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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year

Text

Part 15 - Dress rehearsal

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 14 -- Part 16

Pairing: Sherlock x ofc

Summary: Sherlock and Elena can't seem to say goodbye to each other - even after spending the whole day together.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, Is it finally happening? fingering, oral (f receiving), thigh riding... Think that's it? Sherlock being Sherlock...

Word count: 5.9k

A/N: So yeah. Even I couldn't find another good reason to interrupt whatever was going down again - that would just be cruel. That being said, this wasn't entirely the direction I had planned for them to go in... There was definitely a playbook for this chapter and this wasn't it, I can tell you. ENJOY!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @peaches1958 @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill

“You were fantastic, Elena,” Sherlock said as they walked out of the theater. Dress rehearsal had ended, which meant they were now only a day away from the New Year’s concert, meaning Elena was beginning to experience something of a nervous breakdown. Sherlock, for the life of him, couldn’t imagine why; she was very good and thoroughly prepared. From his perspective, nothing could possibly go wrong. Elena was of a wholly different opinion, reliving the memories of that one time in primary school she had become violently sick before a performance. Those memories refused to fade no matter how long ago it was, and no matter how many successful performances she had tried to use to overwrite them. She was largely past her nerves when playing with a quartet, because over time it had become familiar, but this would be her first time ever playing with a full orchestra and the novelty of the experience frightened her to no end. Thus, Sherlock’s efforts in trying to convince her that she was good and everything would be fine were wasted, which is why he ceased them.

Sherlock Holmes was not the kind of man to try and convince someone who wouldn’t be convinced, Elena had learned, and since she wasn’t one to fish for compliments, she didn’t mind that Sherlock didn’t turn to what she considered to be ‘debased flattery’. He only ever attempted to calm her nerves with logic and reason, and - though his endeavors were fruitless - she appreciated that greatly. After the sixth or so attempt, logic simply dictated that it was time for him to stop trying.

“Suit yourself,” Sherlock said as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. Now, as opposed to his words, which did nothing to calm Elena’s nerves whatsoever, the physical contact did make her feel more comfortable. The weight of his arm on her shoulders had a strangely calming effect.

As always after rehearsals, he walked her home. It had started shortly after they had begun rehearsing together; the days had started to become shorter, and Sherlock had expressed his concerns about her walking home alone in the dark. At the time, he’d had no idea that the main reason for his worry had been his infatuation with her, he had simply brushed it off as a gentlemanly regard for her safety, and had convinced himself, though only partially successfully, that he would have felt the same way about any other female friend - not that he had any. Same as last week, he lingered when they arrived at the place Elena shared with three others, neither of them wanting to say goodbye to the other. They strongly disliked being apart, that much had become clear over the past two weeks.

“Sherlock, I was planning on making pasta, do you want to join me for dinner?” Her voice was almost trembling when she asked. Luckily, Sherlock accepted her invitation - though it was primarily based on the fact that he couldn’t find a logical argument not to; he hadn’t had dinner and he liked Italian food. And of course there was the emotional argument of allowing himself more time in her presence, but he was still getting used to giving in to those feelings, and therefore glad he could in this case supplement them with reason.

The door swung open behind them before Elena had even reached for her keys, and her roommate Kate appeared.

“I thought I heard you standing around here, talking, Ellie!” Elena jumped when she heard the unexpected noise behind her. Sherlock noticed that she spoke with a profound drawl to her voice, revealing her Southern heritage. The accent was very different from Sy’s, and Sherlock found himself utterly unable to narrow down its origins, which irked him.

“Katie! Oh my god, you almost gave me a heart attack!” She took a deep breath. “This is…” There was no time for her to finish that sentence, because Kate already had her eyes on him, wide with surprise. “Sherlock, obviously.”

“Yes,” Elena said as her cheeks slowly colored red. She couldn’t quite articulate what made her nervous all of a sudden, but she was fairly sure there was a part of her that was afraid Sherlock would think her roommate prettier than her.

“Lovely to meet you, Kate,” Sherlock said. He had heard many stories about Elena’s roommates over the weeks they had been rehearsing together, most of them good, and he wasn’t necessarily nervous about meeting them.

“We’ve met before, Sherlock,” Kate said with a big smile. Sherlock frowned, not in embarrassment over having forgotten the encounter, per se, but mostly in annoyance of having his memory fail him in this moment. The surprise on Elena’s face, however, was mostly just funny - which would explain why Kate laughed at it. Sherlock took a moment to take Kate in while he searched every crevice of his brain for a hint as to who she was and where they had met. She was a blonde, and pretty but not remarkably so. The most striking thing about her was her height, which rivaled his own. Elena had mentioned something about her being on the volleyball team, which would explain why he didn’t know her, but certainly was no clue as to why he had met her before. To say he wouldn’t be caught dead at a volleyball game would be an overstatement, but it certainly was more Mike’s or Sy’s territory. Or maybe Charles’ or Leon’s.

“Charles,” he muttered out loud as he chuckled, “you… know… Charles…”

“That’s a very polite way of putting it,” Kate laughed as she stepped aside to let Sherlock and Elena step into the apartment.

“I didn’t want you to think it was a judgment,” Sherlock said matter-of-factly, which made Kate laugh even harder.

“I couldn’t give a damn even if you were judging me, honey,” she said as she raised two hands to his face, but Elena stopped him.

“Tone down the Southern affections, sweetie,” she said.

“I can’t touch your man, Ellie?” Kate teased. She was well aware that there was probably a better reason than Elena’s jealousy - which Kate knew wasn’t something that actually existed - to keep her hands off Sherlock.

“Not if he doesn’t want you to, and he doesn’t like to be touched by people he doesn’t know.” It was Elena’s turn to speak in ways that left no room for discussion. Sherlock seemed pleasantly surprised upon hearing the remark - he always found it endearing when she unpromptedly showed him a glimpse of how well she knew him. It was true; he did indeed prefer to limit physical contact between himself and people he was poorly acquainted with - and most often also with people with whom he was better acquainted, though Elena was doing a stellar job at convincing him the occasional friendly touch wasn’t so bad, either.

“Alright, sugar, I’ll try to remember.” Kate had an exceptionally friendly smile that would make people feel at home instantly. Unless these people were anything like Sherlock, of course, who felt very out of place in this house he had never visited, with people he had never met.

“Remy and Larissa are out, they should be back some time after dinner, I have a study date to get to!” There was definitely a suggestive wink at the end of that sentence that made Elena roll her eyes as Kate flung a bag over her shoulder and prepared to step out.

“Use protection!” Elena yelled as Kate pulled the door shut behind her. When she turned around, she was met with an adorably confused look.

“She said she had a study date, right?” Elena could barely contain her laughter.

“Sherlock, do you remember how our last study date ended?” She said, letting out a short chuckle. Sherlock couldn’t help but be amused at his own foolishness - something he wasn’t usually able to forgive himself at all. The reminder had another pleasant effect, namely that the memory of that rather memorable date was pulled to the front of his mind and replayed as he followed Elena to the kitchen.

It was a nice apartment; clean and only a tad messy, but that conclusion was drawn mostly based on the abundance of clutter Sherlock himself wouldn’t feel inclined to keep around. Some would consider it the pot calling the kettle black, as practically anyone would readily accuse Sherlock of allowing his own room to fall into disarray, though he saw a perfectly logical system in whatever August or Geralt every now and again called ‘chaos’. He lost himself in thought as Elena gathered ingredients for dinner from the fridge and cabinets, only to be yanked away from them violently when a jar of olives fell to the kitchen counter.

“I’m sorry, it slipped,” Elena said as she checked whether the jar had survived the fall - it had.

“Are you alright?” Sherlock asked as he watched her hand tremble when she took a knife from the drawer and placed it on a cutting board.

“Perfectly,” she said, smiling kindly. It wasn’t a lie; she was feeling alright, it was just that four hours of rehearsal had left her hands rather sore - mostly her left.

“Elena, let me,” Sherlock said. One would be right to assume that Sherlock was facing the same issues - namely that his left hand was particularly worn out from a very lengthy practice, and Elena was of course quick to point this out.

“You are right, darling,” Sherlock said without much thought, “but my left hand isn’t my dominant one.” She knew he was right, and that her hand was indeed far too tired to safely handle anything sharp right now. Sherlock took the knife and started dicing tomatoes, Elena was too distraught to protest his actions.

They cooked dinner together and used their time eating to talk about the past day - even though they spent the entirety of it together.

“It was a shame they moved the rehearsal up,” Elena said in between bites. Dress rehearsal should have been from seven to ten at night, but the conductor had decided at the last minute that it should be moved to the afternoon - and twice as long. That meant Elena and Sherlock had been forced to move their museum date to the morning, which was unfortunate, but inevitable if they wanted to go at all.

“I still had a great time,” Sherlock said as he let go of his glass of wine to put his hand over Elena’s. She smiled at him. She’d had a great time, too, and she was very glad the day wasn’t over yet.

“Is the wine okay?” It was absolutely nothing special, just the house’s favorite: the cheapest supermarket wine she and her housemates didn’t find absolutely disgusting.

“It’s decent,” Sherlock said as he laughed. It wasn’t a lie, per se, the wine was just that: decent, but it certainly deserved no higher praise than that.

When the dishes were done, Elena looked at Sherlock as she stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around him. He answered her hug greedily, as though he hadn’t felt her touch in weeks.

“Movie?” Elena asked as she looked at him. She didn’t wait for an answer before she took his hand and pulled him towards the door. He followed her to her room with no objections - and why should he object? He had a fairly good idea of what was going to happen, and he would in no way be able to present any kind of argument against it, logical or otherwise.

“So, this is me,” she said shyly as she gestured around the room. Sherlock took note of her locking the door - it was strange to him; he never felt the need to lock their doors at his place, people usually had the common decency to knock. And if they didn’t… Well he wasn’t quite sure there was an official protocol in place, but individual instances had involved a lot of yelling, cursing and throwing things at people’s heads.

“I can tell,” Sherlock replied to her question - and he meant it. She looked at him quizzically, which made him chuckle. “In a good way. It’s very… you.” He meant that, too, although it probably was a rather awkward way to phrase it. The room was tidy, clean and bright. Her bed was hidden from sight by an open shelving unit that held mostly plants and books. Elena laughed as she dragged Sherlock around it, to the bottom edge of the bed. To her surprise, he was the first to sit down. It was a bit awkward to crawl up to the top of the bed and get comfortable, but she valued the privacy the shelves provided too much to put it anywhere else. It surely didn’t help that she was wearing a skirt. The pair settled on a movie both had already seen, but didn’t mind watching again - or not watching.

“Why the movie,” Sherlock mumbled against the skin of Elena’s neck after a few minutes, “I mean, at this point it’s obvious we will largely ignore it, so why the pretense?”

“It’s good background noise,” Elena answered. Sherlock being this clear about his intentions for the evening sent shivers down her spine, and she reveled in the excitement and anticipation at finally getting to finish what they started the other night. “Besides, I’m a woman. If I’m too eager about hooking up with a man, people may think I’m…” Her voice trailed off, not because she wasn’t sure how to finish it, but rather because she resented the fact that she had to explain this in the first place.

“I never really understood why that was a bad thing to begin with,” Sherlock spoke slowly, “I, for one, am glad you’re more experienced than I am. Although it sometimes intimidates me a bit.” Elena turned her head in surprise upon hearing his words. She had never imagined he would be intimidated by her past, especially since - despite the limited practice they had had together - Sherlock outranked her previous partners by a landslide. Perhaps the rose colored glasses of amorous infatuation were to blame, or perhaps it was the ease and comfort with which they had been getting to know each other, or even the excitement she felt over being the first with whom he got to experience all these new things, but one thing was certain; she looked forward to and thoroughly enjoyed every minute they spent together.

“There’s nothing to be intimidated by,” Elena whispered softly as she turned around in his arms, “you’re by far the best kisser I’ve come across.”

“Am I now?” He was clearly amused at your confession. “Because I feel I could use some more practice…”

Naturally, he didn’t have to ask her twice. Their lips touched, the taste of wine still faintly present on them, becoming more pronounced when Elena parted her lips and allowed his tongue to slip past them. Sherlock surprised her when he pulled her on top of him. She chuckled softly as his hands slipped underneath the fabric of her sweater, in no hurry to take it off per se, but clearly desperate to feel her skin. A devious idea took hold of her and she sat up on her knees, still straddling him, grabbing his hands and pulling them off her.

“Shall I take this off?” Elena said, locking eyes with Sherlock, warning him to keep his hands to himself without speaking a single word. She didn’t wait for him to answer her. Instead, she toyed with the hem of her sweater, pulling it up at an agonizingly slow pace. Sherlock’s tongue darted out unconsciously to wet his lips as he allowed his eyes to wander over the area of exposed skin that grew so devastatingly slowly.

His hands rested on her thighs, long fingers fiddling with the hem of her skirt in a manner that resembled impatience, but wasn’t quite that. It was mostly excitement that had taken hold of him, the evidence of which she could no doubt feel beneath her. A playful roll of her hips confirmed his suspicions, and the grunt it elicited made Elena chuckle. She took her time taking her sweater off, starting the whole process over again when Sherlock raised his hands to touch her. He showed her he had enough of her antics when she finally pulled the sweater over her head.

“Take the skirt off, too, while you’re at it,” he growled. The words pleasantly surprised Elena, and she was more than happy to oblige. Once she had discarded her skirt, Sherlock shot up, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his mouth to the skin between her breasts with a sigh, spinning her around so she landed with her back on the mattress, drawing a high-pitched squeal from Elena. She moaned when he pulled away, sitting up on his knees between her legs. He was intimidating like this; towering over her, his silhouette clearly defined by his broad shoulders.

She bit her lip as she looked up at him, and moaned softly as he ran his hands lazily up and down her thighs. They were still covered by the tights she was wearing, but Sherlock was quick to help Elena as she peeled those off, too. It was a bit uncomfortable, being subjected to his gaze knowing that nothing ever escaped it, fearing her every one of her flaws was now on display for him to behold, but at the same time the look in his eyes told her everything she needed to push those feelings aside; this man was absolutely smitten. He would find no flaws no matter how much time she awarded him to think it over.

The lingerie she was wearing was revealing - more so than Sherlock had expected - and it cost him great effort to tear his eyes away from it. He only managed to do so when he felt her hands cover his, pulling at them, no doubt in an attempt to bring him close to her, but he held off. Elena clearly disagreed with his reluctance to close the distance between their bodies, and sat up, scrambling to get up on her knees. She pulled his face to hers for another kiss, softly sucking on his bottom lip, and took advantage of their position to get Sherlock closer to her current state of undress. As always, Elena delighted in the feeling of his skin on hers - so much so that she was almost unaware of the hands that found their way to her back, where they undid the clasp of her bra, this time without any problems whatsoever.

“How?” Elena asked, eyes wide with surprise. The advantage her experience gave her over him seemed to shrink every day.

“Danielle gave me a rather helpful explanation when I asked after walking in on a conversation between her and Mike,” Sherlock said plainly, “well, conversation… She was poking fun at him for not being able to do it, either.” Elena laughed, which turned into a squeal as Sherlock let himself fall forward onto the mattress, dragging her along with him. He spun them around so that she fell half on top of him.

“Now where were we?” Her mouth crashed onto his before he had good and well finished his sentence, her hands eagerly undoing his trousers. There couldn’t have been clearer signs of impatience, though Sherlock couldn’t quite figure out what the hurry was. Nevertheless, he yielded to her touch, and soon he found himself only slightly less naked than the last time they had been together.

Elena laid her forehead against his while she gently stroked his chest, running her fingers tenderly through the coarse hair on it, luring a satisfied moan from Sherlock’s parted lips. His hand crept up to her neck as he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and slow, but something pressing crawled underneath the surface of it, which made it even more surprising that he broke the kiss. He barely lifted his lips off hers; only just far enough to be able to speak clearly.

“I was afraid this would get boring,” he whispered softly, his lips brushing against hers as he did, “but I can’t seem to get enough of you.” Elena first bit her own lip when she heard his words, but soon pulled Sherlock’s in between her teeth, instead. His words set alight in her something she had purposely and quite skillfully kept under control, but all that effort was wasted now; her body was begging for him so loudly she could no longer govern or ignore it.

Elena kissed him with the raw passion she had been hiding from him, finally allowing it to take over completely, trusting he would stop her if she threatened to cross a line - hoping he wouldn’t have to stop her at all. Sherlock noticed the change all too well, and - much to his own surprise, as well as Elena’s - he leaned into it, instead of shying away from it like he had expected he would. His fingers trailed from the side of her face, down her neck, slowing down as they moved further down to her breast. The other hand slid down to rest at the small of her back, fingers tentatively playing with the waistband of her underwear.

She moaned into his mouth when he gently pinched her nipple, only getting louder - much louder - when he carefully rolled the sensitive bud between his fingers. Her hips rocked into him - unconsciously at first, but as she discovered that it provided her aching core with the friction it so desperately begged for, she found herself grinding her hips into his thigh purposely. Sherlock carefully observed her movements and the sounds of pleasure that spilled from her with an interest bordering on obscene fascination, or so he would describe it. Soft, wet kisses along her jawline, the sharp contrast of teeth softly biting her earlobe, the same repeated down her neck - it all added to her bliss. Moans and gasps sprang freely from her mouth now that it was no longer obscured by his, and Sherlock was able to gauge her arousal just about perfectly from them.

The hand he held on her back slipped beneath the fabric of her underwear, fingers digging into the flesh of her ass, kneading it. He guided the rhythm of her hips on his thigh, his other hand joining the first, while his mouth took hold of her breast. Elena cried out in frustration at the overwhelming combination of sensations. The way his tongue worked the sensitive skin of her nipple was almost enough to send her over the edge, and her hands twisted into his hair to pull him closer. A soft graze of his teeth was her undoing. She screamed his name as she came, and rode out her climax on his leg. Sherlock’s response - which Elena had to admit she found quite adorable - was to laugh softly in disbelief at what had happened.

What he felt was not a sense of pride - as far as he was concerned, he wasn’t entitled to it, as he had done nothing to help her - but rather a surge of affection, and a thorough appreciation of the intimacy of the moment. He was not awarded much time to consider matters, as his face was pulled up and Elena’s lips found his, capturing them in a passionate kiss that was the nail in the coffin for Sherlock’s self-restraint. He turned them around again, leaving Elena once again in awe; she simply couldn’t believe how strong he really was - or perhaps she kept forgetting on purpose, just so her body would keep reacting the way it did every time she was reminded of it.

“I want to see you.” Sherlock’s voice was hoarse and his breaths were heavy as he hooked his fingers around the waistband of her panties. The look in his eyes begged for permission, which she gladly gave him, and within a few short moments, she was completely naked in front of him. Her experience allowed her the confidence to spread her legs, a teasing smile lingering on her lips. A part of her hoped that he would become ever so slightly flustered at the sight of her, exposed in front of him like that, but he didn’t. The way he bit his lip as he took in her naked form sent shivers down her spine. He lunged forward, crouching over her to press another kiss to her lips, his thighs against hers, pushing her legs further apart. Much to her surprise, his mouth left hers to explore once again the skin of her neck, and then her chest, but he didn’t stop there… His trail of kisses continued until from slightly below her navel, pleading eyes looked up to her, and the only thing she could respond with was a hand on his head that provided slight pressure to encourage him to keep going.

He continued pressing kisses on her skin, traveling all the way to her leg. His soft lips, sharp teeth and warm tongue took turns on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, as two cautious fingers hesitantly explored her. Once again he used the moans she let out as his guide, taking note of her reactions as he went along; the sharp gasp when he carefully pushed a finger into her wet core - or the even sharper one when he later added a second, the moans that followed his soft nibbles on her leg, the way her muscles twitched when his thumb brushed past her clit. Sherlock considered for a moment how fortunate he was that she was loud, because it was hard for him to concentrate. The general novelty of the experience had every nerve in his body once again feeling like a live wire, and the accumulation of sensations diminished his usual mental capacity. It was better to have clear instructions at such times - and by God did she deliver on that front. The least subtle hint came when she weaved her fingers into his hair and gently nudged him closer. Whether he intended to tease her by holding off for a bit, or he waited in hesitation or due to nervousness, he didn’t know, but her voice cut clearly through the fog in his brain when she begged him to progress.

“Sherlock, please.” It was a simple request, and her voice was dripping with lust, which made it entirely irresistible to him, and so he obliged.

It didn’t immediately seem as though he did it gladly: his free hand trembled slightly as he wrapped it around her leg and let it rest on her stomach. Elena squeezed it encouragingly, biting her lip and using her eyes to beg him to continue. Slowly and hesitantly, he dragged his tongue through her folds. Her reaction overwhelmed him, and soon he succumbed to his feelings. Overcome with lust, he wrapped both of his arms around her thighs and pulled her closer. The unexpected action made her gasp, and her fingers once again found their way into his hair as his tongue settled at her clit and began to work the little pearl with the same diligence and dedication he used for everything he even remotely cared about, still using her moans to guide him. Her hips rolled against him gently, though his stern grasp on her legs limited her movement quite a bit, and he tried his best to settle into the rhythm of her movements.

“Oh, God, right there.” Sherlock immediately took the advice to heart, not straying from that particular spot again, relishing the needy cries Elena let out as he gently licked and sucked the sensitive bundle of nerves, making her squirm and whine more and louder with every passing second. When she began muttering expletives under her breath, he chuckled lowly, the vibrations of his voice seemingly worsening her situation even further. Her cursing eventually became pleas for him to continue, and Sherlock slowly felt her muscles tense beneath his fingers.

“Don’t stop, I’m so close,” she begged, and he happily obliged. Elena’s words certainly hadn’t been a lie; it was only seconds later that she came undone on his tongue. Sherlock chuckled at the feeling of her clenching muscles beneath his fingertips, the contorted expression of pure bliss on her face - and the fact that she screamed his name certainly didn’t hurt one bit. After the last surge of ecstasy ebbed away, she had to beg him to stop. He heeded her request, though not gladly; on his face lay an expression of sadness for only a short moment before his lips morphed languidly into a smile.

“That was amazing,” she gasped when he came back up and laid down next to her. She gratefully accepted the invitation of his extended arm and nestled into his side. They both shivered; the room was quite chilly without clothes or the literal ‘heat of the moment’ to keep them both warm, so they opted to wrap themselves in the covers and the other’s arms. Elena kissed Sherlock softly. “I’m impressed.”

“Are you, now?” Oh, how she longed to wipe that smug grin off his stupid and devilishly handsome face. To her surprise, it disappeared on its own, quickly replaced by a more modest and - dare she say - insecure expression. “It wasn’t bad for a first time, you mean?”

“It wasn’t bad in general, Sherlock,” she chuckled softly, “but for a first time, it was absolutely fantastic.” His cheeks gradually colored a deeper red as he looked away and bit his lip. It looked as though he might say something, but words seemed to elude him, so he just shrugged, instead.

“I’m serious,” she said in between soft kisses pressed to his clavicle, “not many men can even find the right spot on the first try, let alone make a woman scream like that.”

He looked at her in shock, and it was her first instinct to think it was because of the plain language she used, but when he spoke, she found it was something else entirely.

“Well, they might consider opening a biology book every now and again,” Sherlock said with a slightly sour edge to his voice, “or getting their eyesight checked.” Elena laughed. She found the moments where Sherlock’s ego shone through - though his remarks were always genuine and his confidence was always deserved enough to not come across as boastful - utterly delightful. He was, for all intents and purposes, as stubborn as a mule, and absolutely refused to attempt things if he wasn’t completely sure he could handle them, which inevitably led to an abundance of successful first tries - and a thorough lack of unsuccessful ones. His arrogance was usually inadvertent, and hardly ever of the ‘look at me’ variety, but rather often still - albeit unintentionally - a dig at others’ expense - and often a very deserved one, at that. With a wide smile adorning her face, she shook her head slightly. Sherlock laid his forehead against hers, a hint of mischief clear in his gaze.

“What?” His tone was innocent, his eyes were everything but. “It’s literally right -” His fingers wormed their way between her legs. “there.” Elena’s mouth fell open when he gently pressed down on her clit. “Exactly where they tell you it’s going to be.” He dragged his fingers around it in slow circles, leaving her gasping for air, clutching at his wrist. “Come here.” The kiss was fantastic. Raw and deep, and drenched with the taste of her juices - Elena felt like she was about to faint. He held her tight to his chest while he skillfully coaxed another orgasm from her with his fingers, and she was left in complete and utter awe at his unexpected proficiency.

“Sherlock!” She squealed, pulling his hand away when she finished. “You have to stop, I can’t take any more right now, please.” She murmured the words against his neck, her chest heaving to the rhythm of her heavy breaths. His head disappeared into the crook of her neck, softly kissing her again, and she sighed. It was a sound of elation, one that echoed through his head and caused goosebumps to erupt all over his skin. For a few moments, he held her, thinking about all that had happened, and as he did so, he felt his eyes drift closed.

“I could fall asleep like this,” he murmured softly as he gently stroked the skin of her back. She hummed, deeply content with the prospect of sleeping next to him.

“Well, I won’t stop you,” she said, sounding equally as fatigued as he did - perhaps even more so.

“I have to go home,” his voice was hoarse when he said it, and when she looked into his eyes, there was a deep sadness in them that all but broke her heart.

“Why?” She was fairly sure that the sorrow in his gaze was mirrored in her own.

“I may not get nervous before performances,” he explained, “but I do have a ritual…” Naturally, she understood immediately that this was very likely to be one of those things Sherlock was very particular about. She was reluctant to let him go, not ready to say goodbye to him and the warmth and intimacy they shared.

“What about tomorrow,” she asked suddenly, “tomorrow night, I mean. Will you stay over after the concert?” He considered her offer for a moment, leaving Elena in horrible suspense until he finally gave her an answer.

“I will gladly spend the night with you, Elena, but I have one favor to ask of you,” his voice was hesitant, and he bit his lip nervously.

“Well, what is it?” She lifted a hand to his cheek and caressed it softly. She chuckled at the contrast between the way his jaw felt now versus when he had picked her up this morning.

“Would it be okay to stay at my house, instead?” His inquiry seemed to make him feel uncomfortable, and Elena reassured him he had absolutely no reason to feel ashamed about what he was asking.

“Would that make you feel more comfortable?” He responded with a nod. Sherlock was sure the familiar environment would help to settle his nerves about the matter. Of course he was overjoyed he would get to spend a whole night with her, but if he was going to face the scorn of anyone’s roommates the next morning, he’d honestly rather they be his own. He studied her face for signs of ridicule, though the bigger part of him was sure he wouldn’t find any. After all, he wouldn’t be here with her if she were the kind of person to mock him for his quirks and unusual behaviors, but he was reminded ever so cruelly by the tiniest bit of insecurity that had etched itself into his brain, that he could never be completely sure of what was on her mind or in hear heart.

“It would.” He couldn’t bear to look at her as he said the words.

“Your place it is, then.” Shortly after their conversation, he got dressed and left. Elena was left behind slightly dazed, and it took her a minute to gather her thoughts and really think about the events of the evening - most of which she did back in her bed with her hand placed firmly where she missed Sherlock’s so dearly. After a few rounds of careful consideration, she got up again. From a box on the shelves over her headboard, she grabbed another box and threw it into her bag. Just in case.

-> Part 16

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dandelion-delusion · 1 year

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TWD Carl x reader

In the forest, the air was warm and dewy as I ran for my life; and the scenery was slightly too bright and cold for my stiff body at the moment. Water made its way into my worn out shoes from the many puddles that littered the ground.

I used to dream of this moment like it would be the "happiest ever after," but now that it's happening, I would rather be sitting in the dark cell imagining it all.

-Carl's p.o.v-

My father and I walked through the dense woods scavenging for un-raided buildings or bunnies. The prison was starting off well but had limited food—plus, Mom had eaten much of our rations during her pregnancy, not to mention baby food. Glenn and Maggie are also on a run at the moment, looking for baby supplies, while Dad and I are looking for food and weapons.

The soft crunching of our footsteps were silenced by someone else's. They were running. Fast. Dad and I shared a glance and raised our guns in the noise's direction. The sound of crunching leaves became deafening, probably because it's the only thing I could focus on.

Through the closely packed trees emerged a girl with a sweaty, dirty face and a small satchel across her torso. She stopped in her tracks and, very quickly, put her hands up. "Please, please don't take me back! I don't have an actual reason for you not to, but... please," her voice was surprisingly steady and as calm as it could be, considering the two guns pointed at her face.

Again, I looked to my dad, but he kept his gaze locked on the girl. "Who would we be taking you back to?" he asked, his gun still pointing at her forehead.

"Is this some sort of sick joke? Is this entertaining to you, because if so why don't you call over all the other deranged guys you hide behind?" Her lower lip had begun quivering and her eyes had pooled with tears as she spoke.

My face and neck trained forward, but my eyes shifted from my father to the girl. Dad shaked his gun arm threateningly. "Who would we be taking you back to?" he repeated, more harsh this time.

"Th-the Living, but please, please don't." By now her voice started to shake and she shut her eyes tight. "I won't cause any problems, I promise, I'll do anything I'm asked to, I won't say another word. I've only just escaped! Stop, will you please stop? I'm scared!"

Her voice rang through my head, and I lowered my gun, Dad following suit. Small twigs snapped under my feet as I walked towards her slowly as if she was as skittish as a deer knowing she was scared and tried to come off without threat.

"Hey, we aren't with The Living. We live at a nearby prison; it's really secure. Would you like to come with us?"

Her eyes finally unscrewed when I lightly placed my hand on her shoulder and got a good look into them, noticing the beautiful colours and depth. Stunning. She stared back at me, gradually relaxing. "Wh-who else is at this prison?" she whispered, still very wary of us.

My remaining parent spoke up from behind us. "We have a large group of forty to fifty people, and enough food to feed all of us, including you"—her staggeringly beautiful eyes left mine to look at Dad before she spoke.

"I would like to go with you to your prison." Her voice was pleasant in my ears, but anxiety was still evident in her tone. However, she still had to earn our trust.

"Before we reveal the location of our prison, we have three, only three, questions for you," I said and composed myself, averting my gaze to the surrounding woods.

"Well...what are the questions?" she asked, looking between me and Dad.

"How many walkers have you killed?" my father asked.

"Was I supposed to be keeping count?" she responds.

"How many people have you killed?" I said, ignoring her question and looking back at her.

"Two." The word was spoken without a hint of regret.

And the most important question, by far: "Why?" I asked, holding eye contact.

"I killed them," she paused, her gaze drifting down to the ground, "so I could get away from the Living."

My Dad spoke, once again pulling my watch from her face. "What have they done to you?" Silence passed through the woods like a title wave. By then we had come to the realization, the world really has no hope left.

Dad and I looked at each other and he nodded. I face the girl in front of me and remain quiet for a moment as she plays with the hem of her shirt, unsure at the leaves in front of her shoe. Appearing to catch her by surprise, I stuck my hand out, smiling gently. "I'm Carl" I announce

Hesitantly, she took it, her palm fitting perfectly in mine, and I noticed the warmth. "Y/n," she said, briefly squeezing my hand before letting go, making it extremely hard not to blush.

The three of us made our way through a neighborhood to grab her some clothes before continuing to the prison. Halfway through, we started up a conversation, instantly getting along. She is the most adorable person to walk the earth nowadays, the way she messes with the hems on her clothes when nervous, or how she doesn't notice the cracks in the road and nearly face plants every time we pass one—and it's not like she tries to be, she just is...

I might have a slight crush on a cute girl named Y/n.

#carl grimes #twd fanfiction #twd #twd x reader #twd x teen!reader #twd x you #carl x reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x you #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x y/n

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theycallmebecca · 2 years

Text

Drabble: Birthday Fantasy

Hope you are all well this Sunday (or Monday depending on where you are located). Today I have an implied foursome for you.. implied because I don't have the energy to get smutty with it right now. Especially with multiple partners, which is the Kinktober Bingo square I used for this drabble for @the-horniest-book-club

I've always wanted to write something with Steve, Sam and Bucky in a foursome... but that's a lot of body parts to keep track of and well... sometimes it's better left the imagination. 😉

Thanks to @nomadicpixel for the added encouragement.

Title: Birthday Fantasy

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader, Sam Wilson x female reader, Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: suggestive

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Usage Disclaimer: This work is for fans only. This author does not give permission for it to be shared, spoken of, referred to in any public manner (podcast, tv, online, etc.) that wants to either make a celebrity uncomfortable, mock fan fiction/fandom in any way, or the author themselves. Requests can be made, but it is unlikely the author will change their mind. If no response is given to a request then the answer is a solid no, not interested and the work cannot be shared, spoken of or even referred to, regardless of the manner or context.

"We want you to come back to our room with us."

You looked up at Steve who looked deadly in his well-tailored suit then let your eyes drift to either side of him, where his best friends Bucky and Sam stood in similar outfits.

"Me?" you questioned in disbelief.

New to the city, you'd gone out to spend your birthday at a club, not wanting to spend it alone. Somehow, and you still weren't sure how exactly, you'd been invited up to the VIP section. That's where you'd met Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson, three ex-military millionaires who had invited you to their table.

The four of you had spent the last two hours talking and getting to know each other. There had been a little bit of flirting and teasing, but none of them had ever made you feel uncomfortable. And your gut said they were good guys.

"Let us make your birthday one to truly remember," Sam said, a smile spreading across his face.

You chewed on your lower lip as you looked at each man again. You'd never been with more than one man before, but it had been a fantasy of yours for a long time. A fantasy that you had never imagined ever being fulfilled.

"We'll take care of you," Bucky said as he held out his hand to you.

You looked at them each one more time before you grabbed your handbag and then took Bucky's hand, allowing him to help you from your seat.

For safety reasons, the four of you took three separate cars to the hotel, Steve and Sam in their own cars and you with Bucky.

"Do you guys do this often?" you asked Bucky.

"No, we've never shared a woman before," Bucky admitted as he held your hand on his thigh. "I know that sounds like a line. But I swear it isn't."

"Why me then?" you asked him.

Bucky was quiet for a minute or so before he finally answered, "We all knew the second you walked into the club. That has never happened before. We all have very different tastes in women. You're the first one who has ever attracted us all."

"I'm nothing -" you started to say, but Bucky's finger to your lips silenced you.

"You are special," he said in a soft, but firm tone. "And tonight is about celebrating you. We'll only do what you want to do and nothing more."

"What if I just wanted to lay on the bed with the three of you?" you teased. "Fully clothed."

"Then we'd lay on the bed fully clothed," Bucky replied with a shrug. "You're in control. Don't forget that."

You and Bucky were the first to arrive at the hotel and he took you up to the penthouse suite that overlooked the city below. He humored you by giving you a tour of the ridiculously large accommodations that the three had booked for their trip.

"If you're all millionaires, why are you sharing one suite?" you asked him.

"It's cheaper this way," Bucky replied. "Plus it means we can get drunk playing poker and don't have to leave the suite to go to our rooms."

"I imagine it's less lonely that way too," you observed.

Bucky gave you a warm smile and said, "I'm sure by your next birthday you'll have some new friends in the city to have a party with."

You crossed your fingers and smiled before asking, "Where are Steve and Sam?"

"They'll be here soon," Bucky replied. "They had to run a couple errands."

The "errands" it turned out were to pick up a cake and some presents, all of which turned out to be from an upscale sex shop.

"You're in control." Bucky's words replayed in your head as you watched the three men enjoy the cake, especially Sam as he cleaned his fork with his tongue, not leaving a single speck of frosting on it.

Pushing back your chair, you stood up, causing all three men to look up at you. You looked at each of them in turn and then you turned around, letting them watch from behind as you pulled the zipping down on your dress.

No one spoke as you slipped your arms from the sleeves and the dress fluttered to the ground.

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katsubiatch · 2 years

Text

Distant Shores-6

Chapter Warnings: Nothing much, jealous Bakugou, a touch suggestive at the end. This is really just a filler chapter honestly. Getting a few things out of the way.

A/N: Hello all! Yes I'm sorry it took me so so long to get this out. I was going through a lot with family things and my own mental health and it took me a bit to come back and finish this up! I've been writing bits and pieces as they come. Hope you enjoy. (:

Bakugous words rang in your ears as you prepared for the celebration that was to happen tonight. The one to celebrate his friends arrival. You knew it was important, something that had to be done, but you were dreading it. Just another night of Bakugou getting drunk, flirting with some woman and going home with her while you sat and hoped for something.

Though as you braided back your hair, something that thankfully one of the thralls here had taught you, you were surprised by Bakugou waltzing into your shared bedroom. Despite what you'd been through with your husband you couldn't deny that he was handsome. Bare chest almost always on display, defined muscles stood out on his chest and arms without him even trying. Long, blond hair pulled back into a braid to signify his wins in battles. That voice that could send a thrill through you. His large hands that you wanted wrapped around your...

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” You heard that raspy voice ask you, pulling you out of your thoughts that were quickly moving towards being inappropriate. You felt your face flush as you turned so your back was to him, and continued to braid your hair. “No reason, I wasn’t looking at you any type of way.” You murmured, finishing up the braid. It wasn’t as perfect or as intricate as the ones that were usually done for you but you were satisfied.

“Mmm.” Was the only response you received, you could feel his eyes on your back. It was almost as if he was trying to figure out what he had come in here to begin with. “They suit you... the braids.” He murmured, hand moving to tug on the end of the braid. Your face flushed a deeper shade of pink as you felt this and heard the compliment.

You turned towards him, seeing his own face was a very light shade of pink as he cleared his throat and offered his arm. “It’s about time that we head out there.” Right... to the feast, where everyone would be watching you. Judging you. You stood up, taking his arm and taking a deep breath as you readied yourself for it all. “It will be alright, a bit more crowded but it will be okay.” You hoped he was right.

It was strange, having all of your husbands attention on you, during a dinner like this it was generally the opposite. He'd sit next to you at the table, but beyond that he didn't pay one scrap of attention to you. Tonight however, you found yourself sandwiched between your husband and the other earl, Izuku. Things were just a bit tight now that the second earl had joined all of you. This fact either irritated your husband, the fact that another man was so close to you, or he was taking his vow of keep you safer very seriously as he kept a large, warm hand on your knee underneath of the table. You spared glances every so often over to him, taking note of his scowl and overall irritated expressions while Izuku spoke to you. You couldn't help but be enthralled by Izuku’s tales. They were thrilling, adventures that you couldn't even imagine.

Your entire life had been spent in a castle, let out on the grounds every once in a while, sometimes going out to the village nearby but not often were you let out of your gilded cage. When you were let out it was heavily guarded, and not for long. So no adventures to be had. These were some of the most interesting stories that you’d heard, and you couldn’t help but be enthralled at everything Izuku was telling you, it was certainly the most interesting dinner conversation you’d had since coming here.

Bakugou POV

Why was she so interested in what that nerd had to say? It wasn't anything he wouldn't have been able to tell her... except he hadn't. He hadn't told her anything, other than the occasional few words spoken between them Bakugou hadn't told her anything. About himself, his life, his people. He wasn't quite sure what he'd expected of her, he supposed the stories were interesting enough but that didn't mean he wasn't jealous. He didn't think he had a right to feel jealous, he'd left her in the dark for so long. Uncared for, unprotected but he was going to change that. He was working hard on changing it.

Never had he been so jealous of anyone or anything. Something that had your attention, something he desperately wanted at this point. Something he wanted to beg for; but Katsuki Bakugou didn't beg. He also hadn't ever been jealous like this, or ever. So he supposed there was a first for everything. He was also jealous of the fact that you'd been disappearing with that bastard Todoroki. He was too wrapped up in trying to drown out Izuku, of trying to keep his thoughts in check that he hadn't even realized his hand on your thigh tightened. That is until your hand gently touched his arm under the table and he noticed your concerned expression as you looked at him.

"Are you alright?" Your quiet voice came out, almost as if you were scared of upsetting him further and he hated that. Hated himself for making you feel that way. That even asking a simple question would irritate him.

"Fine." He grumbled out as he looked at her, eyes softer than usual but hardening right back as soon as he looked over at Izuku. You didn't believe him for one second, even if you hadn't had many conversations with the man you had a feeling he was lying. "Alright." Was your only reply, the hand closest to his moving down, gently wrapping around his fingers.

Well at least he had this much of your attention. If he could have a sliver of your attention that was all he needed. Plus having your hand on his made it all the better. Everything was fine, he could live with this. That is until that bastard Todoroki came up, ruining everything. The quiet little calm that the two of you had created. He was talking to you, asking you about meeting up the next day. About your... lessons. He wasn’t sure what it was but it was boiling his blood and he didn’t even care about keeping up appearances at this point he took the hand he was holding and hauled you up from the chair. “We’re going back to the room.” He grumbled as the two of you went back, and you could feel an argument brewing. Better than the usual silence you were used to it.

"So what? You go off with that bastard every day to what? I can't imagine he's good at conversation, he hardly talks. So what are you doing with him?" Bakugou was seething, you could almost see the steam rolling off of him but you didn't care. Now you were angry that he'd accuse you of something like that, that he'd insult one of your only friends like that.

"Why do you care? You didn't even want me." You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest and rolling your eyes. This argument was pointless, was it even an argument? You couldn't tell. Back home you wouldn't even be saying these things, would have gotten in trouble. But these past few months had taught you to grow a back bone, a spine.

His hands roughly wrapped around your waist, holding you close, your hands making their way to his chest. You knew he'd been jealous for most of the day, had been able to read it on his face and attitude. This was the first time you'd been this close to each other. "I care because now that I've spent more than five seconds in your presence, now that I am truly seeing you, it pisses me off." He growled out as he looked down at you, hands gripping your waist. "I care because... because you're my wife now and that means something here. It's not just a title. It's not just a word. I care because I wasn't able to protect you when it mattered.. that I didn't notice what I had until it was almost too late." He was angry, pissed off but not at you. At what the life you'd had before was. The life he'd unknowingly almost copied here. He was mad at himself. You were both breathing heavily at this point, face to face. Angry and red faced.

"If you... want to know what we do... he has been teaching me. All kinds of things. Your language, how to use a knife... how to defend myself." You shook your head, not able to use any of the training when it mattered. "He's been kind and hasn't... he hasn't tried anything like that." You shook your head, sighing softly. "He said that a Viking woman should know how to fight."

"I know... I watched the two of you... on occasions." He admitted, fingers tracing small patterns on your hips where his hands rested.

"You.. what?"

"Well when Kirishima told me that you were wandering off with him I was curious. He wouldn't tell me anything else about it, so I followed you two a few times." Bakugou shrugged, enjoying the warmth of your hands on his broad chest. He'd been with plenty women but this felt... different. Better. More intimate. "I may not have enjoyed the fact that we had to get married but I still... wanted to make sure you were safe."

"So you knew? You knew what we were doing and you still asked me that?" You asked, pushing against his chest, either attempting to get away or just to push him you weren't sure.

"We'll.... I wasn't there all the time and I don't know truly, what the two of you did the entire time. I am a busy man you know." Bakugou murmured, holding on tight so you didn't move away from him. He didn't want to lose this, the warm weight of you between his arms. "Didn't want him to take advantage of you." He grumbled lowly, but he looked the softest you'd ever seen him. The scowls and frowns long gone as he looked at you like... like you were something special. “I just get so angry and can’t stand it.” He huffed as you gave him a curious look.

“I might not have shown it but... I care about you. In a way. No I didn’t want you, didn’t want this marriage but.. it wore on me. Sleeping next to you, watching how peaceful you look while you sleep, seeing you doing everything you can to be part of the life here. I have to admit that I thought that you were reporting back to your father and.. I didn’t want to get attached to you if I was going to have to end up killing you.” “Mmm romantic.” You murmured, rolling your eyes as you looked up at him. “Listen this is as good as it’s going to get.” He grumbled and you just smiled up at him, hands laid against his chest. The two of you took a few moments, just looking at each other. There was a connection there, you just had to work on it. You could make it work, coming from two different worlds. It was a few moments of looking before his lips were on yours, rough and demanding. You hadn’t been expecting if and let out a small gasp at the suddenness of it.

Your hands found their way up his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck, hands gently tugging at his hair and received a grunt in return. The kiss had started out heated but now it was even more so. Lips moving against lips, his tongue dipping into your mouth, moving over your teeth, poking and playing with yours as his hands squeezed at your hips and he backed you towards the bed. A fire inside of you had been lit, and you didn’t know if this was because he wanted to with you or if it was the fact that he didn’t have anyone else to warm his bed but you didn’t care. The thought gone as soon as it came, his lips moving from yours and pressing sloppy kisses along your jaw, nipping on your ear and groaning into it as he laid you down on the bed.

“I think it’s time we reconsummated our marriage.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakagou x you #bakugou x y/n #Distant Shores

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tiredassmage · 11 months

Note

hello the randomizer has picked these 5 questions for Rhystyl 🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem? 💙 BLUE HEART - do they miss their s/o easily? how do they act when their s/o isn't around? ⚾ BASEBALL - can they play sports? what is their best position if they play a team sport? what's their strong suit (speed, power etc.)? 💡 LIGHTBULB - is your oc a planner? do they write down every small detail or just wing it? 👻 GHOST - do they believe in ghosts? what are their "ghostly experiences", if any?

"I'm sure some of these won't be too long" she said, like a complete fool. As if I haven't been dealing with Tyr's bullshit for like a year, why would I expect any of my children to be different? Also I have so much Rhyst lore that lives solely in my head so far, so thank you for finally giving me a bit of a release valve for some of it, lol.

[Emoji OC Asks!]

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

In essence, he has to face a trolley problem equivalent on Belsavis. Of course, Rhyst would have loved to avoid ever having to make such a choice and he’d honestly probably loathe the thing posed solely as a thought experiment because there’s no version of this in which he doesn’t feel some level of guilt and he deals with plenty enough of it as it is without adding ‘theoretical guilt’ onto the pile.

He’s not proud to say Scourge at his shoulder rather consistently reminding him that Krannus was abusing his nature as a Jedi to lay traps and delays in his path got to him, but when the good doctor explains that a reactor failure on Belsavis would decimate the entire system and not only the planet, the weight is finally enough to sway Rhyst’s heavy heart. He’s but one Jedi trying to take on multiple failsafe plots to destroy an entire planet and fuel one of the most evil and powerful entities in the galaxy and training teaches them that attachment to one life over the good of the many is wrong. It’s on that reasoning that he leaves the doctor behind with an apology in the deep prison sector. If Krannus gained any more ground on them and he failed in his mission, well… There’s little use in saying he’d never be able to live with the guilt because none of them would’ve had the opportunity. Instead, he’ll have to live with the doctor’s uncertain fate weighing on top of the damage he did to Republic forces and interests while under the Emperor’s influence.

As an aside, I imagine he tried to pull a favor out of Special Forces and send someone looking for the doctor, but with how widespread the riots and troubles are on Belsavis, Republic forces are already spread thin. Rhyst doesn’t have the heart to protest too heavily when the rebuke comes that it’s unfortunate, but it’s resources the Republic is unlikely to have available to spare. Scourge remains sharp at his shoulder to remind him their fight against the Emperor will not wait. They must make their leave while they can.

💙 BLUE HEART - do they miss their s/o easily? how do they act when their s/o isn't around?

First, to establish some info about his relationships in the first place! Kira and Rhyst finish their training together and get Knighted around the same time; Maltaf shoulders finishing Kira’s training in tandem with Rhyst’s to accommodate Master Kiwiik’s assignment and her eventual recovery from Tatooine. It’s a somewhat unusual arrangement, but the pressures of such large-scale threats have affected the pacing and proctoring of training before and they are all certain it will do so again.

That established, him and Kira do start to experiment together. Kira taps into Rhyst’s lighter side and helps pull his head out of the every-growing weight of their responsibilities. She’s an incredibly important link in his support network. They share the struggle of figuring out who they are as both people and Jedi. He’s not always as certain as her about exactly where their relationship is going, but, in the end, he does know he values her as a friend and the world’s a lighter, somewhat brighter place when she hits him with a smile and a “tough guy” quip.

He tends to be a bit more reserved whenever she’s not at his side, but they’re more than capable of operating independently and Rhyst tries to for a time after everything that transpires on the Fortress and his time under the Emperor’s influence. He pushes her away for a time, struggling to wrangle with a tangled mess of guilt, fear, and renewed doubts about his place in the Order and the kind of responsibilities the Council seemed to almost carelessly entrust to him because he’s not quite sure he’s ready to share that vulnerability and in no way does he want to destabilize her again, either. Eventually, however, she pulls him back, gently tracing the new scar across his cheek from his duel with Master Maltaf to reassure him he’s not alone, that she doesn’t hold him alone responsible for the fall. He believed in her, after all. Now she’s going to return the favor.

Furthermore, I believe they do benefit from time apart when Zakuul invades, even if it is difficult. They both benefit from the space to face their inner uncertainties separately and reaffirm their own identities before they become more seriously involved. Their relationship during the class stories has its tender moments for sure, but they are young lovers and it’s reflected in the nature of their relationship. Rhyst doesn’t turn her away, but given the burdens they weather, he’s not in the right place to give her or ask for something more until they’ve got a bit more growth and experience under their belts.

Still, their returns from time apart on separate missions is usually met in a playful kiss and Kira scooped up into his arms. And usually plenty of light jesting on Kira’s part.

⚾ BASEBALL - can they play sports? what is their best position if they play a team sport? what's their strong suit (speed, power etc.)?

It’s not his favorite hobby, but he wouldn’t mind casually playing with some friends. His favored role would likely be in some sort of support position where he can rally teammates and watch their backs.

While Maltaf was key to teaching him the tactics and philosophies of the Jedi Shadows, Satia was his primary teacher on saber techniques and imparted her coordination and efficiency with a dual-bladed saber upon him. In short, he’s got good footwork and he’s a cooperative sort, which makes playing on a team a far smoother endeavor.

💡 LIGHTBULB - is your oc a planner? do they write down every small detail or just wing it?

Not particularly. While somewhat inquisitive, he’s not a deep-diver when it comes to planning or researching. Maltaf taught him to trust in his feelings, explore them, and ultimately follow his heart. I wouldn’t put him too strongly on either end of the spectrum; he’s not as detail-heavy as Satia, nor is he quite as impulsive as Kira can be. Rhyst likes to know what is expected of him, but he doesn’t want to be so mired in minute details that it’s difficult to finally act.

👻 GHOST - do they believe in ghosts? what are their "ghostly experiences", if any?

While Maltaf became his primary master, Master Orgus Din still played a role in his training and it is partly his influence after his fall that allows Maltaf and Satia the opening they need to free him from the Emperor’s influence. Rhyst’s skill with the Force is fairly moderate, allowing him occasional visions of what may come to pass and aiding his perception during combat, allowing for betting dodging and acrobatic strikes. The concept of the Force and the universe having a greater will is certainly a large one for him to wrangle, but he doesn’t doubt that it certainly seems it does, sometimes. It’d seem a bit ridiculous if he didn’t considering what he owes Orgus and Satia for breaking through the Emperor’s Darkness or even seeing what eventually becomes of Revan with his own eyes.

#answered #swtor ocs #ch: rhystyl #jedi knight

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lfthinkerwrites · 2 years

Note

Penelope Young and E. (Sharing a Drink) for the letter character prompt thingie if u want . also i rlly enjoy your penelope young fics hi sry

Thank you! Fun fact: this is a scene I've been wanting to write for a while, but could never quite fit into the main story. Enjoy!

Sharing a Drink

This was a meeting Edward had feared, but he wasn't here. Penelope took a sip of her mimosa and gave Selina a small smile as the other woman finished her story. "...And that is the tale of our adventure in Rome."

Penelope let out a short laugh. She could just imagine her boyfriend in the other woman's catsuit and shook her head. "Does Ellen know about this?"

Selina let out a laugh. "Eddie told me that I'm forbidden to tell her. She'd never let him live it down. She already teases him too much about his old spandex suits. Just as well. There are some things a girl doesn't need to know about her father." She took a sip out of her drink and her eyes gleamed with mischief. "Don't get me wrong, I was happy as everyone else when Eddie got out of the life, but there are some things I miss about him."

Penelope felt her face flush at the implication. And now the true reason for this meeting had revealed itself. "And just what things would those be?" She asked coolly. She liked Selina, really, but she didn't always like being reminded of just how well she had known Edward.

Selina just smiled, like a cat that had gotten the cream. How appropriate. "For someone as bratty and stubborn as he is, he can be quite...pliant when he's in the right mood."

"I've noticed," Penelope said dryly, enjoying the look of surprise on the other woman's face. "More than once in the last few days." Selina recovered and just let out another laugh.

"You work fast, Doc. Good for you. Well, the folks at Pandora's Box are going to miss him."

"Why?" Penelope asked. She hadn't heard much about this Pandora's Box. Diedre had brought it up at Ellen's birthday back in July, but Edward had quickly hushed her and not brought it up again. "Is it some kind of social club? I don't have any problem with Edward going to it if it is."

Selina looked almost bug-eyed at her for a second. Then she tilted her head back and laughed out loud, causing the people at the table next to them to pause in their conversation and look at her. Penelope just looked at her, confused. Selina stopped laughing and took a large gulp of her bloody Mary, then shook her head. "Oh, Doc, Doc, Doc. It's not a social club."

"Oh?" Penelope frowned. "Oh Lord, it's not a strip club, is it?"

"It's not a strip club either." Selina looked around the cafe, making sure no one was listening in before she leaned across the table and whispered. "It's an S&M club."

Penelope blinked. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly serious," Selina smirked. "Don't let his romantic act fool you. Our Eddie's a kinky little thing."

This felt like something she should speak with Edward about, but Penelope found herself polishing off her mimosa and giving Selina a level stare. "My Eddie, you mean. Tell me everything." She wanted to take notes for a later conversation. Multiple conversations.

#pi verse #under the cut for some naughty things mentioned #the missus and the ex #ed's worst nightmare

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everythingcanadian · 7 months

Text

A Dense Wood

Pairing: Thomas Barrow/Guy Dexter

Rating: G

No Warnings

Summary:

Day 5 of promptober: Sanctuary Thomas and Guy take the weekend off. The drive up to the log home is relaxing.

AO3 Portal

All Parts On AO3 or On Tumblr Part2 Part3 Part4 Part5

Guy drove them out of the city. Heading towards the forests of California where Oaks, Pines, Firs, and Cedars towered over everything in their sight. Thomas felt small. Insignificant. But for some reason he also felt at home among the greenery laden stretch of highway.

They were heading to a cabin home, built among the trees and bushes, and Guy had rented it for the weekend. Friday morning came bright and early for them as they had packed the car and were on their way before nine in the morning.

A thrill raced down Thomas’s back when Guy had given him the information of where, how long, and what to expect. He made sure neither of them had anything on their schedules for the three days they’d be gone.

They had packed a few canned foods and some cured meats and bread and other foods they’d need. Thomas even packed oatmeal and brown sugar for their breakfasts. They brought umbrellas and overcoats should it rain. Extra fuel in the boot of the car should they need it. But, other than the usual things, they didn’t need much else.

Thomas wanted to smell the deep and earthy scent he missed of England. It wouldn't be the exact same but it would ease a bit of the ache for a past home. He cranked the window down of the Pierce-Arrow Guy had bought almost a year ago now. And Thomas was right, the air was cool and fresh. His lungs welcomed it.

Guy laughed softly and chanced a look over at his husband. The October gloom suited Thomas. Made the paleness of his skin almost spirited among the greys and greens and browns passing them by. The low cloud and mist cover in the tree canopy made this journey feel right. Good weather for cozying up together by a log fire and enjoying their shared company. Nothing to worry about for three whole days.

Thomas rolled the window back up slowly as they finally turned onto the long driveway up to the log house. He expected a small cabin or cottage type home; not the two story luxury that stood in front of them as they drove up and swung a wide turn on the large dirt drive.

He closed his mouth and got himself out of the car, eyes trying to take in everything.

“Welcome to The Sanctuary.” Guy purred softly. He was already walking towards the large red painted door with glass windows lining it on either side. The small ring of three keys jangled as Guy retrieved them from his coat pocket.

The forest stayed dense with green cover and a little bit of autumn colouring even though there were fallen leaves littering the drive and yard of the place. Some crunched as he walked over them, others were flattened and soggy from previous rainfall.

Thomas felt at ease. Could feel his body soak up the earth and the cold and the damp. Not like the bitterness of England. No. This was sweeter and a touch warmer. He had Guy with him, unlocking the door with a small bit of force in the turn of the key. The warm richness of the log home hit his nose. Thomas relaxed.

The calmness that surrounded them here felt a little eerie but that was probably due to them being the only two around for miles. Guy smiled softly at Thomas, keeping the door open and heading to the car to get their things inside.

He understood why it was called Sanctuary once he peeked inside.

The main hall was tall. The stairs were wooden and grand on one side of the entryway. And the rug that was a warm orange and brown led the eye to the open doorway at the far wall, it went right into the kitchen. Other open doorways led to the living room, dining room, and library. Thomas couldn’t wait to explore with his husband.

“C’mon darling. Help me get this all inside and we can have a look around. I was told the library held all kinds of books that neither of us could imagine.” Guy’s excitement showed in his step and Thomas couldn’t fault him for it. He too sped in his gait to get them settled.

#dexmas #otp: dexmas #fic #My fic #promptober #promptober 2023 #downton abbey

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sinner-as-saint · 3 years

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Come Home.

Mob!Bucky x Reader AU

Run-through: Bucky comes home to find you and your son asleep in your bed and his heart damn near explodes with how much he loves his family. And after putting your baby to sleep, Bucky proceeds to show you just how grateful he is to have you and how much he loves you...

Themes: fluff, soft smut

WARNING: FLUFF

a/n: just a quick dose of fluff because we all need some, ily!

Bucky checked his phone the moment he slid into the backseat of his car. Without a word said, his driver knew that he would be going home.

Bucky smiled at the text you just sent him, attached to which was a picture of you and your son cuddling on your bed with big smiles on both your faces. The text read: ‘Showered, PJs on and we’re ready for cuddles! Come home quick, we love you!’

Just the thought of returning home to his little family which he adored so much made all his fatigue fade away. He couldn’t imagine life without the two of you in it, he would die and kill for you without hesitation.

Half an hour later he was home. He made sure to have a quick word with his guards outside - as always thanking them for ensuring the safety of his family when he’s not around during the day. He walked inside and locked the door and rushed upstairs, excited to see you and his son, already taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. He walked into your bedroom and he immediately melted at the sight on your bed.

Both you and your son, in matching PJs, fell asleep while waiting on him. You were sprawled carelessly on the soft mattress and your son fell asleep on top of you, holding on to your hip. Bucky let out a soft chuckle as he carefully stepped closer to you two, noticing the bedtime story books amidst the books you were currently reading, as well as the bar of chocolate on the bedside which you and your son probably shared - things your son inherited from you; the love for books and stories, and a sweet tooth.

Bucky leaned over, kissing you both carefully on the forehead. He always found it adorable how both you and your son slept similarly; lips slightly parted, snoring softly. He decided not to disturb you two any further so he slipped into the bathroom as quietly as possible.

Once he stepped out of the shower, he had to force himself to disturb your baby boy slightly because he needed to be put in his own bed so he could sleep more comfortably. But also, Bucky desperately needed some time alone with you.

He placed one knee gently on the bed, bending a little and slipping his hands under the little sleeping frame of your son so as to pick him up as gently as possible. “Come on bud, we gotta put you in your own bed.” He whispered, mainly to himself as he detached the 3-year-old toddler from your hip. “Such a momma’s boy,” Bucky muttered under his breath when he realized that your son was putting up a gentle fight even in his sleep as his father tried to get him off of your leg.

As soon as he felt the loss of contact from your body heat, your son whimpered quietly in his father’s arms, still asleep as he made an attempt to reach out for you again with his little arms. Bucky smiled. “I know, I know.” He shushed your son as best he could, rocking him gently and praying to God he doesn’t wake up.

“I’m just as obsessed with your mom as you are. I hate being away from her too.” He whispered to your son as he slowly walked out of your bedroom and crossed the hallway to get to the little man’s room. “But hey, you hang out with her all day. Now it’s my turn.” He whispered, placing your son down on the smaller, equally as comfy bed.

He positioned the pillows just how he liked it and tucked your baby in bed, kissing his forehead. “Good night little man, daddy loves you.” He turned the soft night light on before leaving the room, closing the door just halfway.

Bucky was almost giddy as he slid into bed behind you. He pulled the covers over both of you before pulling you closer and spooning you from behind. You stirred gently, recognizing his touch instantly as his bare chest pressed against your back. He wrapped his strong arm around you, pulling you into him even more and kissed along your exposed neck.

You woke up giggling as he nibbled on your skin. You kept your eyes closed and just relished his touch. “Hi handsome.” You whispered. Bucky responded with a soft moan, kissing and licking along your throat. You immediately reached out to feel the spot beside you, where you remember your son had fallen asleep earlier. “Where’s-,”

Bucky replied before you even finished your sentence. “Already put him to bed. I found him holding on to your leg like a little koala bear when I came in.”

You let out a chuckle. “God, I love him. I love him so much it hurts.”

Bucky hummed, agreeing before he bit down on your shoulder. “Spare some love for me. I helped make him.” He spoke of his son fondly as always, yet you noticed the ever-present, playful jealousy in his tone.

You giggled, “Oh of course. You’re part of the reason why he’s here. Thank you for that.” You turned in his arms to face your husband. You reached up and caressed his cheek softly. “Thank you.” You whispered again.

Bucky smiled, which quickly morphed into a smirk. “I can think of so many ways in which you can thank me.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours before you could say anything. He felt you smile into the kiss as he deepened it, slipping his tongue into your mouth; licking and earning soft moans out of you.

He wrapped his arms tighter around your warm body as he gently pushed you onto your back and climbed on top of you, not breaking the kiss yet. He hissed in pleasure when you playfully bit his lip, filling his mind with filth. He pulled away gently, looking down at you with his piercing blue eyes. “I’ve missed you all day.”

You noticed the way he discreetly rolled his hips against you, rubbing his erection against your clothed core. Even through the layers of clothing you could feel his hunger; thick, large, hard. You were certain that by now your stare must be just as filled with lust and love as his was.

“Show me how much.” You whispered, lips already parted as you awaited his kiss.

Unable to resist, he leaned down for a brief, deep kiss before pulling away to stare at you again. “Where do you want me, baby?” His voice was deeper, words dripping with desire as his body heat wrapped around you. He was needy, rubbing his erection more and more in between your legs as if pleading you to let him pleasure you.

You groaned, loving his gentle teasing. “I don’t mind, I just want you.”

He chuckled, your words stroking his ego. “I love you.” He mumbled, lowering his mouth to yours again; kissing your lips before moving slowly down your body, his lips kissing down your body as his fingers slowly unbuttoned your top. He stopped and stared at your chest shamelessly once your top was off. He straddled you and reached up to cup both your breasts in his large hands and fondled with them before looking up at you. “Did they get bigger? I feel like they did.”

That earned a loud chuckle out of you. “Perv.” You mumbled while sliding your fingers into his thick, soft hair which he had also passed on to your son.

Bucky smirked before leaning in to kiss down the valley of your cleavage, still toying with your breasts while occasionally rolling and pinching your nipples, making you arch your back off the bed. He pulled away after a while, and kept kissing down your body until he knelt in between your legs.

He gently lowered your shorts down your legs; getting rid of them and kissed your inner thighs once you were completely naked under him. No matter how many times he had seen you naked, your body, your warmth - it always excited him just the same as the first time.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled and brushed his soft lips along your inner thighs, making you giggle and moan quietly under your breath.

You opened your eyes to look down at him with nothing but love, and desire in your stare. There was a time in your life when you questioned whether or not one day someone would be capable of loving you with all their heart, despite your flaws and imperfections. You wondered if you’d ever be one of the lucky ones whose partners looked at them with pure love, devotion and affection. That question was answered now because Bucky always looked at you like you hung the moon itself.

It didn’t have to be said, he knew what you were thinking. He always knew. He placed both his hands on either one of your knees and separated your legs, settling in between them like he belonged there and inched his face closer to your already dripping core.

You could feel his warm breath hit your wet skin as he brought his mouth closer to your wet lips. He held your stare as he peppered kisses around your glistening core. You moaned quietly when you felt his warm tongue lick from your entrance up to your throbbing clit. You felt your heart flutter as a familiar warmth washed over you.

Your hand immediately flew to his slightly damp hair, and you grabbed a fistful of it, tugging on it gently as his mouth teased you. His tongue slowly circled around your clit, earning another moan out of you.

He didn’t hold back, he ate you out eagerly; satiating both your hunger. Bucky looked up at you again at the same time as you looked down, and you saw the pure hunger in his eyes. And he saw the need in yours. So he gave you his all. He had you squirming, moaning - a complete mess under him in no time.

Your eyes rolled back and your legs trembled as you felt his tongue fucking you gently. He locked his arms around your thighs and pushed your core further into his mouth, making you cry out of pleasure. He couldn’t get enough of you; your taste, your warmth, the way you moaned, the fact that he knew no one else would ever make you feel this way ever again. It drove him wild.

With a couple more strokes of his tongue, he had you coming undone; gushing out all over his tongue as he lapped up whatever you gave him; making you gasp and moan. The wet sounds erupting whenever his mouth sucked on your sensitive clit were downright filthy and it only made you want more of him.

You felt him kissing his way up your body; leaving warm, wet kisses all over your skin, until he reached your mouth again. His kiss was gentle. When he pulled away, you finally opened your eyes to stare into his deep blue eyes.

His stare was feral, he was hungry. “I need you.” He was in a bit of a daze as he thought of the last time he had you - yesterday morning - and that felt like ages ago.

You reached up and touched his cheek gently. “I’m all yours, Buck.” You reminded him.

That was enough. You were his, and he loved you more and more each day. And he showed you just that. He leaned in for a kiss again. He kissed your skin; from your mouth to your neck as he lowered his sweatpants and carefully slid into you. Your walls welcomed him perfectly and he moaned under his breath as he filled you up entirely, inch by inch. Your warmth wrapped around him, gripping him and reminding him that he was yours. He would always belong to you because no one else would ever make him feel this way.

You whined in pleasure and your back arched off the bed just as you felt his thick cock filling you up; snug inside you. He felt familiar, yet just as intoxicating each time. He laced your fingers together and pinned both your entwined hands above your head as he sped up into you. You frowned in pleasure and threw your head back as he started rocking in and out of you. He leaned in and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you slowly.

The air around you got warmer again, his movements were gentle, and passionate and loving. His hips rolled against your body perfectly, and his body weight pressing down gently on you was comforting and intimate. His grip around your hand tightened each time you’d mumble his name under your breath.

“You’re all mine.” He whispered against your lips, and leaned in to kiss you deeply while he deliberately stroked his cock against your walls as slowly as he could just to make you whine and whimper even more under him. “Look at me,” he growled quietly under his breath.

You immediately opened your eyes and stared into his. His stare was intense, but loving as always. His lips were full and swollen as he looked down at you like you were as important as the air he breathed. You felt his cock hit all the right spots each time he moved against you, and his lips parted and he groaned the moment your walls started clenching around him.

He moaned at how tight you felt around his throbbing cock, and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Come for me, baby...” He whispered, voice strained and gravelly; which sent chills down your body.

His voice was enough to take you right to the edge. You felt the pressure and the familiar, sweet pain in between your legs; making you gasp for air and your walls clench violently around him. “Come with me…” You moaned, wantonly.

His hands reached down and grabbed your sides gently, keeping you in place as he sped up into you; his cock slipping in and out of you with ease. Your bodies moved perfectly against each other. He held you as close to him as he could, pushing his face into you and nuzzling your neck as he fucked you relentlessly.

With a few more strokes of his cock, you came undone; gushing out all around him. You came around his cock with a loud moan; grinding against him hungrily while he moaned against your lips as he came right after you.

You were both gasping for air; hearts racing and holding onto each other as you came down from your high together. Bucky was careful not to crush you under him and moved to lay beside you for a moment, catching his breath before he pulled you into him again, spooning you from behind like he had earlier.

You pulled the covers back up on top of your warm bodies and you closed your eyes, basking in his warmth.

He leaned over to kiss your cheek again and playfully nipped at your earlobe, you pulled away giggling again.

“I love you, baby.” He murmured into your ear. He would never get tired of saying it because he meant it, with all his heart and he knew that you knew.

“I love you more.” You sighed, thankful for him. “Now,” you spoke as you turned around in his arms, facing him yet again, “Tell me about your day…”

#mob!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fluff

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mochikeiji · 3 years

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Request: "For your event can I have my bby, Inumaki Toge (sorry for being so predictable) and prompts 50 and 6 🥺👉👈"

50. "Oh, sorry. You were so cute I had to kiss you"

6. "No, don't cover your smile"

↠ Pairing: Inumaki Toge x F!Reader

↠ Warning: mini make out session in the end, mostly fluffy soft times, italicized fonts are Inumaki's lines through texts

↬ Word Count: 1.3k

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event

As much as you find the certain white haired but quiet ball of sunshine, there was one thing that sometimes bothered you. It wasn't major— Inumaki was alright as he is now. If not, perfect you would say. The only thing you don't comprehend is that he kept wearing that long sleeved, collar that reached his mouth. Even you find your annoying teacher was wearing the same thing as your boyfriend after yelling hysterically how he's found his long lost twin while poor Inumaki was dragged out of the blue.

You get it's for hiding the tattoos on the corners of his lips. Maybe there was more to it, but Inumaki wrote it on a paper; a way of communicating, that it wasn't at all that sacred or anything to hide. He just grew fond of hiding his mouth for a long period of time. Though he admits it does kind of make him insecure of the times people saw him in person while walking down the streets with a normal attire. All you could ever have in order to read his emotions were his eyes. There were moments you'd catch a peek of his full features during missions. But it hasn't even reached a minute or so he's already hidden himself like a turtle.

Staring longer at him while laying down on bed bored, it dawned to you how you've never caught on what he'd look like if he smiles underneath that suit he wore. This made you tempted to zip down the little zipper in display, but you know better than to pry in his comfort zone. But oh, can you imagine, just a cute kitten like smile. Or even a pout when he's clinging onto your waist during mornings for more over time cuddles. You needed to see that.

"Hey, Toge."

Fingers tugging down the hem of his suit, Inumaki's attention drifts off of his phone from what Yuta was sending and peered at you, "Shake?" he starts, fiddling with your fingers with his. He does this a lot even in public, so intrigued at how much it has an affect to make his insides all giddy and warm from the playful gesture.

"Can I please see you?"

He snorts a little as he types something on his phone. Lucky you, yours happened to be right next to you. The screen lightening, pinging a notification coming from him,

You already are, you dummy.

Inumaki chuckles a bit when he earned himself a pout and a huff from you. Pinching your cheeks gently in a way of saying sorry and waits for you to explain, "I mean, I want to see you. You know," widening your palm a bit, facing it near your own mouth and began waving up and down at him. "Without the thingy in the way."

He messages again,

Thingy? Really? Aren't you cute.

Sitting up from your position, you waddled closer to his body. Inumaki shifts himself to sit comfortably at the edge of the bed for you to settle yourself on his lap. His hands roamed for a good seconds behind your back, occasionally trying to be sneaky once he's reached a bit lower, but settles nonetheless on your hips.

"I wanna see you smile." while playing with the dangling zipper, "I've never really seen you take this off whenever we're together. Don't get me wrong! It's not ugly! I just, you know."

It startled you when he coos quietly. Squinting his eyes and booping your nose softly. If you weren't mistaken, did he just wiggled himself? He resumes to typing once again something quickly and flashes his screen towards you.

You're just precious.

But I'm not gonna do it.

Kind of bummed from what he said. Then again worried you may have been pushing him on, but then you see his index scroll up from his notepad to reveal the other, large bolded text underneath his last reply,

You do it for me.

"Are you sure? I don't mean to sound pushy."

He types again,

You're not. It's nice to hear that someone can't resist my charms.

Gasping dramatically, you slapped his chest with the back of your hand softly. His shoulders jolting from stifled laughter before grabbing your wrist up to the zipper. It was stupid to have your breath held in. What can you say, it was anticipating really. Giving you a firm nod that it was very much okay for him, you slowly zipped down the collar to unravel half of his face. Your smile was wobbly from failing to hide the embarrassment, more now because he kept arching his brows as if he was teasing you.

When it came to a stop at his chest, your hand automatically reaches out for his jaw. Thumb tracing over the swirly marks now that it was up close and woah, do you want to know if he uses some kind of lip balm or lip gloss. They were so pretty! Probably near as the blubbering blindfolded male.

If you could only see yourself so dazed at him, like any other guy, the corners of his lips rose a tiny bit from all the attention he was gaining from you. He could feel his naked soul burn from the sparkles of admiration through your eyes as you stared at him agape, "You're really handsome."

And like any other guy, to be called handsome hasn't occurred in his book until now. Of course, it's a bit more different if someone you love says it, right? Suddenly feeling quite hot underneath your gaze and comment, his fingers threaded through his bangs to push away from his sweaty forehead. Looking away when he feels the blood in his face circulate to paint his cheeks.

No different than he is, you quickly slapped a palm on your mouth, "I-I mean, you're always handsome! It's just, wow." unable to keep your eyes out of his face, so close you could count the lashes on his eyes, "You're wow. Like, wow. You're with me?"

Couldn't you stop already? It's not often he gets someone praising him. It's always Maki and Yuta that gets the spotlight, occasionally Panda if he's down in the dumps. But couldn't you tell by the way he's suddenly the one who's nervous because of you? It felt too good to hear, he had to gulp down the butterflies that were prying his lips into a large grin. Boy, does he want to hide himself as he lowered his hand from holding his bangs up to cup his mouth. Upon witnessing that, you shake your head with a smile,

"No, don't cover your smile." pinning his hand down, planted on his sides as you leaned closer, "I love your smile."

Nothing but pure sincerity came out from you. What choice does he have to deny you when the reason why he can't even contain himself from smiling was because of you? Shyly tapping on his revealed chest random patterns and scanning each part your eyes could reach, he takes advantage of the closeness you two shared just by the lips. Squeaking between the kisses, his arms circles to your middle to pull you in deeper, your hands acting as a support that held onto his shoulders. Unlike the quick pecks that go by in a flash, he savors this one the most knowing he's got nothing to hide from anything or anyone. No one would've guessed he'd kiss as if it was full of raw, hungry emotions.

Even when you pull away to breathe, he still sneaks more littered kisses on your lips until he was satisfied witha goofy smile on his flushed face. Fumbling to grab his phone open for the prepared text he's put in earlier and pushing it between your faces, "Oh, sorry. You were so cute I had to kiss you."

"You planned this from the start didn't you, you jerk." scoffing playfully to mask your own lovey dovey state from floating to the clouds. He shows you another text briefly before throwing his phone out of the way, resuming back to business in a more intimate position feeling himself become in much need.

Take less, more kisses, cutie.

#inumaki to/ge fluff #inumaki to/ge imagines #inumaki to/ge x reader #inumaki to/ge x y/n #inumaki x y/n #inumaki scenarios #inumaki imagines #inumaki x reader #jujutsu kaisen inumaki #jjk inumaki #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #raines: gogatsu event

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russiandoll-from-brooklyn · 3 years

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Just Once - Part 2

Title: Just Once - Part 2

Some of y'all were asking for Part 2 of Just Once so here ya go! This picks up right after the first story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!reader

Summary: Grief and loneliness got the best of you last night. Your friendship with Tony was too precious to risk, and now all you want to do is move on. But what happens when the other party doesn't want to forget?

Warnings: smut, language, (technically) cheating, friends to lovers, mentions of past canon trauma, oral (f receiving), protected sex

Word Count: 5.1k

[Starts out sweet and all about tony x reader friendship, then turns into steamy Tony smut. Table sex, included. 😳]

---

Thump, thump, thump.

Your feet hit the pavement rhythmically as you jog your normal morning route. It’s a misty Seattle morning, and the world is still quiet. The sun is rising sleepily, beginning to bathe the world in gold. All is well.

Except. It isn’t.

You turn the block corner, and your apartment comes into sight. You take a glance down at your watch.

42 minutes.

That’s how long ago you had quietly slipped out of your apartment for your morning run. That’s how long it had been since your eyes shot open and you remembered the events of last night, rushing into your mind, all at once like a tsunami. You had turned your head to find Tony still asleep beside you in the bed. One leg sticking out of the messy sheets and his face buried in the pillow. Your pillow.

You had stared at him in disbelief, half-expecting him to disintegrate into a fleeting figment of your imagination. You had rubbed your eyes, trying to clear the haze.

Nope. Still there.

You silently curse yourself and your stupidity (see: weakness in the face of sexual temptation) for the 50th time this morning as you approach the brick building. Perhaps, when you reenter your apartment, Tony will be gone, and this will all have just been a bad trip — or something of the like.

Before you even open the door, the smell of frying bacon reaches your nose. You step inside and are greeted by a peculiar sight.

Tony Stark, clad in nothing but a pair of dark jeans, is buzzing about your small kitchenette. Simultaneously, there are eggs being flipped over-easy on the stovetop, orange juice being procured from the open fridge, bacon sizzling happily in a pan, and toast being buttered. You stand in amazement for a few seconds, processing the scene before you. The wonderful aroma of the all-American breakfast makes you mouth water.

“Y/N! Hey!” Tony exclaims when he sees you.

You slide onto a stool at the bar top, overlooking the controlled chaos unfolding in the kitchen area. Tony truly has remarkable skill when it comes to multitasking. You guess, all that time in the suit, operating about twenty computing systems at once, was good practice.

“Wow. Breakfast?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you cook?”

He scoffs, shooting you a brief smile before turning away to rapidly crack some black pepper onto the eggs.

“Cooking is easy. People think it’s a skill, but really it’s just planning, timing it out. It’s like assembling anything else. You just do the parts in order, trying not to break any yolks.”

You roll your eyes sarcastically at the classic “Tony” response.

Suddenly, all the components come crashing together, and Tony is setting down two perfectly assembled breakfast plates on the bar top — complete with a glass of orange juice for each of you. It looks delicious; it’s been way too long since you had a proper breakfast. Meaning, a breakfast that wasn’t cereal, a protein bar, or a bowl of sad, pale, scrambled eggs. You thank Tony as he pulls up the other stool to sit across from you.

“Dig in,” he says cheerfully, raising his fork. “Good run this morning?”

You nod, taking a big gulp of orange juice.

“Yeah, I heard you leaving,” Tony continues mindlessly. “Kind of weird waking up to an empty bed after a night like that. I finally know what it feels like to be on the other side, I guess.”

You nearly spit out your bite of toast. And just like that, reality comes crashing back down to earth. For a brief moment, it had felt like things could possibly come out normal on the other side. You and Tony could go back to being perfectly normal best friends.

How ignorant.

“What?” you remark incredulously.

You’re on the verge of laughter, partially out of amusement but mostly out of bewildered embarrassment.

Tony gives you his award-winning “I’m innocent!” raised-eyebrow expression. You suddenly become acutely aware of the situation. Tony Stark is sitting in your kitchen, shirtless, serving you breakfast. After you spent a far-from-platonic night rolling around your sheets together. You want to slap yourself.

“I’m talking about the incredible sex we had last night. And then, you leaving me alone before sunrise,” Tony explains casually, pushing your buttons further. “That's usually my play.”

He looks up at you, expecting a playful quip in return. Instead, you just slowly set down the fork you had been gripping.

“Tony,” you begin, seriously and calmly. “Let’s not talk about it. It was one night, and it won’t happen again. It was just once. We gave into the moment, but we shouldn’t-“

“The moment?” Tony suddenly blurts out, interrupting you. You purse your lips, surprised by the new and unexpected edge of anger in his voice. “God. Y/N. The moment, huh? You’re really just going to shrink it down to that. Just a moment.”

You stare at him, confused. Tony’s big brown eyes hold yours with an intensity. It's amazing how fast his sarcastic, playful tone can morph into ferocity. You want to look away, break his gaze, but you can’t. This whole thing was a mistake.

“It was fun,” you finally say. “But it was just a fuck. We were lonely.”

“You know, Y/N. You’re so damn smart,” Tony replies, leaning back a bit in his seat. “So, why do you always try and kid yourself? It bothers me. I know -- that you know -- that this wasn’t just a fuck.”

Your mind races through a million different responses.

Then, what was it?

What do you mean?

Why are you acting like this?

I'm not kidding myself.

But something tells you, deep down, that there's nothing you can say that won't lead to something you don't want to hear.

So, instead, you angrily snatch up your glass of orange juice, rising from your seat at the bar. You grit your teeth at Tony one more time before turning your back and striding toward to your study. You feel your cheeks burning hot.

The study is a second living room-sized space where you keep all your projects. Early sunlight is now streaming in through the large windows, falsely giving the impression of a peaceful Saturday morning. The large wooden table tops are littered with wires, microchips, and other electronic parts. When you first met the Avengers year ago, you and Tony butted heads over your shared expertise in technology and robotics. After much bickering and trying to outdo each other, you eventually accepted one another's intelligence and bonded over your shared field.

You look to the floor of your large study to see the air mattress you had set up there prior to Tony's arrival yesterday, obviously still pristine. You squeeze your eyes shut. Your apartment is absolutely dripping with reminders of last night's events. The empty whiskey glasses, still sitting on the side table in the living room. The couch pillows crumpled from the weight of your bodies, hungrily crashing together above them. You don't even want to think about your bedroom, where you're sure Tony's missing shirt is strewn on the ground.

You push the thoughts out of your your mind, pulling up a seat at your work table. You start to fiddle with a new lightweight shoulder pauldron you're currently designing. You can feel yourself going into 'shut-out' mode, trying your hardest to focus all your attention on the metal in your hands. This was all too much. This was all wrong.

When you hear footsteps behind you, entering the study, you ignore it. Tony quietly traverses the floor, coming to pull up a chair on the other side of the work table. He silently watches you working the wires into place. You don't look up. You don't have to see his expression to know the contemplative expression undoubtably painted on his face. You also don't have to look at him to know he's pondering more than just your work.

"You know, aluminum-titantium alloy won't hold up after a few heavy hits," Tony comments, nodding to the armor piece.

"I'm gonna chromatize it," you reply dryly, not looking up from your hands.

"I wouldn't bother. You can't just give everything a shiny coat to hold it together. If the problem is underneath, that is."

Fuck Tony and his fucking metaphors.

You growl angrily, throwing the pauldron down in frustration. You sit back in your seat and cross your arms, finally meeting your friend's eyes.

"Ok, fine," you say matter-of-factly. "Let's talk about it. It was good. It was really fucking good. And we both needed it. But that's it. I'm willing to leave it at that and forget about it if you are."

Tony rubs his beard in his palm, seemingly mulling over your words. His brown eyes don't leave yours. The warm sunlight coming in through the window behind him paints yellow patches on his bare shoulders, bathing him in gold. You take a mental picture of him, sitting there in his thoughts. A brief, intrusive thought passes through your mind, threatening that this could be the last time you see him. You immediately banish the notion. This friendship means too much to you. Not even a fuck-up as big as this one could make you want to toss it away. You hope Tony agrees.

"Help me understand where your head's at, Y/N," Tony finally replies. "What is your biggest concern right now? Wait, listen, I know there's a lot of reasons why last night was bad. But I want to know what you're thinking."

You sigh, uncrossing your arms. As much as Tony's 'list-and-analyze' reaction to crisis could be annoying, in some ways, it comforted you. Tony is impulsive, yes, but those who know him best also know his calculative nature: the mental risk assessments, the contingency plans labelled through Z. Always searching for the route that will hurt everyone the least. Always.

You consider his question carefully. Again, there's a million answers: the risk of ruining your friendship, the potential awkwardness, Pepper -- oh, god, Pepper --, the pain and grief you've both been through in the past few years. You close your eyes and pick one.

"You're one of the only people left that I trust. One of my only friends. Complexity doesn't often end well."

"You're right," Tony admits. "But aren't you the one who asked, 'is it wrong to not want to be alone'?"

You scoff loudly, angered by his using your words against you. However, that bitterness melts away into nothing when you see the heart-wrenching expression on Tony's face. His lips are pursed, and his eyes are searching yours desperately. Tony rarely shows outward weakness, but right now, the man before you isn't Iron Man. The man before you is broken. Someone who has tried everything to hold it -- his sanity, his relationship, his life -- together, to save the people he loves, to be strong. Someone who failed at that. Someone who truly felt alone.

You rest your chin in your palms and sigh, the weight falling over you as well.

Finally, you speak.

"Isn't it awful -- and strange -- how it can feel like a lifetime ago and just yesterday at the exact same time?"

Tony nods sadly at your observation. Of course, you were talking about the snap. About Thanos.

"You're right. About everything," he remarks. "Sometimes, it just gets too much. The...”

Loneliness. You finish his sentence in your head.

“Me too.”

“You should know though,” Tony continues. “I would never stop being your friend. No matter how complex things are. This — what we’ve been through — could never change, Y/N.”

There it is.

Some situations feel like you're running in circles; you're spiraling downwards and everything you say only makes matters worse and worse. It feels like sinking in quicksand with no way out. In every one of those situations, there's a key -- that one sentence, that one idea, that effortlessly clears the fog. This was it. Tony is going to be here, always. Everything is going to be alright.

You straighten up a bit in your seat. You let out a long sigh and give Tony a small smile.

"I know," you assure your friend. "Sometimes I forget everything that's happened. How complicated it's been before. How we made it out."

Tony laughs, and you're relived.

"How could you forget? It's been a wild ride."

The two of you grin at each other. You take a sip of your orange juice, which you had forgotten about and was now lukewarm.

"OK, happy?" you inquire with a playful tone. "Base material fixed. No need for shiny coats of anything. We're solid now."

Tony lets out a hearty chuckle at the stupid analogy. Suddenly, he stands, circling the work table until he's right in front of you. You suck in a breath of oxygen. From your seated position, your head only comes up to his abs. Bare abs, that is. You tilt your face upwards to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," he says gently. “Stand up.”

Confused, you rise to your feet. Before you can open your mouth to say anything else, Tony’s lean and muscular arms are wrapped around you. He pulls you into his chest, embracing you in his warmth. His grip is firm, as if he’s afraid you might run away. You soften into the hug, wrapping your arms around his back. You feel safe.

After a few moments, Tony releases you. However, he doesn’t move away, and the two of you are still nearly chest-to-chest. You peer up at him, and your friend’s warm toffee eyes meet yours.

“Wow, a Tony Stark hug?” you remark sarcastically. “I should play the lotto today.”

Tony chuckles under his breath. Despite your joking, it was true that Tony rarely gives hugs. He just isn’t the touchy-feely type — according to himself. Somehow this gesture, right now, meant everything. A hug was the most intimate thing Tony could have given you. It was a seal, a mark saying ‘I meant every word I just said.’

Tony is still standing directly in front of you, so close there’s only a magazine’s width between you. He’s so near that you can feel the warmth of his steady breathing, and the slight radiating heat from the arc reactor in his chest. Suddenly, you feel that familiar tug in your stomach. A rush of blood downwards...

“Tony-“

“Do you want me?” Tony cuts you off. His voice is low, gentle.

You suck in a breath of air at his words. Despite his directness, there's a detectable edge of nervousness in his tone. You smile internally at knowing you have this effect on Mr. Playboy. The slight uncertainty in Tony's voice also tells you that it's true: this is different. Last night was not just a mindless fuck. This is an understanding, wrapped around a mutual care that runs so deep that it burns.

You don’t even try to convince yourself that you don’t want Tony. Every ounce of your being is screaming to close the gap between you. You can still hear the scientist-logic-brain in you resisting, but your heart feels at ease. You and Tony. A concept that felt like the forbidden fruit itself just ten minutes ago now looked more like an oasis. And oasis that was maybe alright to take a drink from every once in a while.

You snake one hand upward to hold his cheek. Tony pushes gently into your palm.

It's you who leans in first. When your lips collide, it's soft. He presses himself into you, a delicate sigh escaping. You pull back just enough to whisper a breathy "I want you."

And oh, god do you want him.

“Then, have me,” Tony whispers back, gently.

You nearly visibly shiver. Any trace of hesitation is gone from his voice now. His words are demanding, but his tone is more of a plea.

“Do you want to go the bedroom?”

“No,” Tony replies immediately. He’s breathless. “Right here.”

You immediately feel wetness drop into your panties. Tony’s eyes have grow darker, as they bear down at you. The intensity makes your legs feel weak. You need him. He needs you.

In a moment of boldness, you bring your hands down to the hemline of your shirt. You lift the garment up and over your head, placing it on the work table beside you. Tony’s eyes wander to your red sports bra and your now-stiffened nipples showing through the sleek fabric.

In the next breath, Tony is suddenly kissing you again, his lips against yours in a desperate hunger. He brings his large, roughly calloused hands to your waist. He firmly grips your body, making you feel tiny in his hold. You let a small moan escape your lips.

Still holding you in his grasp, Tony starts to walk you backwards until your backside is pressed against the edge of your large work table. Tony’s hips press forward into you, making you gasp with excitement. You fingertips tangle in his hair, just wanting more and more and more...

In an effortless movement, Tony lifts your sports bra over your head. He throws the red fabric to the side, neither of you caring where it lands. Tony breaks away from your lips, starting to kiss down your cheek, jaw, and then finally giving attention to the delicate skin on your neck. Again, he’s careful not to nip or suck too hard to leave marks. The light scratching of his facial hair contrasts with the soft wetness of Tony’s lips, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

He continues to attend to your neck and jaw as one of his jean-clad thighs moves to fall between your legs. You let out a deep groan as Tony begins to rub and and roll his knee forward, stimulating your clothed core. His movements are like a wave, every forward crest bringing you a tiny bit of that friction your body wants so, so much. You’re in awe of the control Tony has over his movements and the effortless pleasure he’s capable of giving. You can’t help but find his experience and expertise sexy.

“Y/N,” Tony breathes against your neck. “Say it again. Please. Say you want me.”

It occurs to you that, aside from last night, Tony hasn’t felt wanted in a long time. Like, truly wanted. A pang of sadness fills your heart.

“Tony. I want you,” you declare, making sure the conviction in your voice shines through. You don’t have to try. You desire him more than anything right now. “I want you. I want this.”

With your words, Tony moans deeply into your jawline and begins to move his leg between yours more vigorously. Your fingertips trace over his bare back muscles. You trail your hands upward, into the nape of his neck, massaging his scalp. Everything about his beautiful form fits perfectly in your hands.

Tony continues moving downwards, soon finding your right nipple in his mouth. You arch your back, letting a loud moan escape your lips. He works your nipple expertly, rolling it and playing at it with his tongue. He alternates to your other nipple, his thumb replacing where his mouth just left. He lightly strokes the hard, spit-slick bud, and the combination of coolness and friction is heaven.

Tony stands back up, and a second later, his hands are at the elastic band of your running shorts. His eyes meet yours for a moment, silently asking for your permission. You nod a bit too eagerly, and Tony cracks a small, teasing smile. You scoff and lightly slap his shoulder, returning the smile.

Tony pulls your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you in just your underwear. Next thing you know, Tony’s arms are around your waist. You let out a soft, surprised squeal as he lifts you effortlessly to sit on the edge of the work table behind you. Slightly elevated now, you come to about the same height as Tony.

“Hey,” you protest playfully. “Be careful. There’s important stuff here.”

Tony reaches behind you to clear the area, moving your half-finished projects and parts to the side.

“My apologies, Ms. Y/L/N,” he replies with a huge grin. “Got a bit carried away.”

You pull him into another deep kiss. He growls with pleasure when you nip at his bottom lip. Tony is now standing between your knees, his torso pressing gently into your panty-covered pussy. You can feel his erection through his jeans, straining against his clothes. After seeing Tony’s length for the first time last night, the mental image of his cock — just a few millimeters away from your core — is enough to make you drool. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him in harder against you. He moans into your mouth, and you feel the vibrations as your tongues tangle together.

You feel Tony’s body leaning forward, slowly coaxing you to lay down on the table. Now fully on your back, Tony’s above you, taking in the sight of your body.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most magnificent creature on Earth?”

“No,” you reply with a smirk. “But now, knowing how many other planets are out there in the galaxy, just being Miss Earth doesn’t seem like a huge deal.”

Tony laughs, smiling with his teeth. You find the crinkles that form on the outer corners of his eyes utterly endearing.

“Well, you’re still one out of four-and-three-quarters billion,” he jests back. “Not too shabby. It’s all about the little victories.”

You giggle. The pleasant thought passes through your mind that despite the current situation, everything does feel strangely normal. Tony is still Tony; you’re still you. The banter between you and your friend is still comfortable and easy. Your relationship, although maybe morphing into something more nuanced, remains unmoved.

You’re so caught up in your inner thoughts, that you don’t register Tony kneeling to the ground between your legs. You gasp when you feel his warm mouth over your still-clothed pussy. The combined wetness of his mouth and your core easily soaks through the fabric of your panties, making it cling to your skin. Tony runs his tongue over your folds, through the saturated cloth. You groan with pleasure, the small of your back arching off of the table. You grip Tony’s dark hair, needing something to hold onto.

The sensation of Tony’s lips and tongue through your thin panties is completely unique, and fuck, does it drive you wild.

After a few minutes, Tony’s hands reach up to hook in the waist of your panties. He removes your final garment, leaving you fully bare. His mouth immediately returns to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, before running downwards through your lips, and then back up again. He alternates this pattern with gentle sucks on your clit.

“Oh, Tony. Shit,” you manage to call out. “That feels so good.”

He hums hungrily into you, pleasuring you to a level that no previous lovers have ever come close to. Tony’s large, rough hands wander upwards. One palm gentle grips your breast, while the other comes under your waist to hold the small of your back.

You raise your head slightly to glance down at Tony. The sight is pornographic. His face is buried in your cunt, head bobbing. The shape of his shoulder muscles, and his strong back. His tan skin, all bathed in golden sunlight.

Pleasuring you. On his knees.

It’s like a painting. Beautiful and erotic.

“Tony. I need you,” you gasp out, suddenly overcome with neediness. “Inside me. Fuck, I want you.”

Those magic words, again. I want you. The effect they have on Tony is instantaneous. Without hesitation, Tony is on his feet. He swiftly unbuttons his jeans and pulls down the zipper. His pants fall down to his ankles where he kicks them off. To your surprise his naked cock springs free. A glistening pearl of precum is formed at the tip.

“Wow, commando, huh?” you tease, gently biting at your bottom lip. “You were so confident you were going to get lucky again today?”

“Of course not. I just like to let it breath sometimes,” Tony remarks. “You wouldn’t get it. It’s a man thing.”

You scoff and roll your eyes sarcastically. Lovable idiot.

“Top drawer?” Tony asks, referring to the location of the condoms.

“On the left.”

Tony hurries out of the room and returns a second later with a condom from your bedroom. Stepping closer between your knees, he gives his cock a few pumps in his fist. You can feel your heart quickening with anticipation. Your pussy is nearly pulsing, needing to be stretched and filled.

Tony rips open the shiny wrapper and rolls the condom down onto his length. You scoot slightly closer to the edge of the table as his hands travel to grip your thighs. You moan deeply as Tony rubs the head of his cock over your slit, spreading your moisture.

“Are you ready?” Tony asks, eyes dark with desire.

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Make me feel good.”

With that, Tony starts slowly pushing into your dripping pussy. You groan as your walls accommodate to his girth. It’s amazing that you took him just last night, and he’s already capable of stretching you like this again. Tony throws his head back, hissing in pleasure as he bottoms out, his pubic mound flush against yours.

He starts pumping gently. The way Tony’s hips roll forward in fluid motions makes you want to scream with pleasure. His hands are gripping your thighs tightly, fingertips digging into the soft flesh.

Tony’s pace quickens, and soon the room is filled with sounds of wetness, skin slipping on skin, and the moans leaving both your throats. One of Tony’s hands moves to your pussy. His thumb rubs tight circles on your clit making you see stars behind your eyes. The extra stimulation almost immediately starts tightening the orgasmic coil in your stomach. Tony seems to know the exact speed to move his cock and thumb to turn you into a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Oh, more,” you groan, your pleasure growing. “Tony Stark. Yes, oh, please.”

“Come for me, Y/N,” Tony growls almost primally. “Wanna feel you squeezing around my cock.”

Tony’s filthy demands go straight to your pussy. You love the feeling of being under him, sprawled out on the table, completely naked for him to fuck. And the dirty talk is the cherry on top.

The pleasure in your abdomen continues to rise until you’re on the edge of ecstasy. With one last thrust, your orgasm washes over you. You scream Tony’s name into the room, not caring who hears. Pulses of pleasure rip through your entire body, even making your feet tingle. When you come down, the convulsions slowing, your head feels fuzzy and bubbly.

Not even a moment later, you feel Tony lifting your legs higher. Still inside you, he straightens them, bringing your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The new sensation is instantly nirvana. He starts pumping into you, and the head of his cock rubs your G-spot on every thrust. Penetrative sex had never felt this good for you.

“You feel so fucking amazing, Y/N,” Tony manages to says between moans. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

The feeling of your pussy being pounded in this angle has your eyes rolling back into your skull. All your thoughts seem to leave your head. The only thing you can focus on is the immense pleasure. The sound of Tony’s balls slapping against you wetly with every stroke combined with his desperate moans fill your ears.

Tony’s thrusts start to become more jagged, needy. His moans slowly transform more into whimpers as he continues to fuck into you. Suddenly, Tony comes with a series of loud groans, his eyes shut tight. You feel his dick pulsating inside you as he orgasms. He thrusts a few more times, riding out the last waves.

He gently slides out of you, his hands coming down the tabletop next to your waist to steady himself. Both of you are breathing heavily, your bodies radiating with the afterglow of pleasure.

Silently, Tony helps you to stand before sweeping you up easily in his arms. You lean into his chest as he carries you to the bedroom. Tony lays you down carefully on the cool mattress before hurrying to the bathroom. He returns a moment later with a warm washcloth.

After cleaning yourselves up, Tony crawls into the refreshing sheets beside you. He slips one arm under your neck, and you cuddle in closer to his body. The warmth and smoothness of his skin is so, so welcoming. In the strangest way, it feels natural.

“I didn’t think it was possible to top last night,” you finally say, chuckling.

“Me neither,” Tony replies. “I guess we just have good chemistry.”

“Who would’ve thought?” You laugh and drape an arm over his chest. “Hey, question.”

“Ask away.”

“Why did you cook all that stuff earlier? Like the eggs, toast, the whole nine yards. It was sort of...”

“Out of character?” Tony finishes your sentence.

You nod. Tony takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly.

“Honestly, when I woke up, and you were gone, I was freaking out a little bit. I wanted to talk about last night, but you weren’t there, and I just didn’t know what you were thinking. If you were having serious regrets, or if you were angry, or upset with me. Or if you were thinking our whole friendship was burned to the ground.

“I just needed to do something. Anything. Busy my hands, distract my mind. Sorry that I kind of raided your kitchen.”

You turn to peer up at him, letting out a soft laugh. His chocolate eyes meet yours, and you give him a kind smile, endeared by his typical, hyper ramblings.

“I’m sorry I left,” you start. “I was freaking out a little, too. I guess that’s always been a difference between us. I always try to run from the unknown, while you just want to plow straight through it.”

Tony smiles warmly and blinks his gorgeous, thick black eyelashes at you.

“It’s why we make a good pair. Balance. Yin and yang. Ya’ know.”

You both chuckle, content in one another’s arms. You open your mouth to reply, but you’re cut off by a loud growl from your stomach. Tony bursts into laughter.

“Your fault for barely touching breakfast,” Tony remarks playfully. “Which — not to toot my own horn — was quite artfully made.”

“I guess I could settle for a bowl of lowly cereal as punishment,” you reply with mock sadness.

Tony chuckles and shakes his head. He starts to rise from the bed, then offers his hand for you to follow.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some more eggs.”

#tony x reader #tony x fem!reader #avengers imagines #avengers fic #avengers smut #tony stark #smut #tony stark smut #marvel fics #iron man #iron man smut #iron man fic #dom!tony #soft!tony #friends to lovers #tony stark fluff #fanfic

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dancingamongstdust · 3 years

Text

MHA Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 3)

All Might

There was an ache in your shoulder despite the painkillers. It was persistent, a constant reminder that your time in U.A. was beginning to lower your reaction speed. Perhaps you should consider returning to a full-time career in the hero world instead of taking random jobs here and there.

Sighing, you finished up with your costume and opened the door to find none other than Principle Nezu waiting for you.

“Great timing!” he chirped. “I was about to come and tell you that you’ll be sharing your second-year physical training class today.”

“The class that begins in twenty minutes?”

“That very one. When I found out that you had injured yourself, I thought that it would be best for you to take on an assistant of sort.” Nezu hummed softly to himself, as if wondering if he should continue. “And perhaps it will be a good experience for Toshinori to see how one can balance their time.”

You chuckled, catching onto the principle’s plan. “I don’t think a hero of All Might’s stature would have anything to learn from somebody like me.”

“There’s no doubt that he’s the better hero –“

“You could put that more nicely.”

“But you have far more experience teaching,” Nezu finished. “You take it easy to ensure your continued health and even though you whine about your lack of excitement, you never go out and chase it.”

That was true. Every year, you told the principle that you would be quitting and each time, he would laugh and tell you that you never would. You blamed the students. They were way too easy to get attached to.

All Might was waiting at the training grounds, his hands on his hips and a smile on his face. The latter looked almost painted on. He absolutely towered over you, seemingly taller in person.

“We haven’t met properly before,” you said, giving your name. “But may I just say that I have endless respect for your heroic accomplishments.”

He laughed proudly. “Thank you. Nezu says that you got injured during a fight with a villain, is everything alright?”

There was something about his voice that you didn’t quite like. It just sounded so patently fake. Perhaps that was why you hadn’t been surprised when the news about his true form was shared amongst the faculty. It seemed to you that it should have been a given. Nobody spoke like he did in their day to day lives.

“It’s a shoulder injury,” you said. “In a similar line, you can drop the All Might moniker for a short while if you want. This class is incapable of arriving less than ten minutes late.”

“That’s alright! I’m sure this is a far more useful form.”

“Suit yourself,” you said with a nod. You rolled your shoulder and winced. “I’m going to need to have you taking over the majority of the hands-on training if that’s alright with you? If I push myself now, I’m just going to do more damage to the muscles.”

All Might gave an affirmative and then pondered your words. It was unsurprising when he seemingly vanished into a cloud of smoke, dropping the vast majority of his muscles and showing a far-more human façade.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he acknowledged. “Some rest before teaching would be easier on my injuries.”

You smiled. “The last thing you want to do is let these students think they’re strong enough to take you on just yet. Don’t need that going to their heads.”

Endeavor

It was an accident that led to your first encounter with the recently elected number one hero. And it had mostly been as a result of a very long day filled with endless bad luck.

You had been walking through the parking garage after having coffee spilled on you, losing your keys, and nearly breaking your ankle when an escalator stopped working. It was overall an awful day. And it was about to get even worse.

It must have been as a result of some kind of villain but the exact situation escaped you. All that you knew was that somebody got thrown from out of nowhere. They flew into one of the pillars and cracked it. You jumped and immediately rushed over to them. It was only once you were right beside him that you realised the fire was part of him.

“You’re Endeavor…” you breathed. “Are you alright?”

The hero stood, clearly shaken. A deep scowl covered his face. He was much, much taller than you had thought he would ever be. “Get out of here before you get hurt.”

Before either of you could do anything else though, the ground seemed to tremble, much like an earthquake. You looked up wearily. This was the ground floor so it wasn’t like you could fall through anywhere.

And then the ceiling started to crumble.

You barely had time to react, just screwing your eyes shut and hoping for the best. A wave of heat washed over you. Dust filled your lungs and you coughed as all around you, a cacophony of collapsing rubble filled the air.

An unnatural silence took over.

Slowly, you opened your eyes. It was far too dark with a flickering light illuminating a large cavern of rubble held up by a few of the pillars that were still standing. Powder swirled around you, filling your lungs and making you cough heavily. Then you noticed the reason that you hadn’t gotten so much as a scratch.

Endeavor stood over you, shielding you entirely. He showed no visible discomfort but as you stared, you realised that part of his suit had been ripped and blood trickled down his side.

A few seconds passed and he moved away. In the tight space, he was unable to even stand straight. “Damn it,” he cursed. “There’s no way that Hawks can move any of this nonsense. We’re going to be stuck here until rescue teams arrive.”

You sunk down slowly, sitting against something sharp and putting your hand over your mouth. “I’m going to die,” you whispered. “There’s no air here…”

“Don’t be dramatic,” the pro-hero snapped. “We have plenty of time before the air runs out. If it was just me, I could blast through here in no time.”

“Why can’t you?”

He stared at you as though you were stupid. “Either I would risk bringing the rest of this concrete down on your head or you would stand too close and get burnt. Somehow, I don’t think you would prefer either of those options.”

You shook your head and tried to hold back tears. This day had been worse than any other in your life. Should you call your family and friends? Was it worth worrying them just to hear their voices? Endeavor didn’t seem worried so maybe you should just trust that you would get out and everything would be fine. Or maybe you would die and –

Your thoughts were cut off by him suddenly appearing in front of you. “Relax,” he said. “If you panic, you’re just going to make the entire situation worse.”

“We’re trapped under concrete,” you said. “We could die.”

“You’re not going to die. Now stop being pathetic and find a way to occupy yourself that doesn’t cause a panic attack.”

You swallowed and took a deep breath. “Alright. Alright.”

He nodded, moving considerably further away and then his flames flickered off. And that was your first meeting with Endeavor. Surprisingly, you ended up speaking until you were rescued.

Eraserhead

It had all begun years ago.

You remembered distinctly how you had been sitting in the garden and watching the bees happily buzz past. It was a warm day with a slight saltiness to the air. A perfect time to enjoy the summer as though you had no worries in the world.

Conversation filled the air and you perked up, recognising one of the voices. You had only managed to stand up when a blur of blue hair slammed into your side, pulling you into a tight hug with a happy shout of your name. Laughter filled the air as you nearly fell, unable to even hug back.

“Oboro!” you giggled. “I thought you were only getting back next week!”

He finally let you go and shot you a smile that made the sun look dim. “I was but then my parents said my friends could stay over! Come meet them.”

Oboro had been your closest friend for years but since going to U.A., you had seen less and less of him. That wasn’t to say that you hadn’t kept in contact of course but you missed him greatly.

His friends were… not what you expected.

The exceptionally loud blond was Hizashi Yamada and his quirk was volume-based. He greeted you with a booming shout, apparently having been told about you several times before arriving.

But Shota Aizawa interested you far more. He didn’t speak much and you never did find out his quirk when you were younger. When you’d asked why he wanted to be a hero, he just told you that he liked it. The rest of the week, you developed a bit of a crush on him and spent most of your time trying to impress him.

When the week ended, you didn’t see him again for a very long time and the next time you saw him, it was under circumstances you had never even imagined.

You were wearing a veil to hide your face. There was no dramatic rain or dark thunder on the day of the funeral. Rather fittingly, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. You liked to imagine that was Oboro’s final gift. A beautiful day to celebrate him.

Yamada had put his hand on your shoulder, subdued and quiet for the first time. He was a pro-hero now and you often saw his face on magazines.

Soon, he left to speak to others and you remained by the grave with only one other.

“Being a hero is more dangerous than I ever thought,” you said, not sure why you were speaking but feeling the urge to regardless. “You and Yamada have to stay as safe as you can, alright? He would want that.”

Aizawa glared at you from the corner of his eye. “How would you know that?”

“Because you were the most important people in the world to him,” you said. “Of course that’s what he would want.”

Aizawa didn’t speak anymore but after a while, he turned to leave. Before going, he paused and looked as though he wanted to say or do something. You met his gaze. It felt as though he could see straight through your veil, revealing the tears that streaked your face. The atmosphere wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just sad.

Still, standing there and just existing helped you to remember the loss wasn’t just your own. When Aizawa left, you turned back to Oboro’s gravestone feeling less alone in the world.

You were going to miss him like hell but you wouldn’t be remembering him by yourself.

Fatgum

As a solitary and underground hero, it was quite rare that you were contacted for big jobs. Rarer still that you took them instead of passing them on.

But something was different about this time.

This time, you had a personal vendetta drawing you to one of your least-favourite jobs – working with other heroes. It wasn’t that you didn’t get along with them but many weren’t in it for actually helping people. That put a bad taste in your mouth.

The job wasn’t technically being led by you purely because the information had come through a larger agency. They hadn’t wanted to pass it off to you alone so now you were sitting in the briefing room, listening to them going over everything that your investigations had revealed. No credit given, of course.

You stood toward the end and offered a simple warning. The villain that you were after had little concern about causing collateral. If anything, he relished in it. Your warning was primarily targeted at some of the heroes whom you knew dealt more with casual villains.

Many of them got overwhelmed when they came up against drug dealers and sex traffickers instead of pickpockets.

And then everybody dispersed, each having their own orders about how they would contribute to a safe arrest.

Leaving you alone. At least, you thought you were alone until somebody spoke behind you.

“Do you know what always calms me down? Taiyaki.”

You startled, though you didn’t let it become noticeable. Instead you turned to find yourself absolutely dwarfed by the BMI hero, Fatgum. Somebody you had always known about but never gotten a chance to meet.

“Do I really look that stressed?” you enquired.

He chuckled. “Not to be rude, but you definitely do.”

You sighed and looked at the documents in your hands. It was probably best that you didn’t have a mirror on you. “I’m worried about this case,” you said. “This guy has slipped through my hands a few too many times.”

Fatgum nodded. “I know how that feels but don’t worry too much. Everybody here is a capable hero and together, we’ll get him for sure.”

You raised an eyebrow. Perhaps a few were capable but not everybody.

“You’re too cynical,” he reprimanded though there was little malice to his words. “You should try to trust the rest of us. At least for long enough to get a little sleep.”

You reached up and touched the bags that had formed under your eyes. “Thank you for your concern but I’ll be perfectly fine.” You shoved the documents into a small bag and slung it over your shoulder. Once you dropped them off at home, you could head back out and see if anything had popped up.

“It’s still pretty early,” Fatgum mused. “What are your plans?”

“I’m going to go and see if any of my sources have found new information.”

“Uwabami was meant to be doing that tonight accourding to the schedule,” he pointed out. “But you’re probably not going to be taking the night off. Why don’t you join me for my patrol? You can keep an ear to the ground and also not continue exhausting yourself.”

Sighing, you glanced over your shoulder at him. “We hardly know each other. Why are you so worried about me?”

He shrugged. “Too many heroes drive themselves crazy with this kind of stuff. Come on. My work study students are great, you’ll love them both.”

There was a reason that you didn’t take any of those on but admittedly his two students were entertaining.

Gang Orca

It was all for the sake of the cameras.

You had to remember that when you were getting up before the sun rose. Everything had to be absolutely perfect about your appearance. If it wasn’t then your little ruse would be seen through by every reporter with half a braincell.

Then you had to get to the setup site and speak with the marketing team secretly. You stood with the team leader to one side, discussing everything like old friends over a cup of coffee.

“Essentially, what we’re looking for is a very breathless and awe-struck victim,” he explained to you. “When you speak to the media, try and make it like you never even thought of Gang Orca much before but now his rescue has made him into your favourite. We’re trying to build a greater trust with the public especially amongst children.”

You pulled a face. “I don’t much like working with kids but for a small increase, I can become quite the lover of them for a short while.”

The guy smiled. “You’re one of the best, otherwise I wouldn’t have hired you. You can get your increase.”

“Thank you. Now let’s get to work.”

You made your way to the ‘accident’ site. The costume team ripped your shirt and you had some fake blood dotted around your head. Nothing to make your injuries too severe but enough for some pity.

And then you climbed under the wreck and waited.

Approved photographers snapped their pictures as you were rescued from your metal prison by the tall Gang Orca. His strength alone was enough to pull the door free. He held his hand out to you while using his other to lift the car high enough to help you out. You made a show of crawling free and then stumbling a little.

With one hand on your head, you leaned against him and stared up with a grateful expression. Cameras flashed and he checked the wreck once more before leading you away for ‘medical treatment’.

Once out of view of the media circus, you straightened and wiped some of the fake blood away from your mouth. “Thank you for the rescue,” you said.

Gang Orca didn’t seem very happy about it at all. It was good that his hero image didn’t need too many smiles.

“I’m going to guess that this wasn’t really your idea?”

He sighed. “No. I don’t like the need to fake rescues when there are real people who should be getting help from a hero.”

“But those people aren’t getting paid to better the public’s opinion of you,” you said. “Twenty minutes here can be what knocks you off lists like ‘scariest heroes’ and similar stuff. That way, you get even more opportunities to save people.”

You couldn’t tell if he was grimacing or not but he definitely appeared to be. It made sense. While some heroes relished in the easier work, many didn’t like the media part of their jobs.

“If you’re happy with it, I’d like your autograph,” you said. “It’ll help me sell the whole situation a lot easier.”

“Alright.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t have a warm opinion of the media either,” you said. “They’re vultures who benefit from the fall of good heroes. What I, and others, do helps stop the best from being sidelined just because they’re intimidating or unmarketable. You’re in this for the right reason but the news organisations don’t care about that.”

He sighed deeply. “It’s unfortunate that you’re right. Of course, that doesn’t mean I have to be happy with these kinds of arrangements.”

“Few people are.”

Hawks

Being a photographer was competitive work, especially in a world where people could have quirks allowing them to grow cameras from their bodies.

You had to go the extra mile in order to compete with them and carve out a name for yourself. Either you had to be there first or you had to see something that nobody else did. A good intuition never led you astray.

And so, when you found yourself walking down the right street late one afternoon, you just knew that it was time to take out your camera.

The event was nothing catastrophic. Indeed, it seemed that the main danger was people’s stupidity. A fire had started on the bottom floor of an office building and instead of waiting for first responders to do their jobs, people were choosing to make things more difficult by climbing out of windows and stuff like that.

Soon enough, heroes were on the scene and you had your camera ready.

Naturally, Backdraft was the first to arrive and you got some great photos of the rescue hero doing what he did best. The light from the flames perfectly illuminated the hero and made the entire situation feel a great deal more dramatic than it was.

The second hero was a young woman whose name escaped your mind. She assisted the civilians as best she could but, no sooner did she help one down, and the person was practically taken from her arms.

Bright red feathers flew across the scene, darting into the building and pulling every person free by their clothing. They were lowered safely to the ground though many stumbled.

You didn’t lower your camera but you cursed out Hawks under your breath.

Never, in your wildest imagination, did you expect to hear him respond.

“Well, that’s not a very nice thing to say.”

You startled, just about dropping your camera on the ground in shock. He was perched above your head, atop one of the streetlights, a smirk on his face and his visor down. His wings were shorter than usual and the only way you could tell he was even helping with the incident.

“You ruined my photo,” you said. “And she had him, you know?”

“She was moving too slow. The poor guy would have been stuck in the air for several minutes longer and that’s just not good on the heart. Besides, I can make up for your lost photo if you snap a shot in the next three seconds.”

You scoffed. “A photo of you sitting on a streetlight? From this angle?”

“What? Not dramatic enough for you?”

“Not unique enough, more like. You’re the most photographed hero in the whole of Japan. The internet is teeming with images of you from every possible angle, distance, and situation. I’ve seen them all.”

For some reason, that seemed to get to the pro-hero a little and you were surprised when he landed beside you. You were very rarely this close to a pro, your bravado disappearing now that he was actually standing there.

“So you’re saying I’m not worth a photo?”

Part of you felt like saying that he was and quickly taking one but your pride didn’t allow it. “Not when there are lesser-known heroes here. They don’t have crazy stalkers willing to chase them around the city for any picture.”

“And aren’t they luckier for it,” he sighed. “Ah well, your loss. I’ll see you around.”

With a flap of his wings, he was gone and you watched him go, fighting the urge to snap a photo the entire time.

Midnight

Some would call you shallow but interviews were one of your favourite parts of being a hero. Getting to answer questions and engage with the people who admired you was an experience that you just adored. Not only that but they were often the best place to clear up rumours or speculations so long as they were edited well.

With a reliable broadcaster and positive outcomes on all of your latest jobs, you were extremely excited to be offered an interview. You knew there was an ulterior motive of some kind but you hadn’t been sure as to what.

But still, you arrived early, dressed in your hero costume, and had your makeup done up as best as it could be.

And then you watched the interview before you and you quickly realised that the broadcast was doing a segment. One focused on hero costumes.

Your own was quite unique, a step away from the usual appearance of heroes. Personally, you loved it.

The public however was divided on whether it was fashion forward or just a flop.

And clearly that was why individual heroes had been chosen.

Being interviewed at the moment and practically being drilled on the ins-and-outs of her costume was nobody other than Midnight herself. She looked absolutely amazing as ever. A natural on the stage and in the field.

You had to admit however that you didn’t feel comfortable with the questions they were asking her. She answered smoothly but mostly in deflection.

The other heroes around you agreed with your assessment. This felt like an attempt at creating a media circus. Few were interested in participating anymore.

The moment Midnight gave her leave, the producers began gesturing at you. You gave them a look and turned around with the rest of the heroes there.

Midnight was in a bad mood but she put on a smirk when you made eye contact with her.

“We’re leaving,” you told her. “None of us were told that this was going to be working off controversy.” You wanted to apologise that she had been the first to get interrogated but you didn’t know how to do that.

She laughed. “You weren’t expecting there to be a catch?”

“I mean, I was but I thought they were a little better than running a segment that’s so clearly focused on… well…”

“Sex appeal?” Midnight asked.

You awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah. It probably should have tipped us off that we were all around the same status. No real big names aside from your own have worked with this broadcast channel.”

“And nobody will again once I speak to a few contacts,” Midnight said, a hint of bitterness finally seeping into her voice. “Guess that will teach me to give new places a chance. They’re all looking for the big ratings instead of actual interest. Maybe I should just go into being a teacher full time at this rate.”

“Aren’t you already doing that?”

She shushed you. “Not if I don’t say it out loud.”

You laughed and stuck by her as your group exited the building, ignoring the clamoring from the higher-ups who were desperately trying to convince you to stay. The type of people who would take advantage of being able to pressure people into things. Lovely.

“Don’t you hate how rude they are to you?” you asked her. “I get so furious sometimes and my questions are always tame compared to yours.”

She shrugged. “At some point, you get used to it. I don’t think there’s a question out there that would shock me anymore.”

You really hoped you never reached that point.

Mirko

The villain pulled experimentally at his cuffs. He twisted around and began shuffling when he met your eyes.

“Where exactly are you trying to go?”

He grumbled something under his breath and stopped moving. You raised a hand to your head and sighed. At this rate, you were going to wind up with wrinkles. One of your favourite outfits had been destroyed by this little altercation and nobody had even bothered to show up yet. Somebody had called emergency services, right?

“Stop moving, I can hear you,” you snapped.

The villain would have been a greater threat if you hadn’t happened to be shopping in the area. Your quirk was the perfect match for his own and it allowed you to quickly take control of an otherwise dangerous situation.

Now you sat on a bench, him tied to the nearest building support bench, and you waited for somebody to arrive and take him off your hands.

There was a thump somewhere to your right and you lazily looked up from your phone. Only for your heart to kind of stutter.

“Aw, come on! I was told there was going to be some excitement over here!” Mirko complained. “What gives?!”

The rabbit hero was absolutely gorgeous with white hair and legs that went on for literal days. She was the epitome of everything you aspired to be as a hero. What she did was on her own terms and she fought for the thrill of it all.

You had just never expected to actually meet her.

“I’ve dealt with it,” you said once you had gotten over your shock. You gestured towards the villain. “No problems here.”

Mirko bounded over and stuck her face way too close to his. Her nose seemed to twitch in excitement. “You don’t seem so tough,” she scoffed. “I got the call and it said that this was setting itself up to be a good clash! Are you just that good?”

Her eyes fell on you, bright and teasing. A strand of hair fell in front of her face and she huffed it away without breaking eye contact.

“I am,” you said, mostly joking but feeling unable to deny it.

She threw her head back and laughed. “That’s a good answer. I like your confidence.” She eyed what you were wearing. “Your costume could use some work though.”

You chuckled. “It’s actually pretty similar to yours when I’m not interrupted while shopping. I’ve always loved your style.”

She nodded firmly as though that was a given. Then she looked around and raised an eyebrow. “If this moron interrupted your shopping, then what are you doing hanging around with him? You have things to get back to, don’t you?”

You gestured around. “I do but the police haven’t shown up yet.”

“Don’t worry about them,” she scoffed. “I’ll bounce this guy down to the station for you. Don’t waste time just standing around.”

She turned back to the villain just in time for you to both see him run around the corner. He nearly tripped but managed to keep his footing. You glanced at one another and Mirko laughed heartily. “You stay here,” she said. “I can deal with cowards in well under a minute. They always do the same things to ‘throw me off’ or whatever.”

“I’ll come with you,” you said. “It’s technically my fault he got away. And I could always learn a thing or two from the best, right?”

She grinned. “I knew I liked you. Let’s see if you can keep up though.”

Natsuo

On a good summer’s day, there was nothing better than the beach. The waves gently lapping at the shore, soft clouds drifting across the sky, and few children due to the earliness of the day. It was well worth getting up early to watch the sun creep its way over the ocean and begin what was scheduled to be the hottest day of the year.

Not that you would be outside when it hit noon. By that time, ice cream and a nice spot of shade became necessary.

For now though, you waltzed along the beach and enjoyed the sand beneath your feet. As you walked, you kept an eye out for shells though there were scarce. People came every day to collect this time of year.

In a way, that made you sad.

But the lack of shells did mean that you didn’t need to watch where you were walking quite as much. At least, that was your thought process. Shells cut your feet and there were none so why keep an eye on the sand.

The answer is broken bottles.

It was a sake bottle, probably stolen away by some kids to be drunk where their parents wouldn’t see. The searing pain made you think you’d stepped on a jellyfish. Cursing, you jerked your foot away, blood running down into the sand below.

A small wave washed up, taking the bloodied sand away to reveal the culprit.

Struggling to balance, you hopped away from the bottle and sat down, lifting your foot to see the damage. It was a rather deep slice that made you feel quite woozy. Sand was already sitting around the injury and your only option to wash it off was the very salty sea.

“Sorry, do you need some help?”

You glanced behind you to see a guy standing on the boardwalk. His hair was pale and his expression kind. Something about him seemed oddly familiar but you weren’t sure why.

“I stood on a bottle,” you said. “It’s alright.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you need some help getting off the sand?”

You were going to deny the offer but your entire leg felt like it was on fire. The pain was undoubtedly because of your brain flicking through reminders about the danger of stepping on glass. “If you’re alright with it.”

He made his way down to where you were sitting quite quickly and glanced at your foot. “That’s going to need stitches,” he said. He offered his water bottle to you. “You should clean it off and then put some pressure on it before we move it.”

The cut hadn’t seemed that bad to you but you hadn’t really been looking carefully. “Are you sure?” You still took the water though, hissing as you poured it over your cut.

“Very,” he said. “Do you mind your towel getting blood on it?”

“No.”

He used the towel to put pressure on the cut and then helped you stand, hobbling your way off the beach. Once there, he quickly listed off the nearest hospitals.

“Are you a medical student by any chance?” you asked, trying to keep your mind off the pain.

He blushed. “Sorry, is it obvious?”

You laughed. “Just a little but that’s okay. It was good that you happened to be nearby then. Can I get your name?”

He hesitated but then said, “Natsuo. Don’t worry about my family name.”

Curious now, especially given how familiar he looked, you were tempted to push. But you didn’t and instead thanked him again for his help. He turned out to be correct, of course. You did need stitches.

Present Mic

You stretched before going into the office. Everything was sore – an unfortunate result of your late night. It couldn’t have been helped. Train wrecks were rarely planned.

Principle Nezu greeted you warmly when you arrived and then asked you to sit down. “As I’m sure you’ve heard, there was a recent incident on the grounds. Thirteen was badly injured and we’re in need of a new teacher with expertise in natural disaster management.” He smiled at you. “I thought you would be the perfect match.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression you were going to try convince me to take a work study student.”

“I’m sure you will one year,” he joked.

“Unlikely but you can always offer.” You sighed and turned your gaze out the window. “I have little care for children. This will be a temporary position, yes?”

“We’ll see how it goes.”

You gave him a look but the principle just sipped at his tea. He already knew that you were going to accept – if only because you had always been a close friend of Thirteen’s. Taking over one class wasn’t going to kill you.

“I don’t have any experience in this,” you reasoned. “Other schools must have teachers who can come and cover classes?”

“None who are as experienced in the field as you are. So I’ve organised with Hizashi Yamada to take you through his methods of teaching and you can convert them over. He’ll be here soon.”

You sunk further into your chair, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “What would you have done if I said no?”

“Been very disappointed, of course.”

Present Mic was a hero you had always admired but you hadn’t ever expected him to be as loud in person as he was in the media. You just about jumped out of your skin when he entered the room dramatically, calling out a greeting.

Nezu gave the introductions and informed you that before doing an actual class, you had a week of acting as an assistant instructor alongside Present Mic.

“Should I invest in earbuds?” you joked.

He laughed but then actually lowered his voice as though you had reminded him. “Don’t worry. If I yell too much in class, Shota tends to come and glare through the doorway until I quieten down.”

You chuckled. “Do you have similar teaching schedules?’

“No but he claims that he can hear me from anywhere in the school. It’s the best way to find him actually. You just yell until he shows up.”

“I’ll take that as lesson number one in how to teach at U.A.”

“Lesson number one is to not take Nemuri’s flirting seriously,” he corrected. “I know it’s very flattering to think that she’s interested but she’s not. If it makes you uncomfortable, you can tell her to stop but she doesn’t always listen. It’s part of her image, you know?”

You raised an eyebrow at Nezu but he just shrugged. That didn’t seem like it was too professional but alright.

You took a deep breath and tried to pretend that this was just going to be temporary. It wasn’t like Nezu had been trying for years to get you involved at the school.

Temporary.

“Which subject do you teach?” you asked as you followed Present Mic from the office.

“English. No crazy action or anything which means you have to work double time to keep the students interested. You’ll have it far easier.”

Nobody really prepared you for the fact that Class 1A didn’t know how to do things the easy way.

#mha #bnha scenarios #bnha x reader #all might x reader #endeavor x reader #aizawa x reader #midnight x reader #mirko x reader #natsuo todoroki x reader #present mic x reader #fatgum x reader #gang orca x reader #hawks x reader

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crappycamille · 3 years

Text

On Stand-By (bakugou x reader)

minors DNI

warnings: 18+, voyeurism/exhibitionism, somnophilia-ish (not really), unprotected sex, masterbation

Bakugou couldn't have been dreading a mission more. Why the hell did his agency have to put him, of all people, on this task. Okay fine- he knew that he was the one most fit for the mission but still. This was a pain in the ass.

The Commission was having trouble with a smaller gang of criminals. The mission was for him to wait on stand-by in a small apartment adjacent to the building where the gang's hideout was. Nothing Bakugou couldn't handle on his own, but still, the Commission had to put you on the job too. It wasn't that Bakugou didn't like you, in fact, it was quite the opposite. He always had a hard time controlling himself whenever you were around.

How the hell was he supposed to control himself when you always strolled into his agency in that skin-tight hero suit of yours? When you would come in and shamelessly flirt with his friends. He would see your fights on the news, but he couldn't even focus because with every kick your ass jiggled in such a delicious way. And when that bubbly butt came strolling into his office it took everything in his power to not take you right on his desk.

His pants tightened at the thought of you fucked dumb underneath him. Imagining what your pretty face would look like contorted into a fucked out expression. He wanted to ruin you. However, Bakugou needed to keep it professional. The Commission would often pair the two of you together since you were one of the few people who could keep up with him in combat and agility. Another reason why Bakugou sought after you. So when he heard he would have to be stuck in an apartment with you all day for two weeks he couldn't help but complain.

To make matters worse, when he showed up at the apartment there was only one bedroom. The couch was way too small for either of you to sleep comfortably. So, the two of you had to sleep in the same bed. His assistant sure got an ear full.

The first couple of days weren't bad. The two of you tried to spend the time as far away from each other as possible within the small studio apartment. Aside from simple greetings, neither of you talked to each other very often. Either one of you getting out of the shared bed as soon as you woke up to wordlessly make breakfast. You knew Bakugou well, so if keeping your distance would keep him in a decent mood for longer... the better for you both.

The instructions were to not leave the apartment by any means. The two of you were just supposed to wait for the call. And all Bakugou could do was hope that it was sooner than later.

Everything seemed to be going fine... that is until Bakugou woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of your slutty little fingers deep in your cunt. He couldn't believe his ears. Were you really masturbating with him right next to you?

You were almost too quiet to hear... almost.

You weren't making much noise aside from your labored breathing and the occasional whispered mewl. What gave you away was the not-so-quiet sound of your pussy. It was clear that you were drenched. Bakugou had to do everything in his power to not groan out as he imagined how wet you were.

He was painfully erect, but he didn't dare move a muscle in fear that you would figure out he was awake. He relished in the sounds of your cunt, wishing he could see it for himself.

He listened to you finish and quickly scurry over to the bathroom before falling back asleep. All while leaving him with a painful hard-on for the rest of the night. You were making this so difficult for him.

You went on during the day regularly, clearly unaware you had been caught. But each night the same thing happened. Bakugou would wake up to the sound of you. Some nights were quick and others you took your time to tease yourself. All while he would quietly palm himself to gain some relief. All of it was driving him crazy.

But then. Then... he heard it. Clear as day... His name.

"B-Bakugou" the sound came out as a breathy moan. It was a lot less subtle and quiet than you had intended it to be. Too lost in pleasure to realize the blond next to you heard you cry out for him. A sound that shot straight to his cock. A sound that made him feral.

He snapped.

In one swift motion, he pushed himself on top of you. A hand coming to grab the hand you had been teasing yourself with to keep it in place. A way of showing you he knew what you were doing.

Your eyes shot open wide in surprise, fear written all over your face as his predatory vermillion eyes glared down at you.

"B-B-Bakugou! It's not what it looks-"

"It's not what?" His voice deep and rasped. "It's not me catching you knuckles deep in your pussy being a fucking pervert?" Your pussy fluttered at his crude words. Taking your wrist into his large hand he brought your fingers, soaked in your essence, up to his mouth to suck on them. Groaning out at finally being able to taste you.

"It's not me catching you moan my name while you get yourself off while I was 'sleeping' next to you? Hm? Fucking slut. I bet you wanted to be caught."

"N-No I-"

"N-No I-" he mocked, a smirk gracing his face as he watched you squirm with humiliation. "Quit acting like you haven't been doing this all week." Your eyes widened at the realization he had heard you the entire time.

He began to rut against your clothed crotch, needing to alleviate the ache of his cock. Your hips matching his pace. Grinding against him with need. "What's the matter?" he said with a mocking pout. "Didn't think I'd notice?"

But Bakugou did fail to notice. He failed to notice that you felt the same way about him as he did you. He failed to notice when you would come to his agency more often than what was needed, just to see him. That you went out of your way to impress him on missions. That you would go out of your way to look good for him. That you would often stare for far longer than you were supposed to.

Being in such close quarters with him caused so much tension to well-up in you. You knew it was wrong. You hadn't intended to get caught, you just needed a way to relieve yourself. But in all honesty the thrill of getting off right next to the man you yearn for added to the pleasure. And being in the same bed as the handsome blond with his broad, sculpted back facing you made your lewd imagination run wild.

Your mind was brought back to the present as you felt your shorts being pulled down your legs. Before you could even react, Bakugou's strong hands pried your knees apart to reveal your sopping cunt to his hungry eyes.

He had waited so long for this.

"Bakugou wait-" He cut you off with a sharp slap to your inner thigh.

"It's Katsuki to you. Wanna hear you say my name. Got it." He said as he pressed a lasting kiss to your clit. The act was so gentle it seemed almost uncharacteristic. You couldn't help but nod senselessly, not entirely sure what you were agreeing to.

Before you knew it, the "gentle Katsuki" was gone. Two fingers slid into your slick entrance and began to rapidly pump against your velvet walls.

You immediately clamped down around his fingers due to the sudden intrusion. Your hips trying to get away from the surge of pleasure.

"Ah ah ah. Don't run away." A sadistic grin plaster on his face. "Be a good girl and take it."

"Oh fuck!" a strangled moan released from your lips. "It's too much!"

"Too much?" he said with a mocking laugh. "How the hell do you expected to take my cock if you can't take my fingers, hah?" In reality, Bakugou knew he was torturing you. Giving you no time to even think. Confusing you with going between being gentle and rough within a matter of seconds.

He wanted you to suffer, at least a little. After a week of making him suffer. Making him fight against himself for wanting to hold back. But most of all he was just enjoying seeing you squirm. As much as he imagined you in a state of pleasure, you far exceeded his expectations.

Your eyes half-lidded, struggling to keep them open as your eyes roll back. Eyebrows knitted together. Drool spilling at the corner of you of your gaping mouth that's moaning out his name just like he asked more like commanded. Fuck, you were so sexy.

You had already been teasing yourself. Edging yourself closer and closer to an orgasm, so you were already so close. The pressure building was like no other.

"So close! So close! I'm gonna cum, Katsuki." As much as Bakugou wanted to deny you relief, much like you unintentionally did to him, he couldn't bear to hold back any longer. He wanted to see you come fully undone. He brought his face down to lap and suck on your clit. Pushing you further over the edge.

"Do it. Cum all over me." The pressure snapped inside you. Breaking like a dam. You squirted all over. All over his face, his hands, and the bed.

"Holy shit!" He groaned; his hands never stopping. Working you to elongate your climax. Your hips bucking up to meet the thrust of his hands. His own hips bucking against the bed.

He swears he could cream just from the sight of you squirting like that.

Your hands curl into his hair to pull him into a needy kiss. Your slick dribbling down Bakugou's chin. He can feel your clit steadily throbbing from the overstimulation.

"Please Katsuki. I need it." You whine. "Need to feel you."

Bakugou couldn't wait any longer. He couldn't tease you for a second more. He was so hard it hurt.

"I know you do baby. I know. I need it too." He hurriedly releases his cock from the confines of his shorts. Sighing in relief as he rubs himself against your wet folds. Your hands were all over each other. Grabbing and groping at whatever you could. Both of you were so needy.

You've both wanted this for so, so long.

You hiss when you felt the stretch from Bakugou's thick cock. Bakugou wanted nothing more than to pound into you, but he felt as though he was going to cum any second. Your warm, velvety walls already fluttering around him.

"So fucking tight." He said through a groan. "Relax a little, will ya, you're choking me." He said pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Tears prick your eyes as he begins to move. Snapping his hips up to press the tip of his cock to your cervix in a way no one else has.

"Fuck yeah. So good, you're being so good for me." his praises coming out in mumbles as began to get lost in his own pleasure. "Come on, gimme one more. Cum for me like a good little slut."

"Nuh-uh. I can't." You cried out.

"You can and you will." His hand reached around to circle your puffy clit. Throaty grunts leaving Bakugou as your walls fluttered around him. "Shit. That's it, pretty girl. I want you to cum on my cock."

Your nails dug deep into Bakugou, holding on for dear life. "Cum with me Katsuki! Please. Want you to cum inside me!"

Pleasure clouded Bakugou's vision as pushes himself to fuck you through your orgasm, but he's not far after. Hips stuttering before he painted your walls white.

A sigh leaving him when he finally comes back to his senses, slipping out of you with a hiss as the cold air hits him. But holy- if he looked at you for too long he would get hard again. Seeing his cum leak out of you was a like a dream come true.

Maybe being on stand-by wasn't so bad after all.

a/n: thank you for reading. this is my first fic so feedback is welcomed and appreciated

#bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugou katsuki #thanks for reading

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shig-a-shig-ah · 3 years

Text

LAYING CLAIM

» pairing: dabi x fem!reader

» cw: dubcon, revoked consent, noncon (we’re going on a journey, okay?), rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, crying, gratuitously fanon characterization. 18+, minors DNI.

» a/n: Started this months and months ago, and since I’m finally getting around to wrapping some WIPs, I guess you can have it now. Thanks @thebiggergroove for beta-reading!

» wc: 5.3k

» ao3 mirror

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The thing about Dabi is he's not usually a possessive guy. Fucking is fucking, as far as he's concerned—it doesn't really matter who is doing it with whom as long as everyone is getting off on it. But goddamn if there isn't something about you that makes him want to make you his.

And he's gotten that, more or less. It took some sweet talking and cajoling, and a few late nights where he made you come until you couldn't see straight, but you agreed not to go sleeping with anyone else. Sure, you've made him promise the same, but that's fine. Not that he's going to actually stop, of course, but he goes out on recruiting missions alone and he figures what you don't know won't hurt you.

That's all enough to satisfy him, at least for a little while. But then a few weeks pass and there it is again: that stupid jealousy and all those unbidden thoughts about the people you were with before him. People he knows. You never talk in too much detail about your past hookups, but he's not stupid, is all too aware that he's not the first one in this ragged band of miscreants that you've crawled into bed with. You've fucked Jin, and Shigaraki, and probably even Magne, god rest her soul—Dabi hadn't missed the way the two of you had huddled up giggling in the corner of the old bar one night, disappearing together unusually early, making those bedroom eyes at each other. And in theory that's fine. Nothing wrong with two girls having fun together, after all. Hell, bi chicks are hot and Dabi wouldn't mind taking advantage of that someday.

But first he needs to find a way to get the image of you with your legs spread for half the League out of his goddamn head.

If he's being honest, it's Shigaraki who bothers him the most. Magne is dead. Jin is a decent dude and, Dabi has to imagine, tame as a kitten in the sack. But Shigaraki, well...Dabi can tell just by looking at the guy that he's a freak, and the idea of you riding Shigaraki's dry, crusty dick, of letting him do who-knows-what filthy shit to you? It just gets to him.

And then Toga has to suggest that stupid game and go putting ideas in his head.

You're all sitting around the crumbling office space that passes for a hideout, drinking to celebrate the League's first successful double-amputation (because fuck that germophobic, transphobic prick), and blondie is just begging to play a drinking game. Normally Dabi doesn't go for that shit—why anyone needs an excuse to get wasted is beyond him—but he's in a good mood, and you make that adorable pouty face as you tell him that you played in college, that it's really fun, and somehow he finds himself sitting in a circle on the dusty floor with the rest of you losers playing 'I haven't' or whatever the fuck it's called.

It's all bland shit to start. Toga's never driven a car, Shigaraki's never gone to school. But, after you've made your way around the circle once, everyone seems to be loosening up and Spinner takes one for the team by getting to the interesting shit and admitting he's never slept with a girl. It spurs a moment of awkward silence made all the worse by his red face and obvious self-consciousness about being a virgin, but then Compress stage-whispers "Neither have I," before winking salaciously at the blushing lizard and taking a dramatic pull from his beer bottle. It's enough to lighten the mood.

After that, Dabi's forced to admit it's a decent game. There's not much he hasn't done sexually or criminally, and since those are the two topics everyone focuses on, he finds himself getting hammered faster than usual. It's a good thing too—his buzz makes it easier to ignore the look you and Shigaraki exchange when Jin announces that he's never tried watersports, easier to pretend his gut isn't twisting at the knowing smirk on your leader's face as he raises his beer bottle to drink and you follow suit.

That particular moment makes it all the more surprising when, on your next turn, you hide an embarrassed face behind your hand and announce that you've never taken it in the ass.

Dabi can't stop thinking about it the rest of the night. Obsessing over it, and the idea of being your first, your only, even if only in some less than conventional way. The thing is, it's downright tame in comparison to a lot of what you two get up to, so barely even kinky that it's almost impossible to believe you've never tried it. Sure, you've never done it together, but he'd just figured neither of you were all that into it, since it hadn't come up when you were doing lewd shit to each other.

That kind of sex is fine from his perspective, but only fine. He doesn't actively seek it out because in his mind nothing beats the feel of being balls-deep in a warm pussy, but that doesn't mean he hasn't done it. He's hooked up with plenty of girls that were into it and has always been happy to oblige; hell, he's even taken it more than once, on account of the fact that when it comes to the bedroom he's willing to try anything twice.

But doing it with you? Well, that thought sticks. The two of you finally go to bed and Dabi's so turned on by the idea of your virgin ass that he can't help testing the waters, prodding teasingly at that tight hole with one spit-slicked finger until you're squirming away and whining. He doesn't manage to convince you right then, but he makes those puppy dog eyes that are far more effective than they have any right to be, and you agree to give it a go in the future.

"Not here," you specify, the words fuzzy on your drunken tongue. "Someplace nicer, with a real bed." You already have your reservations, and you certainly don't relish the idea of undertaking that particular venture now, on a worn mattress in this falling apart building, with its paper-thin walls and complete lack of hot water. Between your booze-fueled haze and the seeming interminability of the League's poverty, you mostly forget about that casual promise by the following morning.

But Dabi doesn't. He picks up a small bottle of lube the next day and carries it around in his pocket shamelessly, a little reminder that he has something to look forward to besides roasting that prick Endeavor, and he strokes himself off to the idea more than he's proud to admit as he waits for the League to move on to better things. He can be patient, when he needs to be.

That patience takes a toll though, and the minute the League settles into their new digs in Re-Destro's sprawling villa, where there's actually privacy and clean, comfortable beds, Dabi shows up at your door with a cheshire grin and every intention of finally getting something from you that's just for him.

You grimace when you remember that promise, try briefly to talk him out of it even, but he isn't so easily dissuaded. It's made all the harder by the fact that you can't give him a specific reason why you've never tried it, beyond that it seems uncomfortable and you hadn't particularly enjoyed the couple instances when you'd allowed someone to slip a finger or two in there.

"C'mon, baby girl," Dabi coos, his breath hot in your ear as he pins you to the wall, working two unnaturally warm fingers into your cunt. "I'll make sure it's good for you. Be gentle, get you nice and warmed up first, all that sweet shit."

It really is unfair how persuasive he can be when he fixes those pleading turquoise eyes on you. The way the pads of his fingers are curling just right deep inside isn't helping either, and he teases you like that until you give in to his cajoling, though you still insist on waiting a couple nights so that you can do your research and make sure you're entirely prepared. Dabi demonstrates his appreciation by burying his face in your cunt and not surfacing for air until you've come three times and are begging for a break.

When the night finally arrives, Dabi's feeling positively giddy. He slips into your bedroom with a bottle of wine and a couple glasses he's brought, a little something to help you relax because he's a gentleman when he wants to be. It should be good booze too—he lifted it from Re-Destro's private stash, and he's certain baldy doesn't drink anything that costs less than ¥30,000. Of course, Re-Destro doesn't love sharing either, but the uptight prick is too scared of Shigaraki to complain about anything the League does. They all take advantage of that, because they can and because it's fun to watch him bite his tongue when they piss him off.

You don't make it easy for Dabi to focus on pouring the drinks though, not when you're reclining in that armchair by the window, freshly showered and fidgeting nervously. He was half-erect before he got here from just thinking about what he was going to do to you, and the sight of you acting like you're some blushing virgin spurs him all the way to rock-hard. By the time your glasses are close to empty, he's straining uncomfortably in his pants, and can't fight back his impatience any longer.

"What do you think, doll?" he murmurs, setting his glass to the side and standing up, shrugging his jacket off before leaning down to ghost his lips over your neck. "You ready to move this to the bed?"

The way you chew at your lower lip anxiously before nodding makes his dick throb.

You empty your glass with one final, large swallow, your heart racing as you rise. You know it's stupid—you and Dabi have fucked countless times and a lot of it hasn't exactly been vanilla—but it's been a long time since you've actually tried anything new. His obvious excitement doesn't help either, paradoxically; it leaves you fretting about what will happen if you're somehow bad at this, or if you can't take it and have to stop. You've never really worried about disappointing him before, but now the thought weighs acutely on your mind.

It's with halting steps that you approach the bed and then, when you can't realistically drag your feet any longer, you finally tug the nightgown you're wearing off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor to reveal what's underneath.

"Damn, baby girl," Dabi breathes, looking you up and down. You'd figured that since it was a special occasion you might as well dress up, donning a strappy bra and panties. They're little more than elaborate, crisscrossing pieces of lace, all white since he'd seemed so fixated on this pseudo-innocent, first-time act. His reaction doesn't disappoint, eyes lighting up as he stares at you hungrily.

You let yourself fall back on the bed, nestling against the many pillows. The look on his face has your stomach fluttering, and the wine has helped you to relax a bit despite your nerves, a pleasant warmth spreading throughout your body. It's joined by a different kind of heat when you feel the mattress dip beneath Dabi's weight as he positions himself over you, one knee resting between your thighs, just barely brushing against your center, a hint of what's to come.

"You look so good I could just eat you up," Dabi whispers hotly against your ear before tracing his lips over your jaw. Even though he wants to take his time, let himself savor this, it's taking every ounce of patience he has to keep the promise he made to get you worked up and ready for him, to not to tear those pretty bits of satin and lace off and have his way with you right then.

You whine eagerly when his mouth slants hungrily over yours, savoring the feel of those mismatched lips, the way the rough skin of the bottom one contrasts so deliciously with the top. Hot hands run over your sides as the kiss deepens, your tongues tangling together, and you moan against him.

When you finally break for air, Dabi moves his lips to your throat, his tongue lapping at your pulse before he sinks his teeth into you. He loves to mark you up, loves making sure everyone can see that you're indisputably his, and it's even hotter now that he knows he's going to fuck you in a way no one else has. You're shivering beneath him as he works, your hand tugging insistently at his hair, and Dabi lets out a low, throaty growl.

"Guess I'm not the only one who's eager, huh?"

Your hips tilt in response, pressing needily into his firm thigh, and Dabi can feel the skin on his cheeks straining against his staples as he grins. He traces one hand up over your ribs, cupping at your supple breasts, teasing your hardening nipple through the flimsy fabric of your bra. Those deft fingers work under the seam of your lingerie as he shifts his weight, increasing the pressure against your center while he pinches and tugs at the peaks of your breasts until you're whimpering, spreading slick along his leg even through your thin panties.

Dabi pulls away abruptly, rolling onto his back and tugging at you to change positions, shaking his head when you move to mount his hips.

"Come here, baby girl," he says, his tongue tracing over his bottom lip. "Like I said, I wanna eat you up."

The promise in those words sends a bolt of heat straight through your core as he guides you to straddle his face, hot breath tickling your inner thighs. One calloused thumb brushes your clit lightly through your underwear, blue eyes sparkling when your breath hitches at that soft touch. When he pulls that useless fabric to the side and runs his tongue over your already-damp slit, you shudder.

Dabi lets out a pleased groan at your reaction and gets to work more earnestly, lapping at your sensitive nub, licking and sucking until you're moaning and only then shifting a little so that he can lap at your insides, that same rough thumb replacing the pressure of his tongue on your clit. It strokes firm circles as he buries that hot, wet muscle inside you, the metal barbell there teasing your inner walls as you grind involuntarily against it. You can't help but whine when he withdraws it, but that disappointment is quickly replaced by you startling as that same wet muscle extends further back to tease at your puckered entrance.

"A-ah, Dabi, wait," you protest, your face heating up self-consciously almost at once.

Dabi pauses, shifting just enough to keep his reply from being muffled as one warm hand runs reassuringly up your thigh. "I don't think I can help myself, doll," he says, his slick-coated lips splitting into a wide grin, "you just taste too good."

That heat in your face worsens as he dives back in, not even waiting for you to respond before he's flexing his tongue to poke at that tight ring of muscle. You still try to squirm away, feeling unprepared for this. You hadn't even considered it among the possible activities were volunteering to participate in, but Dabi is holding you firmly in place with the hand not working at your clit, and when another whine of protest escapes you, it's weaker than the first. The foreign sensation of his tongue against your neglected hole has you hyperaware of the press of his thumb at your apex, and you can feel tension building in your core even as you writhe in embarrassment.

It's as though he knows, too, and you suppose maybe he does; after all, he's the one who's done this before. He thrusts his tongue a little deeper, rolling your clit between two hot fingers with enough pressure to cut off any further protests. A long moan is the only sound you can muster as you spill over the edge, your thighs clenching around his head and your hips jerking shakily as you ride out your climax with his tongue still buried obscenely in your rear.

Dabi's face is covered in your juices by the time he slides from between your thighs, and he wipes it away carelessly with one arm as he repositions you again, pinning you on your back and wasting no time peeling away your now-soaked panties. He grins at the sight of your glistening folds and swollen clit before stripping off most of his own clothes, kicking them unceremoniously to the side and relaxing between your legs, kissing at your still-trembling thighs.

He teases at your sensitive cunt with his fingers, coating them in your juices as you whimper. "Ready for a little more?" he asks, and you nod despite the fact that your cheeks are still burning from before and your stomach is knotting with nerves.

"Just...go slow, okay?"

"Of course, baby girl," he promises, "I told you I'd take good care of you." With that, he starts to work you open, dipping one finger into your tight hole just until he reaches the first knuckle, working it in and out slowly. His other hand toys at your clit, stroking and rolling that puffy nub again, making you mewl.

Dabi waits until you're relaxed before trying any more, pulling away from you just long enough to dig the lube from the pocket of his discarded pants, coating his fingers with it. He works that lone finger deeper this time, in and out until it's buried to the last knuckle.

The sensation is strange, but not entirely unpleasant; even if you think you'd rather have that finger curling in your cunt, the slight stretch is still adding to the faint throb already growing inside you, the one that worsens when his thumb returns to your apex.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Dabi growls when one well-placed stroke of his thumb has you clenching lightly around his finger. He ruts his hips against the sheets, trying vainly to find some relief for his aching member, but it's not enough—he needs to feel you, needs the vice-like grip clutching his fingers to be wrapped around his cock, and he needs it soon.

You feel him withdraw to add more lube, and then he's fingering you again, adding another digit to stretch you wider. It comes with a stab of discomfort when he forces his way past the second knuckle, and you reflexively try to pull back. "Dabi, that's too much."

He abandons his soothing attentions to your clit, one warm palm pressing you tight against the mattress to keep you in place, stroking soothingly at your hip. His breath tickles over your inner thigh as he chuckles softly. "If you can't take this, how are you ever gonna take me, hmm?" he says teasingly. "You're doing great, baby, just relax."

You will yourself to unclench, trying to picture Dabi's satisfied face once you're taking him, that adoring look he sometimes gives you, the one that you relish. Your efforts are only marginally effective, but Dabi keeps pushing deeper, fucking you slowly but insistently with those fingers, and when you don't complain again, his thumb returns to caressing your sex.

"That's a good girl." Dabi picks up the pace, cursing under his breath. "You're doing so good."

You're wriggling against his hand now, trying to increase the friction at your center, not quite minding the foreign sensation of his fingers and the uncanny fullness they bring so much now that there's heat thrumming in your core. "Y-yeah, like that," you pant encouragingly, and Dabi grins.

"That doing it for you?" he purrs. "Think you can take more?"

You start to shake your head—the stretch now feels like all you can handle—but Dabi's already adding a third slick finger, shoving it in with less restraint than before. You feel more than discomfort this time when three knuckles breach your asshole, and it quickly dampens the arousal that had been steadily building. "Dabi, slow down," you gasp.

"Aw, are you sure you can't handle it?" His blue eyes meet yours, pupils blown wide with arousal as he looks you over with the hungry gaze. "'Cause if I'm being honest, it feels like you're trying to suck me in. Like this greedy little hole wants to get fucked."

The huskiness of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, even as another whine of discomfort escapes you. For just a second his expression darkens slightly, but then he's slowing his movements, twisting his fingers instead of thrusting them in and out.

"Better?" he asks, and you think you catch an edge of impatience in his voice.

It is better though, a little at least, enough that you can focus on the way your cunt flutters every time his thumb strokes over your clit. So you just nod; it's not like this wasn't bound to be a little unpleasant at points, right?

Dabi's smile stretches wider, his thumb working faster. A mewl slips from between your lips and Dabi takes that as encouragement, his fingers resuming their persistent thrusts. It's still uncomfortable, though not quite as bad as when he started, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to bite back your complaints. You let your eyes fall closed instead, trying to focus on his attentions to your hooded nub, on the heat that's pooling in your lower belly. You're inching towards another release, and you let a hand lift to your breast, tweaking at the pebbled flesh of one nipple to help yourself along.

"D-dabi, I'm close," you stammer, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Yeah?" His movements speed up, his voice breathy and excited. "Do it, baby girl. Come for me and then I'm gonna fuck this tight little ass of yours."

You swallow hard, trying not to dwell on those words for now—you can tell you've loosened up more, tolerating the jab of his fingers, but his cock is substantially larger than those, all too intimidating. Thankfully, it's not hard to remain distracted, to focus only on your approaching peak.

Dabi can feel that orgasm rip through you when it hits, your asshole clenching around his fingers as you keen, and it's then that he reaches the limits of his patience. He needs you now, needs the thrill of burying himself in your tight ass and claiming you for his own, of reaching his own release deep inside and then watching his seed spill out afterwards. What a satisfying sight that will be.

He scrambles up from between your legs to catch your lips with his, fumbling his boxers off as his tongue invades your mouth. When he pulls away, his eyes are bright, needy. "Ready for me?" he asks.

You're not, not really, but you can see the fervor in his eyes, hear the urgency in his voice, and you convince yourself that he won't be able to work you open much more with his fingers no matter what. Your agreement doesn't matter anyway—he's already rolling you onto your side and slotting his chest against your back, his straining erection poking at the cleft between your thighs.

"Like this?" you ask, surprised by the choice of position.

"Just like this," he pants in your ear. His teeth nibble at your lobe as he slicks his cock generously with lube. "Want you spooned against me so I can see those cute faces you make, feel you squirming when you take me."

And fuck, when he slips one hand back down to finger your asshole one last time, it doesn't disappoint—your body ripples against him when that invasion catches you off guard, and he can see the way your lips part obscenely as you gasp at his touch. His fingers abandon your tight hole almost as quickly as they'd entered, and then Dabi is aligning himself with your entrance, using the last of his restraint not to slam his hips forward and bury himself inside with a single thrust.

You can feel the spongy head of his glans, and the slick coolness of the ring that adorns his tip, prodding at your rear. One of his arms worms its way under your side, his hand groping distractedly at your breasts as you tense in anticipation.

"Relax, baby girl," he murmurs, but he doesn't wait for you to even try. He's already slipping in, moving slowly until he encounters resistance an inch or so inside, and then pausing.

He has to struggle to keep his composure. Even like this, with not even the full head of his cock in your ass, his balls are tightening, just the thought of what he's doing nearly enough to send him over the brink. He waits until he's sure that won't happen and then starts moving, pushing insistently to work you open around his length with shallow thrusts.

"A-ah, Dabi, g-go easy," you stutter, already squirming. You can feel your body resisting the intrusion, so much larger than his fingers, and it aches slightly every time he tries to breach that inner ring.

"I am, baby, don't worry. I'll take care of you." His cheek is nuzzling against yours, his lips kissing and sucking wherever he can reach, but his motions don't change at all even as he murmurs so sweetly. He only slings one arm over your hips, toying lazily at your clit. That attention helps you relax, helps distract you a little, but it's not enough to prepare you for when he drives himself in further, finally surging past that taut band of muscle.

The invasion brings a sharp pain, one that has you crying out. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your body reflexively contorting to try and escape the cause of that hurt, but his arms tighten around you, holding you in place as he continues to work himself deeper with every thrust.

"Dabi, that hurts." Your words are sharper this time as each stroke sends another unpleasant throb through your overstretched hole, but his only response is to plunge the fingers rubbing at your clit into your dripping cunt.

"Shh, you're doing great." He curls his fingers, stroking against that spongy spot deep inside. It makes you writhe, but that does nothing to address the pain between your legs as he fucks you.

"Dabi, don't, that's not helping, I—"

"It's okay, baby girl, you're taking me so well," Dabi coos. You'll adjust, he knows you will—you're usually up for anything, of course you can take this. And fuck, there's no way he can stop now, not when it's even better than he'd imagined—hotter and softer, your pillowy walls enveloping his length every time he plunges into you, the exquisite tightness of your entrance massaging his shaft with each thrust.

"I'm not— I don't— I don't want to do this anymore." You can hear the desperate edge in your voice now. Your heart is racing and there's a cold sweat forming on your skin as tears of pain and confusion start to leak down your cheeks. "Dabi, stop."

"Shh, shh, you're fine. You—fuck—you feel so amazing. 'S never been this good with anyone else, fuck."

"I don't care, I don't want this." You can't understand what's happening, why he's not listening. You twist your head to look at him, pleading with your eyes, but he's barely even focusing on you. His blue eyes are glazed and half-lidded as his lips wander over your shoulders and your neck, all the while murmuring those useless reassurances against your skin. You're thrashing now, your feet scrambling for purchase on the sheets as you try frantically to pull away, but he keeps his tight grip on you, one of his legs hooking around your own to hold you in place. "Dabi, I said stop!"

He shushes you again, rutting into you harshly, and a choked sob escapes you when he bottoms out inside you, his hips flush against your backside as you struggle against him. You feel sick to your stomach, and it only worsens when he pulls out until nothing but his tip remains, then drives himself back in with one agonizingly rough thrust.

You keep begging, pleading, wracking your brain and trying every past safe word you can recall, but he only continues to pound into you, his breathing erratic as he pants in your ear. "It's okay, baby. You're taking my cock like such a good girl. You're—ngh—making me feel so good."

The ache between your legs is diminishing slightly as you adjust to his girth, your body entirely unconcerned with whether you want that or not. He's still fingering your sopping cunt too, his palm grinding against your oversensitive clit with each plunge of his long digits, the lewd squelching sound of those attentions mingling with the sharp slap of his hips against your ass as he fucks you.

"You like this?" he asks, but you know he's not really asking. "You like knowing I'm the only one? That I'm making you mine, just mine, just like how it should be?"

"Dabi, stop. Please stop." Your appeals are feeble now, far more for yourself than for him as you continue to utter them between quiet sobs. Dabi's somewhere far away, awash in the tight heat of your ass and the satisfaction of finally staking his claim on you, aware of your supplications but not hearing them, not really.

You slump, still sobbing, and let him take what he wants. His attentions to your cunt have a coil tightening in your gut, but when your climax hits it's perfunctory and mechanical, no real pleasure to be found even as your hips jerk and your holes spasm, a joyless whine passing from your lips.

No real pleasure for you, at least. But fuck, the feel of you squeezing around his cock as you come is what Dabi has been waiting for, your insides massaging his length as though desperate for him to decorate your walls with his cum. It's a gift he's glad to grant—he rocks his hips more urgently, keeping his thrusts shallow now so that he's sure to get it all deep inside.

"Fuck," he groans against your neck. "Gonna make me come, baby girl. That what you want? Want me to fill you up?" You shake your head, but his movements are already growing spurtive and erratic, his grunts louder and throatier, and then you can feel his cock jerking inside you, a hot rush of cum flooding your guts.

Dabi doesn't stop then, either, keeps fucking his seed into you until he's softening, not quite able to work himself in and out of your tight, abused hole any longer, and only then does he finally pull out, a dribble of cum leaking obscenely down your thigh.

You're sniffling, drawing shaky breaths, and you try to pull away the moment his arms relax around you. They only tighten again, his lips planting soft kisses along your temple.

"Shh," he murmurs. The sound of his shushing makes you want to scream. One hand lifts to wipe at the tears on your cheeks. "You were so good, baby girl, there's no need to cry. You were fucking incredible." He means it too, doesn't think he's ever come so hard in his life as he did now, making you his.

Dabi can't wait to do it again.

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi #dabi smut #dabi fanfic #fanon dabi #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #bnha fanfic #bnha reader insert #reader insert #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: crying

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marvels-writings · 3 years

Text

Dreams

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

Requested by: hi! i love your imagines and i was wondering if you could do a natasha or carol imagine where the reader is their wife and is pregnant but hasn't told them yet, the rest of the team don't know about the reader so when the reader arrives at the tower the avengers attack her but because the reader was an agent as well she fought well and was winning when nat or carol come down and tell everyone to stop, the reader than asks if this is a good time to tell her that she is pregnant thanks! <3

Word Count: 1.5k (fluffy)

A/N: Y’all i finally got inspiration back, updates will still be a tiny bit slow, but I think you’ll like this fic

The test lay upside down on the sink, the timer on your phone next to it; ticking off every second that went by. You paced around the bathroom, from one side to the other. You bit your fingernails, an awful habit you meant to put a stop to. But found it hard to at this moment.

This was your third, no, the fourth try. Every failure brought you closer to giving up on this golden dream you'd crafted with Natasha. This idea that you might have children of your own to raise in a large house in the suburbs. To be domestic and at peace with your life.

That chance seemed further with every test.

You jumped as the timer buzzed loudly on the side of the sink. Hurriedly, you switched it off and turned the test over. Your eyes widened as you dropped the device on the ground. It clattered dully as a grin covered your face at the result.

Two lines.

You were pregnant.

Grinning, you grabbed the test to rush out to show it to your wife. You stopped quickly, remembering she was at the Avengers compound. Instead, you picked up your phone, texting her a picture of the test, and trying to call her. No answer.

She needed to know, even if that meant you had to go down to the compound yourself and tell her. You knew she was adamant about keeping you away from her work life, not wanting to involve you in a work that seemed to bring the horrors of her past with the threats of the future. You didn't blame her for wanting to keep you away, even though it was hard not meeting the people she risked her life for.

Debating it in your head, you eventually decided to go tell her. You quickly grabbed your coat, and at Natasha's common insistence, a knife in your jean waistband. The knife would probably be a bad idea in a few months, but you'd rather not be caught without it, for now at least.

Trying to call her one last time, you rushed into your car and began the drive there. The apartment wasn't too far from the compound, not too far from where you worked either. You'd wanted somewhere that both of you could go to work easily from, Natasha had wanted someplace where she could get to you faster.

It worked, but you needed to find a bigger house soon. Maybe somewhere near a lake, or some scenery, so you could go hiking or swimming with them. You could teach them how to swim for the first time, Natasha could teach them all the stars in the sky and the stories behind them.

So many dreams, you wanted them all now that you had the chance.

A bright grin was on your face the whole ride t the compound, barely fading as you walked into the compound. The receptionist greeted you with a supportive nod, knowing you were a SHIELD agent. You flashed them a bright smile as you made your way towards the living areas.

Surprise filled you when you didn't see anyone from the team around, walking through till the common room until you finally saw someone. He wore an army green t-shirt with jeans, casual as he walked around. You greeted him with a smile, about to move past him to find Natasha. He had other plans though, frowning before slamming his hand on the alarm beside him.

"Sam, right?" You asked, stepping back as the sound of the blaring alarms filled the air. He stepped away from you, taking a fighting stance, assuming you were a threat. You laughed at that, the mere idea you would come to attack the home of the country's heroes.

"How do you know my name?" He asked defensively as the other members of the team began to trail into the common room at the commotion. You groaned when you realized they all thought you were planning to hurt them.

Not given a chance to answer his question, you stepped aside to dodge a shield you already knew was coming your way. The move surprised them, Sam quickly moved forwards to attack you, kicking near your head. You batted his leg away from you, throwing him off balance before picking up the shield to throw it back at Steve.

Only half the team was here, Sam, Bucky, Steve, and Tony. All of them equally surprised and apprehensive of your arrival. None gave you the chance to talk as they began to attack, thinking you were hostile. Steve grabbed the shield again to throw it at you, surprised when you dodged it and kicked it towards Bucky.

Out of breath, you panted a little while you waited for them to catch their balance. All the while there was a small smile on your face, imagining their reaction once they found out who you are, especially why you're here. For now, you needed to focus on the suit Tony had summoned into the living room.

"I'm not who you think I am." You breathed, ducking a punch sam tried to send your way, throwing him off balance with a kick to his side. He flinched back, pausing at your words. The rest of them stopped with him, waiting for some answer.

"Who are you?" Steve asked, his shield set firmly in front of him. You opened your mouth to answer, closing it when you realized hardly any of them would believe you. Instead, you chose to show them the wedding ring on your finger. You were ready to provide an explanation when someone spoke from behind you.

"She's my wife."

A grin formed on your face as Natasha came to hug you from behind. You didn't need to turn around to know it was her, merely tilting your face so you could kiss her cheek. Her hand interlaced with yours, her wedding ring matching yours for proof you were sure they didn't need.

Her grip around you tightened as they lowered their guard, greeting you and apologizing for trying to fight you. Her hand was placed firmly on your back as you talked them, wanting to keep you for herself. It was a bit selfish of her not to introduce you to them, wishing to keep you away from this life as much as she could.

Now she could see it wasn't her decision as you proudly showed off your ring, laughing at the stories they told you. Your smile was so bright as you introduced yourself as her wife to everyone who came into the room. She nodded at the surprised glance they sent her, smiling along with you.

It was no secret to you that she had been scared to introduce you to them. Natasha knew that they could never scare you off, nor take you away from her. Not even the heavens could divide her from you. She feared that you might not want to be with her anymore. Maybe you might leave after seeing in person the kind of life she leads.

Now, she knew you won't.

Not when your hand squeezed hers tightly, not when you sent her smile after smile, joy clouding your eyes. Not when you eagerly told them stories about your relationship, proud to be hers. You couldn't leave her, not when you loved her the way you do.

"So why now?" Tony asked, curious as he chewed absently on a toothpick. You grinned brightly, turning to Natasha, hesitance clouding your features quickly. She gave you a supportive nod, hoping you would explain your unexpected, but welcome appearance.

"Is now a good time to tell you?" You asked, nodding towards your stomach, hoping she would get the idea. You knew she didn't by the way she tilted her head to the side curiously. Biting your lip tightly, you weren't sure if she would be okay with telling the rest of the team.

She's spent years hiding you, you didn't know if she wanted to hide the new arrival to your family.

Still biting your lip, you tugged her arm closer to you. Getting the hint, she leaned her ear closer to you so you could whisper. The entire team leaning closer, straining to hear the reasons you had to share.

"I'm pregnant," You whispered, her hand freezing in yours, her eyes widening as her she turned around to meet your eyes. Her eyes held so much doubt, looking up at you as if you held the world in your hands, ready to take it away at any second.

But you nodded, ready to give her the world she deserved.

She had never looked happier as she hugged you tightly, tears pooling in her eyes, her breath hitching as you laughed. Her dreams were so much closer, all because of you. Never had she even dared to think her dreams of a family might become true.

Now, as she told her chosen family excitedly about the expected new arrival, she wouldn't want anything else. She wouldn't need anything more than you by her side and the dreams you'd made together. The dream which would have remained hidden if it had not been for you.

A/N: Tell me what you think!! Comments, reblogs and ask are amazing!!

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