.” Hitoshi points at each different spot on his fries-trident, explaining what each point represents.
“The yellow jewel is for artistry and skill. Whoever wields it, whether in its natural form or attached to another object, will learn trades quickly, can craft almost anything at a master’s level, and they’ll have a more creative way of thinking.”
“The red jewel is for reign and rule. Whoever wields this can command any audience. Wars have been fought, kingdoms taken, and women stolen by the power of this gem. It’s almost the most violent of the four, but it can also be used to keep peace.”
“The blue jewel is for the tide. They used to be two jewels, one for tide-ebbing, the other for tide-flowing, but they’ve been molded together after another theft mishap. With the power of this jewel, one would be able to control not only the water of the sea, but water itself. This gem can create storms you couldn’t dream of. This is possibly the most dangerous stone if placed into the wrong hands.”
“Sir, that’s a piece of lettuce,” Denki says.
“Your burger didn’t have anything blue,” Hitoshi growls, “nor did it have anything purple, which brings me to the last jewel. This would be the soul jewel. It aids people with wishes, can offer good dreams, and can allow the wielder to see people’s auras, or souls. This jewel has stopped many malevolent unions in the past.”
Finally, Hitoshi turns back to you and Denki. There’s nothing content about his expression now. If anything, he looks grave.
“The fact that the trident is not in my possession has already had a cataclysmic influence on the world you know now. I need it, and the jewels, or else there may be dire consequences.”
Throat dry, palms sweaty, you swallow thickly, and allow yourself a moment to process all that he’s saying. It may be idiotic, but you believe him. Maybe if you hadn’t seen him in the water earlier, things would be different. You’d be more skeptical. But since you’ve already seen one impossible thing today—two if you're counting the fact that Hitoshi grew legs and magically poofed himself an outfit—you don’t think he’s lying.
However, Denki did not see him in the water. Which is why he’s the first to speak.
“Right,” he says, looking down on you. “Sorry, babe, but the marvel universe did it first with Thanos and his gauntlet. If this is supposed to be a scavenger hunt of some kind, can we skip the game, hints and all, and get to the dinner? I expect there’ll be candles and such for nighttime, so maybe you and I can hang out at the beach, sans the mean magician?” Denki looks at Hitoshi. “No offense, buddy. You could join us if you cheer up a bit. I’d never say no to a threesome with two equally attractive people.”
The water in the glass you’re holding begins to shake. It shakes, and then it moves, and then it lifts up into the air, snaking around like a gelatinous worm, and slowly makes its away to Hitoshi’s mouth. Never before have you seen anyone swallow menacingly, and this has changed it.
“I am not your buddy,” Hitoshi hisses between his teeth, “and this is not a game.”
“He just…” Denki begins stuttering. This isn’t something he can chock up to something as mundane as a magic trick. This is pure magic, and you feel less like a giant dork for how you reacted to Hitoshi showing himself to you, with how distraught Denki seems to be.
“I told you,” you say under your breath, “he’s a fish!”
“I am Hitoshi Shinsou. I am one of Ryūjin, and you will not desecrate my name or my people by belittling me or my power.” It hadn’t occurred to you until now that he’s not only speaking to Denki, but to both of you. The thought makes you shift with unease as Hitoshi’s eyes slide from your friend to you. “Not without consequences. I’ve been burdened with this purpose, and the two of you can choose to help me and reap the rewards that follow, or you can return to your miserable lives, loligagging and ogling the things you know you want, but are too lazy to obtain.”
At this moment, Hitoshi Shinsou seems ancient to you. Trepidation crawls up your spine, chilling you to the bone. You regret most of what you’ve said to him, even the things you’d thought he deserved. You have an inkling that if Hitoshi really wanted to harm you, or Denki, he would. Easily.
“Okay, well-“ Denki, again speaks first, thank god. “You didn’t say there would be rewards.”
Maybe don’t thank god yet. But before you can apologize on Denki’s behalf, the air that you hadn’t realized had got heavier, thicker even, lifts, and Hitoshi eases up, lackadaisical smirk back on track.
“You both wish for something,” he says. “If you help me retrieve what’s rightfully mine, I will graciously return the favor by granting your wishes.”
“We do?” Denki asks. It’s wild to you how easily he could jump back into conversation like this, although, when you look closely at him, you can see that he’s trembling faintly. “What do I want?”
“You wish for a boat,” Hitoshi says, “so I will give you a boat.”
“I have a boat.”
“I’ll give you a better boat.” Hitoshi seems to be enjoying himself now, even going so far as to lean on the table, picturing exactly what he’s describing. “A captivating boat that both women and men find irresistible. It will sail smoother and faster than the other vessels out on sea. You will never want or need for an upgrade for it will never wear or tear.”
“A super boat,” Denki muses, beguiled by the idea. It’s your turn to be skeptical now, because you haven’t wished for anything. At least, not aloud for Hitoshi to hear.
“Then, what do I get?” You ask, arms crossed. You can admit that you’re interested in what he might have to say.
“Oh darlin’, that’s easy,” Hitoshi purrs, and moves from the counter over to you. Slowly, like he’s savoring your anticipation. Lifting a finger to your arm, he slides it across your skin, watching as both the glow and the tingles return. You have to hold your breath to yourself from sighing.
“You want to be loved,” he says, “adored even. And not just by anybody. You want to be with your soulmate, isn’t that right. That may be why you came to this island to begin with.”
There’s no way he could’ve known that you’re new to the island. Nobody said anything about it. But he’s not wrong. Though you can’t say he’s right either. You came to the island in hopes to find…yourself. And though you haven’t yet found yourself, you sure as hell found Kirishima. And soulmate has a nice right to it.
“So if we help you find these gems—“
“—tide jewels,” he intervenes.
“Tide jewels-“ you roll your eyes- “then you will give Denki a super boat, and you will unite me with a soulmate?”
“Exactly,” Hitoshi confirms. “Easy peesy, isn’t it?”
“How do we know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain?” Denki asks, finally out of his super boat daydreams.
“I said you were good with questions.” Hitoshi smirks. “You don’t know. You can’t know. But you can either do this with me, and probably get a super boat and a soulmate out of it, or you can not, and get nothing.”
Denki side-eyes you, and you him. You hold each other’s gazes for a brief moment, and you already know how this would play out if you refuse. Denki would convince you to do it. You don’t do anything, he says with his eyes. Might as well hang around and see how this plays out.
“Fine.” Even though your good conscience screams at you to do otherwise, you let up. “We’ll help you.”
“Excellent.” Hitoshi beams, or at least, he beams in a way only someone who was just threatening two other people can beam. “Then we should start our search today. We’ll probably need to go into town and see if there are any supernatural occurrences or old folktales to check out.”
Going out to town is the last thing you’d planned on doing today. Or maybe the second to last thing you planned on doing. You have to ask, because if you don’t, you’ll go batsy.
“We won’t be getting wet, will we?”
Hitoshi scoffs, which isn’t an answer. Maybe you really don’t ask the right questions because when Denki asks, “you said there were six things you need to retrieve. What’s the sixth thing?” Hitoshi winks at you, and grins. And when he grins, your stomach aches.
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