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pursuitseternal · 3 months

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“His:” Maistacia sates Ascended Astarion’s needs and her own (NSFW)

A gift for @primopinku: her beautiful Durge🗡️✨ and her art that inspired this story.

Ascended Astarion x Durge Maistacia | E | 1.5K

Summary: “There was nothing quite like the silence after a massacre:” Maistacia, Dark Consort, Right Hand of the Vampire Ascendant finds her love… or rather he finds her. And tames her waywardness so she is… his

CW: bloodshed, past Dark Urge sated, possessive A!Astarion, blood kink, rough sex

Ao3 link | Astarion Fic Masterlist

🖤🖤🩸🖤🖤🩸🖤🖤🩸🖤🖤🩸🖤🖤🩸🖤🖤

There was nothing quite like the silence after a massacre. Astarion had once purred such sweet lines to her, wrapping his tendrils of love and charming her with his blinding obsession.

But it was true. The hum of her living muscles, writhing from their exertion thrilled her. Somewhere in the distance, Maistacia could still hear a faint drip, drip of blood. Not one Guild member was left breathing, not one sound filled their great caverns packed with stolen goods. They paid for their treason against her and her love in blood. Blood that ran so quietly now.

“I see you’ve had some fun, darling….”

Slowly she turned, her slippered feet silent on the stairs as she climbed up towards that waiting figure. His silhouette shimmered in the flickering torches, holding court even from the entryway of his cave. Astarion’s lips pulled into that slanted smile, eyes half lidded and head tilted as he watched her flow like water, graceful in every way as she came to stand before him. Her dark eyes sparkled in the flickering light of the caverns, the drops of blood like rubies glistening on her skin.

“I hope you’re not… disappointed,” she lilted, a coy smile darting over her thick and pouting lips. “I don’t take kindly to threats to our rule, my love.”

“Are you worried I would be angry,” one of Astarion’s thick, silver brows quirked. Amused. “The Guild has paid for their betrayal, it seems, my dark consort. My right hand seems to have fed the ghosts of her Urge.”

His pale hand shot out to claw around her chin, a bit of pressure, the dance of a threat in his crimson eyes. Warm and wet, his tongue caressed up her jaw and temple, licking the spattered blood of their enemies as she groaned. “My only complaint is that you didn’t want to share…” whining, hurt… no. He was toying with her, taunting her to rise to his challenge.

“Why make my Ascended Lord sully his hands with such filth as the traitorous Guild, hmm?” Maistacia purred, one bloodied hand creeping into the collar of his jacket, all white and beaded and elegant. Now it would be stained at his neck with the blood of their enemies. “Perhaps you require a different sort of feast, my love.”

His fingers snatched hard around her slick wrist, his tongue warm as he lapped the sticky crimson from her dark and golden skin. A deep throated sigh left her throat, her heart rapped even harder against her ribs, her own set of viscera vibrating inside with each swirl of his tongue in the cup of her palm, each longer suck of her fingers as he cleaned them.

“I liked this jacket, you know…” he hissed, false tones of disappointment coloring his voice as he let her hand drop, favoring those smirking lips for his next meal. He devoured her smile, sucking that grin from her lips and stealing her warm exhales before they left her lungs.

“You can’t blame the right hand that feeds you,” her voice curled into his ear, echoing in the workings of his hungry mouth.

“And little love, don’t you make my mouth water,” his damp mouth slunk down the curve of her jaw to suckle on her neck. Fangs sliced perfectly into her, the flow of warm and fresh blood scenting the air, covering the metallic whiff of congealing, drawing out the heady orange-laden scent of her own perfume. His tall, lithe body wound snug around hers, skin-tight in his embrace. Suck after deafening suck, he took from her, his fingers clawed into her upper arms, holding her firm and steady.

His.

And yet, when she was done with allowing him such liberties, her fingers gripped around his windpipe, shoving him back just enough to unlock those greedy lips from her flesh. “Tut, tut,” he grinned slowly, gazing up through her long lashes. “That’s enough. You wouldn’t want to add one more corpse to this magnificent pile I’ve already made.”

“Never,” he purred, that left bow arching as he licked his lips clean. “But your master is still hungry… still looking for more ways to be fed.”

Maistacia giggled deep in her throat, that music in her voice reverberating over the rocks that held only death and stillness now. Three steps, and crossed the landing to a balustrade. She slid herself to perch on its edge, the stone rail thick enough, far enough from the gaping, bloody void beneath them both. Her hands slowly slid the loose folds of her waistband from her hips, her flowing trousers puddled around her ankles. Dark eyes locked into his crimson ones as he stalked closer. As he watched more and more of her skin revealed for his viewing.

For his taking.

The hem of her silken tunic, dark and black as her eyes, soaked with blood, peeled higher. That invitation to help her quel that bloodlust… or just her pounding lust that matched his raging desire. It was enough to beckon him to her body. Confined at last, arms around her back, hands pulling her flush to the edge of the stone rail beneath her, he began his feast.

She couldn’t breath, lungs burning as every gasp she tried to take was only filled with his own groans. The leather of his own breaches was cold compared to the inferno inside her by now, now that he grinded into her slick between her thighs.

He pressed that hard line of his cock against her, an insistent demand to sate himself with her in more ways than one. Her own fingers locked into the edge of stone behind her, braced for the rigor she knew was coming. But he lingered, tasting her kiss, the slight tang of blood still coating his tongue and filling her nose. That pit in her stomach gnawed harder, a little buck of her hips on the smooth and oiled surface of his breeches giving her no relief.

Most likely on purpose.

“Won’t you feed… take what you want, my love?”

His lips twisted and devoured all at once. “If you think you deserve it, little love… Perhaps you have been rather naughty to leave me behind as you decimated our enemies…”

“I thought you loved a good massacre… letting your right hand do as the gods intended…” she purred in reply.

“Of course, but I wonder what else your right hand might do now to please me…”

“Plenty I can do…” That was enough to spike her inferno to blazing. Her hand reached between their bodies, tearing through the few little buttons that kept him confined. A growl of approval shook her lips, his own hand catching his cock to give it a few lingering strokes. A moment to tease its weeping head up and down her seam, his fangs grit together as he pressed his mouth against her trembling lips.

Always so strong, so fierce, this beautiful murderess of his. But she would melt for him and him alone.

His… he groaned as he took her. Musk from her body, perfume from her skin… there was nothing left to their senses of the bloodbath around them. Only their possession of one another. Only his cock thrusting, only her hips riding his every movement.

Every drag inside her, every dig of his nails into the perfect swell of her ass to keep her from sliding on the rough stone… every ounce of pain and pleasure pushed them further into owning one another.

The Lord and his Right Hand, the Ascendant and his Consort… their pleasured noises were the only sounds to fill a room of death. And with every little death they drew from one another, they never felt more alive.

Hips slapped hard against her, the cries of her own bliss piercing in the heavy silence to thrill his pointed ears.

His.

Every clench around him threw him closer, that way that only she could get under his skin, could unravel him piece by piece. It was too much… too intoxicating, too compelling to be in her thrall.

Not that he would ever admit to it with words.

Only the language of his cock buried between her thighs, the poetry of his hand stayed into those sensuous, raven locks that reached her hips. He would sing only the love ballads of his groans as he fucked her, the percussion of his body slamming against her dripping thighs until he growled and huffed as he came. Her thighs locked around his waist, trapping him until she squeezed every last little drop of his seed.

A few more thrusts for good measure, his hand in her hair roughly yanking her face from his shoulder. Making her dark pools of eyes to meet his stare as he finished. As he made her his again.

He swept his fingers through the stain of her blood from her neck, pressing them against her lips. “Suck,” he commanded with a hiss. “My consort… my right hand…”

Maistacia’s lips sealed around that coppery salt of her own blood, his cock still twitching inside her with every swirl she darted around his digits.

“Mine,” he purred one last time as brought those bloodied lips to his one more time. Even as he was hers, his body sang in reply.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

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Happy Couple 7

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

I make no promise and am just following a whim.

Summary: Your father makes a deal to marry you to his top capo. (mob au)

Warnings: dark elements such a mob business and intimidation, spanking, threats., choking. More to be added as they become relevant. You know what I write typically so you know what to expect.

Thank you all for the encouragement and I hope you enjoy.❤️

Bucky keeps you close as you slip your hand free of the biting leather and hiss. He fists your hair in hand and yanks your head back, swaying you with him tauntingly. The strength you cloud see before in his thick fingers and the bulge of his neck is now firm against you. You feel it coursing through him, taut in the belt wound around your neck.

You bat your last, still clawing at the buckle with one hand as your other presses to the chest of his jacket You stand on tip toes as he snickers and draws the leather even tighter. You cough and choke in shock.

“Bucky…” you rasp, “please–”

“Shhh, baby, I’m just having some fun,” he keeps your hand clamped in his hand, “you got such a pretty neck. I always liked that about you. Could always see my hands around it. You think it fits them perfect, huh?”

You whimper and snatch your hand away from your neck, wheezing as you slip your hands under his jacket, feeling the satin of his shirt and the hard muscles beneath. For a man his age, he should be proud. You can’t help but feel how finely corded his flesh is.

“Bucky,” you gulp out again and let a hand crawl up his collar, grazing his neck and the soft trim along his chin, “pl–” you touch his jaw and frame the square angle, “daddy.”

He tilts his head at the last word and the belt slackens, just slightly. Your eyes blur with the rise of tears throttled from you. You shakily pet his cheek and push yourself against him. Your heart hammers with adrenaline and fear. He’s a dangerous man but you were raised by a dangerous man.

“S-sorry, I’m sorry,” you croak, “please, daddy–”

“Don’t you start that game with me,” he warns as he leans in, hot breath fanning over you, “I know what you are, sweetheart, a spoiled little brat.”

You pout and let your other hand trail down from his chest, feeling along the buttons of his shirt and slipping lower. You cup him through his pants and arch your feet higher. You slide your hand around the back of his head, tugging on his grip behind yours.

“You talk a big game, old man,” you taunt.

“Do I? Cause I’m pretty sure you’re holding onto that big game.”

You squeeze him, the rigid bulge in his pants twitching as you do. You trace up his zipper and push it down slowly, exhaling as you hover your lips before his. His nose touches yours as he’s lured in by the heat of your gaze.

You pinch the front of his pants, unhooking his fly with two fingers and tease along the top of his briefs. You feel his stomach clench as your lips curl and you press them to his. He purrs in surprise and the belt loosens further.

His tongue meets yours in an impassioned swirl, hungry, insatiable, searching for more. You hum around him as you turn him towards the bed. He retreats slowly, hanging on lightly to the tail of the belt as you push your hand past the elastic. You grip his veiny length and he parts you grunt at the ceiling.

“Fuck, sweetheart, who knew a bit of tough love would get you so worked up?” He puffs.

You urge him back and he lets you shove him down onto the foot of the mattress. He bounces as you follow him, tugged by the leather still looped around you. You climb onto his lap and swallow the chatter in your teeth. You’ve pretended with men before, they’re all a bit more boring without their clothes on.

You straddle him and push him down onto his back, bending over him as you crush your mouth against his again. You pump him easily, long strokes that have him shuddering. You nibble his lower lip as you grind your hips against him, closing your grip until he groans.

His hands come up to frame your waist as he pushes his chest out and digs his thumbs into you.

“Tell me what you want from me, daddy?” You taunt, “my mouth…” you lick his cheek, “or maybe you just want me to play with you a little.” You run your hand up and down again, “oh, I don’t mind that,” your hand crawls down to fondle his sack, “you like that?”

“Fuck,” his hands fall to your ass and he kneads.

You lean into his ear, his beard brushing against you coarsely. You giggle and nuzzle him as you whisper, “you forget that you took my panties, daddy?”

He snarls as he gropes you, his hand crawling down to feel beneath your ass. He tickles your exposed cunt and you gasp. You push yourself up as you grab his dick again, pumping him to his tip as you watch the lewd motion beneath his briefs. You pull him above the fabric and bite your lip.

“Oh, daddy, you really are a monster,” you trill, “think I can take it all.” You pinch his bases and wiggle his dick before you, comparing it to your pelvis, “you’re gonna break me in half. Aren’t you?”

“Oh, fuck, princess, you know I–”

Your grip forms a vice around him and your other fist collides with his adam’s apple as it bobs. He coughs and his body constricts as you let go and roll off of him. You’re quick to swipe up the end of the belt as you spin to your feet and twist around. You barrel towards the door and swing it open as you hear him sputtering.

“Fuck!” He rasps as you race into the hall, “catch her!”

You dodge the man to your left and continue on, holding onto the belt to keep it from snagging. You get to the stairs and slide to a halt as another man appears at the top. You huff and lift the belt over your head. You pull it taut around your hand and flail it, snapping it towards the man.

“Get the fuck outta my way,” you demand, “how dare you? This is my daddy’s house–”

You whip the leather again and it barely misses the man. As he steps back, you go to plunge forward down the stairs but the belt catches and you’re suddenly pulled backwards by your hand. You’re dragged around to face Bucky as he clutches the long end.

“You done it now,” he growls, “I promise you, I am gonna fucking break you in half. Right in your daddy’s bed.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #the happy couple #mcu #marvel #captain america #winter soldier #mob au #au #avengers #series

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gibbysupremeacyisreal · 2 years

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𝐓𝐗𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

(gender neutral) ' I want for all time to fill the spaces between your fingers with mine ' - JS Parker

requested:: by @jjunbug ! ty for requesting!! (fluff)

𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍 - waking up to him staring into ur soul<3 - definitely helps you with homework :,) - building legos together - watching marvel movies repeatedly - sending reaction memes of himself lmao - I feel like he likes plants lmao so you would have a bunch of plants and they'll all have names - definitely the kind of person to say "I can't change the weather" when you say ur cold but then eventually give you his jacket

𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌𝐆𝐘𝐔 - mimicking yeonjuns verse in blue hour - calling him emo - singing the abcs out loud for you when ur washing ur hands💀 - writes his initials on HIS food (leftovers etc) - makes fun of you 24/7 and you doing it back (never means it, it's just his humour) - for Halloween you guys do couples costumes but he's always the female (kristoff and Anna, padme and anakin etc) - threatening to force feed you if you say ur not hungry

𝐇𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐀𝐈 (my bias so I might go a lil all out) - "tHaTs kIndA sUs tHo...." - repeatedly dying in minecraft trying to impress you (mf will literally walk off a cliff) - literally gives you his photocard so when he's on tour you "remember him" LIKE MF UR NOT DEAD??? - belly rubs <33 - both having plushy obsessions - trying to learn a language together on duolingo but he's scared of the bird - pretends ur in a restaurant when he cooks for you (hands you a menu with one thing on it lmao) - watches horror movies bc he thinks he won't get scared then almost pees his pants so you have to give him forehead kisses or he'll "have ptsd" - random sound affects (saying vroom when he walks past you, doing the drum and cymbal things after you tell jokes, saying bonk if you guys accidentally run into eachother)

𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐍��𝐔𝐍 - pushing on ur sinuses when you have a headache ( *sobs*) - pinching his cheeks and him going 🤨😟😐😊 when you do it (in that order) - happy dancing when you make him food - draws mustaches on you when ur asleep - stealing eachothers clothes - " feel 😈 like 👍 cinderella ✨️ naega❗️byeonhae🤞 " - trying to teach you tiktok dances

𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍 - it's giving bfg (big friendly giant lmao) - poking his dimples - falls asleep by watching you asleep bc it's relaxing - randomly claps for you - playing with his ears (They r so cute idk😭) - "BYE GUYS HI LADIES 💋" - cries during studio ghilbi movies but laughs at horror movies???

#txt beomgyu #tomorrow by together #txt #yeonjun #choi yeonjun #taehyn #txt fluff #txt imagines #soobin #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fluff #txt soft hours

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entropical-punch · 2 years

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A Matter of Convenience

Reader and Levine have some fun at the 24-hour mart they always seem to find each other at.

@rotworld i hope you enjoy my first ever fic lol

Warnings: 18+, semi-public sex, rough sex, degradation, whoever is on shift should probably be fired

The bells tied to the door knob jingle as you push your way into the convenience store. They echo through the shop, full of food, devoid of people. You approach the register, rest your fingers on the countertop, and take a deep breath.

“Is anyone back there? I’d like to buy a lottery ticket,” you call out into the back of the shop.

Your voice sounds too loud and sharp as it bounces off the dingy walls and scuffed linoleum around you. The only response you get is the hum of the AC and the drum of the rain from outside.

Ok. Great. You can be patient.

You bend down, untie and retie your laces. You unzip and rezip your jacket. You count up to ten and then back down to one. You check your watch again.

You turn away to the door, ready to leave, when the bells jingle.

There’s someone standing there in the doorway, water blowing in from outside, splashing onto the tile below.

Speak of the man with eyes like the devil.

Levine stands at the entrance, shaggy black hair plastered to his forehead, soaked and dripping down his face. He’s pinned you there with his gaze, as cold and dark as the storm outside.

“We always seem to find ourself here, huh?” A small grin creeps along his jaw, barely reaching the rest of his face. He pulls out his wallet, yellow-stained fingers twitching around it.

You nod your head in response and turn back to face the counter. You’re still in shock you’ve managed to run into him, here, again. You can almost hear Rex telling you to “never, ever, talk to that fucker again or I’ll break your fucking legs, you hear me?” and Jay musing that “you must be such a glutton for punishment if you decide to see him again. Are you saying you want to be punished, again?”

You shiver at the threat of what might happen if you stay here.

“What’s wrong? Don’t wanna talk to me?”

You also can’t help but be afraid of what might happen if you leave.

“I gotta get home soon, sorry,” you manage to respond.

He moves closer, shoes squelching in the puddles underneath him.

“Why? Gotta get home to Rex and Jay?”

He must’ve seen you jump at the mention of their names.

“No, I just, look, it’s late. Sorry,” you stutter out, turning back towards the register so he can’t see your face can’t betray your thoughts.

“I’d believe you, but we’ve been out much later,” he muses, reaching a hand out to feel the side of your shirt, press into your hips, just above your jeans. “And it’s already pretty late. The store attendant’s probably asleep in the back, you know.”

His back is now pressing into you; his mouth ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Besides, didn’t you want to see me again?”

You shiver again, before he pushes you down onto the counter, pressing your face into the glass. His fingers, smelling like tobacco leaves, wrap around your throat.

He chuckles. “Well, you can’t really see me now, but that doesn’t matter to a slut like you, huh?”

You can’t help but grind up a bit into the point where’s he got you pinned, your core brushing against the growing hardness in his pants.

“So you agree, huh? You are such a perfect little slut,” he growls, palming your ass with his other hand. He pulls down your pants, just a little, just enough to leave a smack on your bare skin and see the red mark start to form from it.

“The others hit you like that, right? They probably go a lot harder,” he muses, raising his hand again to hit you. You tremble in anticipating. You’ve been in pain like this before, but with Levine, there’s this stillness that almost makes everything worse.

His hand never comes down.

“But I’m not gonna be like the others, even though that’s what you want, you desperate, cock-hungry, stupid little whore.”

His hand instead finds your entrance, fingers rough and calloused as they draw whimpers and moans from your mouth, breath fogging up the glass underneath you. He scissors you open, carless to whoever might walk through the door next.

“You gonna cum from my fingers? Gonna cum right in this filthy gas station?”

You whimper back, his fist squeezed around your throat so hard that’s all you can manage to say.

He takes the hand away from your neck. From the rustling of fabric and the wet noises you hear behind you, you know he’s stroking his cock to the sight of you bent over the countertop, watching you drool all over it as your eyes roll back into your head.

He fingers work faster, rubbing at your sex in heavy motions. You’re so close, you’re gonna-

“Want Rex and Jay to see what a good little cum dumpster you can be for me?”

That hits you harder than Levine’s earlier spanking, goes right to the pit in your stomach and the heat rising in your core. Everything he’s doing to you comes crashing in, leaving you light-headed and panting.

He grunts, pumps his hand up and down a few times, and paints the small of your back white with his cum.

You did what he said you were going to do: you just came all over his hand in the same place you buy cigarettes and cheap bear. And now you’re lying here, out of breath and sticky all over.

He backs away, grabs a rag off the counter and wipes at your back. He pulls your jeans up and places a kiss on the top of your head, the gentleness of it feeling almost worse than the degradation earlier.

“When you’re ready, I’ll take you back to my place. You can wash up there.”

You mumble back, pulling yourself away from the cool glass and onto your feet. You wobble a bit, trying to not slip on the rain-slick floor.

You grab his outstretched hand and follow him outside. You can’t remember what you need to buy. Couldn’t have been that important anyways.

What you do remember, is that that you’re supposed to kick back with Rex and Jay tomorrow. Guess Levine will have to come too.

#we pariahs #levine #rotpeach #fic #ns/fw

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imaginedreamwrite · 2 years

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Insatiable Habits: Part 7

It had been minutes, just moments since Andy had ripped around the corner and came to quick and sudden stop feet from Curtis’ motorbike. He appeared with the sullen and fierce expression that had been penetrative as it was aimed squarely on the werewolf who had huffed in return and crossed his arms over his chest. Neither creature was afflicted by the cold that had swept through the air as the sun had gone down and the temperature had dropped with the threat of sleet; however, you were cold.

And you were placed directly on the path between a vicious werewolf dangerously close to his natural-born enemy and a vampire that had seemed to be blinded by rage.

Curtis was leaning against his bike with his ankles crossed as his legs were extended before him, and the black beanie on his head was pulled down to the point where his eyebrows had been hidden by the worn knit. His shirt was twisted around his biceps as the material flexed and stretched with every straining moment that he had glowered at Andy. His blue eyes were rimmed with a potent mix of gold and black, the seemingly natural colour of his ‘wolfs’ eyes as he fixated his attention on the vampire, never once being able to look away.

Andy was just as angered and triggered by Curtis. His sides clenched his hands, and his jaw was flexing with every grit of his teeth as the moment between the two had only grown in intensity and hatred, the creatures that had been raised to hate each other were standing feet away, with the illumination of the headlights and the hazy glow of the moon tucked behind clouds casting an eery picture of the standoff.

“Well, this has been fun,” you had muttered, drawing your arms out of the jacket you had taken from Curtis to return it, “but if the two of you are done staring each other down, this particular human is hungry and cold-“

“I’ll drive you home,” Curtis had growled under his breath, his ever-sharp teeth flashing as his lips curled, and yet Andy hadn’t flinched or shown any glimmer of fear.

“Some mate you are, dog.” Andy had bit, his fangs growing as he hissed and took a step toward you, his fingers flexing as he balled his fists, “Don’t even know that my tiny human can’t go home. She’s being evicted.”

“Because of you, no doubt.” Curtis had spat his insult and his blame at Andy before he had looked your way, his eyes wide and tension radiating off of him. “You can stay with me-“

“She will not.” Andy’s foot slid against the wet concrete as he had inhaled sharply, his fingers uncurling as he addressed Curtis with indignation. “My mate will not be staying in a tepid hellhole when she could-“

“Turn into a blood bank for an overgrown blood-sucking leech?” Curtis had fired another insult, the game between them growing tiring and your hunger demanding to be sated. You had rolled your eyes and had opened your mouth to speak, words forming on your tongue before you had snapped your jaw shut and taken three steps toward Curtis’ bike and set his jacket back down on the back of the seat, the sleeves brushing against the tailpipe. As you had stepped away and turned your head between Andy and Curtis, the two creatures still happy to stare each other down, you had finally broken your silence.

“Are you done, Edward and Jacob?” Your voice was dripping with condemnation and while Curtis understood the joke you had attempted to make, the permanent scowl on his face had done nothing but grew.

His chest had vibrated with a growl that was building, the stinging bite that had so quickly encased every word spoken toward Andy was just another piece of the whole. Curtis and Andy were not just enemies, they were also assured in their belief that you were each of their mates, and the idea of having to share with someone similar to a dog or a mosquito was laughable at best.

“I am staying with Andy,” you had addressed Curtis and Andy simultaneously, wishing to get this pissing contest over as quickly as possible to move on with your life and find stability within four walls, “I’m being evicted and someone is watching me.”

“My home is safer,” Andy had spoken in such a manner that the word ‘safer’ had seemed misconstrued and had aligned with ‘better’ or more ‘luxurious,’ “you need an invitation to enter the home.”

“Only if you’re a vampire.” Curtis had added, his eyes flashing as he pushed himself to stand up straight, his hands reaching for the leather jacket you had set there, and as his hands grasped it, you had wondered if he would attempt to give it back to you. “Are we still set for Friday night? We have a guide-“

“Friday?” Ari had questioned, raising a brow in your direction as his lips twitched with the brimming questions that had not yet been given life.

“We’re going to check out an abandoned breeding den. We have a guide, so we don’t get lost.” You slipped your hands into the pockets of your olive green canvas coat and shivered when the wind picked up, the gusts slamming against your cheeks and bringing with it the threat of sleet. “Apparently-“

“They’re like mazes.” Andy had spoken for you and motioned back toward his vehicle that had been left running, the headlights drawing attention to the start of the precipitation that had begun to fall in heady flakes. “You can get lost easily.”

“Friday works, Curtis.” You had looked back at him, turning your head to the left to see the last lingering gaze he was sending you before you had addressed him once more. “Have a safe full moon.”

With that, you had started walking toward the vehicle, your boots dampening as you had stepped through a small puddle on the concrete. You had approached the passenger’s side and pulled on the handle, the sleek black door cracking open and a blast of heat pouring from inside the vehicle. A burst of heat had poured through the vents in the vehicle, the hot air that had been blasting with the quick turn of the dial had been the only unnatural sound that could have been heard as the two creatures had stared each other down with equally terrifying and aggravated expressions on their faces.

When they had made no motions to move, you had leaned over the console into the driver’s seat and pressed your palm into the centre of the steering wheel and laid on the horn repeatedly until they had broken eye contact, and Andy had turned to face you.

“If you’re done comparing penises,” you voiced your frustration, knowing they could both hear you, “there is a human that is starving and exhausted and so done with your bullshit!”

There was half a beat of silence before Andy had completely turned away from Curtis and walked back to the vehicle, and popped open the door. A rush of cold air had met the heat, and you had reached forward to turn the air down, your fingers grasping the dial and turning gently.

“Are you done with your pissing contest?” You questioned scathingly, your stomach growling.

“I’ll get you food little mate.” Andy had cooed sympathetically, reaching out to rest his hand against your belly, a smirk bursting on his face when you smacked his hand away from you.

“Keep your hands to yourself.”

The path before the house was made of red bricks that had been worn down over time and semi-bleached by the scorch of the sun in the summer and yet they hadn’t been any impressive beautiful or eclectic as they led the way to the front doors of Andy’s home. The front door was nestled between a set of four columns that had supported the roof overhanging a small open porch that had perfectly housed a single wooden swing and a small bistro set to the left. As you had six steps that would take you to the porch, you had stopped short of the swing and placed your hand upon the wood, feeling the smooth texture beneath your hands, unknowingly pushing the swing once while waiting for Andy to open the door.

“I have spent time there,” he spoke from behind you, taking the same steps that you had to get to the deep brown stained door that had contrasted against the dark grey panel siding of the house.

Andy had stepped before the door and entered a code, much like the one that had kept the werewolf’s estate secure from any outsiders that had not belonged there.

“Do I need your permission to come in?” The question was softer than you had anticipated and it was quiet, almost indistinguishable to your ears, however, Andy had heard you perfectly.

“You never have to ask permission to enter.” Andy had reassured you as he held the door open for you and let you pass first. “This is your home, mate.”

“I’m not your mate,” your eyes met as you passed and you held each other’s gaze while you moved, “and this is temporary.”

“Welcome home, hellcat.” Andy had shamelessly smiled as he closed the door behind him with a soft click, the door locked and secured.

The front entranceway of his Bostonian home was almost as wide as it was tall, with sleek floors that extended from the front entryway back toward the dining set that stood before two French double doors leading to a covered porch in the back. From where you stood you could see the same kind of clear glass that was in the restaurant you had that ‘date’ in. The clear glass that had protected vampires from the harmful rays of the sun, and even beyond the covered porch was a massive garden illuminated by glow-in-the-dark stones and luminous flowers.

There were two staircases in the front entryway, both staircases lined with thick wooden failings and the same polish floor that led to the second floor of this massive house. There was an impeccable design that was followed throughout the house of clean and crisp edges and timeless pieces that had made the entire place seem as if it was entirely ageless and modern.

“There’s more than enough room for you to enjoy yourself, mate.” Andy had taken the space behind you and slipped his chilled hands on your hips, squeezing you lightly as his lips traced along the edge of the collar he had given you, the tender scrape of his fangs across your sensitive skin had ripped an airy and hitched breath from you.

“Why do you need such a large place?” You had spoken slowly, attempting to regain control of yourself and your nerves while he was working his lips and teeth against your flesh, pleased with every sound you had made.

“I enjoy the space,” Andy’s answer had seemed to be a lie, however, he would not and had not let you fixate on it.

Instead, he had gently grasped your hand and turned it over, pressing his lips to your palm as he kissed your flesh over and over until it had seemed that you were pliant enough for him to lead you toward the staircase on the left.

The first step made was hesitant, and you were unwilling at first motion, to follow him up the stairs and further into his home despite knowing that this would be your place until you could find something on your own. It would be a shared home, and the two of you would be close together for a while, though there was still some hesitation in your body, some unwilling part of you that could not, would not move.

“You can come up. It’s okay.” Andy had gently tugged on your hand and you had rested the other on the railing, feeling the soft and smoothened woods beneath your palm as you walked up the steps, taking the curved staircase further until you had reached the second floor and stood in a hall that had branched off into two distinct sections, both sides of the mansion equally as large and dignified.

“There is a study, a library if you could call it that, to the left at the end of the hall, it is a two-story room and the door will take you to the top floor, and a staircase nearby will take you down. The door next to the library will take you to a guest suite with a bathroom attached, though it is not as nice as the master-“ Andy had skillfully and quietly slipped an arm around your waist as he had gracefully turned you to the right and began leading you down the other side of the hallway.

“There are five rooms and seven bathrooms, the master suite faces the garden and there is a private promenade deck That wraps around the back half of the house.” Andy had drawn his hand further up your side and stretched his fingers along with your canvas jacket, easily detecting one of the weapons you had slipped in earlier, his eyes brightening as his lips twitched, a smirk threatening to form on his handsome face.

“The bedroom you’re staying in,” Andy had slipped his hand back down to the small of your back as he opened a door near the end of the hall and the breathtaking and impressive bedroom that was three times the size of two rooms in the compound, was laid out before you.

The bedroom was just as immaculate as the rest of the house, and your attention was immediately drawn toward the bed that was centred in the room. The frame was a four-poster made of solid wood the colour of a moonless night, with curved notches at the top that had been securing the circular wooden beams that had connected the sides of the frame to the headboard and footboard.

There were two nightstands to match the bed frame, the continuation of the dark wood was carried out in the double doors that you assumed had belonged to a walk-in closet.

“There’s an attached bath with a shower and a tub,” Andy had departed your side and moved toward the double doors, yanking softly to reveal the deep-set walk-in closet that had been filled to the brim with clothes, shoes and handbags, all meant for women.

“Why do you have so much?” You were questioning and inquisitive as you inched closer to him, briefly studying the clothes that had covered every square inch of the hangars in the closet, and every inch of the shoe racks built into the wall.

“For you, little mate.” Andy had seemed pleased with himself; boastful over what he had accomplished and what he could give you.

“Okay..? Why..?” You pondered further, making a quick observation that most of the clothes would have been high-end.

“Human women like to change often don’t they?” Andy had gazed down at you, blue eyes questioning in return.

“Oh you sweet, deluded vampire…” you raised your hand and pat his cheek twice. “You don’t have much experience with humans do you..?”

“Excuse me,” he had grabbed your hand and rested it against his chest, offended over your tone of voice, “I am older than you, brat.”

“Just how old are you, and why would you think this,” you waved your hand in front of the closet, addressing the mass amount of clothes, “would be something I need..?”

“According to google-“

“You did not-!” You laughed loudly, your shoulders shaking as your body went through the motions of a deep, and long-lasting tear-jerking laugh. “You googled-“

“I hardly find this funny. I also had to go shopping at a human grocery store and-“

“You have human food?” You had started to calm down, waving your hands at your face to dry your tears caused by laughter. “Seriously?”

“I wasn’t going to let you starve-“ when your stomach had growled incessantly, you had known it was time to listen.

You had turned on your heel and shuffled out of the room and down the hall to the staircase where you had placed your hands on the railing as you sat down on the wood and slid from the top of the staircase to the bottom.

“To the right-“ Andy had barely gotten the words out before you took a running start and slid across the sleek floors, almost unable to stop as you entered the immaculate kitchen that had looked completely untouched.

“How much food did you buy?” You had walked to the refrigerator and yanked open the doors, bearing witness to the food that was set inside and almost randomly mixed in with things that should and didn’t need to be kept cool.

“You’re a hot mess,” you called over your shoulder before you reached in and grabbed items that could be taken out, and set them on the island behind you.

You had hummed as you worked, taking the time to reorganize what you could while you could, and then you had caught the sight of a sealed clear container with small labelled bags of blood at the back, your lips forming a smirk.

“Instead of iced coffee, you have a taste of iced blood.” You laughed at your joke, promising your stomach you would feed it soon.

“Is it enough? Are you satisfied? I have a chef coming tomorrow to cook food ahead of time. There was a…published journal-“

“Published journal?” You stopped and looked at him, your eyebrows furrowed as you gazed at the confused vampire.

“A published journal about ‘meal prep’ from a mother-“ Andy was cut off by the sound of you laughing again, the air of innocence about him when he was dealing with these subjects was oddly cute.

“You got advice from a mommy blogger.” You had finished doing your task and then you’d reached for a pre-made salad and tucked it under your arm.

“You have too much stuff,” you commented looking him over once and then you reached for a bottle of water and closed the fridge with a nudge of your hip, “I’m eating in my room and then I’m going to bed.”

Andy had slowly nodded his head, happy enough to watch you taking what he had bought. He was happy to watch you start to walk away, though you had quickly turned around and looked at him sternly.

“If you try and pull some Edward Cullen shit on me and watch me when I sleep-“ you pointed your finger at him, a promise of violence hanging in the air, “-and I will shove a stake through your heart.”

“Understood.”

52 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

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Burn The Witch 12 - Bad Surprise [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Sometimes plans have to change.

Series Masterlist

Every job required something from people, and your job was no different.

Being a spy was not a conventional profession, everyone knew that. You were expected to be on the move all the time, be a good liar, be a good fighter, be whatever the job told you to.

And most important of all; never show fear, which you were usually fine with. You had learned long ago how to keep your calm in times of crisis. You had even managed to keep your calm facade when your last mission required you to play Russian Roulette with a target in order to keep your cover.

But this? This was something else.

Bucky cleared his throat to stifle a laugh as he looked down at you.

“Is it just me or are you using me as a human shield against a peacock right now?”

Your eyes snapped up at his for a moment before you turned your gaze to the peacock again, taking a subtle step to Bucky’s right to keep him between you and the animal.

Coming to the zoo was his idea, and you thought it could be a fun experience. You had never been to a zoo before, and it would count as one of the old times dates, so you were almost giggly by the time you got there.

Right until now.

“I think peacocks don’t have souls.”

“Alright.” Bucky sipped his coffee while you tried to ignore the fear bubbling at the pit of your stomach, eyeing the peacock that walked around the area behind the fences.

“I’m serious,” you insisted “What if it attacks me?”

“It’s not going to attack you Y/N.”

“It could,” you said, “It looks like it wants to attack me.”

The peacock fanned out its feathers all of a sudden and let out a squawk, making you jump out of your skin.

“Fuck!” the curse left your lips and Bucky’s eyebrows rose, an amused grin pulling at his lips.

“Sorry!” you said quickly, “Sorry, I…I don’t trust peacocks.”

“You got mugged in a dark alley and got shot, and a bird is where you draw the line?”

Correction, you were once held at gunpoint by the Italian mafia and peacocks were still where you drew the line.

“That’s not a bird.”

“….Peacocks are birds.”

“No, that’s the devil looking like a bird,” you said, “In-in bird shape. Bird shaped demon.”

“Okay, how about we see some other less threatening animal?”

“Let me check—oh my God Bucky they have sharks, I love sharks!” you said, waving the brochure in his face and he pulled his brows together.

“Sharks fall under the less threatening animal category?”

“Of course they do!” you said, looking at the brochure before looking around, “I think the aquarium is over there, let’s go.”

You grabbed his hand to entwine your fingers with his as you both started walking towards the huge blue structure.

“So I feel like I shouldn’t ask because I know you can’t exactly tell me the details,” you said, “But you’re not going on another mission soon, are you? This week?”

“I don’t think so,” he said, “Why?”

“I’m kind of planning something.”

He tilted his head, “What are you planning?”

“Not a club, relax.” you said, “Although I find it quite ironic that you’re this unstoppable brave superhero with super strength who gets intimidated by dancing.”

“I’m not intimidated…” he grumbled under his breath, making you giggle.

“Whatever you say,” you sang, and reached the entrance of the huge building and you pulled your hand out of his.

“Excuse me sir, is the aquarium still open?” you asked the security guard by the door and a small smirk appeared on his lips.

“Yes but it is closing in ten minutes sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?

Jesus Christ….

You smiled politely at him, batting your lashes.

“Oh—“ you took a look at the sign, “I just want to see the killer shark and we’ll be out. In five minutes. Please?”

He eyed you up and down but seemed to snap out of it when Bucky cleared his throat behind you as if warning him, making the guy gawk between you two.

Even you had to admit you seemed like a quite unusual couple. You were wearing a short white sundress with ruffled sleeves and sweetheart neckline with your hair loose while Bucky looked as if he was there to kill someone, a complete opposite of you with his dark jeans and black leather jacket as well as leather gloves.

You didn’t even have to turn your head to know that he was glaring at the guard before the guy shifted his weight, then stepped aside.

“Enjoy.”

“Thank you!” you said, grabbing Bucky’s hand as you led him inside. He followed you without any objections whatsoever, in complete silence as the sight of blue filled your vision along with many fish swimming behind the glass.

“You don’t even see it, do you?” he asked softly and you pulled your brows together.

“Hm?”

“Does anyone ever say no to you?”

You approached the label by the glass, “You do.”

“Do I?”

“All the time,” you nodded, still reading the label but your head shot up when you felt him tug you by the hand. A giggle escaped from your lips as he turned you around so that you could look up at him, then wrapped his arm around you to scoop you up, making you squeal.

“Bucky!”

“All the time?”

“Put me down!” you said, your laughter echoing in the empty aquarium halls and he tilted his head.

“Not until you explain yourself,” he teased you, “All the time?”

“Sometimes, sometimes!” you said quickly, “Very rare times I might add!”

“Mm hm, I thought so.”

“If you drop me, I swear to God—“ you started but was cut off when he pulled you into a kiss, making you wrap your arms around his neck. He took a step with you still in his embrace and you gasped as you felt your back hit the thick glass, but every single protest you could think of seemed to disappear from your mind as you lost yourself in the kiss. You raked your fingernails over the nape of his neck, making his grip around you tighter-

Then someone coughed.

Bucky pulled back instantly and you turned your head to see another rather annoyed technician leaning on her hip, watching you with her brows raised.

“Aquarium is about to close,” she said, pointing at you, “Take it elsewhere.”

Bucky put you down and you tried to fix the skirt of your dress, trying to look presentable.

“Sorry!” you said as Bucky mumbled an apology beside you as well, and the technician shook her head and walked away, talking about how she wasn’t getting paid enough for this. You covered your face and let out a whine but Bucky chuckled, causing you to lower your hands to stare up at him.

“Why is this entertaining for you?” you exclaimed and he held your wrist, gently steering you to the exit.

“Come on.”

“We can never come here again, ever.” you insisted as you followed him outside. It didn’t escape your notice that he bumped his shoulder into the security guard’s quite hard, almost knocking him over on your way out and your jaw dropped.

“That was mean!”

“Nah, he had it coming. Are you hungry?”

“But you could get in trouble. Besides, he was a nice guy—“

“Uh huh, a nice guy who was ogling you.”

You pulled your brows together, pretending to be confused, “Oh I’m sure you misunderstood.”

He tilted his head and pulled you closer to wrap his arm around your waist, then brushed his lips against yours, making you sigh.

“Bucky, it was mean and you can’t just kiss me to distract me—”

“I can try,” he murmured to your lips before kissing you again and you looked up at him when he pulled back with a grin.

“Fine,” you admitted, still pouting. “I’m hungry. Starving actually, let’s eat something.”

***

You were finding it harder and harder to convince yourself it was time to go home after every date with Bucky.

Scratch that, you were finding it harder and harder not to invite him upstairs.

But of course, you would have to report it back to the General and discuss the further strategies with him and for some reason, it felt more of a betrayal than this whole thing.

Surprisingly enough, it was something you wanted and not something you would will yourself to do because of the mission. There was no denying it, he was an attractive guy and you really liked spending time with him and you kept having dreams about him and whenever you were with him you had this lightness in your mind, as if you were a different person.

A better person, maybe.

You shook your head at your thoughts and left your apartment to knock on Keith’s door.

“It’s me, open up.”

You heard footsteps before he opened the door and a boyish smile pulled at his lips at the sight of milkshakes in your hand.

“Jesus, finally!”

“I made it at home, can’t promise it’s good,” you said as you walked past him into his apartment and stepped into the living room, “What are you watching?”

“James Bond,” he grinned at you, “Hey, have you ever tried milkshake with gin?”

“No?”

“Me neither, let’s try it.” He said, taking the big glasses from you to pour gin into them. You sat on the couch and took a look at the screen.

“How many times have you watched this again?”

“Like a hundred,” he handed you your glass and you took a sip.

“Not bad,” you commented, putting your feet up on the coffee table. He sat beside you, keeping his eyes on the screen.

“What did you do today?”

“Had a date.”

“With Barnes?”

“Yeah. At the zoo.”

“He took you to the zoo?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And peacocks are fucking scary,” you muttered, “And hey, we learned that Bucky is the jealous type.”

“The guy was dating people back at 40s, I could tell you that much myself.” He snorted, “Chloe says you went on a mission with Julian?”

You slipped a little on the couch, “He’s an asshole.”

“I know. Is he really that bad in bed?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Nah as much as I hate to admit, he’s pretty good. Unfortunately.”

“So top or bottom?”

“He goes either way to be honest, that comment was more about me.”

“About you?”

“Yeah, I like to be on top.”

“Suddenly everything about you makes sense,” he murmured and you took another sip of your milkshake.

“Don’t try that with Barnes though, the guy is from 1940s. He’s probably used to missionary only, you don’t want to give him a heart attack,” he wiggled his brows, making you scoff.

“Shut up.”

“Chloe is right, maybe you should go full on vintage on that when the time comes.”

You turned to look at him.

“Speaking of Chloe,” you said, “Anything you would like to tell me?”

Keith’s grin faded slightly and he shifted his weight, “Like what?”

“Bringing her coffee, taking her out to the field…” you trailed off, “What gives, man? I thought we had a deal.”

“We never had a deal,” he defended himself, “You slammed me back during training years ago at the academy and told me not to even think about it when you saw me looking at her.”

“No,” you shook your head, “Five years ago, in Ireland. That undercover job, the one that almost got you killed? We made a deal.”

He swallowed thickly, looking down at the milkshake before taking a sip. “Y/N…”

“Keith, you can’t,” you insisted, “She deserves a normal life, a normal family and kids and a dog and stuff.”

“I know,” he ran a hand over his face, “I know.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re a spy,” you said, “You said it yourself, spies die like flies.”

“Not all of them,” he said, “General is still alive. He has a family.”

“Yeah, one in a hundred,” you said, “Face it. That’s a very low possibility for us.”

“You don’t think you’ll get to grow old and have a family and all that?”

You pulled your brows together.

“No,” you said, “Of course not. I’m probably going to die in one of these missions.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“Keith, I can’t have any of those,” you said, “I can’t. I…it’s impossible.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” you muttered, “I made my choice ages ago.”

“Y/N,” he sat up straighter, “Do you want to?”

With a very bad timing, your imagination went overdrive and a strange scene flashed before your eyes. You laughing in Bucky’s arms, watching two kids playing in the garden-

You shook your head, trying to shake off the thoughts.

“I could never have that,” you stated simply, “You might love Chloe and you might also be lucky enough to have her love you but…it’s not the same with me.”

“I’d say Barnes loves you.”

A bitter smile pulled at your lips and you bit inside your cheek, taking another sip of your milkshake.

“He loves someone who doesn’t exist,” you managed to croak out, “He loves my cover. He could never love me.”

***

Spending the night at Keith’s and drowning your sorrows in gin and milkshake meant that you would have a killer hangover the next day. Unlike Keith, you didn’t have the luxury to sleep until the noon, seeing that you had a cover job to keep so for the whole day until noon, you walked around like a zombie.

Coffee helped though. Just a little.

Thankfully it was a slow day at the shop. After serving a couple of people, you had nothing to do other than seriously considering sticking your head in the freezer to get rid of the hangover.

“Long night?” Tara asked as she walked past you to put the straws into the cup and you nodded, groaning.

“Remind me not to drink, ever.”

“I make that promise to myself every Monday, does not seem to work.”

You chuckled, “Have you ever tried to mix gin into milkshakes?”

“No?”

“Don’t,” you shook your head as you helped her to move an empty milkshake container into the kitchen. “It’s a terrible idea and I’m experiencing the consequences of that mistake right now.”

“That sounds like a fun night though.”

“Fun night, terrible morning,” you let out a laugh as you walked out of the kitchen but as soon as you did, your eyes caught the sight of the man in the shop. Your smile was wiped off your face as the familiar anger filled your system.

Jesus Christ, this day sucks.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked and Julian had the audacity to shoot you a grin.

“Whoa cute outfit,” he said, eyeing you up and down, “Holy shit I didn’t even know I was into this whole thing, I’m having an epiphany.”

You looked over your shoulder to see if Tara was still in the kitchen, then turned to Julian.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was craving milkshakes,” he stated, “Hey, would you recommend Lavender Macaron?”

“Get the fuck out of here.”

“I think I’m gonna go with Lavender Macaron, makes me think of France,” he said, “Fun times.”

“Fun for you maybe.”

He shot you a look, “Come on Y/N, we didn’t leave the honeymoon suite for two days. That was the greatest-“ he lowered his voice, “Mission I’ve ever had.”

“You’re putting this entire operation in—“ you started but stopped talking as soon as Tara walked out of the kitchen. Julian raised his brows for a moment before smiling at her and you went under the counter to grab his arm.

“Y/N, is everything okay?”

“Just peachy,” you said as you dragged him out of the shop, and he heaved a sigh, following you.

“No I’m serious…” he said with a chuckle as soon as you both stepped outside, then motioned at the uniform, “This is something else.”

“Why are you here?”

“I heard that it was good, I did not think it was this good.”

“I’m seriously two seconds away from punching you.”

“How come you never dressed up like this for me when we were dating?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you insisted and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I was around.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Believe whatever you want,” he said, “Your shop has good rating, although I’m beginning to believe it has less to do with milkshakes and more about the waitresses.”

“Julian I swear to God—“ you started but you were cut off when someone cleared his throat, making both you and Julian turn your heads. Your stomach dropped as soon as you saw Bucky watching you two with a frown and you withdrew your hand from Julian’s arm.

“Bucky,” you breathed out, “Um-hi.”

“Hi,” he said without taking his eyes off Julian, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

He was trying to decide whether he was a threat to you.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I figured I could drop by,” he said, crossing his arms, “What’s going on?”

Fuck.

Fuck, you had no idea how to turn this around. Thankfully neither of you had said anything about the mission, so it was more than likely that Bucky just knew you knew each other, but other than that, your cover wasn’t blown.

“Nothing! Nothing at all, he’s just—“ you stammered, trying to come up with an explanation, “He’s um—“

“Oh come on Y/N, don’t be one of those secretive people,” Julian said, “You hate secrets. You’re Bucky, right? I heard about you.”

Bucky just raised his brows, his glare on him unwavering but even if it was quite chilling, Julian was a trained assassin just like you were, so he was used to it. Instead he curled his lips, looking between you before offering him his hand.

“I’m Julian,” he introduced himself, shooting you a grin as if you two shared an inside joke “The evil ex-boyfriend who’s gonna take her from you.”

Chapter 13

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #tfatws #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #bucky barnes x you #the falcon and the winter soldier

635 notes · View notes

mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Say You’re Sorry

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After a petty argument, Reader and Spencer spend weeks trying to get each other to say they’re sorry first Category: SMUT (18+) Warnings: Language, smut (fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, light choking) Word Count: 4.3k

Full Request: “...a smut about Like reader and spencer fight for something stupid, because both of them think are right, And maybe the fbi it has the annual gala of something and reader wears a *SUIT* with just a nice bra under the jacket, and spencer lost his mind.” —Anonymous

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one was so much fun to write! All of these requests have been, of course, but I just loved getting to write Spencer and Reader’s petty tactics and dialogue here 😂❤

***

It was stupid and they both knew it. Everyone in the office knew it, too.

But when two people who were always priding themselves on being right have been dating for years, stupid little arguments like that were bound to happen.

This time, though, Spencer and Y/N seemed to have taken it a little too far. For weeks now they haven't spoken unless it was bickering, and when it wasn't bickering, it was demanding the other person to admit they were sorry.

And now it was just a game.

The first round started when Y/N gave Spencer a cup of coffee as a gesture, a sign of good faith. She hadn't explicitly said sorry, though Spencer was willing to accept it as an apology anyway. The round ended, though, when he took a drink to find it completely bitter, not a grain of sugar to be found. She laughed, the sound somehow even more bitter than the coffee she'd given him, and left him with a prompt, "Gotcha."

Round two was a bit more evil, Spencer retaliating by changing all the settings in her car so that when she got in, everything would be the exact opposite of how she preferred it. She was always particular about how she had the air, the seats, the mirrors, and everything else set up in her car, and the day she got in it after work almost had her in tears of anger. First of all, her seat was set all the way back, which she found strange, but then after adjusting it she turned the car on, and the radio blasted intense techno music, which she always found annoying. She turned it all the way down after almost having a heart attack, suddenly very angry and confused, only to then notice that all the mirrors were adjusted as well.

But the tip of the iceberg was when she looked at the speedometer and noticed she was almost entirely out of gas. It certainly wouldn't be enough to get her home.

"What the actual fuck?" she yelled, only to jump again when Spencer knocked on her window.

"Looks like you're gonna have to take the train home with me."

It really was her only option, and she hated it. And he was so hopeful that it would get to her admit that she was sorry, that when they got to his apartment he would be able to convince her to come to bed with him and sleep it all off.

Turns out, he was sorely mistaken. She didn't talk to him the whole way there, and when they did manage to make it up to his apartment, Y/N locked him out of his bedroom and slept in his bed alone. No matter how many times he tried to convince her to let him in, she yelled back, "Say you're sorry, and we'll see if you deserve to sleep with me!"

But he wasn't going to give up that easily. So he gave up trying to reason with her, and stayed on the couch.

When he woke up, he was drenched in freezing cold water, cursing as Y/N stood over him with a smirk. "Mess with my car again, and it'll be something worse, Reid."

She never used his last name. She was doing it to taunt him, and it only made him angrier.

She left that morning, calling Emily for a ride and hoping she'd taught Spencer a lesson.

Unfortunately, no lessons had been learned. A few days later, he 'accidentally' bumped into her, spilling coffee all over her white blouse, and said 'oops,' in the least apologetic way ever.

Y/N scowled as she dabbed up the liquid, not even paying attention to him as she ranted about how pissed off she was and how childish her boyfriend was being.

"If you'd just man up and say you're sorry already, maybe I won't have to be such a bitch, but you're really getting on my fucking nerves..."

He was suspiciously quiet. So she looked up to catch him staring at her, a look in his eyes that she'd seen many a time. In fact, it had to be one of her favorite looks.

He was staring directly at her chest, where she'd unbuttoned a few buttons to get at more of the coffee that splashed on her shirt.

It was only a few seconds, and Spencer seemed to snap out of it rather quickly, giving her a wink before walking away completely.

She glared at him as he disappeared into another room, but in the back of her mind, a plan was already forming.

***

The Bureau was hosting a mandatory gala for a few agents who were retiring, and with the event coming up, Y/N knew it was the perfect opportunity to get Spencer's attention and maybe, just maybe, get him to finally apologize.

But that was all unbeknownst to him.

He knew she was going to show up on her own, because neither of them had stepped up to the plate to apologize, and truth be told, he wasn't sure how much more he could take. It had been about a week since he'd spilled his coffee all over her, and he couldn't stop thinking about her. Not that he never thought about her at all—she was his girlfriend, of course he thought about her—but after going weeks without getting to kiss her, touch her, or even just be around her when they weren't playing stupid, petty games with each other, Spencer was starting to think maybe they should just talk it out.

So that's what he decided. The gala would be a perfect opportunity to make a grand romantic gesture and admit that he missed her, that they were both being childish and he wanted to work it out.

All of that completely went out the window, though, the second she walked through the door.

The drink in his hand almost dropped to the floor. The only thing that even kept him standing upright was Derek's hold on him when he stumbled. And as if he didn't already know he was in trouble, Spencer heard his friend whistle lowly beside him.

"Kid, I think you better apologize, or I have a feeling you're gonna regret it..."

"No kidding," was all he responded with, his eyes still glued to his girlfriend from across the room.

She was wearing a pair of maroon suit pants and a matching jacket that held together at the middle by one button, exposing a lacy black bra underneath. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant updo, exposing more of her neck and chest as small pieces of hair framed the sides of her face. From far away he noticed her wearing some long silver earrings and a matching necklace that landed right above where curve of her breasts met her neck. She walked—no, glided—across the floor with heels that accented her every step with power.

She caught his eye, and though she was the most stunning, captivating woman he'd ever seen, the pure smugness that lit up her pretty features as she walked towards him made Spencer want to win. No romantic gestures, no giving in and talking it out... He wanted to see her beg for forgiveness.

It was a pretty hard task, though, considering the second she got closer and he searched her eyes, he almost crumbled beneath the sheer power they exuded. They gleamed at him as if to say, "You lose."

Everything was made even worse when she smiled at him like nothing was wrong, like they hadn't been playing childish pranks on each other all week. She leaned in and held onto his arms, giving him a sweet kiss on the jawline.

"Hi, babe," she chirped happily, and before she pulled away, she added into his ear with a whisper, "By the end of the night you're gonna be real sorry for last week..." It was low and seductive and pure evil. Spencer would have stumbled again had she not been holding onto his arm.

He wanted to think that Y/N surely wouldn't resort to using her seduction to get him to apologize, but that would be a flat-out lie. She knew exactly what she was doing.

But it wasn't going to work. He wouldn't let it. He couldn't let it.

He cleared his throat and led Y/N to the table they were staying at, trying his hardest to ignore the low burn that settled in his stomach.

But once again, that proved incredibly hard when she was sitting next to him all night, talking confidently with other agents and occasionally slipping her hand along his inner thigh to tease him. When no one was looking, she'd move it higher, lightly drawing circles along the inseam of his pants. And when he gripped her wrist under the table, leaning in to say lowly in her ear, "You better quit," she responded with a turn of the head and a kiss on the cheek, whispering right back, "Not until you say you're sorry."

She pulled back and they smiled at each other sweetly, right before she excused herself to go to the bathroom.

What she wasn't counting on was him following after her, catching her arm and pulling her into an empty storage closet before anyone could see. It all caught her completely by surprise, but even as the light switched on and she saw Spencer standing in front of her, a look of pure frustrated grief flashing across his features, she settled into another smug smile.

"Aw, what's wrong, babe?"

His eyes raked her up and down, and it was obvious how hungry he was for her. His hands reached out tentatively to touch her, and she let him. They settled on slipping under her suit jacket and practically burning handprints into the bare skin of her stomach.

"What's wrong?" he repeated, running his hands farther up her stomach and just below the bra. He could see his fingers peeking up through the jacket, and it made him absolutely feral. "You're a fucking tease, that's what's wrong."

Y/N cooed like she would at a crying baby. "Aw, and who's fault is that, hmm?"

"I'm not gonna say it." His eyes flicked up to meet hers, and still she was unwavering.

"I'm not gonna say it either."

"Well... Maybe I'll just have to fuck it out of you, then."

She would have been lying if she said she hadn't lost a little self control upon hearing those words come from his mouth. Which is why she challenged him yet again, silently hoping that he'd make true on his promise.

"I'd like to see you try..."

They stared at each other then, and for a moment Y/N thought he would actually do it. Her body shivered with excitement, especially when he pushed her into the door and ran his hands up to cup her breasts. He leaned in close and pressed gentle kisses to the side of her neck and down her collarbone, and eventually, he found his way back to her neck.

Right when his hands moved to her back to unclasp her bra, he suddenly removed them altogether, and placed them on either side of her head, trapping her between his body and the door.

And with five simple words hummed lowly into her ear, he'd managed to win this round.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Spencer opened the door and pushed past her, leaving her behind to catch her breath.

***

The night was nearly over, and she still hadn't managed to break him. And after the stunt he pulled in the storage closet, she was getting just as frustrated as he was. Since then, he'd practically dangled himself in front of her all night, making a point to play with his hands (which he knew she went crazy for), doing the same with his mouth (which she also had praised multiple times over), and occasionally resting his hand on her lower back, or on the inside of her thigh under the table.

And now, he had her cornered near the back of the room after she'd excused herself to collect her bearings.

But she wasn't having it.

Before he could say or do anything, she grabbed him by the tie and pulled him to her, sneering in his face. "Back off, baby, or I swear to God..."

She wasn't really sure what she was going to say, because no words could properly accentuate her frustration. All she could do was give vague threats and hope Spencer stepped up to the plate.

Unfortunately for her, he didn't.

"What? What are you gonna do?" he laughed, looking at her hungrily.

At this point they were just needlessly teasing themselves, and they both knew it. But the game had gone on for so long that one of them had to break eventually, right?

She couldn't answer him... There was absolutely nothing in her brain except for images of them, screwing each other to the ends of the earth. So, she looked back at him, silently hoping that he would just forget about the apologies and do something about the tension that had been building up for weeks now.

And truthfully, she thought he would have. He looked like he was ready to say fuck it and kiss her right there. He leaned in, and she gripped his tie even tighter.

But then someone cleared their throat beside them.

"Alright, you two." It was Rossi. "Get out of here, go kiss and make up. That's an order."

"But you're not our boss," Y/N pointed out, apparently still on the high of arguing.

"Tonight I am. Go on, get."

She turned away from them and left without another word.

***

One silent car ride later, the two of them walked up to Y/N's apartment. It wasn't until Spencer had closed the door behind him that either of them said something.

In fact, they both said something at the same time.

"Take your clothes off."

"Leave the suit on."

And then, silence.

For one second. Then two. Then three.

And then the only sound to be heard was Y/N's heels as she glided to Spencer in three large steps and crushed her mouth to his. The second it happened, it was like a rubber band snapped, all this pent up tension finally releasing and shooting across the air until it landed somewhere.

In this case, it landed on the kitchen table. She pushed off his jacket the second her butt landed on the cool wooden surface, and her mouth pulled away from his with a harsh smack. "I thought I told you to take off your clothes."

"So fucking impatient," he breathed, grabbing her face with his hands and kissing her again.

A second later, she pulled back and gripped his tie. "Then don't take so fucking long," she said lowly, and then pulled him forward by the tie, connecting their mouths once more.

He grunted in her mouth, releasing her face and working at the buttons of his shirt while she tried her hardest to get the tie. The second everything was loosened, she slid her hands under his shirt and pulled his body into hers by the waist, digging her nails into his skin.

"Lift your hips, baby," he breathed against her mouth, his hands already at the button. "Let me get these off."

"I thought you wanted me to keep the suit on?" she laughed.

"Well, I can't fuck you with your pants on, Y/N."

She lifted her hips then, using her hands on the table as leverage while he shimmied them off over her heels. "I know, genius, I was just fucking with you."

"Well, stop it," he got out with an exasperated sigh.

And before she could retort, his fingers were pushing her panties aside and slipping through the opening of her pussy, causing her words to get caught in her throat.

She choked on a moan and he laughed. "Yeah, I thought that'd shut you up."

"Fuck you," she gasped.

"I'd rather fuck you instead."

And with that final sentence, he started finger-fucking her, leaning forward and applying kisses and bites to her neck. Her hands reached out to grip his shoulders, pushing the rest of his shirt off and then clinging to him like a cat clinging to a tree.

"Who knew all this fighting would make you so wet for me," he said, punctuating his words with a nip to her neck. As if to prove his point, he worked his fingers in and out of her quicker and deeper, the both of them taking in and relishing the sounds it made. Meanwhile she rocked her hips against his hand and tried her hardest not to make much sound, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing how much he was affecting her.

Though, it seemed he caught on to her scheme.

"What's the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue? I know you wanna let it out, so why don't you?"

"Not... until you say you're sorry," she managed to respond clearly, leaning back to look him in the eye.

The look he gave her radiated cockiness as his fingers worked even faster, and she squeezed her eyes shut to hold back any noises.

"Aw, not even one little moan for me, pretty girl? I know you've got one in you..."

"N—no," she pressed, obviously trying not to react at all. But it was getting harder when every second Spencer was curling his fingers inside her now, hitting that sweet spot and bringing her closer to the edge.

"Yes," he reiterated, bringing his other hand to her mouth and pushing her lips apart to press his thumb down onto her tongue, keeping her jaw open and forcing out all the sounds she'd tried so hard to hold in.

There was no getting out of it, but... right now she didn't care. Because she loved when he took control like this, seeing his face scrunch up with determination to get what he wanted, the raw, primal look in his eye that boiled her insides and broke her down every time...

Inevitably, she moaned out. Loudly. And when she was met with a smug, "Atta girl," she closed her mouth around his thumb and sucked on it, humming as her pussy clenched around his fingers. "That's a good fucking girl..."

As he worked her through her orgasm, the high subsiding, she thought, Alright... You win this round...

And then, as he pulled away from her and brought his fingers to his mouth and cleaned them off, Y/N slowly grew a smirk.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" Spencer asked, raising an eyebrow.

She took out her earrings, jumped off the table, and unbuttoned the suit jacket, letting it hang open as she dragged him with her to the bedroom in nothing but her bra, panties, jacket, and heels. "I'm gonna get you for that."

His heart raced as she all but threw him in the direction of the bed. He sat down and leaned back, breathless as she kicked the door shut with her foot and settled her hands on her bare hips. From the low angle he had, she very much radiated dominance and power, and God, if she wasn't the most stunning specimen he'd ever laid his eyes on...

He wanted in that moment so badly to submit to her, to give her everything she wanted, but... If he didn't, what would she do?

She took a few slow steps, and with every one Spencer sunk back, until he was laying down and she was standing at the edge of the bed, using her knee to push his legs apart.

"Sit up," she demanded softly, and he almost obliged. But he wanted to see what she'd do if he refused. So when he remained on his back, she stretched her arm out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him up and then gripping his chin in her other hand to make him look up at her.

In the dim light of the bedroom, he studied her, every curve and peak of her face and the way the shadows accented her prettiest features, the faint glimmer of the eyeshadow she was wearing, the way her tongue danced behind her lips as she figured out what to say next...

Likewise, she took him in completely, the way his eyes softened with each passing second as they roamed her face, and how his just settled in her hand, like he was completely submitting to and amazed by her. And truth be told, the feeling was mutual. Just looking into his eyes alone, Y/N could tell how much he loved her, and it made her heart swell.

Consequently, the electric buzz that had been between them all night and growing stronger for weeks was a dull hum, something more warm and... remorseful.

"I love you," Y/N breathed, loosening the grip on Spencer's chin. She let her fingers slide down his neck and over to his shoulder, where she gave him a light, loving squeeze. "And I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered back, bringing one of his hands up to cup her cheek. "And I love you."

She sat down on one of his legs, bringing them closer together and to eye-level. And with a smile, she said, "Truce?"

"Truce."

"Good. Now, fuck me?"

"Always."

Her body melted into his when he pulled her face to him and kissed her. His lips moved slowly against hers, yet with a burning passion and need that made it hard for her to breathe. It wasn't long before she starting rocking against him, butterflies swarming in her stomach when he noticed and used one of his hands to run up her thigh. Meanwhile their kisses grew stronger, deeper, and the little sighs and moans they produced together provided the cherry on top.

Y/N slid off of him, then reached down to take his pants off, head spinning and heart soaring. And Spencer felt the same, tugging at the hem of her panties.

She laughed, breaking away once his pants were off. "How do you want me, baby?"

"Just like this," he responded, not needing any time to think about it. "Ride me, do whatever you want to me. I just want you."

With another little laugh, she pushed him back lightly and took off her underweat and heels, then climbed over him to straddle his hips. "Careful what you wish for."

When she reached back her arms to remove the jacket, Spencer stopped her, gripping her thighs and saying in a low voice, "Don't you dare take that off."

She sounded satisfied. Triumphant. "I knew you'd like it."

And before he had a chance to elaborate on just how much he liked it, she shifted her hips and ground down on his bare, hard dick. All words escaped him at the feeling, and she seemed to know it, because she smiled down at him victoriously.

She leaned down and braced her hands on his chest as she continued to rock back and forth, slicking him up with her arousal. Soon after, she snuck one of her hands down to help herself onto him, and she sank down slowly, ever so slowly...

Spencer sighed out, long and drawn out, and the sound was like music to Y/N's ears. She started off slowly, but it wasn't long before she sat up and set a steady pace riding him. And once he found his bearings, getting used to the feeling of her around him after almost a whole month of missing it completely, his eyes opened and took her in once more, the sight before him almost shattering him to pieces.

As his hands flew out to grip her waist, Y/N sighed, reaching down and placing her hands on his stomach. "Fuck, I missed this, baby... Missed you..." Then she slid forward and settled her hands at his collarbone, slowing her hips and making sure to speak just as slowly. "Missed the feeling of your cock deep inside me..."

He lost it then. His grip tightened on her waist and he shifted his hips, repeatedly thrusting up into her with a force that elicited a deep moan from Y/N's throat. She gasped out as he continued this pace, the tension inside of her starting to stretch thin.

"Fuck, baby, please! Oh, right there!" she couldn't help but yell out. She sat up just a little so he had a better angle, and her hands gently wrapped around his throat, to which he rolled his eyes back and groaned out a soft, "Fuck, yes."

They were moving together now, meeting each others' hips with an urgency that could only be present through weeks of built up tension and depravation. It was like a thunderstorm, intense and filled to the brim with flashes of lightning that danced behind both of their eyes as they reached the pinnacle.

Their bodies slowed down naturally, and Y/N's hands were now combing through his hair as she slumped down over him and felt his release as it started to drip down her thigh, and Spencer basked in the feeling of her envelopment, her body weight over the top of him like a warm blanket. They both felt little aftershocks of pleasure as they slowed their breathing and just laid there, hands gently rubbing each others' skin and mouths exhaling soft whispers of 'I love you,' and 'I missed you.'

And then they fully came to their senses, the storm having rolled through completely and leaving them in a calm breeze. It was peaceful. Rehabilitating.

Y/N kissed Spencer's neck and lifted her head to look him in the eyes. "Babe, you know I love you, but I'm not sleeping in this thing tonight."

He laughed, tucking some of the hair behind her ear that had fallen from the updo and then running his thumb along her bottom lip. "That's fair. You should... wear suits more often, though. They're a good look for you."

She smiled and kissed him softly. "Duly noted."

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gingersnaaps · 3 years

Text

making things right

you and iwaizumi just aren't meant to be, and if he has to fuck some sense into your little brain for you to understand, then so be it.

wc: 2.8k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): noncon, explicit n*fw, blackmail, emotional manipulation, emotional sadism, dumbification, degradation, fem!reader with inner genitals, has something resembling an actual plot

a/n: i couldn't decide which way i wanted to go with the plot, so i just did both. read a darker version of this here

i don't want minors interacting with my content

Oikawa really doesn’t like how much time Iwaizumi has been spending around you lately.

It’s not that he’s jealous, of course - that kind of pettiness is far beneath him - it just doesn’t seem right. It’s not the natural order of things for someone as pretty as you, all soft skin and glowing smiles, to be practically draped around Iwaizumi all the fucking time.

He’s counted, you know, and today was the thirty-eighth time that you’ve visited their lunch table and somehow ended up on Iwaizumi’s lap.

And doesn’t he also have to think of his team? The Spring Interhigh’s coming up, and it wouldn’t do for one of the most important players on the team to be constantly distracted. He’s seen the way Iwaizumi looks at you: it’s adoration encapsulated in a gaze, the kind of tenderness and admiration that he’s only ever seen Iwaizumi direct at himself.

Oikawa’s going to have to fix this, isn’t he? He’s going to have to make everything the way it should be.

He finds that he enjoys the constant planning and brainstorming and especially the fantasizing far more than he’d anticipated.

Oikawa notes down which days you go home immediately after school, which days you stay, and the routes you take home. He writes down all your friends in a little notebook, familiarizes himself with the classes you take, and pays extra attention to your mood swings.

Of course, as he spends more and more time detailing every aspect of your life, it’s only natural for his thoughts to… wander. In class, he catches his own attention drifting away from Japanese literature to thoughts of what you’d look like strung out on his cock, eyes squeezing out tears as he stuffs you full and claims your pussy. He thinks about how slutty your skirt looks when you’re bending over, and about how much he’d like to rip it off of you. He likes to imagine how Iwaizumi would react, too - the way he’d cry and sob and finally understand that you don’t belong with someone like him.

He finds that these thoughts allow him to tolerate Iwaizumi’s presence near you a lot better, even though the two of you have only grown closer as of late. When you start getting particularly obnoxious with your flirting, he just has to picture you screaming in pain as he fucks you dry, or think about the bulge in your throat from his cock shoved deep inside your mouth. And when he sees Iwaizumi finally ask you out on a date to the ramen place nearby, he almost feels sorry for how short-lived, how temporary, your romance is going to be.

As the weeks go by and the Interhigh draws near, Oikawa thinks he’s got a pretty good idea of how to make it happen.

It starts off almost too easy.

Oikawa’s usually the one who stays late after practice, slamming his serves into the opposite end of the court until his vision goes dizzy and his arms turn numb. But Iwaizumi - bless his generosity - had planned on staying after to help a few of the first years out with their serves.

He waits at the school gates, scanning the entrance for any sign of you. You should be finishing up with your little club soon if the notes he’d been keeping were any indication, and sure enough, he spots your bright teal jacket scurrying towards the gates after just a few minutes.

Oikawa plasters on his friendliest smile, waving you towards him. “Hey,” he greets. “Iwa-chan told me to wait for you today. Do you want to come over? He’ll be along in just a minute - he’s just cleaning up the gym a bit.”

“Aren’t you the captain?” you tease. “So much for being responsible.”

He forces out a laugh. Do you realize how insufferable you are? Because you’re really not doing yourself any favors with the way you’re acting. But he pushes down the surge of anger that threatens to spill over, because he knows you’ll change your tune as soon as you arrive at his place.

He can’t wait.

The walk home is filled with empty banter, useless conversation that flits back and forth on the most boring of topics. To be honest, Oikawa appreciates this - it gives him the mental room to think about much more interesting things, like the way your breasts are pushing against the jacket, or the slight sheen of your lip gloss. Or, alternatively, the way your breasts would look spilling out of his hands, and the way your shiny lips would look smeared with spit and cum.

He places a hand on your waist as he guides you inside his house, but you stiffen. “Isn’t Hajime supposed to have caught up to us by now?” you ask.

Hajime.

First name basis, huh?

It’s a small detail, but it’s the kind of change that has him seeing red at the periphery of his vision, the kind that makes him want to ruin your slutty body until it's bruised and leaking cum. He’s been friends with Iwaizumi for twelve years. Twelve years, and all he’s gotten from him is a nickname. You’ve known him for barely a fucking year, and here you are, sauntering away with his first name.

His hand on your waist tightens, gripping and squeezing at your lovely flesh until he can feel you wince in pain. “I’m afraid it might be a while,” he says, voice brittle.

“What do you mean?” you ask, turning around, your eyes widening.

Oikawa shoves you inside and slams the door. “I mean,” he hisses. “That your precious Hajime won’t be coming around anytime soon.”

Panic rises in your throat, but he slaps a hand over your mouth quicker than you can scream. All that escapes is a strangled cry, weak and thin, one that quickly dies out in the entrance hall of his house. It’s much too quiet to reach any neighbors, you realize with a sinking feeling. The last bit of faint hope you harbor in the back of your mind dies when you realize that there’s no concerned housewife coming to check on the commotion, no fumbling child who might stumble in on you and Oikawa. You’re alone. You’re fucked.

He’d made sure of it.

“Bitches like you are so stupid, aren’t you? Making me spell everything out for you.” His voice drips condescension as he yanks you by the hair towards the bedroom. There’s no reason to put up an act anymore, he thinks, so he can be as rough as he wants with his new toy - he just has to make sure he returns you in one piece to Iwaizumi. Oikawa’s sure he won’t mind if you’re a little beat up around the edges, a little used by the end of this.

As he throws you down on the bed, the thought gives him immense satisfaction. You’d been so eager to do things with Iwaizumi - he’d coaxed out embarrassed confessions from his friend over late-night calls - so he’s almost sure that you’re a needy slut during sex.

Of course, you’re not nearly so eager now, not when he’s holding your squirming body down on the bed.

“You do realize that this is what you get, right? It’s your fault for being this fucking easy. Should’ve thought a bit harder about going home with me. Did your mommy and daddy never teach you to not trust men?” he says, face curling into a smile.

You’re unable to get a word out, mouth dry and cottony from the fear that pierces you. He watches your eyes flicker between the bulge in his pants and his face, uncertain and wary, like a deer caught in headlights. Oikawa can’t help the sick pleasure that bubbles up within him at the look on your face.

“Please,” you say hoarsely. “Please.”

“You have to use your words, you know. You could be begging me to stop, but I think you like this. I think you’re begging me to get on with it,” he says.

Maybe he’s taking it a step too far with the dramatics, but he can’t bring himself to tone it down - not when he’s right about to get to the good bit, and certainly not when he sees those pretty tears trickling down your face.

He looks you up and down appraisingly. He’d always thought you were rather pretty, with your soft halo of hair and your glittering smile - but he can’t deny that there’s a special sort of charm in the way you fidget uncomfortably under his gaze.

It makes him hungry.

As he spreads your thighs apart, all he can think about is how much he wants to claim you, to ruin you, because that’s what he imagines fucking you is like: ownership and victory spread on his tongue while your juices drench his cock. All the filthy dreams he’s had, every fantasy he’s gotten off to late at night, and the stifling heat spreading through his core is begging him to fuck you, to ravish your tight hole until the only name you know is his own.

He doesn’t really want to bother with prep. He’s sure that stretching you out on three - no, maybe four fingers until you scream would be fun, but you don’t deserve that kind of special treatment. Aren’t sluts like you supposed to be wet all the time anyway?

You can feel the outline of his dick dragging along your soft thighs, pressing close to your cunt, a breathy moan escaping his lips from the friction of his sweatpants grinding against your body. It’s not long before he pulls his cock out all the way and strokes it a few times. He grabs at your hips, maneuvering you like a rag doll, and fits the tip of his cock at your fluttering entrance. Nudging at your hole, he pushes in just the head of his cock - enough so you can feel the sting of his girth, but not nearly deep enough to offer any real relief.

You whine involuntarily, and a grin lights up his face. “You’re desperate, aren’t you?” he asks, dragging a thumb against your lips. “Is it because Iwa-chan doesn’t fuck you well enough? Is his pathetic dick too small to fill up that hole of yours properly?” he leers. “I’ve seen his cock before… mine’s bigger, you know.”

“Fuck you,” you mumble. You’re dizzy from the fear and panic that clouds your brain, but anger still seeps into your veins at his crude words.

Maybe if your head was a bit clearer, you would’ve realized that only stupid girls talk back.

Oikawa’s hips snap into yours harshly, his cock tearing at your insides, and you let out a strangled gasp. You’re not prepared for how well his cock stretches you out - it’s curved in all the right places, ramming into your cervix, brushing up against your tender g-spot - and as he ruthlessly pounds your frail body into the mattress, your mind blanks, overloaded with sensation. You can’t remember who you are, or why you’re getting fucked. The only thing on your mind is the raw feeling of being cunt split wide open, of having your insides rearranged until you’re a drooling, dumb mess.

“Fuck who?” he asks, shoving two fingers inside your sloppy mouth,

“F- fuck…” you whisper. His fingers are gripping at your hips so tightly you can feel the skin beginning to bruise, and there’s just too much to handle. He’s everywhere; his fingers probe around your mouth, making you gag, and his cock drags along your tender walls until you’re left quivering around his length.

He leans down to kiss at your forehead, his lips brushing tenderly against your hair. “You can do it, baby,” he encourages, cooing at you. “You can say it.”

“Fuck me,” you whimper quietly, cheeks burning with shame.

“Good girl,” he says, voice sickly sweet. “I knew you could do it for me.”

Fucking you feels so much better once you’re compliant, he thinks. He slows down a bit, savoring the sensation of your cunt twitching uselessly while you writhe on the bed in pleasure. He feels a sharp jolt of arousal as he looks at the marks he’s left all over you, admiring how the angry bruises on your hips and waist are beginning to purple.

You tug at his shirt, sniffling and crying. “Please,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re asking for anymore, not even sure whether you want Oikawa to stop or continue, but you can’t handle the way he’s slowly fucking you senseless.

He raises an eyebrow. “You want it faster?” he asks cruelly, bouncing you into his cock. There’s no response on your end, but Oikawa thinks he’ll take that as a yes. And if that’s what you want?

Well, that’s what you get.

The hum of pleasure in your core intensifies as he picks up speed again. This time, he angles his cock until it grinds down harshly on your sensitive spot, leaving your legs limp and body helpless as your cunt tightens like a vice. As you shudder from the orgasm that washes over you, he spills into your pussy until your hole is leaking white down your thighs.

You can feel him laughing softly as he pulls out and climbs to rest beside you, leaving you stuck in a pool of your own sweat and cum and. He wipes the remaining cum off of his cock, smearing it on your face, but you barely react. You feel so dirty, so tainted and violated, but you’re not sure you could move even if you tried - his cock has left you boneless and made sure that every square inch of your body is sore and aching.

“Well,” he says, breathless. “Better run home unless you want Iwa-chan to know you’ve been all used up.”

Hajime? Your eyes widen, welling up with tears.

Oikawa unlocks the phone in his hand and presses play.

The sounds that echo through the empty room make you feel like screaming, because there’s no denying the solid, tangible proof that’s being played back. Your breathy moans are clear as day, and it’s unmistakable when you hear yourself begging Oikawa to fuck you harder, faster, to split you apart on his cock.

With a sinking feeling, you know there’s no explanation that would ever satisfy Hajime if he heard this audio. You can already see the pain in his eyes if he were to find out that his best friend for the past twelve years had ruined you, fucked you so thouroughly that you could barely tell the difference between pain and pleasure.

You don’t want that, you realize miserably. You can’t have that.

“I’m not going to send it,” he says. He sees hope creep into your expression, as if you’re almost daring to believe that you could go back to your normal life after this little session, but he doesn’t feel any pity for you when he speaks again.

“Not if you stay away.”

You and Hajime don’t belong together anyway, so why would he be sorry?

Your eyes drop as you inhale shakily. Oikawa watches you fumble around for your clothing, entertained by the way you trip and stumble as your weak legs attempt to hold you upright. It makes for an awkward, ugly image - but he can’t deny the warm thrill of satisfaction that runs up his spine as you slink out of his bedroom.

He’s finally making things right.

When you go to school the next day, you’re glad that you don’t have any classes with Hajime for the first time ever. It makes it easier to avoid him, and you purposely choose to sit as far away as possible from their table in the lunchroom. You don’t bother responding to his messages either, every single text of his sending a bitter jolt of pain through you, and you eventually block his number.

Weeks later, you’re not sure he’d believe you even if you were to explain everything. What would you even say? That you’d been ignoring him and ghosting him because his best friend of twelve years had raped and blackmailed you? That someone he knows and trusts was capable of devastating violence? Oikawa and him seem closer than ever, and you start to wonder at your own stupidity. To think that you could ever get in between a bond as close as theirs - maybe Oikawa was right all along.

You’re walking home alone one day, the hazy late-day sun bathing the roads in a shimmering heat, when you hear footsteps and a voice behind you. Your heart hammers unsteadily, getting ready to run, when you hear three words that make your stomach drop.

“I’ve missed you.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa x reader #haikyuu #yandere x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #yandere #hq x reader #hq yandere #iwaizumi x reader #tw.noncon #tw.blackmail #tw.manipulation #lin.n*fw #tw.dc

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arvandus · 3 years

Text

Icarus (Overhaul x F!Reader)

Ah yes, once again so late on this. This one gave me grief because the characters kept deviating from what I had originally planned. >.< But I worked through it, and here we are.

This is for the BNHarem's “On The Job” Collab for May, which you can find here.

Also, don’t judge my super simple title headings for my fics 😂 I always do these late at night when I should be asleep, so generic background with fancy text is the best I got to offer.

Trigger Warnings: 18+ ONLY! 1 instance of aggression/abuse (hair grabbing/pulling - nonsexual), unprotected sex (fun in fiction, dumb IRL), mutual masturbation, overstimulation, bondage via quirk abuse, degradation...

I think that about covers it. Once again, I’m terrible at TWs so let me know if I missed anything or if anything is inaccurate. 😬 I just kinda write what I want and don’t really think about the labels when I’m doing it.

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Word Count: 8281

You hadn’t meant to get caught. Really, you weren’t even sure what had possessed you to do it in the first place. Desperation? Horniness? Stupidity?

All of the above?

All you knew was that it was a poor decision brought forth by the gradual culmination of a single annoying, unavoidable fact: you were disgustingly, shamefully, sinfully attracted to Kai Chisaki.

You weren’t exactly sure how or when it started. There was no “aha” moment, no “big bang” of desire. Instead, it was subtle, gradually coating your unsuspecting mind like layers of sediment. A shiver down your spine when he spoke your name. The quickening of your pulse at the briefest of eye contact. And the ever-growing presence of intrusive, curious thoughts.

Like his hands. You always noticed them, the white of his gloves drawing your attention like a beacon whenever he was within eyesight. They were dangerous hands, deadly weapons that you’d seen in action firsthand. They were a thing to be feared and avoided. But some strange part of you couldn’t help but wonder... what did they feel like? You imagined they’d be soft and perfectly manicured, oddly delicate for such a violent man; gentle hands packed with destructive power.

Or his lips. They were always covered by his mask. You never, ever saw him without it. You imagined what your name would look like on them as he spoke, how they’d feel on your skin. Would his lips also be soft? How about his kisses? Would they be cautious and controlled, or rough and hungry?

It didn’t help that he was, in his own way, very attractive. Just like how his dangerous hands were hidden within innocent white gloves, he was the devil hidden behind a pretty face. A sharp, beautiful jawline. Smooth porcelain skin. A crown of auburn red hair, closely cropped, but still long enough to run fingers through.

You bet that part of him was soft too.

The one part of him that wasn’t soft were his eyes. They were beautiful, certainly… as gold as Heaven’s gates and framed in long, perfect lashes. But they lacked the warmth of Heaven. Instead, they spoke of cold arrogance. And if you stared into them long enough, you could see a barely contained disgust lurking beneath their haughty exterior.

The disgust didn’t bother you, not anymore. Everyone disgusted Chisaki, and everyone in the Shie Hassaikai knew it. He even made his closest confidants, some he’d known since childhood, wear masks so he wouldn’t share the same air with them.

He had you wear a mask too, of course. Simple and white, it covered only your lower face, much like his own. That much you were grateful for, considering some of the masks you’d seen others wearing. Your only explanation for the slightly less coverage was that your secretarial position made you a frequent point of contact for those outside of the organization. You handled incoming calls, visitors, and scheduled meetings between Chisaki and his affiliates. No doubt he wanted to ensure you were making a good impression while still operating within his mysophobic requirements.

First impressions were everything to Kai. Even more so since he took the Boss’s place under dubious circumstances. Still, his long-held reputation for extremist thinking and violence preceded him, and not everyone was in support of his unexpected promotion. As a result, many people within the organization parted ways following Chisaki’s rise to power... and soon after they mysteriously went missing, never to be heard from or located again. You had no doubt that it was Chisaki tying up loose ends by sealing loose lips. After all, they say the mouth is the source of disaster. And Chisaki valued confidentiality above all else.

The message he sent was clear: adapt or die. When given such colorful options, the choice on whether to go or stay became a simple one.

So, you adapted. As long as you followed orders, kept your eyes down and your mouth shut, you were safe. After all, it was better to be the right hand of the devil than to be in his path. The only person you really had to fear was Chisaki himself, and you knew him well enough by now to know how to stay on his good side.

And all in all, it really wasn’t all that bad. Sure, you had to orchestrate the occasional clean-up when he disposed of someone who displeased him. But that wasn’t much different than what you’d dealt with when you worked for the Boss, either. Sure, the aftermath was messier and it happened far more often. But violence was violence, and when you worked with the Yakuza long enough, you got used to it. And despite the odd working conditions and ever-present undertone of danger, you remained good at your job. As such, Chisaki brooked no complaint. He tolerated you, and you tolerated him. Interactions were brief, words exchanged were polite and respectful even though they lacked warmth. But it was just a job, right? You didn’t need warmth.

So why did you feel so dissatisfied? Why did you constantly feel that something was missing, a longing you couldn’t entirely describe?

The need only ever waned when Chisaki was in your presence, whether it was to discuss upcoming meetings or simply passing by your desk to get to his office. The dissatisfaction would melt away into a warmth that extended deep into your fingertips whenever the cold-hearted man bothered to look you in the eyes. And when he wasn’t looking at you? It was like being thrown into a winter blizzard, the aching cold returning to pull the corners of your mouth down into a silent frown.

You craved his attention. It was shameful and pathetic and you could only imagine the scorn he’d give you if he knew, but you didn’t care. To be graced with the attention of a man who cared for no one brought a different kind of satisfaction. The rare treats of attention Chisaki did grant you, whether intended or not, scratched an itch that only he could scratch.

As time passed, the intrusive thoughts became more frequent, evolving from odd curiosities to shameless lust. They began to occupy your dreams, forcing you awake with a hot ache between your legs. That was when you really began to realize how in deep you were. It wasn’t just a simple “attraction.” You wanted him. At first you tried to deny and ignore, suppress and excuse. After all, this was Overhaul. Wanting him was like wanting the sun in your hand, and just as dangerous. Apparently though, it made little difference to your hormone-addled brain. It didn’t help that the secretive, forbidden thoughts brought their own special addictive flavor of the taboo.

You began to act different in front of him. Nothing too obvious, of course. After all, you knew Chisaki wasn’t the type to indulge in desperate women. To be honest, you weren’t even sure Chisaki indulged in women at all. All you did know was that whenever women tried to gain his favor through flirtation, Chisaki quickly and harshly shut it down.

So, it was little things... the extra second to release a paper from your grip after he’d grabbed it, the lingering of a glance. You didn’t so much change the style of your attire – skirts and blouses were already the norm for your position – but you changed the colors. A blouse that matched the purple feathery softness of his jacket, golden jewelry that matched his eyes. Little messages waiting in secret to be picked up, yet subtle enough that they could be excused as nothing more than coincidence. It was risky, but the thrill of the game gave you an outlet for your roiling feelings. In the end though, it made no difference. There was nothing about you that seemed important enough to turn Chisaki’s head more than was professionally necessary.

Which is where the state of things were when you found yourself alone in his office one evening. You had thought he was still working at the time. You’d stepped away to shred some incriminating documents and burn the scraps in the kiln outside. It was your last task for the day, so you’d entered Chisaki’s office to announce your departure for the evening. Except when you entered, the space was empty, with all traces of him gone. No papers remained on his desk. His gloves and plague mask were gone. With an annoyed huff you had stood there, bothered that you’d missed him.

Quietly, you walked to his desk, and gently caressed the mahogany wood. It was immaculate of course, free of dirt and fingerprints. You knew it would be because he cleaned his space every evening before he left, and you cleaned it every morning before he arrived.

You sighed as you retrieved the paper towels and cleaning solution. No harm in giving it a second scrub to save yourself some time tomorrow morning. It wasn’t like anyone would be foolish enough to enter this space without Chisaki present anyway.

You should have just left it at that. But as you walked around his desk to wipe the surface with the damp towel, your bare legs just below your skirt bumped his chair. Soft leather, still warm from where he had sat, greeted your exposed skin.

That should have been your first clue.

But your mental alarms never sounded. Instead, you figured you had just missed him.

You should have just left, but you didn’t. The warmth on the chair was enticing you. He was gone, right? Left for the evening. What harm could it do to indulge just a little bit? With your heart pounding with excitement, you carefully sat down in the warm leather. Immediately the scent of Chisaki’s body wash and clean clothes cradled you.

That should have been your second clue.

But you were already too wrapped up in your enjoyment. You relished in the sensations, leaning back as you closed your eyes. It was the closest you’d ever felt to him, as if his very presence was there with you. Your desire purred deep in your gut at receiving its first nibble of satisfaction. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was there, holding you.

Your kept your eyes closed as your imagination began to take root like weeds in your mind, making your skin feel hot. Your fingers grazed the inside of your thigh, dipping beneath your skirt while your heart pounded. What if those were his fingers? The vision combined with the sensations of touch and smell were delicious, and you wanted more. You dragged the pads of your fingertips up even higher, your arm starting to push your skirt up with it. Your legs parted easily, as you let out a shaky breath.

You shouldn’t be doing this. Not here of all places. But there was something so sinfully satisfying about it, the danger only heightening the sensations. After all, the reward was only as great as the risk it took to earn it. And this was the highest risk you could take, short of literally throwing yourself at him. Besides, it wasn’t like your fantasies were ever going to come true. Maybe satisfying yourself - right here, right now – would be enough to finally give you the peace of mind you needed.

And dear God, did you need it. You could already feel the heat growing in your loins, the moisture dampening your panties. Your fingers finally brushed against the warm cotton fabric covering your sex and you let out a soft gasp.

What Chisaki didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. He was gone, right? And you were going to clean up any traces of your little visit before you left. He’d be none the wiser.

Your fingers slipped beneath your underwear to meet the hot, slick flesh of your folds, your clit already plump and ready with arousal. You knew it wouldn’t take you long to cum, but you wanted to enjoy this, to savor it as the only opportunity you’d get. You certainly weren’t going to do this again.

So, you teased yourself, fingertips softly dragging slow circles around your entrance before dipping in. A shaky moan left your lips, the quickening of your breaths matching the racing of your heart. In and out you dragged your fingers, relishing in your sleek, sensitive walls, occasionally breaking your rhythm to spread your juices over your swollen labia. You revisited your clit and stifled your moan with a bite of your lip as you began to slowly massage it with practiced skill. It felt so fucking good. The scent of yourself mingled with the scent of Chisaki, and you spread your legs wider, leaning back farther into the seat. You could feel the surge beginning to swell, and you knew it would be soon. Vivid fantasies danced on the inside of your eyelids, and you were fully enthralled, fingers skimming fast circles over your swollen bud as your other hand began to massage your breast through your blouse.

“Fuuuuuckk....Kai....” You moaned.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The familiar voice made you jump so hard, you nearly fell out of the chair as your eyes flew wide open.

There was Kai Chisaki, staring down at you from across the desk – his desk. And there were you, sitting in his chair, spread eagle.

Your breath was knocked out of you and you felt light-headed with panic. You caught sight of the shoji screen behind him, wide open to the evening air.

FUCK. Of course. You forgot to check outside. He must have stepped out for some fresh air before returning to his office.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You hadn’t heard him enter. How long had he been standing there??

“I asked you a question.” The man seethed through his plague mask. His gloved hands were clenched into angry fists, and his eyes... eyes that you’d always craved to see you... well, they saw you now, and you were terrified.

Immediately, you closed your legs and stood up from his chair. Your mouth babbled soundlessly before your voice finally came, tight and small.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

“I didn’t ask for an apology.” He hissed.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You blubbered.

“Come. Here.” Chisaki demanded.

You obeyed, struggling to adjust your skirt as you approached him from around his desk.

“I didn’t tell you to touch your clothes.” His tone was quiet and constrained yet sharp as a razor’s edge, each word uttered with meticulous precision.

You stared at him in shock as you slowly removed your hands from your rumpled clothing. His eyes raked over you, top to bottom, and left you feeling... exposed.

“Look at you...” he grumbled. “Disgusting.”

His mask was unnerving, blocking the lower half of his face and keeping you from being able to fully read his facial expression. His gold eyes were threatening – predatory like a wolf.

He was going to kill you. You knew it was coming. He’d killed others for far less. But you weren’t ready for it. You didn’t want to die.

You dropped to your knees and bowed low in front of him, shrinking yourself to fit beneath his harsh glare. “Please, Mr. Chisaki-“

“Overhaul.”

“Overhaul!” you corrected, as you bowed your head lower to the ground. “Please forgive me. I meant no disrespect.”

“No disrespect?” he sneered. “You debase yourself in my seat, my place of business, and claim no disrespect??”

His left hand reached forward at lightning speed and grabbed you by your hair, forcing your head back until you were looking him straight up at him. You winced against his harsh hold on you, yet clenched your teeth in an effort to keep your silence. He glared down at you as his next words came out through what you could clearly hear as clenched teeth.

“Clean it up.”

With that, he shoved you away from him. On shaking, clumsy legs you pushed yourself to your feet and made your way back to his desk, your skin hot with shame and your ears ringing.

You did as he commanded, grabbing the cleaning solution and spraying his seat before carefully, meticulously, wiping every inch of the rich leather. Minutes passed in silence as you made sure that no spot went unnoticed, even ensuring that the table was once again cleaned as well. By the time you had finished, Kai’s temper seemed to have dwindled to a simmering flame. His hands were no longer clenched in fists at his sides. Instead, they were tucked deep into his pockets as he supervised you. It did little to comfort you though... you knew that Chisaki’s reflexes were faster than you could dodge. He’d catch you before you even reached the door.

Not that you’d try to. You knew better.

When the chair was finally pristine, you disposed of the last of the soiled paper towels in the wastebin and returned the cleaning solution to its home. The task was done, but you didn’t stop. You picked up the trash can with the intent of disposing of its contents; you knew Chisaki wouldn’t want it sitting in his office.

It was all to buy you time. Time to figure out what to say or what do to convince Chisaki to spare your life. But you didn’t even make it to the door before Chisaki’s voice halted your retreat.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I... I was just...” you stammered.

“I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

You swallowed and set down the trashcan. He approached you slowly, until he was a mere few inches from you. He was so close that you could smell his cleanliness and see the pupils of his eyes dilate as he stared at you. Slowly, he grabbed the mask that was covering your mouth and nose and removed it from your head. You stopped breathing.

There was something... electric in the air. You could feel it on your skin, making your hairs stand on end and your flesh tighten with goosebumps. His eyes peered at you intently, taking in every subtlety of your face. Your lips, your eyes, your skin... and beneath the weight of his stare, you could feel the fear start to transform, replaced by something else entirely. Something familiar that’d been plaguing you for months, lighting your veins with fire and threatening to incinerate you if it wasn’t released. After all, part of his allure was the danger. And he hadn’t killed you yet, which meant... something.

Chisaki’s gaze began to wander beyond just your face, taking in your still rumpled clothes. The top couple buttons of your blouse were undone, exposing the skin of your neck and the edges of your bra. Your skirt was still askew, and although he couldn’t see it, you became acutely aware of your still-damp underwear trapped between your folds from when you had hastily closed your legs earlier. You stared back at him, waiting for him to do something, say something.

And that’s when you noticed it... a faint flush across his pale cheeks, peaking out from beneath his mask. His chest was rising and falling with each breath, and it was as if he were contemplating something, silently weighing a decision in his closed-off mind.

A strange bubbling sensation began to build within your chest, foreign and oddly out of place.

Hope.

Finally, Chisaki spoke, his voice unusually calm considering the trouble you were in. “Follow me.”

Not one to disobey him, you did as he requested as he made his way over to his desk and sat down in his chair. Then, with an open hand, he gestured at his desk.

“Sit.”

Confusion.

“W-What??” you stuttered.

“I said sit.” He replied.

You did as Chisaki commanded, fitting yourself between his legs and his desk before hopping up slightly onto the surface you’d just cleaned. You were right in front of him now, your hands in your lap and your ankles crossed as you realized just how perfect this arrangement was for him to see directly up your skirt. You worried your lip between your teeth as you watched him assess you. His elbow was resting on the armrest of his chair, his fingers supporting his face along the jawline as he stared at you with his head cocked at an angle. If it were any other situation, you’d say he looked almost bored... but the glint in his eyes spoke of something else entirely.

“Continue.” He stated.

“What? What do you mean?” you asked.

His eyes stared at you knowingly. “You didn’t get to cum, did you?” You shook your head, stunned at his words. “Continue.” He repeated.

“Right here?”

“Where else? It was good enough for you earlier.” His tone dropped slightly as his eyes narrowed. “Continue.”

Your heart pounded in your ears as you uncrossed your ankles, and with shaky hands began to trace your fingers up your thighs just as you had done before. Except this time, the experience was entirely different. Instead of closing your eyes like before, you kept them open to stare at your observer, watching for his reaction. So many times you’d fantasized about this... about his eyes being on you and only you... and you weren’t going to miss a moment of it.

With your eyes locked on each other, you inched your way up to the space between your thighs, your legs parting to grant you access. Chisaki didn’t look down. Not right away, at least. Instead, he continued to watch your face, his body still and silent. With the heat of his gaze on you, you finally reached your center where your warmth greeted you. It was still slick from earlier, your fingers sliding easily along your labia as you began to tease yourself for the second time that evening. You let out slow, shaky breaths as your fingers rubbed slow, lazy circles over your glossy lips.

Chisaki still didn’t break his gaze from your eyes, and a part of you wanted him to. You wanted him to acknowledge what you were offering him and know that he liked it. A small, devious smirk found itself on your lips as you pulled your fingers away from your pussy to show him the evidence of your arousal stretched across your fingers. It caught his attention just briefly, eyes flicking to your display, before he watched you lick the glistening strands from your fingertips, the soft sounds of your sucking filling the empty, quiet room.

Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, and the smirk on your face widened. Soon your fingers were back between your legs, massaging your clit again as your skin began to feel flush with heat. Round and round the pads of your fingers went, with painstaking slowness that you drew out just for him. You wanted to show him how good his presence made you feel. You wanted him to see how badly you wanted him. Your lips became more swollen, your clit more sensitive. Already you could start to feel the tension build. It was almost too easy, your body ready to surrender at the drop of a hat. But you weren’t going to let it happen, not yet at least. You wanted to draw this out, to savor it in case it never happened again.

With half-lidded eyes you stared at him as you parted you folds for him, fully exposing yourself. For the first time, his eyes drifted from your face to stare directly at your desire for him – your tight hole open and waiting, every inch of your swollen cunt drenched in glistening arousal. Chisaki was captivated and you felt your blood surge. You needed more. With your fingers still spreading yourself open, you dipped your middle digit into your tight heat. Pleasure bloomed within you and a soft groan vibrated from the back of your throat. With each draw of your fingers, your breaths quickened, your back arching as the tension began to build.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, to watch Chisaki as you brought yourself closer to orgasm, but it became increasingly difficult. You were single-focused now, chasing your much-needed release with each plunge of your finger into your soft depths. Your body accommodated it welcomingly, and so you added a second, once again relishing in the renewed stretch that caressed your inner walls. The faster you pumped your fingers, the better it felt until your nerves were singing that familiar hum. You flowed seamlessly into the final phase, your wet fingers leaving your entrance in favor of rubbing hard, fast circles over your clit. The finish line was in sight now as your body sprinted with tense, aching muscles and breathy moans.

You came with a gasp, back arching and thighs twitching as you rode out your orgasm. As you neared the end of it, you dipped your fingers in one last time as your walls gave one last final spasm of pleasure. Gradually the wave of your euphoria calmed, returning to the gentle, lapping waters of desire that still moved within you to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You opened your eyes to see Chisaki still staring at you silently, his eyes once again locked onto yours. The flush across his cheeks was very much apparent now, yet his posture remained unmoved. Still, out of curiosity, you dared a quick glance down to his lap to see his hand strategically placed over the bulge in his pants. Was he trying to hide it? Because he was failing. Or was he stroking himself through his clothes when you weren’t looking?

“Again.” He ordered.

Your eyes bulged. “Again?”

He didn’t bother to answer, instead waiting silently. You were a bird trapped in the golden cage of his eyes as your mind struggled to recover enough from the hazy aftereffects of your orgasm to think straight. He wanted you to do it again?

At first you were hesitant. You knew your body was still sensitive from what had just transpired. But then again… your eyes stared at Chisaki’s crotch again as he waited for you. No doubt he saw you staring, yet he did nothing, said nothing. It almost felt like an invitation… or a dare. Do it again and see what happens.

Fuck. You’d already gotten under his skin... might as well see how deep you could go.

Between your orgasm only moments before and the juices still coating your pussy, the sensations of your touch at first felt almost... numb. Except for your clit. That part was still sensitive, making your muscles twitch and your breath hitch in your throat as you moved your fingers over it experimentally. You kept your touch gentle at first, careful to give your body time to respond as you reawakened the lust that still lurked in your core. With dark eyes you began to stroke yourself for him again, pulling soft pleasurable moans from your gently parted lips. It was definitely more intense this time, and you could already tell that this next orgasm would surpass the one before it. Still, you drew it out as you watched Chisaki. Or, more specifically, watched his free hand.

It didn’t take long... you watched his fingers grip around his hard-on through his pants, his hand slowly moving up and down his restricted length. You bit your lip at the sight and immediately felt a generous wave of hot arousal bloom between your legs, your nipples hardening achingly. It wasn’t enough to capsize you into ecstasy, but it certainly pulled a needy whimper from your lips.

You dipped your fingers into yourself, feeling your walls flutter as you imagined what it would feel like to have Chisaki inside of you. With each curl of your fingers the heat grew, like the sun reaching its zenith. You wanted it. You wanted to cum so badly. But you wanted to see him even more. So, you neglected your puffy clit in favor of unbuttoning your blouse just enough to grant you access to your sensitive breasts. You pushed aside the cup of your bra to free the plump flesh, the bud at its center tightly puckered. With deft fingers you massaged the soft skin before rolling the nipple slowly between your fingers, pulling more soft gasps and gentle hums from your lips. The more you groaned and teased yourself, the more Chisaki stroked himself as he watched you, his eyes glowing with hunger.

It wasn’t until you began to lose yourself, your eyes beginning to drift closed as you moaned and whined to the ebb and flow of your pleasure, that your patience was finally rewarded.

You could hear it over the sounds of your lewdity – the ‘click click click’ of a zipper being pulled down. You opened your eyes, not even attempting to hide your eagerness, as Chisaki freed his cock from his pants.

It was beautiful just like the rest of him; long with a slight curve, its tip red and shining with precum. Veins stood out in relief, trailing his length like vines, thick and beautiful. You swallowed at the sight of it, desperately wanting to know what it would feel like to have that in you.

You hadn’t realized your own movements had frozen until Chisaki’s smooth voice cut through your thoughts.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” He said, as cool and professional as ever as if he didn’t currently sit before you with his dick in his hand.

He was gloating, you knew it... your stunned silence at the sight of his cock stroked his ego just as much as you touching yourself for him did. And you knew that, above all else, Chisaki loved to have his ego stroked.

“Y-yes Mr. Chisaki...” you whispered, before your fingers began moving again.

You continued to stroke and play, penetrate and rub as you watched him take his long cock in his hand and begin long, steady strokes. Even now, he still kept his gloves on, and somehow that made his every move even hotter. He was no longer propping his face up with his other hand. Now, he was sitting up straight, eyes on your needy cunt as you put on your show for him. You could see it, the tension in his temple that came and went, hear the ragged, quick draws of his breaths through his mask. Your own arousal grew in response, egged on by him searching for his own sweet relief at the lewd sight of you. It blossomed like a watered seed as you drank in the man in front of you – his hand pumping, precum dripping.

It was the push your sensitive body needed. You came surprisingly fast, your orgasm crashing over your body with greater intensity than the first. Moans and gasps ripped from your throat as your body spasmed, and you made no effort to quell your cries, too consumed by your own pleasure. With eyes squeezed shut, your hips rocked as you grinded yourself against your hand, your entire body singing in unbridled bliss.

You were given no respite. As soon as the pleasure eased just enough for your hips to still, Chisaki spoke.

“Again.”

Your eyes, still closed, flew open to look at him with incredulity. You weren’t even recovered yet, your cunt still twitching with the aftershocks of pleasure. You knew that touching yourself without some sort of break was going to lead you down a jagged, torturous road of overstimulation. It made your legs start to close up instinctually in denial.

Your mouth moved silently before you pushed the words out. “B-But... I can’t....”

Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, his brows lowering... and along the edge of his mask, you could see his cheeks lift slightly. He was smirking at you. Cruelly.

“You can, and you will.” He said. A wave of his fingers told you to reopen your legs for him, and you did, slowly, as if you were a puppet on strings. “Again.” He repeated.

Chisaki took a moment to remove the glove from his stroking hand before giving his cock a couple more languid strokes. You stared at the exposed skin in awe. It was everything you imagined it’d be... pale, smooth, nails clean and perfectly trimmed. Between his hard cock and his ungloved hand, you stared in shameless longing as an excited chill coursed down your spine. Maybe… maybe if you were good…

You swallowed the dryness in your throat and returned your fingers to your core, flinching as you brushed against your sore, overstimulated clit. Chisaki returned to pleasuring himself as you performed for him, his hand pumping steadily. Watching him masturbate to you was delicious. He didn’t rush, instead opting to taking his time, his hand moving smoothly from base to tip, occasionally pausing to run his precum over the head, the shine glinting in the light. You subconsciously licked your lips, wondering what it would taste like. Would you lick it from his tip? Or his finger? Maybe both?

You matched your pace with his, letting his own strokes guide your hand. The synchrony made your pussy ache more than ever, even as your body screamed for freedom – a break from the constant wave of stimulation that you were subjecting yourself to. It made you feel closer to him, more connected - as if he were a part of your pleasure without actually touching you.

But dear God, you desperately you wanted him to touch you.

He continued his strokes, slow and easy. Whether it was for him or for you, you weren’t sure... you weren’t even sure if he was aware that you were pacing yourself with him. His speed gradually quickened, the muscles of his forearms tensed and twitching as he pumped his hard cock with growing fervor. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, his eyes starting to roll back in his head as he began to lose himself to the pleasure, legs twitching slightly as he came close... Your heart pounded with excited anticipation as you dipped your fingers into your core, feeling your walls flutter with need. It was happening... he was going to cum...

But he never did. Instead, his pace began to slow as his eyes refocused on you. That was when you realized….

Chisaki wasn’t trying to cum yet… he was edging himself.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Or maybe he had his own agenda. But either way, it was clear to you that he was delaying his orgasm.

The hypocrite.

Still, you wanted to please him. You wanted to give him want he wanted, because then maybe he could give you what you really wanted. But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how fucking hot the entire situation was, your own orgasm evaded you.

It was more than just the repeated orgasms and overstimulation. The real issue was that your fingers no longer satisfied. Not after seeing what he had to offer, and certainly not after seeing how horny you made him. You wanted him to touch you, to put his hands on you, to feel his cock in you... A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you felt your resolve break.

“Please, Mr. Chisaki...” you begged. Chisaki’s eyes left your open pussy to lock with yours. Their golden depths burned holes into you, and you licked your lips under the heat of his stare. “Please touch me...”

Chisaki froze mid-stroke. “Touch you?” He said it as if the idea repulsed him, yet his eyes betrayed him as he looked back down between your open legs.

“Please,” You begged. “Don’t you want to?”

His brow was deeply furrowed, and you knew he was having his internal debate, just as he’d had before. After all, what you were asking was no small order. You knew how he felt about touch. No doubt he would have already been balls deep in you had it not been an issue for him.

But that was why you begged. And pleaded. And groveled. Anything to make him set aside his golden rule, even if just for one night.

“Please...” you whined one last time. “I’ll do anything. I need you, Kai...”

Something about you using his given name did something. His eyes widened slightly, his flush reaching down to his exposed neck. Then his eyes narrowed, as he stood from his seat. You watched with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he carefully removed his jacket and loosened his white tie. He towered over you, his stare pinning you somewhere between his contempt and his hunger as he undid the cuffs of his black shirt and rolled up his sleeves to the elbows. It made your pussy throb and your heart pound as you stared back at him, completely vulnerable. He stepped forward slightly, filling the space between your legs with his presence. Even just the graze of his pants against the inside of your knee was enough to set off fireworks on your skin, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. His cock was still out and hard, mere inches from your tight, needy cunt, and it took every ounce of willpower not to scoot down and close the gap between you.

You waited.

“Touch you...” he muttered through his mask, his voice low.

Chisaki’s eyes raked over you, taking in every inch of you. Your trembling, parted lips and large pupils; your exposed breast with its perky, hard nipple; your swollen and glossy cunt framed in ruined underwear that was carelessly shoved aside; the sweat from your thighs coating his desk.

“So fucking filthy.” He breathed. The profanity sounded strange on his lips, almost more like a prayer than an insult.

He stared at one of your thighs as he slowly placed a warm, gloved hand on it. You reacted immediately, gasping at his touch, and his eyes darted to yours.

“...And needy.” He added.

From your peripheral you could see his other hand grip his cock and begin to pump it. You tried to watch... you wanted to watch. But the heat of his hand on your thigh made nearly everything else fade away until it was all you cared about. Your breaths began to come in hot pants as your body trembled beneath him.

“I didn’t realize that you were so desperate for me.” He said calmly as he continued to stroke himself. His gloved hand squeezed your soft flesh until you were moaning from the mixture of pleasure and pain. “Pathetic.”

You were pathetic. But you didn’t care. You’d say anything, do anything, just to have him keep touching you. And if he wanted you to beg? To cry? To humiliate yourself to earn his cock? You’d do that too.

His hand slowly eased its grip as it began to move up, up, up until his thumb nestled in the crook of your thigh, just shy of your sensitive, swollen folds. Your hand immediately made way for his as you laid down completely onto his desk, your world spinning. A warmth fell over you like a blanket, every fiber of your being pulsing at a low hum; you were a glass vibrating at a frequency just shy of shattering.

Chisaki’s voice floated through your haze like a faraway song carried on the wind. “You were so eager at first. So willing to shame yourself – shame me – to get what you wanted.” He scoffed. “Now you can’t even do as I say.”

You could feel his thigh twitch against yours as he began to pump himself faster. His cock was so close to your pussy that it was torturous. It made you want to cry. You could feel the warmth of fresh juices begin to flow from you, coating your entrance in invitation, as you prayed to all the gods above and below for him to enter you without mercy.

But it never came. And his hand never ventured further. Slowly, your thoughts trickled back ever so slightly, and you realized he was waiting for you to speak. Slowly, around a heavy tongue, you made clumsy words. “I... I’m sorry...I’m trying... is hard...”

Chisaki tsked. “You’re afraid. Afraid of pushing past your limits. So now I’m going to help you.”

His gloved thumb crossed the threshold to your swollen bud, and your world exploded into color as a sharp zing of pleasure erupted from between your legs. You cried out, your body spasming, hips writhing to escape his touch. It was too much...

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

Then he did something you didn’t expect – his bare hand released his cock and slammed down onto the desk. The surface rippled beneath you, transforming until smooth arches of dark mahogany wrapped themselves over your arms, effectively pinning you down.

Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your breaths coming out in quick, panicked gasps.

“Kai!” you protested.

He bent over you and grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand, his plague doctor mask inches from your face. “You wanted me to touch you,” he whispered. “Now you’re going to get what you asked for.”

The look in his eyes wasn’t as controlled as before. Sure, the disgust and hunger were still there. But there were more emotions now, peaking through the cracks of his practiced façade. Anger, contempt, fear, desire, longing... and something else; something wild and unhinged.

Something within him was on the verge of breaking, of being set free, and you were the one responsible.

He straightened himself up and returned his gloved hand to your sopping core, his cock once again in his bare hand. His thumb found its home again, nestled firmly against your engorged clit.

He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t slow. Instead, his thumb ran swift, relentless circles, the digit igniting every frayed nerve. Each swipe had you crying out as wave after wave of sharp, jagged pleasure assaulted you, without so much as a second of recovery in between. And as Chisaki raced you towards that inevitable cliff, his own hand pumped himself hard and fast. His strokes began to become erratic, his composure slowly slipping as you began to unravel before him, your whines and cries luring him to follow you to the point of no return. You could feel his own legs began to spasm against your inner thighs, his hips beginning to jut forward with each drag of his palm along his hard shaft. The gap between your two bodies began to close, until you could feel the tip of him brush against your core. In that instant, you came undone beneath him with his name spilling from your drooling lips.

The temptation was too much. He entered you as you came, his cock burying itself within your clenching walls with a single thrust. Your legs wrapped around him instantly as your body exploded into a mess of tears, shrieks, and trembles. With one hand on your hip and one working your clit, he fucked you through your orgasm as you cried and panted, his own grunts joining your one-person symphony as you felt every fiber of your being shatter with white hot pleasure. It was all-consuming, disorienting. You weren’t even sure you were a person anymore. You could feel nothing else, see nothing else except the man inside of you, hovering over you, filling your existence.

It didn’t stop. Even after you were a blubbering mess, tears streaming down your cheeks, your thighs and cunt sore, Chisaki kept going, his cock reaching new depths as it dragged against your spasming, sensitive walls. His breaths were heavy, each pant labored until he ripped his mask off his face. It was like a switch had been flipped, changing Chisaki from a man in control to nearly animalistic. Teeth bared, sweat beading across his forehead, golden eyes absolutely feral. His thrusts took you past your orgasm, unrelenting, and you cried and babbled for him to stop, it was too much, your body couldn’t take anymore. But even as your string of incoherent words begged for the end, your body spoke of a different kind of freedom, your legs tightening around Chisaki’s waist in an effort to pull him impossibly deeper into you.

Chisaki snarled, releasing his hand from your cunt as he continued to fuck you, and removed his remaining glove with his teeth. Suddenly, the white fabric was being shoved into your mouth, gagging your broken words behind its white cotton that smelled and tasted of you.

“Shut up.” He growled.

You could see the hives breaking out across his damp, flushed skin now at the contact, but it no longer seemed to matter to him. And it didn’t matter to you either. You were wrapped up delirium, your eyes glossing over and rolling into your head with each drive of Chisaki’s hips. Your hips couldn’t even keep up with his thrusts anymore; his movements were too rough, too fast. All you could do was lay there and receive him as he pounded you without restraint. That familiar knot was forming again, a dark beast built from the broken pieces of the last. It was a terrifying thing, a formidable presence that you felt building within yourself that would surely decimate you.

“This is what you really wanted, isn’t it?” Chisaki grunted through clenched teeth. “You wanted me to fuck you senseless, to ruin this tight pussy of yours like the greedy, selfish bitch you are.”

His words washed over you and you gave the faintest of nods, your mouth still gagged.

“So, you’re going to take what I give you. You’re going to cum when I say, as often as I say.” His cock hit deep as his thumb gave a final press against your clit. “Now.”

You screamed around the cotton in your mouth, back arching and arms straining against the wood trapping you as the tension finally erupted. It tore through your veins, making your fluids gush and your pussy clench like a vice around Chisaki’s pumping cock. Not a moment later, you heard him groan followed by the hot sensation of his cum coating your walls. It only enhanced the waves of pleasure still wrecking you and your pussy milked him greedily as he emptied himself in you.

The comedown felt like it would never arrive. Your nerves still sang too loudly, the aches echoed too deep. But finally, Chisaki’s hips stuttered to a stop and your own body lay limp beneath him. It felt like you were submerged under water, every sense dulled or muted, as you stared hazily at the ceiling. Chisaki was still in you, his dick twitching sensitively each time your body gave a weak aftershock. You had thought he would pull out, leave you there like the ruined mess you were to go clean himself up. Now doubt he’d return to his senses any moment and be repulsed by what transpired.

But he never did. Instead, he braced himself over you, his heavy, hot breaths coating your exposed skin as he settled through his own comedown while you warmed his cock. You felt the desk ripple beneath you and suddenly your arms were freed from their restraints, the wooden surface back to its original state. A moment later, he filled your view as he leaned over you, and you had a brief moment of panic, wondering if you were next. Was he going to overhaul you now? After all, he got what he wanted...

But he never did that either. Instead, he removed the glove from your mouth as his eyes traced over your face, marking every feature, every nuance. Your parted, chapped lips... your glossy, sweat-stained skin... the exhaustion in your eyes... His thumb came up to wipe away at the tears drying along your cheekbones before running the smooth pad over your lower lip.

Then he did something you didn’t anticipate, something that surprised you above all else. He bent down and captured your mouth with his, his wet tongue gliding into your stunned, open mouth. It was strangely slow, uncharacteristically tender, and entirely unexpected. The fog you’d been swimming in a moment before lifted slightly, and you began to kiss him back, your arm wrapping up around his shoulders before tangling your fingers into his damp, auburn locks at the base of his neck.

Whatever it was, it was short-lived. He brought a hand up to grasp the hand you had around his neck, his fingers twining with yours as he placed your hand back down on the desk, pinning you within his hold. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at you with a dark smirk tugging the corners of his wet lips. And his eyes... his eyes burned gold like the sun. Not a beautiful, gentle gold that kissed open delicate flowers and melted winter snow. No, this was a force of unrelenting destruction, the kind that burned deserts, scorched forests... and melted wax wings.

You were Icarus, fueled by foolishness and arrogance. You’d flown too close, fueled by a false sense of confidence that you could handle whatever it was that lurked within him, that your lust was enough to match his. But you were quickly learning you couldn’t. His fire burned too hot, his hunger too deep. He was going to devour you until there was nothing left. And really, what did you expect from a man who denied himself every human urge in his quest for perfection?

The sun could never be controlled.

And Pandora’s box can never be closed.

Slowly, he lowered his face next to yours until you could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

“Again.”

#overhaul x reader #Kai Chisaki x reader #overhaul smut #mha smut #bnha smut #tw:bondage #tw:masturbation #tw:degradation #tw:overstimulation #tw:aggression #bnharem collab

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Dancing

Day 32 Post 1 by @honouraryweasley12

Title: Dancing Author/Artist: honouraryweasley12 Pairing: Ron/Hermione Prompt: Masquerade Ball/Special Event Rating: M Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Smut, Language

The knock on her office door interrupted Hermione's thoughts. She'd been hunched over for several hours since lunch, studying the tiny, almost illegible text of an ancient book about Centaurs.

"Come in!"

The door creaked open and Ginny strode into the small, cramped office, waving a piece of parchment. She tossed it onto the desk, covering the page. Hermione recognized it immediately.

"Just thought I'd pop in. Are you and Ron going to this thing next week?"

She had read the invite to the Ministry event the night before, amidst a flurry of complaints from Ron.

"Yes, it's mandatory."

"Did you see the date?"

"I know, the first of March. Ron was not thrilled that we'd have to postpone his birthday celebrations."

"I can imagine." Ginny smirked, before waggling her eyebrows. "Did you have anything special planned?"

"What we do in the privacy of our bedroom—"

"Who said anything about the bedroom?" Ginny asked innocently, trying to get a rise out of her friend.

Hermione wagged a warning finger. "I know you, Ginny Weasley." She frowned. "It would be nice to do something for him on the day; he was so disappointed."

"At least it's in a nice place," Ginny remarked, referring to the estate where the event was being held. "The food will be good—that alone should please my brother."

"That's true," Hermione remarked glumly. "I'm sure it'll be fine, but I know his birthday is important to him."

"What's the big deal? He's turning twenty-three. It's not exactly a milestone."

"I know, I know. He told me once that growing up, his birthday was the only day when he felt like he was the centre of attention, so I like to make an extra special effort."

Ginny nodded. "He's not wrong, I suppose."

Hermione rolled her head from side to side, a cracking sound from her stiff neck echoing around her office.

"Looks like he's not the only one who needs some pampering."

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "I'm used to it."

"You should do something nice for yourself. Even I know you're working yourself too hard."

"Like what?"

Ginny pondered for a moment, before bouncing up in her seat. "I have an idea."

Hermione looked at her wearily. "What is it?"

The redhead nodded toward the invitation on her desk. "Did you see the part about muggle clothing being encouraged? What are you planning on wearing?"

"I don't know. I guess a gown. Maybe the one I wore to Percy's wedding last fall."

"You always wear things my mother would approve of. You're still young! How about something fun and sexy?"

Hermione scoffed. "I've seen some of the things you wear, Ginny."

She raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with what I wear?"

"You show a lot of… skin. Which is completely fine, but you don't work with these people."

"C'mon, live a little. I know my brother would still be mad about you if you were wearing a potato sack, but just imagine his reaction if you wear something a bit different."

"I don't know…"

"I promise, I won't go too crazy. It's Ron's birthday after all, wouldn't he enjoy seeing you in something less… proper?"

Hermione sighed, her willpower slipping away. "Yes, he would."

"Harry and Ron will be away this weekend taking new recruits into the field, so it's the perfect opportunity to go shopping." Ginny stood up and grabbed her invitation, before making her way to the door. "I'll meet you at yours at noon on Saturday."

"I don't see how this is treating myself."

"We'll stop at a bookshop then." The determined look on her friend's face was enough for Hermione to throw her hands up in the air.

"Fine!"

"That's the spirit." Ginny flashed her a cheeky grin and closed the door behind her.

"Weasleys," Hermione muttered to herself, before returning to her book.

~*~

Hermione stepped out of the ornate fireplace, her magically-extended clutch in hand. Ginny followed closely behind her, the two stopping to admire the tastefully decorated ballroom of the old estate house.

The brunette witch glanced around, hoping to see the familiar red hair of her love bobbing above the crowd, but was unable to spot him. She glanced at the thin silver watch on her wrist, a gift from Ron when she graduated from Hogwarts.

Ginny thrust a flute of champagne into Hermione's hand. "Will you relax? They'll be here soon. You know they have their Friday evening briefing first. Harry told me they were going to shower and change at the Ministry, then come straight here."

"I'm just nervous, that's all," Hermione replied as she nodded hello to a member of the Wizengamot who passed by, before taking a gulp of the fizzy sweet drink.

"You look great! Ron is going to go mental when he sees you."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, referring to the outfit she'd purchased with Ginny's help before downing the rest of her glass.

The result of their shopping excursion was a shimmery silver cocktail dress that hugged her curves and stopped mid-thigh. The two thin straps holding up the garment revealed her uncovered back and shoulders. All of this was set off with a pair of black heels. Her normally bushy hair tumbled down in soft waves, aided by half-a-bottle of Sleekeazy's.

Ginny nodded. "Absolutely."

A slight murmur behind them signified the arrival of one Harry Potter, his presence causing the usual stir, even years after the end of the war. He shook a few hands as he made his way over to the two of them, kissing Ginny and giving a hug to his friend.

"Wow, you look great, Hermione! I heard all about the new outfit."

"Thank you, Harry." She glanced over his shoulders, searching. "Where's Ron?"

He chuckled. "He's on his way, should be here any second."

Hermione held her breath as she spotted ginger hair towering above the crowd. She put a hand in the air and waved him over.

Ron fought his way through the guests that were starting to amass, making a beeline in their direction. Just as he was about to reach them, Ginny winked at Hermione and jumped into his path, wrapping him up in a hug and drawing his attention.

"Happy birthday, Ron!"

He patted her on the back. "Thanks, Gin."

Before letting go of the embrace, she whispered. "The dress was my present."

"What dress?" he asked as she angled him toward Harry and Hermione.

Ron's jaw dropped as he took in the outfit Hermione was wearing. She blushed at his hungry gaze, as she herself gawked at how fit he looked in his suit.

"Hey, Ron."

Harry's greeting went completely unnoticed as Ron stepped forward, his eyes never leaving Hermione's. He pulled her against him, his hand splayed across the bare skin of her back.

"You look fucking hot," he growled into her ear, causing her to shiver.

She ran her own hand up and down the back of his dark suit jacket, relishing how solid he felt. "So do you."

He teased her ear, hidden by her hair. "We'd better get on with it. The sooner we're done mingling, the sooner we can get out of here and… celebrate my birthday."

She nodded as he pulled away, her face flush. As he turned to speak to Harry, another server passed by and she grabbed drinks for the two of them, needing to calm herself down. His reaction had far exceeded her expectations.

She caught Ginny's eye, the look on her face clearing stating I told you so. Hermione shrugged and grinned, before passing Ron his glass.

The night went on as they moved from dignitary to dignitary. Every so often, she'd catch him staring down at her, his desire clear. She didn't shy away though, challenging his gaze and communicating her own wants.

The teasing went on as they mingled, her hand reaching up to play with the red locks at the back of his neck. Hermione knew Ron loved it when she did that, causing him to give her a subtle squeeze as he laughed at the joke of some minister she wasn't familiar with.

His arm had been around her waist the whole time, almost possessively. As the minister turned away, she shuddered as he ran his hand up and down her side, his feather light touch just grazing the side of her breast.

"Want to dance?"

She nodded and downed her drink, dropping the empty glass on a nearby table before he led them out to the dance floor. She smoothly slid her small clutch into his jacket pocket, before wrapping her arms around his neck.

His strong arms encircled her waist, his thumb teasing patterns across her skin. "Have I told you how much I like it when you wear stuff like this?"

Hermione grinned. "No, you haven't told me, at least not with words."

Ron smiled, his hungry look returning as one of his hands dipped lower, brushing her backside as they turned in slow circles—ignoring the music but enjoying the game. He closed the distance and pressed a kiss to her lips, dragging his teeth across her bottom lip, leaving her aching for more.

He buried his face her neck, inhaling her scent before whispering in her ear. "Want to find somewhere quiet?"

The combination of his hot breath, his arms around her, and the loosening of her inhibitions from the alcohol brought on a sense of recklessness. They had been dancing around it all night. He wanted her, and she wanted him just as much.

"Yes."

They stole away from the crowded ballroom, their hands clasped together as need drove them to find some privacy. They checked a few doors in the massive estate until they found a small parlour. Ron whipped out his wand and fired off protections.

Their lips crashed together in a matter of seconds, frantic with the desire that had been building up all evening. Ron lifted her up, mimicking their first kiss, and walked her to the far end of the room. He set her down and turned her around, breaking their heated kiss. Pinning her against a wall with his firm body, he pushed aside her hair, his mouth finding that spot on the back of her neck that he knew so well.

"Oh, yes!"

He continued downward, kissing and tasting her naked back, causing her to gasp, her ragged breathing the loudest sound in the room.

"You look so fucking sexy in this," he said, before sliding his hand up her thigh and underneath her dress.

"Yes, touch me. I want to feel your hands on me."

His large hand palmed her between her legs, causing her to moan even louder. "Fuck, I love that sound."

"More," she cried out, grinding against his fingers. She loved the feeling of him taking control and pleasuring her.

His other hand snaked up to the front of her dress, reaching for her covered breast. Having his amazing attention in two different places was sending shockwaves to her core.

She mewled as he increased the pressure, his actions becoming rougher and more primal. She loved it but wanted to feel him. Wanted to feel what she did to him.

"Are you hard for me?"

"Check for yourself," he grunted, letting go of her and turning her to face him.

He kissed her hard, his hands cupping her face as she stroked his obvious arousal through his tailored suit pants. He moaned in her mouth from the contact. She in turn threw her head back as he trailed his lips to her cheek, then down to her neck, sucking and biting. They were ravenous for each other.

Her hand flew into his hair, jerking at the ginger strands as she pleaded for more. "Ron, please."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me, quickly!" she begged, her words brazen in the elegant room. Her hand went to his zipper and tugged it down, before slipping into the opening and wanking him forcefully.

"Shit, Hermione."

"Now, Ron, please! Take me from behind!"

In one quick motion, he spun her around again and pulled roughly at her hips. He bunched the dress around her waist, exposing her delectable bum. The smack of his hand across her arse cheek echoed, leaving a pink mark on her flesh and causing Hermione to groan and push herself toward him in overheated desperation.

"Yes, more!"

He slapped her other cheek this time, eliciting another strangled groan. Her wanton reactions were too much for him as he yanked aside her soaked knickers and guided himself into her.

She moaned loudly as he entered, her cries shrill as he filled her completely.

"Yes, feels so good!"

His fingers dug into her hips as he thrust slowly at first, his grunts increasing in time with his efforts.

"Fucking take it, Hermione."

She called over her shoulder, her fingers clawing at the wall in ecstasy. "Harder, Ron! I've wanted this all night! Wanted you all night!"

He continued his pace, his groans mingling with her own. Half-leaning against the wall now, she found her most sensitive spot and began rubbing furious circles, urgently needing to get off.

"Love it when you play with your yourself," he panted as he thrust into her. "You gonna come on my cock as I fuck you?"

She nodded, his raw dirty words and relentless pounding spurring her on. Her lips were pressed into a thin firm line as she felt herself reaching her peak, crying out his name. That was enough to set him off as well, as he throbbed and spilled inside of her, burying his face in her hair as he fought to catch his breath.

She sagged against the wall, his delicious weight pressing against her as her chest heaved. After a moment, she turned to face him, seeking out his lips as they shared a lazy kiss, the taste of alcohol prevalent. They broke apart, and as they stared at each other, Hermione couldn't help but flash him a big smile.

"Enjoyed that, did you?" His deep voice rumbled.

"Mmmm, very much so. I take it you liked the dress."

He grinned. "I think that's an understatement."

They quickly cleaned themselves up and got their clothing straightened out. The effects of the champagne were still working on Hermione as she leered at him in his suit and licked her lips.

"Shall we finish our rounds and then go home? It might be your birthday, but I have one big candle to blow."

Ron laughed and shook his head. "Happy fucking birthday to me."

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

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Purple is a good a colour | Helmut Zemo

Requested by @anteroom-of-death

I changed your request a little bit because I didn't know how to make the whole prison guard thing work into it.

Implied smut. Mostly just build up.

There was something Zemo wanted to do. A little idea that had come to him a little while back. Normally he would never do this, but due to your obsession with the character, and the fact he honestly looked the look, he would do this for you.

You weren't home right now. You had taken a walk, as you did most days, so this allowed him time to prepare.

Maybe it was the colour purple that you like so much. All the interesting villains seem to wear purple in some aspect. Perhaps that why you were so lured to him.

He chuckles at the thought, doing up his vest. He admired the pattern in the mirror. He actually looked really good in it. Grabbing the jacket, he tugs it on.

This was many layers to remove later, but he was sure you would have your fun with it.

He straightened out the collar and heard the door open downstairs. You were home. He did one final check in the mirror and went to sit on the end of the bed, feet crossed at the ankles, hands intended in his lap.

You would come up sooner or later.

It was quiet for a few minutes, and then he heard you call his name. It was obvious you were looking for him. He chuckled quietly to himself.

"Helmut?" You were just down the hall. "Hello?"

"In here, my love."

You push open the door, prepared to say something, but all words are caught in your throat as you stare at the sight in front of you. You blink a couple of times as you take in what you're seeing.

"Is that-?

"Do you like it?" He grins, opening his arms a little, showing off the outfit.

"That's... that's the Master's suit from Doctor Who." You look him up and down.

"Yes. It is. Trailer made, by the way."

Of course it was, why wouldn't it be? Zemo would want it to be perfect on him. You rolled your eyes and chuckled, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Why?"

"You like him don't you?" He asks, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Well, yeah. He is one of my top characters from the show. Why are you cosplaying him?" You laugh softly.

"Because I thought you would like it."

You walk a little closer to where he is sitting, smiling softly. You look him up and down once again.

"You do look really good."

He looks at you smugly, you're close enough he could grab you and pull you into his lap, but he doesn't. He just watches you, lips curled upward. There's a mischievous glint in his eye.

"You're missing one little thing," you say, standing between his now open legs.

"What is that?"

"Well, at the end of the series, he was this really attractive beard. Kind of suits his mad man persona." You reach out and place yours hands on either side of his face. You caress his cheeks gently. He smiles under your touch.

"Perhaps next time I'll get it right."

You smile and lean in really close. His hands raise and loops around your waist. He pulls you in closer. You kiss him softly, hands wandering down his neck to his chest.

Purple was definitely his colour. God, he looked so good in it. You push the jacket from his shoulders. He only let's go long enough to take it off, his hands returning to you right after. You toss the purple coat to the side and straddle his lap.

You lean back and trail the row of buttons down the vest. You nibble at your lower lip as you do so, moving your finger slowly. Zemo watched your hand with curious dark eyes.

You pop a button. His eyes flicker back up to yours, smirk tugging at his lips still. You pop another, and another. You do it slowly, drawing it out. When the last button is open, you leave the rest sitting there, trailing your hand over his shirt.

"You know, there is one specific thing you have in common with that version of the Master that I love. Other than the fact you both look so good in purple," you say, looking up at his face.

"What is that?"

"Your eyes. You both have stunning dark eyes."

The way he looks at you, it's so soft and gentle. There seems to be a little surprise on his face. He hadn't been expecting you to say something so lovely.

You push the vest off him the rest of the way and toss it to the side.

"I feel bad undressing you. You looked rather smart in that suit."

"Oh, I put it on with the intention of you taking it off," he chuckles.

You give him a little kiss.

"You're keeping it, right?"

"That was the intention."

"Good. My very own Master."

"Careful, my dear. You might have started something we can't go back on."

You grin at him.

"Maybe I like that idea."

He pulls you right down against him, kissing you in a much more hungry manner than before.

You push him back so he lays back against the bed. You sit up and look down at him, slightly flushed.

"There is one person I love more than the Master though."

"Who is that?"

You chuckle.

"You, silly. My handsome Baron."

He smiles up at you.

"That's the right answer. Now, are we keeping these on, or are these coming off too? It's not that I don't love your compliments, but these pants are becoming quickly uncomfortable."

You grin.

"I am aware. I can feel it," you tease him.

Zemo pulls you dow to him again to kiss you. It was going to be a long night.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @belle82devart @hb8301 @stardancerluv @killeromanoff @cathrin2405 @zemosimp420 @charistory @sleepyflutist18 @supercharged-tatertot @belle82devart @sexyundeadtrash

#helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #zemo #marvel #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier

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blushnote · 3 years

Text

↳ requested | 1.6k words

↳ dom!wonwoo smut

a/n: HELLO. i’m sure everyone is wondering what’s going on and WHY i’ve been absent for a few months. put simply: things got hectic and i needed a break! i’m not saying i’ll jump back into being completely active again, but that i’m going to come on as often as i can! (which might be every few days or so! i apologize!!)

as a treat for everyone - this features rich girl wonwoo! <3

wonwoo stands at the street pole, conversing with his friends. the bar is unusually crowded. mostly likely because it’s a friday and there isn’t much else the townspeople would rather do than get plastered, forgetting the atrocities of work. his friend extends a box of cigarettes to wonwoo, offers him one, but he shakes his head.

since getting involved with you, wonwoo has attempted to forfeit smoking. it has always been something he’s done to pass the time at the street corner. plus, he likes the idea of blowing a big, stinging cloud right into someone’s face when they give him attitude.

instead wonwoo suckles on a lollipop that tastes like an artificially sweet strawberry, pushes up the bridge of his glasses, and folds some silvery hair under his beanie. he knows it’s about the right time for you to be returning from that dinner party your parents forced you into attending.

as wonwoo’s friend exaggerates a tale about getting into a fist-driven confrontation at a bus stop last week, someone strutting by on the packed street bumps wonwoo’s shoulder.

“choose a better place to stand.” the stranger rumbles, agitated.

wonwoo flicks up his middle finger indifferently. “fuck off.” he grunts, the fog of his breath appearing in the night air.

he’s feeling sort of agitated himself. your parents have tethered you to a leash lately, forcing you to all these fancy gatherings and opening ceremonies and dinners. to put it frankly – wonwoo misses you. your laugh, your eyes, the texture of your skin, your voice in his ear. he’s been wanting an excuse to get his hands all over you. every single inch.

that’s when he hears the ding in his jacket pocket. looking away from the dramatic enactment involving his friend driving a fist into his palm, wonwoo checks his phone to see a text from you. a series of images.

23:28 // JPEG.1034

23:28 // JPEG.1035

23:28 // JPEG. 1036

the three pictures load. he chokes on his breath.

23:28 // i know u don’t like when i spoil my lingerie but.

23:28 // don’t i look so cute :( so fuckable?? im srry but I had to :(

his teeth crack the strawberry lollipop into sugary shards in his mouth. that lace is squeezing your flesh in all the right places. the picture with your fingers splayed teasingly over your underwear, hiding your core, it’s enough to make him shudder, salivate even. he’s officially ignoring his friend’s story by tapping a reply, fiddling with the thin stick in his mouth.

(ww) 23:30 // u free now? head to my place.

he receives an answer immediately.

23:30 // hmmm why?

(ww) 23:30 // u know why. don’t act like such a brat.

already, wonwoo can sense the desire form inside him. pounding almost. like a second heartbeat. you’re usually compliant and bending to his carnal whims. maybe all this time away from each other has you forgetting just how well wonwoo can fuck that stubbornness out.

23:30 // it’s new. i don’t want u ripping anything!!

(ww) 23:30 // idc.

23:30 // so mean!! not even gonna let u touch me now :-)

(ww) 23:30 // yeah. ok. we’ll see about it then.

after sliding his phone back in his pocket, wonwoo glances briefly in through the bar window. he sees a bartender pour a glass full of ice cubes before sloshing in a surge of alcohol. at that, wonwoo gets an idea. when his friends question about why he’s leaving so suddenly, he smirks.

“need to teach someone how to behave.” wonwoo shrugs before jogging quickly across the street.

“i’m not gonna tell you again. keep your fuckin’ thighs spread nice and wide for me or else i won’t let you cum – not even once. you understand?”

a harsh dip in your stomach suggests the breath you just inhaled. after a moment of silence, he hears you comply, and watches with his hungry, intent gaze as your legs part open for him. wonwoo has been teasing you with a bowl of ice cubes. at first, he held them to your nipples, had you whimpering into his mouth while he simultaneously rubbed his tongue against yours. but the real fun began when he introduced the ice cubes to your lower region. it was a very different punishment compared to his past endeavours, a tantalizing one.

wonwoo returns the cube to the nook of your inner thigh, then creeps it slowly toward your core. you’re beginning to tremble with the restraint required to not snap your legs shut. the ice cube ghosts transiently up your slit, a contact you had yet to experience, and a beautiful gasp tears from your lungs. he swears that you leak even more onto the sheets.

he takes the cube away, then drags his warm tongue from the bottom of your pussy right to the top, delivering a slow, flat lick which tastes sweet and cold and makes him so unbelievably dizzy with how much he loves it.

“w-wonwoo, please, pl-please keep going.” you stutter, opening your thighs even wider to invite his tongue.

he shakes his head. “what else did i tell you? don’t ask me to do anything. you’ll lie there and you’ll fuckin’ take it.” smiling, wonwoo issues a tight grip on the ice cube and presses it right into your clit. you whine sharp and loud, your hands traveling all over your body in confusion, not sure if it’s more pleasure than pain, or a hot mix of both.

“or are you still interested in acting like such a brat, hm?” wonwoo utters in his deep voice. “ like a smug little princess who thinks she can tease me whenever she wants and she’ll still get my cock all the way inside her? nice and full, just how she likes it. is that it, babygirl?”

he feels the ice melt under his fingers. you can hardly piece together a response, just a very incoherent, “no wonwoo” as tears start slipping down your cheeks. wonwoo takes the cube away, then massages your clit with his thumb, warming you up slowly. a few jolts pass through your body. he can tell you’re falling apart inside with how badly you want to cum, though wonwoo had strictly told you to hold it. he rubs and rubs and rubs, barking at you to control yourself, your pussy so slippery with arousal that it’s running all down your skin and wetting the bed.

right when he feels you’re about to snap, wonwoo completely removes his touch. you wail at that, suckle in a shaky breath and cry his name.

“please, wonwoo! i-i’m sorry, m’soso sorry! i’m sorry for acting so bratty and sending those pictures, t-teasing you like that! but i just c-ccan’t take this anymore. treat me however you want, but please let me cum!”

he’s truly missed the sound of you begging for him. his cock twitches in his pants, reminding him of how hard he currently is. each time you cry the boy’s name in such a lewd manner, there’s another surge of pleasure and he aches even more, to the point where he could cum just from touching himself over his clothes. still, wonwoo must ensure you’ve really learned your lesson. so, he offers you a deal. he’ll get to watch you pleasure yourself with the ice cube until he cums.

and so wonwoo sits in a chair based at the end of the bed, a hand stuffed down his pants, watching you swirl an ice cube at your sensitive core. he guides you every now and then: “hold it right there, pretty baby. let it melt all the way down. that’s it, sweetheart. n-now rub it, okay? f-finger yourself too. nnrgh, f-fuck. fuck you sound so wet. m’gonna c-cum—”

his strokes lash faster until wonwoo’s head rolls back against the chair, his eyes blinking shut while he chases his high. he hears you continue to whine as he cums, his cock throbbing in his hand, still so hard and heavy. in fact, wonwoo requires a moment just to breathe and let the heat circulate properly through his body.

with his fingers covered in the sticky mess of his cum, wonwoo approaches the bed again, fingering it as deep as he can inside you. he’s unable to remove his gaze from the filthy sight. there’s something so raw and intimate about watching his own seed getting pumped into you that sets his whole body aflame. he decides to let you orgasm as well, stimulating your g-spot consistently, letting you clamp down tight and ride his hand until you’ve got a full fix.

wonwoo supposes he’s done his job.

“i don’t think i’ll ever be able to look at an ice cube the same way again.” you laugh, sitting back against the headboard, tucked into his t-shirt.

drawing a warm washcloth between your thighs, wonwoo blinks at you, a very sly grin forming on his mouth. he plants a kiss on your nose.

“good. means it worked.” the boy says.

he folds the cloth over and finishes the last of his cleaning, ensuring there’s nothing more of his fluids that are still leaking out or anything sticking from your orgasm. grabbing your overnight bag off the floor, wonwoo pulls out a fresh pair of underwear and helps you slide into them. your lingerie sits in a pile off to the side, a few lace straps ripped.

“sorry about your little outfit.” wonwoo apologizes, staring at you earnestly. “it was pretty. you look good in everything.” he squeezes your hip and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“it’s okay.” you murmur. “i’ll order something even better. and i’ll surprise you with it. maybe for your birthday. sound good?”

“mmhm.” wonwoo purrs, pulling you down with him to cuddle up close for the night.

“as long as i can take it off you, sweetheart, i’m fine with that.”

#seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #svt smut #jeon wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #svt fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #svt x reader #wonwoo x reader

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perriewinklenerdie · 3 years

Text

Anything you want (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 3,1 k

Summary: They go home together for an encore. Added content to OH3 Chapter 7

Warnings: NSFW, strong language, by viewing this work, you consent that you’re 18+.

A/N: The dress in the chapter wasn’t tragic in my opinion but it’s not stellar either - so I went ahead and changed it.

The entire Diagnostic Team let out a collective sigh of relief when Leland Bloom turned around on his heel and walked away. After a whole evening of schmoozing and rubbing elbows with wealthy morons, all Ethan wanted to do was go home. And take Claire with him, if he had any say in it.

Tobias finished a phone call, turning towards the group. “I think we can call the evening a success.” Harper nodded, slipping her arms into her coat. “Let’s hope this sedates him for a while.”

“If by ‘a while’ you mean until tomorrow, then I think you’re right.” Ethan scoffed, but not at Tobias – and they all knew that, without the need to see a hint of a smirk on his lips. Their boss was getting on everyone’s nerves and the last thing they needed was an inside fight. Claire and Harper were ecstatic about it – maybe they would finally start getting along more and the team could move on from the weird tension that developed with a new addition to it.

“I say, let’s stop thinking about work and just enjoy the rest of the evening, however you might choose to spend it.” Tobias concluded, waving his hand at the group of doctors in front of him, then turned to Ethan with a grin. “I called you a cab too, E.”

Claire scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest with a challenging look in her eyes. “What about me? Is that some special treatment I’m sensing?”

“Nothing of the sort, Herondale, I just figured that since you two were so handsy with each other all evening, one cab for the two of you would be perfectly fine.”

Her mouth fell open as she tried to answer, but no sound came out. Instead, she laughed, shaking her head at her new acquaintance. Ethan grinned, not even trying to deny it, his eyes finding Claire’s, sharing a private look with her.

As their cabs arrived and they all separated, Harper called out after the couple. “Don’t be late to work tomorrow or Bloom will have your asses!”

“And try to not scar the poor cab driver with making out in the backseat.” Tobias added, winking at them before getting into his cab.

Ethan opened the door for Claire, sitting down next to her in the darkness. Their car turned around and started towards his apartment. The driver seemed to be too occupied with what was happening on the road to notice two doctors that were trying to be on their best behavior. ‘Trying’ being the key word.

They got out of the car as soon as they could, leaving a hefty tip to make up for his wandering hands and whispers that might not have been whispers. He wouldn’t know, he was too occupied with his girlfriend.

Ethan threw Claire over his shoulder, laughing at her surprised gasp. Henry, a friendly older man that worked in the lobby of Ethan’s apartment building, and who Ethan – and now Claire – were friends with, saw them and smirked, nodding at the pair wordlessly. It wasn’t the first time he saw the older doctor so loved up with his beautiful partner, and he hoped they wouldn’t lose that spark.

Claire did the only thing she could, given how fast Ethan was walking towards the elevator, and waved at Henry with a happy grin.

Elevator door closed behind them, leaving them in the privacy of the four metal walls. Claire slid down his body, stopping right above his hips, knees squeezing his sides as he held her up with his hands, gripping the undersides of her thighs.

Their gazes crossed, want clear in the way he touched her and looked at her. She ran her fingers through his hair slightly, the carefully put together hairstyle now slightly dismantled.

“I think I just messed up your hair.”

“Feel free to destroy it completely.” he muttered, nuzzling his nose against hers. She tried to kiss him, but he shook his head and opted to kiss her cheek instead “If I kiss you now, we’re going to have sex in the elevator.” She opened her mouth to say something - he beat her to it. “I wouldn’t mind, but I doubt Henry would appreciate it.”

“In that case, you better get me home.”

As he opened the door, Claire dug her hands into the pockets of his jacket, embracing him from behind. Standing on the tips of her toes, she kissed his ear and whispered. “Hurry up.” He stuttered, the keys in his hands shaking slightly. He made a definitive move, unlocking the door and twisting around. His arms went around her and he pulled her onto him, kissing her with abandon as her body pressed his into the door. His tongue ran along her lips and the moment she granted him access, his hand started searching for the handle in great haste. The door fell open with a quiet hum and they would have fallen onto the ground if it wasn’t for her quick thinking that caused her to twist them around. She pushed him inside, kicking the door closed with her heel, then pulled on his neck to slam them against the wooden panel.

“Do you know what’s been on my mind the whole evening?”

“I have a feeling but enlighten me.”

“Every time you looked at me.” He whispered, kissing her in between his sentences, each kiss more heated than the last. “Every smile you gave me.” His hands found their place at her back, pressing them flush against each other. “Every time you laughed or so much as said a word.” He pressed his forehead to hers, looking deeply into her eyes, growling his last words. “It made me think of the sounds you were going to make for me.” His hips pressed against hers, drawing a sigh out of her. “I would have made you scream back on that balcony if I could.”

“I was hoping you would.” She panted, gliding her hands up and down his arms.

“I still can.” He replied, slowly falling to his knees before her. “And I will.”

Without much of a preamble, he brushed his fingers up her legs, pushing the fabric of her dress upwards until it bunched around her hips. With unhurried movements, he hooked his index fingers into her panties and pulled, dragging them down until they fell to the floor, neither of them giving it a second thought.

Her shoes came next, one after the other, pressing loving kisses to her calves.

He looked at her with a storm in his eyes. “Hold onto my shoulders.”

And then he dove forward, letting his tongue swipe through her folds, lazily, tasting and testing her limits. Her hands grabbed him immediately, a soft sigh slipping past her lips. She’s always been responsive to every little thing he did - and he knew it damn well, judging by the smirk he was currently sporting on his face as he picked up his pace a little bit, moving his hands to the back of her thighs to press her even closer to him.

Chasing the sound he so desperately wanted to hear, he moved upwards a fraction, finding her clit and pressing on it with the tip of his tongue. A broken moan escaped her, her grip on his jacket tightening so much that her knuckles began to turn white.

Encouraged, he fully focused on that spot, closing his mouth around it and sucking gently, then with more force, alternating between the two paces. Playing her like his cello.

Claire moved her fingers towards his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair when his teeth grazed a sensitive bundle of nerves, moaning his name into the dead of the night. He squeezed her ass, staring up at her, savoring the flush on her cheeks, the hungry eyes she was giving him and the absolute look of ecstasy that slowly overtook her features. She was close, so close that keeping her voice down was becoming impossible. And he didn’t want her to be quiet. He moved one of her legs onto his shoulder, then the other, balancing her with his hands.

“Come for me.”

He grinned widely when she gave him a sigh, then went in for the kill and focused on pushing her over the edge. The new position changed the angle only slightly, but just enough to make her sing him praises the moment his lips made contact with her soft flesh again.

Alternating between firm strokes and insistent lapping, he made her rise higher and higher, her voice following suit as she whimpered and chanted his name until she pulled on his hair and came, her eyes falling shut. Ethan squeezed her again, a silent plea for her to keep looking at him as he guided her through it.

Their eyes met and remained locked long after the sparks stopped coming. Claire laughed breathily, sliding her legs off his shoulders slowly. He held her upwards, anticipating the weakness of her knees, stroking her thighs gently.

“How was that?”

“Like you have to ask.” She scoffed, brushing his hair back tenderly. Ethan smirked.

“I just love hearing you tell me how good I am.”

“How about I show you just how good you are?”

Claire pulled him up to his feet, then pushed on his shoulders to guide them towards the bedroom, stripping him of his clothes along the way. His jacket. On the floor. His shirt. Hanging off the door. His pants. Forgotten by the bed.

When she reached for his underwear, he caught her hand. “Not so fast. You’re overdressed.”

“I thought you liked the dress.”

“I do. Which is why I want to rip it in half.”

He reached for the zipper of her dress, dragging it down with surprising gentleness of movements, taking his sweet time to uncover each part of her body. The fabric didn’t even hit the ground before she kicked it away from them. His hands flew up to her sides immediately, feeling every and any part of her he could reach. The tips of his fingers trailed a path up her back, reaching the clasp of her bra, but before he could undo it, she shook her head and moved his hands back to her hips.

“You had your fun. Now it’s my turn.” She muttered, then hooked her fingers beneath his underwear and tugged, pushing it down his legs the same way he pushed hers a while back.

With a sly smirk, she sat him on the edge of the bed and sank down to her knees, once again mirroring his moves. With the tip of her finger, she traced nonsensical patterns along his inner thigh while leaning forward to plant a path of openmouthed kisses from one hipbone to the other. A shiver ran through him, making him realize that he was entirely at her mercy, not for the first time, and – he hoped – not for the last time.

Claire seemed to make it her point to avoid eye contact – she didn’t even so much as glance up before she ran her tongue over the tip of his cock. His mind perked up instantly, acutely aware of even the smallest of her movements.

She closed her lips around him, sucking gently, drawing out a whimper out of him that sounded like a plea. When she licked along the vein on the underside, the whimper turned into a rather insistent moan.

Only when she finally took him into her mouth, inch by glorious inch, did she make eye contact with him. Dark eyes, pulling him further into the whirlwind of ecstasy she provided, the small hums she let out creating the most delicious vibrations that sent him flying even higher off the ground. And a playful spark, telling him that she knew exactly what she was doing when she denied him the luxury of staring into her eyes as she began her exploration.

Ethan’s fingers flew to her hair, guiding her gently as she worked, up and down his length in a slow and rhythmic pattern, familiar sparks of electricity running over his spine. Before he could stop himself, a very vivid and a very insistent image flooded his mind, and his mouth was suddenly opening to speak.

“I had this dream and - fuck - you couldn’t keep your hands off me” he panted, his hips moving off the bed slightly when he felt her tongue join the movements of her lips once more.

“Really?” She murmured, having retreated and resorted to licking him slowly. With her hands, she undid the clasp of her bra and let the fabric fall to the ground somewhere behind them, neither caring where it landed. Ethan swallowed heavily. “You dream about me?”

“Every night”

“Well then, how about you show me what you dream of?”

His eyes darkened, blue turning into a shade so deep that she couldn’t tell what color they were, and suddenly she wasn’t on the floor anymore. Instead, she was seated in his lap, facing away from him, her legs spread wide, knees locking him in place. The mirror on the wall showed them both a picture of two people, perfectly fit for each other – so in love that they could see it in their eyes and bodies, despite having not said a word about the said emotion.

Ethan pressed his lips to her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “Are you ready?”

“Fuck me, Ethan.”

With a groan, he lifted her off his lap just enough so he could slide into her, letting her sink down with a shuddered breath. They remained that way for a moment or two, just feeling the closeness of one another. Ethan’s eyes fell shut, his forehead pressed against her shoulder, and he wondered what he did to get her. What number of good deeds did he manage to gather up for the universe to set her on his path.

All that debating was cut short when she squeezed her inner muscles, letting him know that she wanted them to move. He opened his eyes again, only to be met with the same image in the mirror. This time, however, it unlocked something primal in him, his body unable to stay put any longer, his brain craving anything she could give him.

His hands fell to her hips and he lifted her up slowly, letting her sink back onto him. And again, with shuddered breath brushing against the skin of her back. Their eyes met in the mirror as Claire picked up the pace herself, rising on her knees and falling.

“Look at you, taking me so well.” He whispered into her ear, looking at her the entire time. She bit her lip, sighing heavily.

Claire’s hand went behind her, reaching for his neck. With her fingers twisted into the hair at the back of his head, she pulled him closer, anchoring herself as he kissed her skin and stroked her from the inside. He had one palm spread over her chest, tracing her nipples and pinching them from time to time, while his other hand found itself a place between her legs, teasing her with fleeting touches.

She gripped his thigh with her free hand, holding onto him any way she could, panting heavily as the sensations continue to flow through her. Flooding her with mind-numbing pleasure, almost blinding her. Closing her eyes for just a moment, she tried to shield herself from it, when Ethan’s voice rang in her ear.

“Open your eyes.”

And she does, staring at the two of them, reflected in the mirror. Two lovers, entangled in each other, hands grabbing and pulling, mouths open in silent pleas. His hips snap up into her and she slams down onto him, the sound of skin hitting skin bordering on obscene. But they were alone, free to do whatever they wanted, even if it was to press each other’s naked bodies onto any surface available.

“Again. Give it to me again.” Ethan groans, unable to stop the urge to bite down on her shoulder when her muscles spasm around him exceptionally tightly, convincing him that he must have died and gone to heaven.

She moaned and stood up, which would have made him protest if it wasn’t for the fact that just a second later, she was climbing onto his lap again, facing him, wrapping her arms around his neck and sinking down onto him. His hands were full of her once more, grabbing her ass to guide her, giving as good as he was receiving.

With his head buried in her chest, kissing and nipping on her skin, making sure that there was no way she could wear a regular blouse the next day without exposing his marks, he pressed into her deeply, reaching his peak and muttering her name so many times that it’s become a blur with one common theme – devotion.

Claire nodded, pulling him close to her by his hair, her insistent movements helping him ride it out as she searched for the spark to throw her off the edge. His fingers, back in the same spot his mouth was at not that long ago, did the trick, circling and squeezing her until she cracked with a loud sigh.

Ethan leaned away, guiding her towards him so their lips could meet in a lazy kiss. He fell backwards onto the bed, pulling out and twisting them around so he could hover over her, hand on her hip as he explored her mouth leisurely. When they eventually separated, both breathing heavily, a relaxed smile washed onto his face. Claire observed him with a look of wonder.

“I like seeing you like this.”

“Sated after sex?”

“No.” she shook her head, very obviously trying not to laugh at his equally obvious attempt to crack a joke. “Relaxed. Happy.”

“Well, you make me very happy.” He responded, lying down and pulling her to his side, his lips pressing a warm kiss to her forehead. She sighed contentedly, letting her eyes close. Ethan’s voice broke the silence. “Are you?”

“What, happy?”

“Yeah.” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet, almost insecure. Like he was afraid of her answer. Claire propped herself on her elbow so she could look at him. Locking her eyes with his, she nodded softly.

“More than you can imagine.”

All the tension left his body, a wonderful smile lighting up his face. He reached up with his hand, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I think I can.”

Notes

Until further notice, I’m pulling the Mariah and I suddenly can’t read the ending. The balcony scene was good, though.

Thank you for reading! <3

Tagging separately

#ethan ramsey #open heart #playchoices

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