#saying very tender words but with a very angry tone and expression | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

asukaskerian · 4 months

Note

prompt 4 for moshang with the mood "incensed" would be hilarous i imagine

Mythology - Foretold by the gods - moshang

So he might have, maybe, at some point -- some late at night or maybe very early point -- tried to figure out an OC for Mobei-jun to ship w fuck. Dude was so perfect, it was a shame his dump truck ass and sequoia thighs remained unembraced. (Also the whole "he's so mysterious and never opens up and unveils his deep thoughts and tender feelings except for me" fantasy but never mind all that.)

He'd gone exactly as far as 'Meeting: why tf would he notice anyone. Dashing rescue? Why does he need a rescue he's too cool and basically untrappable anyway, what are they rescuing him from socializing with his cousins lmao???' on his notes before giving up on making it realistic. The next scribble was 'cuz i said so ok next'.

There had been no 'next'. His battery had died and when he managed to get home and get his laptop plugged in it was time for another word vomit on the topic of Bing-ge's meat truncheon.

[Secret side-quest: Easter egg! 1/536 discovered. Keep going!][Category: "is it a headcanon if you didn't think it up with your upper head?" 1/413]

'System-bro, what the entire fuck!?!' Airplane screeched inside his heart of hearts; ass on the floor (bruising), clothes askew (from sleeping in them!!), and the most gorgeous, terrifying man he'd ever seen staring down at him from the bed they'd crashed into (Mobei-jun first, because unconscious, Airplane later, because idiot) the previous night.

Because he had expected being sneered at; being talked down to; being attacked on sight. Being haughtily ignored, after sufficient groveling at crotch level.

But his most perfect, most unattainable creation, that Himalayan peak made flesh, saying that --

The problem with Airplane was, he didn't trust people. He didn't trust them to share their feelings and decisions with him freely instead of leaving him reeling at yet another swerve of which he was merely collateral damage. He didn't trust them not to lie to themselves, or even know they were lying to themselves, so even if they did tell him what they thought or felt he assumed they were doing the polite 'the real reason is none of your business but telling you to fuck off is rude' thing at best.

So yes, his favorite game from childhood had been to pick someone in the crowd and tell himself stories about their life. This guy is a grandfather of seven and doesn't know the birthday of a single grandkid and his eldest son just pointed it out to him, but not even angrily which is worse because that's how low the bar he failed to clear was, that's why the fancy package and the gloomy expression. That girl just broke up -- she's so angry though -- he was fucking her sister. No wait, her nails are short, it was a girlfriend for sure; she fucked her brother, a double betrayal. It had evolved into telling himself stories about his classmates and his half-siblings and his parents, since they were never ever gonna bother to invite him to take a real glimpse inside, anyway.

He was fully aware that statistically speaking he was probably wrong a lot of the time, but 1. coming up with coherent narratives was satisfying enough to smother the jealousy and loneliness and 2. as far as he was concerned it was true until proved otherwise, which was never.

But a guy who gave him nothing to work with. That was a challenge. That was fascinating.

....

But a guy who greeted him by "You are to be my husband?" with a tone of dismay?!

What the fuck! What the fuck!! What the flying dick-flapping fuck!!!

He was so shocked, he forgot to kowtow.

"You uh. My king?" He hadn't made the guy so above it all that he landed straight back into a a naive ingenue, right? "Just sleeping on the same mattress doesn't -- people don't have to be married to share--"

The muggy air of the inn room went so cold so fast that condensation rolled cold drops down his back.

(The effect didn't last; there was a haze in the air, briefly, and then a suffocating breeze from outside ruined the surprise air-con.)

"You will not speak to me like an idiot child," Mobei-jun-to-be rumbled threateningly, and then ruined the cool by continuing in that wtf vein. "My husband will show respect to his wife or his wife shall reign as a widow."

Holy shit, now Mobei-jun was the wife???!?!??? What? What! Airplane was dead. Again. For good.

He stayed down there sitting on his ass, waiting for the world to make sense. It didn't happen. The man of his masochistic dreams had crossed his arms over his massive bara titties like a barricade and was now sulking up there like an offended wi-- no, he couldn't even think it.

"My -- my king? It's only, ah, your humble servant doesn't... recall... getting married...?"

Eyes as blue as the afterimage of a lightning strike speared him through, metaphorically.

"Not yet. But we must."

He let out a long sigh; and his face didn't twitch when he moved to aggravate his wound, but the way he stilled for a breath was telling. Shang not-yet-Qinghua winced in reflexive sympathy.

"There is a prophecy."

"... Ah?" A prophecy. About his king. That he hadn't put into the story. That he hadn't even scribbled into the margins or thought about. 'System?!'

[Yes, valued User?]

"There is a prophecy for each generation, and most of them don't matter," the ice demon using that shitty inn bed as his throne said with a bitter tone. "But the eleventh ruler of the Northern Desert will be heralded by his foretold spouse; that is how he is confirmed."

"Ohh," Airplane said intelligently and with characteristic eloquence.

"'You will know them by these things," his king quoted sourly, "first, they will heal you; second, share your bed; third, offer their hand, and service, and their soul."

'Their soul! Their soul!! I was offering my sneakiness and maybe my dick, ah?! System!!! Who told you to mess up my creation with made-up prophecies?!'

[The easter egg category: "is it a headcanon if you didn't think it up with your upper head?" belongs to the third rung of canon : Word of God.]

But he hadn't told anyone--

But he'd written it down, he remembered now. 'Cuz i said so.'

Oh god. Oh immortals ascended before him. Oh little ancestors in both and either worlds. Someone fix this for him. "My king. Haha. My king, that is -- so vague! So vague?! How can there not be a dozen candidates with criteria so -- so stupid? And if the prophecy is common knowledge then people knew them in advance?! How were you not sabotaged right and left--"

...Oh no. He was gorgeous when he smirked like this, slow and feline, satisfied. My king, so unfair.

"This prince has long since made it a point not to sleep where others may catch him." A delicate pause. "He has also made it a point to return misplaced agents to his most obstinate siblings's chambers at a time his elders may not miss them."

"--Oh. Disqualifying them for trying to disqualify you -- so smart, my king!" For a moment, he had gotten enthused. But then he remembered that they were discussing his sudden non-canon matrimony, and then he started poking it for plot holes. "But -- just anybody can share your bed."

"The language is old, and clear. The prophecy speaks of the only person to ever share this king's bed."

... Hhghhhk.

That stare. So hard. Offended. Those cheekbones. So cutting. That nose, regal; that hair.

"My king," Airplane said as he climbed up to his feet, eyes trained on the floor and his knees and the things spread on the table and anything else at all. "Have you ever thought that the 'sharing a bed' section was metaphorical?"

He met the demon's eyes then, incredulous and angry, buoyant with it. "You haven't even shown me your dick and you think I should be making recompense?! What the fuck! Passing out on the same shitty mattress doesn't mean getting deflowered! I didn't knock you up with a snowball ass egg, why the fuck should I--"

Oh, he was tall. Also wide. Especially wide. Flatten me daddy indeed.

Oh, he was angry.

"It is not. Metaphorical. Though if all you need is to see my body--"

His hand landed on his belt. Shang eventually-Qinghua stopped breathing, body hot and bubbling with too much emotion--

It read like one of his waifu plots, the Joan of Arc types, unconquerable holy virgins except via the pressure of greater good.

A vague scrying over some random-ass kingdom, a little prophecy and welp! Nothing to it, just gotta fuck it out for the marital bed and then never again. At least you getting lawfully reamed has saved Bumfucknowhereistan.

'System. Demerit if I say hell no?'

[The bonus Mobei-jun questline remains optional, and brings User no penalties on opt-out.]

'Great.'

Like hell he was jumping into marriage because he liked some guy's face and didn't want to be bothered by geriatric busybodies tittering over his lack of wedlock. Who was he, his mother?

"I'll pass. Sorry, my king, at least I'm ditching you long before the altar?"

And with a sweep of his hand, he dumped all his things off the table and into his qiankun pouch, and was jumping out the window and doing a sick flip trick on his trusty borrowed blade. Airplane over and out, bro!

Thanks for nothing. Now his spank bank was forever tainted.

Three days later he was still dealing with bursts of anger and anguish and other moronic emotions, which didn't help navigating his miraculous return to the sect ("I was so scared!" lost its impact if he broke a sneery judgmental Shixiong's ankle with a well-placed kick) or the medical peak's nosiness ("Who cares about the bruises, my biggest injury is my blue balls and broken heart, thanks!") or Shen not-quite-Quingqiu's scalpel eyes.

His king's eyes were prettier.

His king was never going to be his king. Optional quest line. Yeah. He vaguely wondered how the System planned to make him betray the sect, then, who for, and then decided it wasn't his problem. Fuck it. He was sure it could do blackout poetry with his notes and pull out some contrived justification that would amount for half as much incentive as Mobei-jun's everything.

His fierce determination, his fearlessness, his skill, his -- his body.

His body that was extremely too visible on Shang in-his-soul-Qinghua's disciple bed, shoulders draped in furs and bountiful meaty muscle on full frontal display.

"I will not," he growled low and quiet, "be discarded by my spouse."

"Hhg."

He had snow leopard rosettes on his flanks in dusky blue, secret patterns never appeared in any cover art Airplane had commissioned.

[Secret side-quest: Easter egg! 2/536 discovered. Keep going!]

... Oh god, it turned out Shang Qinghua was exactly as stupid as Bing-ge's most ice-cold chaste wives. Because 'lie back and think of England?' Yeah, he was going to think of England and that dick.

#svsss #asuka writes #writing meme

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

Note

Hi baby! Congratulations on your amazing milestone! I’d like to order a margarita with Frank Castle and the song ‘cinnamon girl’ by Lana del Rey, specifically the quote: “there’s things I wanna say to you but I’ll just let you live, If you hold me without hurting me you’ll be the first who ever did”.

It’d be very self indulgent as I just got out of an extremely abusive relationship with my ex bf and i just moved to the other side of the country and I feel like frank would be so soft spoken and careful when holding me after everything I’ve been through 💗

my sweet angel,

firstly I want to say that I am so proud of you. it takes a lot of bravery and strength to do what you did, and I am so happy that you made it out of that situation. secondly, I want you to know there is nothing that you ever said or did that would warrant/excuse that kind of treatment. and finally, I want you to know that I feel very special that you trusted me with this. that means so much to me, and I hope I did you justice.

I didn't go too heavy into detail in terms of the bad things, and tried to keep it more light and fluffy for you.

please know this community is your safe space, and we are all behind you and rooting for you and supporting you. thank you again for trusting me, and I hope you enjoy my darling. huge fucking cheers to you. 🥂💗

blurb below the cut

cinnamon girl

if you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did

Frank Castle was a very large, intimidating man. He was tall, built like a brick wall, and it didn’t help that his features were always fixed in a broody and unapproachable expression. He could be violent and cold, speak with a wicked and harsh tongue, and tear through things in his path with his bare hands.

But he was always delicate with you. His eyes were softer, and seemed to lighten to a warmer shade of brown when he looked at you. His full lips parted into a smile when you were in his presence, and your favorite were his grins that split his mouth wide open to show off his dazzling teeth. The soft crinkles it created by his eyes and the way his eyes shrank from the rise of his cheeks past the bridge of his large nose made him look gentler, and younger even. His laughter was deep and melodic as it bellowed in his chest, echoing in your ears like a lullaby. His touch was exceptionally kind, and his tone was tender as the deep bass of his voice weaved around you like a warm blanket. He never moved too quickly into your space, and he continually asked for consent until he learned to read your nonverbal cues.

Frank made you feel safe. The safest you had ever felt. You knew that he would rather die a thousand times over than ever say an unkind word to you, or lay a hand on you in a way that was anything other than affectionate.

You knew that.

But the two of you were arguing over something trivial, and his voice had been steadily increasing in volume, and loud noises had always made you anxious, but loud and angry men always sent you into fight or flight. He wasn’t yelling, but his deep voice seemed to boom like resentful claps of thunder in the space of the living room. The amplification already had your hands trembling with subconscious fear, but it was when he threw his hands up in exasperation that you really started to spiral.

It was just a simple gesture. It wasn’t directed at you. He wasn’t even close enough to touch you, even if he stretched his arms out wide. But still, you flinched.

And suddenly it was silent.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heart pounding in your chest and your breaths struggling to escape out of your lungs. You hadn’t noticed your vision had gone black until you felt the strain behind your eyelids, opening your eyes slowly until a very horrified Frank came into view. He appeared to be frozen in place, his hands still raised in midair, and when he caught your gaze on them, he immediately dropped them and took a few steps backwards.

For what felt like an eternity, the two of you just stared at each other. The confusion and terror was evident on Frank’s face, and you couldn’t imagine what your own looked like. Your mind and heart were at war on the next move. Part of you wanted to run, but you couldn’t move your feet. The other part wanted to reach out for the safety net of Frank’s arms. It was getting increasingly harder for you to breathe as you felt the familiar onset of hyperventilation, and you instantly kicked into survivor mode, repeating a mantra that came second nature to you.

“I…I”m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t…mean to…I’m sorry. Please don’t…I’m sorry-”

“Hey…hey, you ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for. Didn’t do anythin’ wrong, sweetheart. Just breathe for me, can ya do that?”

The sting of tears warmed your lower lash line, and your face twisted up in regret and lingering fear as you stared over at Frank. The look on his face hurt worse than anything anyone else had ever done to you before.

“I’m so sorry-”

“Baby, please stop apologizin’. Please? Can I…alright if I come closer?”

Frank kept his tone gentle and his voice quiet as he looked at you in pity and concern. You quickly nodded your head as you clenched your fists tightly at your sides, reminding yourself that this was Frank. This was different. He wasn’t going to hurt you. He very slowly lifted his hands up in a sign of surrender, taking careful and languid steps towards you.

“Tell me what you need from me. What can I do to help, baby?”

“I…I don’t…I don’t know, I’m sorry-”

“Hey, s’alright. Can I touch you? That okay?”

Even though you nodded your head frantically, Frank still took his time approaching you, carefully wrapping his arms around you to pull you into the haven of his chest. You gripped onto his back, digging your nails into his skin through the material of his shirt as you cried into his chest. He pressed light kisses to the top of your head, rocking you gently in his arms and shushing you quietly.

When you finally calmed down, Frank delicately held your face in his large hand, staring down into your eyes with a storm of emotions swirling in his. He opened his mouth several times to speak, his dark brows furrowing as he struggled with where to start.

“You…don’t gotta tell me anythin’ you ain’t comfortable sharin’. But…I gotta…did you…did you really think I was gonna hit you?”

The hurt in Frank’s voice only lined your eyes with fresh tears as you gripped onto his arm tightly.

“No..no Frank, I-I just…we were arguing and…you started getting loud…and when you raised your hands-I know you wouldn’t. I know that. It just…”

Frank’s jaw clenched as he stared down at you, and his eyes darkened with unbridled rage.

“Made you think ‘bout someone that hurt you before.”

There was an edge to his voice, but it didn’t make you uncomfortable. You could tell by his features that he was absolutely pissed. There was a murderous fury burning in his eyes that would’ve sent a shiver down the spine of the person brave enough to meet his gaze, and his hands shook with pure contained wrath as he held you in his arms.

But you didn’t feel afraid. Because Frank’s anger wasn’t directed at you, it was for you.

It was such a strange and euphoric feeling, being in the presence of an angry man and not feeling fear. Knowing that those strong and capable hands of his would be used to defend you, not against you.

“It…it’s why I moved here. To get away.”

Frank squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling a sharp breath that he let out in a slow and frustrated exhale, grunting under his breath.

“Fuckin’ worthless piece of shit.”

“I…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, I just…it’s hard to talk about-”

“Hey, you ain’t gotta explain yourself to me, alright? You ain’t do nothin’ wrong. You weren’t ready to tell me, that’s all. I…I appreciate you tellin’ me now. I’m sorry I made you feel that way-”

“No, no Frank, please. You didn’t. It…it was just a reaction, okay? I know you would never hurt me. I swear.”

Frank stared down into your eyes, searching them for any sign that you weren’t telling the truth. He finally let out a soft sigh, tightening his protective hold on your waist.

“Don’t s’pose you’d give me an address of where I can find this sorry fucker?”

“Frank-”

“Ain’t gonna kill him. Just think he needs his ass beat, s’all.”

You tried to fight the smirk that tugged at your lips as you arched one of your brows and gave him a pointed look. He let out a heavy exhale as he looked away and cocked his head to the side.

“Alright, that was a lie. I would fuckin’ kill him. But the world ain’t gonna miss an asshole like that. Be doin’ it a favor.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, you brought your hands up to gently cup his face in your hands.

“I…appreciate that you would do that for me. But we’re better than that.”

“Well you may be, but I sure as hell ain’t.”

“Frank.”

“Fine. I’ll leave it alone, for now. But when you ask me what I want for my birthday or Christmas, don’t be surprised if this is my answer.”

Should you be concerned that your boyfriend threatened to kill your ex on your behalf? Yes. Were you? Absolutely not. Because it was Frank.

Your Frank.

And the safest place you could ever be was with him.

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle request #frank castle blurb #the punisher #the punisher request #the punisher blurb #court's 2k follower celebration #court's 2k friends celebration

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ladelinee · 2 months

Text

Authors note: Hi! I’m back! I fought against writer’s block. I took my time, and I bring you a longer piece! Thank you for your patience! 🤩 (again, sorry for any grammar mistakes)

Word count: 4,4K

Warnings: SMUT! +18 language, fluff.

All shook up

Part 5

Once I had removed with a damp towel the mascara marks that were left on my lower eyelid due to extreme closing of my eyes and sweat, I stared at the sink with a lost gaze.

What had just happened was simply inexplicable. The skin-to-skin sensation, his kisses, everything he did to me... I would never have imagined being half-naked in his bathroom.

But suddenly the shadows returned to my head, the fact of risking my job with this that could be temporary distressed me too much.

Without realizing it, a small ray of light emerged from the shadows and illuminated my ideas again. Elvis was running his kisses down my back.

“Take the day off, and stay right here here all day and night” he said with a tender smile.

My gaze wandered from the sink to the mirror, where I saw him rest his chin on my shoulder as he looked at me like a little child, never wanting the fun to end.

“You know I can't, they could see me,” I replied, looking into his eyes from the mirror and heading back to the room.

“Well, why don't we just sneak away? I could take ya to Graceland one of these days, and we wouldn't have a care in the world.” Elvis said as he watched me put my uniform shirt back on.

"Mmm sounds interesting," I said as I turned to look at him with a mischievous smile.

"Well, I have to go to the office to sort out some papers before they wonder where I have been."

"Ohhh... can't those papers wait?" he said, playing while he removed the hair that rested on my cheeks.

"Well... but only for a little while," I smiled as he blushed at me, still finishing buttoning my shirt.

"So just for a lil’ while, huh?" Elvis answered as his thumb caressed my lower lip, and then leaned in and kissed me.

We started hearing background noise and suddenly Joe and Red appeared in the room.

We had a shock, Elvis fixed them with a murderous look while I tried to cover my shirt which was still open.

Red was a little more shocked than Joe to see the scene.

“Elvis, for fucks sake!” Joe said panting.

Red, however, looked at me, and then at Elvis with a frown without saying a word.

"Goddammit! Don't ya guys know how to knock??" Elvis answered, surprised and angry, more from the scare than from them having entered.

Joe and Red shrugged as if it were a regular occurrence.

"I-I'm sorry boss, we thought you weren't here," Red said, seeming like he was the one who had been caught by surprise.

"We saw the housekeeping ladies cleaning the suite and we assumed you weren't here. Where were you? Man, you're going to give me a heart attack. This is the second time I've lost track of you," Joe said in a worried tone.

"And it seems to be for the same reason..." Red muttered, smirking as he looked at me. He was starting to understand what was happening.

"I, uh... well, we've been playing hide and seek, guys," Elvis said in a relaxed tone among colleagues. It was clear that he was starting to joke to lighten the issue.

As Joe and Red looked at me, I waved at them.

"Hide and seek? Hahaha, seriously, man?" Joe said between laughs. It seemed like it wasn't the first time that Elvis made up an excuse to hide the fact that he had had sex.

"I’m real serious!" Elvis said as he laughed.

"And was she good at playing hide-and-seek? Has she been able to find your hidden treasure?" Joe asked. Red closed his eyes tightly, focusing on not laughing, and covered his mouth to suppress his laughter. Unable to contain himself, he started laughing. Red knew that depending on the day, Elvis could either take jokes very well or react badly.

I gave a light smirk as I watched them enjoying themselves and joking with each other, but at the same time, I felt uncomfortable. Elvis noticed my expression.

"Honey, don't ya worry. Them fellas are my loyal crew. They ain’t spillin’ a single word." Elvis said as he put his arm around my shoulders.

"Otherwise, he will fire us like dogs," Red added.

"You betcha," Elvis responded, laughing at Red's words as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

“By the way, E, Sinatra hasn’t confirmed for tomorrow night’s party yet,” Joe said, changing the subject. At that moment, my face turned pale.

“The party! Oh my god, I need to leave now,” I exclaimed, putting into words what was screaming in my head. Elvis was surprised by my sudden change. “Baby, you okay?” he asked, watching me as I rushed to grab my shoes.

“Yeah… uh, sorry, we had a staff meeting to organize the party and I completely forgot about it! I’m late for that meeting,” I confessed, breathing heavily from the haste of my movements. Joe and Red continued conversing, but my nerves were so heightened that I couldn’t focus on their words.

Once I reach the door to leave, Elvis interrupts my exit by standing between me and the door.

"Hold on now, you reckon you can just up and leave like that?" He said with a serious tone.

"Elvis, I..." I responded.

“Like that, without kissin’ me? This country ain’t tax-free, miss,” Elvis teased, curling his lip into a smile as he enveloped me in his arms. I sighed in relief, smiling, and kissed his juicy lips, feeling myself blush again.

Joe and Red looked at each other with a knowing look.

"Take care, lil’one. See ya later," Elvis whispered after our kiss.

————————

As I entered the meeting room in haste, the atmosphere immediately shifted. All eyes turned towards me, and I felt the weight of their gaze as if it were physically pressing down on me. The chairs in the room were arranged in a circle, which heightened the sense of scrutiny.

I noticed disapproving expressions, including frowns and raised eyebrows, as people observed my slightly more untidy appearance than usual.

Seated in the middle of the circle I found Angelica. Her lips curled into a smug smile as she watched me, clearly enjoying my lateness and untidiness.

"Miss Y/ln, you're late!" Mark, my boss, exclaimed. He was standing, explaining the planning.

"Sorry, there was a lot of work," I replied, scanning the room for a free chair. At the end of the room, I could spot Alex waving his arm, indicating the free space he had reserved for me.

The tension in the room was palpable, almost suffocating, as I made my way to my seat. Whispers and murmurs followed me, cutting through the silence like knives.

"Girl, what happened? You got me a bit worried " Alex whispered as I settled into the seat next to him. I could still feel the walls of my vagina sore as I adjusted.

"I'm sorry, I forgot about the meeting," I replied, still trying to catch my breath.

"Well, Mr. Presley's party is going to be a VIP event. That means we need our best employees. Nothing can go wrong, so all the section leaders are going to be serving at that party. Angelica, you will be in charge of receiving the guests. Y/n will be in charge of refilling and offering champagne. Who wants to be in charge of the catering?" Mark explained in the background.

"So, tell me! What's wrong with those raccoon eyes? Has he made you cry? No, that can't be it... you came here too happy, forgot about the meeting, and appeared messier than usual..."

I couldn't help but laugh at his blunt conclusion.

"You've probably already guessed it," I answered with a wink.

Alex's eyes widened in mock surprise and said “Oh my god! Tell me the juicy details later. Right now, let’s concentrate on not getting skewered by Angelica’s murderous gaze.”

I checked out Angelica, sitting across the circle, looking way too pleased with herself.

"Ugh, speaking of the devil. It's like she's enjoying my misery as if it's her own personal victory" I grumbled.

"Don't stress, I got your back. Get ready for the passive-aggressive comments and eye rolls," Alex chimed in, ready to be my office drama bodyguard.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his determination to keep me safe from workplace shenanigans.

As I grabbed my stuff at the end of the meeting, getting ready to make a quick exit, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Angelica's smug face, holding my jacket.

"Looks like you left something, darling," she said, her tone dripping with condescension.

"Oh, thanks, Angelica. Must've left it in Mr. Presley's suite," I replied, trying to keep it cool, but her intense stare made it tough to keep my cool. Taking the jacket from her hand, I couldn't help but feel ticked off at her gloating.

"You know, not every day someone leaves their stuff in Mr. Presley’s suite. Quite an achievement, huh?" she remarked, her words dripping with sarcasm. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her thinly veiled digs.

"Yeah, well, I guess I'm just lucky to be hired to specifically serve him " I replied with a forced smile, hoping to end the conversation asap. But Angelica seemed determined to drag out my discomfort.

"Well, don't let it get to your head. We wouldn't want Mr. Presley thinking you're more than just an employee," she quipped as she sauntered away, her laughter echoing in my ears, leaving me simmering with frustration. I couldn't wait to put this encounter behind me and finally leave the room.

————-

The party exuded elegance, with music filling the air. I hustled to refill champagne glasses as guests streamed in, eager to enjoy the night.

Despite the crowd, I still hadn't spotted Elvis among the guests. Suddenly, familiar faces caught my eye. Turning my head, I saw Colonel Parker, his imposing presence accentuated by his trademark hat. His gaze met mine briefly as he took a puff of his cigar.

Amidst the attendees, I recognized some of Elvis's MM, chatting animatedly in a corner. The atmosphere buzzed with energy and excitement, and I struggled to keep my cool.

Suddenly, the crowd parted, applause rippled through the guests, and there he was, Elvis, encircled by friends attempting to greet him. He moved gracefully through the crowd, flashing a charming smile and relishing the attention.

"That's the guy who wrecked my friend’s private parts. Y/n, keep sticking to your high standards, you'll end up in a wheelchair," Alex remarked, catching me off guard. He stood beside me, gathering empty glasses to wash, a task I hadn't

even noticed him doing amidst my nerves.

“You’re quite the loudmouth!” I chuckled, then found myself falling under Elvis’s spell once again from across the room. The way he talked, the way he moved—his charisma just made me like him even more.

I’ve never seen Elvis Presley look as sharp as he does tonight. He had this magnetic presence, and his outfit was effortlessly stylish. Rocking a fitted black jacket that showed off his shape, paired with a crisp white shirt that made his tan pop, Elvis exuded an aura of sophistication.

The black pants he wore fit perfectly, but what truly caught my eye was his belt and golden necklace, adorned with inlaid precious stones that sparkled with every movement.

His dark gold glasses added a hint of mystery to his piercing gaze, sending shivers down my spine.

After a while, I noticed Elvis's eyes land on me. A flutter stirred in my stomach as I locked eyes with him, and for a moment, it felt as though time stood still as we gazed at each other amidst the lively atmosphere of the party.

Joe Esposito was the first to come over, his big frame easily seen among the crowd. With a knowing grin, he walked up and grabbed a glass of champagne, giving me a wink.

Then Red, Sonny, and Jerry followed suit, each getting a drink and joking around, their tall bodies blocking my view. The bunch of familiar faces left me feeling a bit lost, unsure who would come next. Their laughter and friendly chatter filled the room.

But then, the next one to arrive was unmistakable: Elvis. I was shocked to see him making his way through the crowd toward me, his piercing stare beneath his glasses locked onto mine. Despite the crowd around us, it felt like it was just him and me in that moment. My heart started racing as I wondered what he would say and how I would respond.

"How's your evenin' been, darlin'? Ain't seen hide nor hair of ya since yesterday." he inquired with a warm smile, though his voice held a hint of intimacy that only I could pick up on.

"Pretty good, thank you, Mr. Presley. Been tied up with party prep with the crew," I answered politely, brushing off the subtle spark I felt passing between us.

"Hey, why ain’t ya drinking?" Elvis questioned, sounding like one of my best friends.

"Mr. Presley, I'm not supposed to drink while on duty," I answered with a gentle smile.

"I'll take care of it!... MARK!" Elvis called out to my boss, who happened to be in the room. It was clear that the head of International had to attend VIP events like this.

My eyes widened in surprise, and I quickly shushed Elvis, feeling embarrassed by his public call to my boss. However, he ignored my gesture and continued calling out to Mark.

With a gesture, Elvis passed me a glass of champagne, casting a glance at my boss that seemed to ask, "Is it alright?" My boss sighed and nodded with a forced smile. He understood the golden rule: the customer, especially Elvis, must always be satisfied.

Turning back to me with a broad grin, Elvis declared, "All sorted! Cheers, darlin’!" as he handed me the champagne flute.

Elvis moved in closer, grabbed another glass of champagne, subtly raised it in a toast to me, and took a sip. Leaning in slightly, he whispered in my ear with a suggestive tone, "If we weren't in public, I'd fuck ya in front of a mirror so you could see how stunning you are, especially when ya open your legs f’me."

My heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, causing me to hold the champagne in my mouth momentarily before swallowing it slowly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Presley, but we have to maintain professionalism here," I responded, though my voice trembled slightly.

He nodded in understanding, but his intense gaze betrayed his true intentions. "Of course, darlin’. But it just don’t sit right with me seein’ you servin’ drinks instead of bein’ right here by my side. And I can’t help but notice that little smile sneakin’ ’round the corners of your mouth." he murmured, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I attempted to maintain a neutral expression as I subtly edged away, but Elvis had already ensnared my attention. Glancing around, I noticed Angelica observing us. With a sense of urgency, I sought to bring the conversation to a close before it veered into dangerous territory. "Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Presley."

He gave a nod with a charming smile, then melted into the crowd, leaving my heart racing and my mind in a whirl.

The night dragged on, feeling like an eternity. Whenever Elvis swung by for champagne, he made sure I joined in. His presence injected excitement into the party, and every chat with him added a bit of spice to the evening’s hustle and bustle. As time passed, I found myself growing less shy, enjoying the company of both the guests and Elvis more, and feeling a little more fired up with each passing moment.

When Elvis returned, his presence exuded a magnetic aura that drew all eyes to him. He gracefully took a glass, his eyes gleaming with a playful spark that brought a smile to my lips. Pausing for a moment, I locked eyes with him as he lifted his sunglasses slightly. His grin widened, showcasing his irresistible charm.

"You are the most attractive man I have ever seen. You have to stop being so fucking attractive," I stated with a confidence that caught me off guard, unconcerned about who else might overhear.

Elvis was stunned for a moment, scanning his surroundings before bursting into laughter. “Ya feelin’ alright?” he asked between laughs, his voice filled with warmth and amusement.

Feeling a bit dizzy, but reassured by his playful expression, I nodded. Before the other guests could notice anything, Elvis shifted his tone, his gaze now full of complicity.

“You’ve had enough, darling. C’mere with me, lil’ one. You need a break,” he suggested, offering me his arm with a charming smile.

Alex, returning with fresh glasses, witnessed the scene from a distance. He quickly diverted my boss’s attention to prevent him from noticing. Meanwhile, Angelica observed everything with disbelief, unable to trust her own eyes.

Elvis graciously led me to an adjacent private room, away from the hustle and bustle of the main party. Only the faint background music from the party could be heard in the room. A sturdy, round wooden table occupied the center, surrounded by luxurious velvet-upholstered chairs. In the center of the table, a poker board gleamed under the dim light of the lamps.

As he settled me into one of the chairs, Elvis looked at me with concern, snapping his fingers in front of my eyes. “Hey, I gotcha. Don’t ya worry, honey. Let me get ya some water,” he said in a soft voice, his dark eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and concern.

Feeling slightly dizzy from the alcohol, I leaned against the back of the chair and gave him a mischievous look. “I’m perfectly fine… for us to make love,” I murmured, my voice dripping with mischief.

Elvis smiled, but before he could respond, I rushed towards him, giving him a passionate kiss that left both of us breathless. However, when I attempted to escalate things further, Elvis gently stopped me, easing himself away from me.

“Darlin’, I reckon it’d be best for ya to just lay on down and take it easy before ya go doin’ anythin,” he said in a sympathetic tone. "Sugar, just hang tight in the suit . I'll come join ya later on." he added with a reassuring smile.

"If you still ain't feelin' right later on, we don't gotta go doing nothin', darlin'. Tonight, I'll be right here takin' care of ya.” he promised, his voice brimming with tenderness and genuine concern.

I nodded, feeling both disappointed and grateful, seeing the sense in what he said. But as I tried to stand up from the chair, my legs decided to go on strike, and I ended up tumbling to the floor.

Just then, the door swung open, and the Colonel swaggered in, followed by more folks from the party. “Poker to cap off the night! Elvis, you’ve got great taste,” the Colonel cheered with a grin, totally clueless about the chaos unfolding under the table.

With the Colonel's entrance, the vibe in the room took a sharp turn. More guests flooded in, bringing with them laughter and lively chatter. Elvis, despite his attempts to stay cool, couldn't hide his nerves, his restless gaze betraying his anxiety.

As the crowd grew, I figured it was best to lay low and hide under the table to avoid drawing attention. From my hiding spot I watched nervously as Elvis, with slick moves, positioned himself to cover me up and keep me out of sight.

Elvis adopted a relaxed posture, interacting with the guests as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. His smile appeared genuine, but I could detect a hint of tension in his voice as he talked with the guests. Meanwhile, I remained still under the table, holding my breath.

As the poker game progressed, the atmosphere was filled with excitement, although I found it extremely boring waiting down there. Repositioning himself in the chair, Elvis made sure that no one could see beyond his waist, spreading his legs in the process. Suddenly, his crotch was exposed in front of me. Although under other circumstances I would have held back, the alcohol encouraged me to be a little more daring that night.

I started gently massaging Elvis's legs, tracing soft lines with my fingers that slowly moved towards his crotch. When my hand made contact with that sensitive area, Elvis reacted with a slight jump, instinctively trying to close his legs. However, I decided to defy his attempt to stop and parted them again, observing as his breathing became more labored in response to my advances.

My lips approached the bulge that was starting to form under his pants, letting out my warm breath that filtered through the fabric. Meanwhile, Elvis cleared his throat, while he tried to focus his attention on whoever was shuffling the cards.

Elvis's bulge appeared to swell, pressing against the zipper with an evident urgency, as if seeking release. Curious to explore further, I confidently unbuttoned his pants, only to discover he wasn't wearing underwear. My surprise mingled with excitement as I gently released his length, feeling his response to my touch with each movement.

I firmly wrapped my fingers and palm around the length of his cock, gently sliding it up and down, observing as his skin stretched to reveal the delicate pink of his tip. Meanwhile, Elvis anxiously bit his lip and drummed his fingers on the table, awaiting the dealing of the cards.

Noticing Elvis's demeanor, Joe chimed in with a proposal brimming with goodwill.

“Hey Elvis, need a cigarette? I’ll grab one for you,” he offered, aiming to calm his nerves amid the laughter attempting to diffuse the tense poker atmosphere.

Elvis nodded silently, unable to articulate any words due to the mixture of sensations that surrounded him at that moment.

My movements became firmer, applying gentle pressure to his cock and observing his response to the stimulation. Small drops of precum emerged, which I delicately spread over the tip using my index finger. Wanting to enhance lubrication, I spitted out a small amount of saliva, which glided smoothly over his skin, allowing for more fluid movements as I explored new sensations with him.

With a trembling hand, Elvis lifted the two cards lying face down on the table. As Joe approached with the cigarette in hand, Elvis halted his advance.

"No, no, stay there. Don’t want nobody peekin’ at my cards, ya hear?” he requested firmly, making sure to keep my presence under the table a secret. He extended his hands toward Joe, motioning for him to throw the cigarette at him.

After receiving the cigar, Elvis lit it with an agile and expert movement, allowing the smoke to slide slowly between his lips while he let out a soft roar, as if this exhalation of air carried with it some of the tension and pleasure accumulated inside him. The gesture was barely perceptible, but it resonated in the atmosphere charged with anticipation, like an echo of the internal battle raging in his mind as he prepared to face what would come next.

And the expected first contact arrived. Gently, my tongue traced an upward path from the base to the tip of his cock, exploring his smooth skin and the swollen veins that marked the contour.

As I reached the tip, my tongue started circling it, exploring every inch. The slightly salty taste mixed with the musky aroma from his skin made me even more drawn to him.

As I continued, my hands slid to his balls, adding another layer of delight. Elvis closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose beneath his sunglasses, looking fatigued to onlookers but secretly enjoying the slow and pleasurable sensation I was providing him.

I could feel the movement of his penis against my lips, giving small spasms, and his legs trembling. Elvis was silent; when he wasn't taking a drag from the cigarette, he was biting his knuckles.

I continued the sweet torture for a few minutes, while Elvis began to fidget in his seat. Seizing the opportunity during a fake coughing fit, he grabbed my hair and pushed his cock into my mouth. The corners of my lips stretched, stinging slightly at the sudden invasion of his girth.

Feeling his cock reach the back of my throat triggered a discomfort that I struggled to hide. The noise of Elvis’s strategically executed coughing provided the perfect cover to mask the sound of my mild nausea.

My chin brushed against his balls, and my nose was buried in his perfectly trimmed pubic hair as I started a slow rocking motion, gently sliding in and out. With each movement, strings of saliva trailed from my mouth, further lubricating his skin.

The realization that I was pushing Elvis to the edge with my skills filled me with pride and excitement. A warm tingle spread through my crotch, causing my nipples to harden, and I couldn’t help but rub my thighs together.

As my rocking gained a steady rhythm, I felt Elvis's gentle thrusts into my mouth, indicating his growing arousal. His hand descended again to take control of my hair, imposing an increasingly faster rhythm to our movements. I could feel his cock tighten, announcing his impending climax.

“Well, Elvis, what’s your move?” the Colonel’s voice inquired from the background, putting pressure on Elvis with his bet.

“I’m going all-in,” Elvis answered with a confident smile.

Guiding himself, he intensified the pace, pushing his cock deeper into my throat. Tears began to flow from my eyes at the reflection of feeling his penis jerking deep in my throat. I closed my eyes tightly, surrendering completely to the moment. My mouth filled with his fluids, and with an instinctive gesture, I swallowed his nectar, leaving a salty taste with a sweet aftertaste on my palate.

“Dammit," exclaimed the Colonel amid laughter and moans from those present, while he recognized Elvis's masterstroke. "He had it all figured out! My boy hit me with a royal flush!"

Elvis let out a sigh that echoed throughout the room, an exhalation filled with relief, release and satisfaction, followed by a laugh that reflected his mastery of the game and the art of maintaining an impassive expression.

He sure knows how to keep a good poker face.

Need to recap? Part 4 here

Part 6

Tags: @msamarican ❤️

#elvisaaronpresley #elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis the king #elvis history #70s elvis #50s elvis #60s elvis #elvis the pelvis #elvis fanfic #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis x reader #las vegas nevada #elvis smut #smut #fanfic

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brightburner · 2 years

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Oh look I’ve started another wip for SHOH without finishing any of my other ones djsjxjsjs— the lead up to this is a sweet scene with MC and ex-sweetheart Red. They share a little moment and he kissed her forehead, very familial and stuff and unfortunately Chase was on his way to visit her and saw ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (what can I say? I love jealous Chase)

Snippet below!

—-

“Had a productive evening?” Chase asked, his voice low but the usual warm seductive tone nowhere to be found.

His usual half-lidded and languid look was ruined otherwise by the intense sharpness in his expression. That tension holding together what was meant to be a carefree and calm demeanor as he lounged on the edge of her windowsill.

He was trying to slow his breathing– trying and failing. Each attempt at an even breath hitched faintly in his chest and she had a sudden thought that if she were to touch his skin she’d feel his pulse hammering beneath the surface.

“How long have you been waiting?”

A twitch. A furrow in his brow. A crack in the mask.

She had her answer.

“Ask me again then.”

Chase’s breathing stopped.

“Go on. Ask.”

The taunt in her voice was enough to make him breathe out again, sharp and incredulous– indignant. He was angry. Good. She was getting angry too. Of course he wouldn’t ask. Of course he wouldn’t. He had asked twice before and she had answered and some part of Chase, despite how he was acting now, knew that. So then why?

“There is nothing going on between me and Red,” she answers the unasked question instead, “Nothing like that.”

“Uh huh, and would that be a full of shit statement?” Chase bit back, his eyes darted from her face in either an attempt not to see a lie there or worse– the truth.

Why?

“I love him,” she said simply and tried to ignore the way her heart ached when Chase flinched like she had stabbed him. He looked at her then, eyes owlish and his practiced expression half teetered on the edge of an agony she wasn’t even sure he knew he felt.

“The way I love the memory of my family. Of a childhood I barely… he’s my brother. I do love him, but it’s different then–”

Then what I feel for you.

The words go unsaid. Too tender, too near to the bigger feeling that has begun to swell within her chest. She feels helpless. Even now it would seem her words wield the strength to destroy and so she holds them back and watches as Chase scours her face for a lie.

#shepherds of haven #shoh #shoh fanfic #chase trinaeste #chase x Mc #Chase x f!mc #oc; achillea shrike #fanfic

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kiatheinsomniac · 2 years

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KINKTOBER 2022

✩*⢄⢁✧day seventeen: knife play - Fëanor

tag: #Tyelpëlos Kinktober Event

word count: 3.6k

warnings: smut, NSFW content, MDNI, knife play, slight blood play, object insertion

The fire of the forge licked at your face while another fire kindled deep in your abdomen as you watched your husband’s back. You were perched on the workbench behind him, simply observing him as he worked after having wanted his company, even while he was still occupied with work. You couldn’t help but adore whatever material his shirt was made of: so thin, almost sheer, sticking to his skin in places with a light sweat and hugging the muscles across his perfect skin.

Fëanor was an ellon unlike any other in mind, skill and appearance. He was built like one of the great two trees, towering above those around him and standing with the pride of knowing how admired he is.

“Yes, it’s quite lovely, darling.” You replied when he turned to begin showing off to you what he had made, some sort of blade but you weren’t paying attention to that: your eyes were fixed on the way his hand curled around the handle, how his fingers glided so carefully across the sharpened edge. His hands were strong, accented by gentle callouses from all his time in the forges – a mighty hard thing to achieve for an elf – and he typically wore rings in the day but he had removed them for the purpose of not damaging them as he worked.

“Is that really all you have to say?” The change in his tone dragged your lusty attention away from his body at last to meet eyes of flint, so ready to spark a fire, his jaw set tight in anger. “Have you even been listening?”

“Of course I-”

“Don’t lie to me.” Whatever you had tuned out in favour of taking in his physical form for must have been quite important to provoke such a reaction from him. Your husband was an angry ellon by nature, this much you knew, but many underestimated the capacity of said anger and he was actually very good at concealing his feelings, especially regarding minor affairs. “Your eyes don’t seem to be meeting what I show you. Perhaps you need a closer look?” His voice took a darker turn and you soon found yourself unable to get down from the workbench you were perched on when your husband came to stand between your legs.

Your breath hitched when he leaned down over you and pressed the tip of the blade to your cheek, gently grazing it across your nose as though this were merely a tender caress while paying attention to not break your delicate skin. “How’s this? Do you see better now, melda?” His tone had a base of mockery to it and you would have nodded your head if not for the fear of accidentally earning a cut.

“Your craftsmanship truly is unmatched, my love.” You replied, “I know of none other who could put such intricate detailing into the negative space of a blade.” You commented, a part of you hoping to satisfy his mood and another hoping to stir something else in him with the way you slowly spread your thighs apart further.

“Oh, so you like this?” A part of you knew he was no longer talking about the blade in his hand. The knife came to dance against your throat as he leaned down over you more, daring you to lay down and submit or to stay upright and see how long you could hold out for before you caved in. Very carefully, you nodded your reply, eyes darting between his to try and anticipate what he might do next. “Well, I think that you should try and better express your appreciation, don’t you agree?” He mused. Once more you nodded and longed to lean forwards and close the distance between you two but the knife at your throat was as controlling as the familiar hand in your hair when he would kiss you: making all the decisions for you in just the way you craved, holding you still and controlling your kisses, your movements, everything. “Awe,” He cooed mockingly, “do you want me to kiss you?”

“Yes please.” Your voice came out quietly, eyes already darkened with lust and so beautiful to your husband with the light of the forge behind him reflected in them.

“Say it again.” He leaned in closer, breath fanning over your lips but his mouth just out of reach.

“Please? Please can you kiss me?” That made him smile – or perhaps he smirked? – before closing that last slither of distance between you, his other hand coming up to grab the nape of your neck and hold you still as your lips collided, the blade at your throat pressing down just slightly. His hand was there to steady you, the warm metal to remind you of the situation you were in. Once he was certain you would keep the threat of his new knife in mind, his other hand rested on your shoulder for a moment before sliding down your front, pausing to cup your breast, making him groan against your mouth while you breathed out airily at the feeling.

You carefully leaned up to cup his face in your hands, fingers dipping into his dark hairline where his ponytail was coming loose and some strands were slack enough for you to slip your fingers into that midnight silk and lightly tug. His hand slid further down to trace the curve of your waist before landing on your hip and squeezing firmly, beginning to caress the softness of your thighs with the fabric of your dress between your skin and his touch.

After he seemed to grow frustrated with being unable to feel your skin beneath his fingers, he pulled away from what had been such a messy and passionate kiss, the tip of the knife coming up to tap twice against your kiss-swollen lips, just daring you to pout at him having pulled away from you.

“Are you so desperate for my touch that you’d let me hold a knife to your pretty throat if it means being kissed by me?” The blade was still against your lips, rendering you unable to nod or reply. You simply gazed into his eyes, trying to pour your emotions out through them so that he could see that you had not meant to offend him, only that you had been so caught up in admiring him. “Such a needy little thing… You’d let me do whatever I like to you, wouldn’t you? You don’t care about the threat…” His last phrase was emphasised by a sting against your bottom lip, the knife being removed so that he could kiss you once more, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and soothing it with a lick before he pulled away. You could taste your blood and see it tinting your husband’s lips as his eyes raked down your body.

You gasped when he roughly bunched the shoulder of your dress in his hand and pulled it towards him moment before sinking the blade into your neckline and dragging it downwards with a loud tear. Your dress fell to shreds around you as he sliced through your sleeves, tearing all the way through your skirt and leaving you in just your panties, sitting in the middle of what had once been your dress. You knew that it could be replaced though and knew that he was well aware that this was not one of your favourites. Your husband spoiled you and you knew that he would insist on replacing the dress himself.

Your thighs felt stiffened while your back arched up when Fëanor tapped the blade against your clothed clit, such a dangerous object against such a sensitive area and it had your heart hammering in your chest. With lidded eyes, he watched as he slowly raised the blade upwards to carefully prod at your nipples, watching as they hardened with arousal. With a groan, he set the knife aside to help lay you down as his lips came to your chest, kissing across the tops of your breasts, sucking marks beneath them and revelling in all your little gasps and moans, how your legs had come up to circle around his waist, begging for him closer. He knew just how badly you wanted to be stretched around his thick cock but seeing you get turned on by the threat of a knife in his hand, a knife he had created, had piqued his interest and now he was more than willing to be patient.

He gave your breasts equal attention with his mouth but the knife had yet to leave his hand, meaning that one of your breasts was always abandoned for attention as his free hand was being used to keep him propped up over you. You had tried to reach your hand up to stimulate yourself, only to have it swatted away by your lover, earning a whine from you and yet you made no other protest. Fëanor kissed his way down to your belly before standing up to tower over you, looking at your hair splayed about you on the workbench, your ruined dress, your hardened nipples, slick with his saliva and the way your back was arched to accentuate how your breasts were rising and falling with each panted breath.

The knife dipped into the front of your panties and he pulled upwards, making a slight tear before repeating that process again and again, slowly, his eyes meeting yours as you froze, afraid of having such a sharp blade near somewhere so intimate. Eventually, they were cut from your legs and you watched with bated breath as the fingers of his free hand slid through your slit, pushing your wetness upwards to smear it over your clit and begin tracing precise circles, adoring all the little moans it pulled from you, watching how you would squirm.

“You’ll have to stay still.” Your eyes opened to meet his at his words and you watched as the knife was twirled in his hand so that the blade now faced towards his body instead of your own. Your squirming did, indeed, stop entirely when the hilt of the knife ran through your wet folds and prodded at your entrance.

“F-Fëanor…?” Your voice wavered and he merely shushed you, his fingers leaving your clit so that he could spread your legs wider, pressing your thigh down against the workbench as you hesitantly raised your head to look down at the knife pressing against your cunt.

“Don’t squirm too much and this will feel no different to my fingers, melda, I’m sure.” There was a sadistic tone to his voice and a part of you wondered if you could come from having the handle of a knife inside of you; would the fear make such a thing impossible or would it only cause an early end? You couldn’t help but let out a loud gasp when he finally pushed inside of your waiting walls, your arousal more than enough to allow it to slip inside. Your legs jerked slightly and your husband merely tutted as he kept them spread apart enough with his hand so that you didn’t try to close your legs and cut your thighs in the process. “Stay still, little girl.” You could hardly pry your eyes away from watching as he sank the blade’s handle deeper into your pussy. The blade glinted in the light of the forge and you bit down on your lip to stifle a moan. Soon enough, you found your pleasure outweighing your fear as Fëanor picked up the pace, the crackling of the nearby fire being joined by the squelching sounds of you being fucked with a knife’s handle. Your husband could feel the increased resistance as the walls of your little cunt tightened around the weapon and his other hand finally, finally came up to caress your clit, making you come all over the warm metal.

He helped to ride you through your orgasm before withdrawing the blade, gently dragging it up your sternum and holding the slippery handle with both hands as he poised the blade over your heart, leaving enough room for your panting breaths. Your mind was torn away from its post-orgasmic haze at the sight. Your mind knew that you shouldn’t ever allow someone to put you in such a vulnerable position and yet your heart trusted him entirely. Fëanor only groaned at how you made no move to stop him, how you trusted him with your life to put you in such a vulnerable and submissive position.

“Oh, my love, I have a long night planned for you…”

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seasaltbaptism · 2 years

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hiiii nina ! na'mora + 3, 5, 7, 11, & 18 <333 KEESES! MWAH

[ 3 hours later ] HI HEATH GD!

What does your oc’s voice sound like? (Or, if you have one, what’s their voiceclaim?) Can they sing, whistle, or roll their rs? Do they have any speech impediments or notable dialects/accents?

》 during her years at the jedi temple on tython, na’mora had a fairly melodious voice that held a certain heir of mystery and light ; she was one to choose her words carefully among peers. she had a knack for getting others to talk, about their adventures outside the temple , the wars , the galaxy at large. her voice is a pleasant one to listen to, soothing. she’s the type of person to tell you something and you would believe her. it was also easy to tell what she was feeling when she spoke as joy , love, and heartbreak lived on the tip of her tongue. she could school her expressions, but her voice always gave her away and o’daakin was able to read her better than her own master at times , ‘ you speak honestly, like your hearts at the wheel. ‘

after her capture, na’mora’s voice underwent changes due to circumstances out of her control ; she doesn’t quite speak above a measured tone , very choosy with her words ( light and airy like a phantom and then harsh and biting , like her emotions are in constant flux ) and she doesn’t mince them either. what little she says keeps you on your toes, you subconsciously admit you want to hear more ( when she’s not angry ) . it holds a certain frigidity when speaking to people, her screams and yells of anguish or anger were visceral and her curses felt sharply upon skin, it’s as the force itself exacerbates her emotions and voice at times. not all is grim! na’mora still told stories, still somehow held onto bits and pieces of joy and warmth she experienced as a padawan , and relayed this joy and wonder to others captured and forced to fight. her voice, her ability to stir emotions from even the coldest of hearts is what drove the uprising that helped lead to their freedom. tdlr; sweet melodic voice has a harsh coldness to it , a bluntness and crass sense about it , underneath the surface hides a soft symphony reserved only for tender moments amongst friends or lovers.

What kind of clothes is your oc most comfortable wearing?

》 during her time in the pits she was forced to wear second rate armor until she proved she was a ‘ good investment. ‘ it was too tight, bruised her & chafed something horrible, but it was better than no armor. as time went on the cheap pieces were replaced with dura- gold and silver with royal insignias , marred by blood more often than not. after breaking free na’mora wears breathable fabrics & loose fitting robes ect. she can handle semi fitting tops and pants, but will be manageably panicked and irritated the entire time. she likes to feel the sun on her skin, and doesn’t really have a color preference , besides gold and most silver ; she has a large distaste for jewelry, bands, necklaces ect.

What song reminds you of this oc? Does this match up with the type of music your oc likes to listen to?

》 gall goídil by danheim!! i think it resembles her quite a lot! the woodwinds paint a free feeling, soft strings bring a melancholy into the mix that is forever apart of na’mora now, but in ways it’s incredibly strong and durable ,the drums like pounding of feet on the earth . ironically she is closer to the force in this hell hole than ever before, free of her teachings, free of limitations that would have seen her killed in the arena , free of guilt and self doubt , , , , idk this song just reminds me that a great beast tried to swallow her but she refused , and it can be seen in how she carries herself , speaks , moves even . would she listen to this? does this match up with the music she listens to? yeah sure! she listens to just about everything! but especially enjoys music that you feel more than you listen to , like sweet words of the force itself.

Does your oc have any interests/hobbies that they hide from everyone? Why do they hide these interests?

》 singing! she sings beautifully ! it’s nearly hypnotic. she sung to scared younglings at the temple, o’daakin when he was sick with a fever , battle weary gladiators on deaths door , sung for herself , under her breath . she just doesn’t enjoy people knowing things about her , she’s incredibly private and only sings when alone , there’s a certain vulnerability that comes with singing in front of crowds that she despises.

How does your oc see themself? How does this compare to the way other ocs see them?

》 na’mora’s view of herself use to morph constantly, worried that every little change would set her on a path to the dark side if left unmanaged. as she grew and experienced life, she realized that embracing your own faults and darkness is as essential as embracing your light ; she sees herself neutrally for the most part? she enjoys her strength and passion, her drive and all the things she achieves because of who she is , because of how well she can adapt and soothe herself and overcome. getting to this stage took days and nights of tears, self hatred & agony ; it was not an overnight process and took deep dives into her subconscious via meditation to truly release herself and try and love herself for who she is, releasing the notion that “ if this hadn’t happened i’d be THIS right now “ because that’s not what matters at this moment , it’s who she is and what she can do with that. [ there are times where she experiences bouts of intense guilt , self hatred , anger , grief at who she was though. ]

#* oc: na’mora #GOD WOW THIS TOOK FOREVER LMAO #edeemir #* answered #na’mora is a primal gd mess but i love her to DEATH #she’s swinging back and forth between ‘this is where we are now ‘ and ‘ i miss the innocent child i was ‘#and trying to heal and pacify herself is an uphill battle man i admire her for even fighting that fight #na’mora sure that o’daakin wouldn’t even recognize her let alone love her :#o’daakin apart of the coup to break her free: THERE YOU ARE! IVE MISSED YOU #like LOL.

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nyotaliafan-pinkmermaid · 7 months

Text

Two hearts united as one (Part 4)

Fandom : Hetalia

Characters/pairings : Aurelian x fem!Probus (HWS Roman Emperors , even though in this story are just named after them). Ancient Greece, Ancient Rome, North Italy , South Italy , Seborga, Genoa , nyo!Cyprus and nyo!Greece make guest appearances (Ancient Rome and Ancient Greece aren't married though nor they are related to eachother and the antagonist is actually an unnamed human OC).

Genres : Romance , Emotional, Modern AU

Rating: K+

Warnings : mentions of abuse(even though I won't make it too edgy) , nudity (nothing is explicit and nothing sexual happens between the main couple), parental loss , plus the bathing scene may make some people burst into tears so it will be better to have some tissues with you.

Word count: 6708

(Note : in case you don't like it , don't make any hateful or bashing comments or even message me, expressing hate. Instead feel free to get out).

It had been already two months since the young couple met and fell in love with eachother. Their relationship was genuinely a healthy one.

While other women in her age wanted to be the wives of wealthy men, she didn't care about riches and luxury. The man she fell for, didn't have lots of money but he knew how to treat her like an actual human being and give her the love she deserved and without asking for a reward.

At the same time , the rich man arrived at the mansion and when he found out that the young lady was nowhere to be seen, he got extremely furious and went to search for her by himself.

Meanwhile the young couple was outside and enjoyed the scenery around them with a smile on their faces.

But when the rich man saw Aurelian and Probus being so loving and tender with eachother, he felt disgusted and angry at the same time. He wanted to do something to separate them.

He grabbed Probus' hand violently and threatened her by saying this :

"So this is what you did during these two months that I was away. Lazying around. But I'll fix it. I demand that you will marry me and give birth to my sons. And if you give birth to daughters I will kill you. And you should always do whatever I'll tell you"

When he saw his girlfriend being humiliated in front of him, Aurelian knew that he couldn't sit and watch without doing nothing. He got angry and said to the much older man:

"Leave Probus alone, you creep. I won't let you have her and use her for your evil purposes, thus making her life even more miserable".

Then Probus looked her former boss directly in the eyes and told him with a brave tone on her voice:

"I will never be the wife of such an evil and cruel monster like you. Now I have Aurelian by my side who treats me with kindness and like an actual human being. He truly loves me. "

Now the evil rich man had no other feelings inside him besides severe anger.

"How dare you to ignore me you brat? Tommorow morning, I will beat your beloved one in a duel. And if you dare to intervene , there will be some very serious consequences".

For a very brief moment the man looked Aurelian on the eyes and said:

"Let's fight. One versus one. And no matter how you will respond , there won't be other winner besides me. And of course the woman here will be my prize".

The young boy responded to the man with such bravery and courage :

"Don't even call me a coward. I will fight you, not because I want to win this lovely lady as a prize. I won't let your crazy plans to be fulfilled"

Those words left Probus speechless at that moment. She had a strange feeling inside her that combined both happiness and sadness at the same time.

She was thankful that the man she loved fought for their love, but she was also afraid that he would might die. And the second was something that she didn't want to happen.

The couple went home so they would prepare for the duel the next morning.

All these made Probus wanting to talk to Aurelian. She couldn't keep it to herself.

"I am so glad that you are willing to protect me. But i'm scared for you too. You know what will happen if he wins, I'll be the wife of someone who will treat me with cruelty".

"There's no need to worry. I may be a common soldier but no matter how strong the enemy is , there's no excuse for backing down".

These words filled the lady's heart with courage and when it got dark they went to sleep. Tomorrow a long day awaited for them.

The day for the duel that would decide Probus' fate, finally came.

Would she be by Aurelian's side , while enjoying her freedom or would she marry her abusive boss and lose everything she has?

She looked at a box that she never opened, despite of taking it with her when she ecaped her golden cage. She soon noticed that there was a message on it.

Without wasting time she took the paper and started reading it:

[To our dear daughter. This is a gift, especially for you. But remember, you can only open it when something serious happens. Stay strong, we love you.

Your parents]

By the time she opened the box, her heart was beating faster than before. Until she saw what was actually inside there.

Inside the box was a long rosewater pink dress that looked like those worn from princesses. The same dress was sleeveless and bordered with a blue fringe at the edge of the bodice, and includes two separate cuffs worn similarly to bracelets, albeit with military shoulder tassels. It would also be accompanied with a golden spiked tiara like accessory and a pair of sandals.

She wore the dress and surprisingly it fitted her perfectly plus it made her feel like a princess and a warrior at the same time. Her father taught her how to fight and defend herself and she still remembered these lessons by heart.

By the time she arrived in the area of the duel , she saw her former master looking at her with such a lustful and creepy look on his eyes.

"Oh hello there my future wife and mother of my sons. Are you ready to see me beat that trashy soldier? Oh wait, he run away because he is too scared to fight me. And unlike him , I have both looks and money"

Those words filled Probus with such disgust and anger:

"You think that you can win only because you are rich and good looking. And two more things, first I will never be yours and second stop insulting the love of my life. He knows how to fight and he doesn't see me as a trophy".

Few minutes later a male voice was heard:

"If you are looking for me, I'm right here".

The moment Probus saw Aurelian coming she ran towards him with such an happy yet agonizing expression on her face.

"Finally you made it. I don't want anything bad to happen to you.Good luck facing your opponent".

"I am here for you. I promise to protect you with everything i have. The only thing you have to do now, is to be strong not for me but for yourself".

She went and stood outside the arena and without saying any word the two men started the battle.

The wealthy man ran toward Aurelian's direction and as he defended himself against him as he fought that man back.

It was obvious that the two men fought for different purposes. And their goals were exactly opposite to eachother. The evil wealthy man saw the young woman as a trophy to be won.

Aurelian didn't care about winning any prize. He fought because he loved Probus with all of his heart and he believed in his duty as a soldier.

He wouldn't allow himself to lose from a narcissist and megalomaniac person.

The duel continued for a long time and it seemed that none of the rivals seemed to give up, no matter how difficult it would be.

Suddenly the older man's expression became scary and he told with an obssesive tone on his voice:

"There's no other winner besides me. This woman there is my possession".

Upon hearing those insulting words the young man couldn't tolerate it and said to his opponent :

"You said possession? You treat a woman like a trophy , while ignoring how she truly feels? Tell me".

Those were the young boy's words towards his opponent and "clang" sound was heard as he put his sword to his rivals.

The older male tried to make the younger one lose his sword and fall to the ground. And the next step was to get rid of him.

Seeing this in front of her eyes, Probus couldn't stand there without doing anything. She wanted to defend Aurelian , the same way he defended her. And without second thought she jumped between the two opponents.

Noticing this, the former wealthy master started yelling at the young lady.

"What are you doing here brat? You dare to intervene? Did you forgot what I told you before"?

"I am not afraid of any consequences. I only want to help my beloved against you. I won't allow you to kill him".

This small but brave speech gave the boy more encouragement and he continued fighting.

The girl nodded at him and she went outside the arena again.

It seemed that the duel was about to end. The young man used his skills against his opponent, while observing every single of his moves carefully.

Finally the battle ended and Aurelian was the winner. And of course he didn't need to use any trick to win, but only what he was taught during his training back when he was learning how to be a soldier.

At the same time , Probus ran towards Aurelian who had his arms opened, calling her for a hug. She immediately went near him, put her arms around his waist and hugged him, while he was hugging her back. He was wounded , but he didn't mind it at all.

"I knew it that the victory would be yours. Thank you so much".

"You are welcome. You always believe in me, so i will do the same for you".

The best thing was that he allowed to use that dress of hers as a military uniform and fight by his side not as a superior nor as an inferior, but as an equal. Like she really deserved.

The lady's former evil boss looked at the couple and couldn't believe that he lost.

The lady came towards him and said the following:

"All this time you tried to make me look weak and helpless, by torturing me without mercy. But I'm still here and now I realise that the truly weak one here is you. From now on, you will live in the world you created for yourself only in your mind. You are nothing more than just a shadow of my past, which I shall forget . Goodbye forever".

After telling this ,the woman didn't look back and took her beloved's hand , while both returned to their home to rest and prepare for the trial that would give her former torturing master a taste of his own medicine and thousand times bitter.

They both smiled at eachother knowing that love will always win in the end.

To be continued...

#aph aurelian #aph probus #fem probus #aurelian x probus #aurelian x fem probus #otp #aph emperors #husbando #waifu #fanfiction

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peachycoreroo · 3 years

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i was thinking, what about boys from haikyuu losing game and taking their anger on their s/o in bed to the point s/o is saying safe word, crying? if that's too much, just make them really angry, hurting s/o with words.

i was thinking about Suna, Kita and maybe Shirabu?

characters: suna rintarou, kita shinsuke, shirabu kenjirou

genre: smut, slight angst, fluff at the end

word count: 1.8k

warnings: fem!reader, angry boys, established relationships, spanking, one (1) face slap, choking, vaginal penetration, oral m!receiving, usage of ‘whore’, ‘bitch’ and ‘slut’, heavy degradation, semi-public sex, pretty harsh words are said, safe word is used

authors note: uuu this is my first darker piece for hq, but it does end in fluff!! i tweaked it so it fits the timeskip, but just a friendly reminder that this is pure fiction, your favs love you and would never hurt you<3 here's a link to my masterlist

pt.2: kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru, tsukishima kei

suna rintarou:

it wasn’t often that your boyfriend resorted to pounding the living shit out of you immediately when you had sex, usually opting for teasing you till you couldn’t take it anymore and begged him to fuck you or took the reins in your own hands and rode him till you were both shaking from overstimulation.

this time, was bad though.

the japanese national volleyball team just lost the finale of the olympics, resulting in them only getting the silver medal. no matter how amazing the second-place sounded, it still hit hard to miss the big gold by a hair.

just like how hard suna was currently hitting your ass, as he fucked into you in the empty changing room of the team. you only wanted to check on him when you saw how dejected he looked as he left the field with the team, when the tall brunet just ripped down your clothes and bent you over, fury dancing in his greenish eyes.

you knew how hard rintarou and his teammates worked for this. it was only natural they couldn’t celebrate. losing is still losing, no matter if you’re getting a medal.

“f-fuck, rin, it hurts”, you wailed, tears already streaming down your face from the full-force slaps that were delivered to your sore ass cheeks. being bent over with only the locker in front of you and sunas’ hands on your hips as a leverage to not fall face first on the floor, slowly took a troll on your tired body. it also didn’t help that your legs were barely able to keep you up with how powerful his thrusts were.

“shut the fuck up and take it, worthless whore”, he growled furiously, thrusts only increasing in speed, and a hand sneaking to your front, wrapping itself around your neck. the cruel comments that usually caused your cunt to flutter and eyes roll back, suddenly made your heart sink.

you knew he was angry at being defeated by the opposing team and not at you, but you couldn’t stop the heavy feeling in your chest, or the tears that seemed to multiply at his cold remark.

when the adjustment of his hips caused him to hammer his fat tip painfully against your cervix and his hand tightened harshly around your throat, your knees gave out and you tried to scream only for nothing to come out of your mouth.

“useless, fucking bitch, can’t even stand upright. why do i even keep you around?” he aggressively huffed, not paying any attention to your comfort. you couldn’t take this anymore.

your body went completely limp, as you whispered a small, choked ‘silk’, not even being sure if he heard, when his mind was so clouded by rage.

but he did. and his heart painfully clenched when he recognized the hurt tone in your voice, instantly letting go of your bruised throat and ceasing his thrusts.

guilt filled him as he pulled out and finally looked at you to see you sobbing uncontrollably, arms wrapping protectively around your form as if you were afraid of him hurting you.

“hey… hey, y/n, sweetie, look at me.” suna’s gentle tone had you looking up at him, your vision blurry as your pained expression met his tender one.

“’m s-sorry i couldn’t help you, r-rin’. ‘m sorry y-you lost”, you stuttered out helplessly.

here you were, crying and in pain, but still thinking about him. the brunet was sure he didn’t deserve you.

“no, i’m sorry, pretty. i got carried away”, the tall volleyball player whispered softly, his large palms cupping your cheeks, “i love you and i never want to hurt you. please, forgive me.”

the guilt etched into his handsome face showed you just how bad he really felt, your lips lifting in a small smile. “’s ok, rin’. i love you too.”

the tall male breathed out a sigh of relief as he embraced you tightly and kissed your forehead. suna rintarou would never get carried away like this again. that, he promised himself.

kita shinsuke:

when kita got home, all dejected and upset because some assholes decided to trash grandma yumie’s precious crops in the darkness of the night, you opened your arms with love and understanding. what you didn’t expect however, as you asked how you could help, was to end up on your knees with your boyfriend abusing your throat for what felt like hours.

your knees were aching from the uncomfortable position on the hardwood floor, throat painfully contracting around his thick length as he pounded your mouth as if it were your cunt, jaw hurting from holding it open for so long.

you felt like you would pass out any minute, and while normally kita would immediately sense any of your slightest mood shifts when you were being intimate, he didn’t this time.

where there was usually a caring boyfriend who wouldn’t take his gaze of your face and always asked if you’re doing okay, was a guy who had a far away look on his frowning face, only using you as an outlet for his anger.

the white-black haired male was almost scarily quiet, only occasional grunts and growls escaping his lips. your gurgling and gagging sounds as he hit the back of your throat with every forceful thrust were painful to listen to, and you couldn’t wrap your head around your boyfriend not realizing what he was doing to you.

as tears streamed down your numb face, you weren’t able to stop your teeth from grazing his fat cock, your throbbing jaw not cooperating with your brain anymore.

kita let out an animalistic growl as he pulled out of your wet mouth at once, a sudden slap to your tender cheek startling you.

“you asked how to help and you’re doing exactly that, but can’t even do that for me, huh?”, he spat almost hostilely.

the hurtful words, the harsh slap and the rage painted on his usually calm and kind face made your heart ache, as you sobbed out a ‘peach! shin’, please! peach!’

kita suddenly felt as if he awoke from a hypnosis, when he heard you cry out your safe word. as his -now clear- gaze fell on you, he couldn’t help his chest from painfully tightening. you only offered to help, and he’s gone and hurt you like never before.

falling on his knees in front of you, he pulled you into his strong arms, rocking you both side to side as he apologetically murmured ‘i’m so sorry, angel’ and ‘i love you’ over and over again into your messy hair.

“m’ okay, shinsuke. just wanted to help", you sniffled against his chest, making kita close his eyes out of pure shame that he did that to you.

“let’s get you into the bathtub and i’ll cook your favorite, how does that sound love?”, he whispered softly, as if afraid that any of his next movements would make you break.

the next few weeks you barely got to do anything, kita shinsuke always glued to your side and immediately taking over any task that was thrown at you.

shirabu kenjirou:

being a med student was fucking exhausting. shirabu had spent months writing a very important thesis about certain brain tumors on newborns, only for his professor to give him a c. something about it not being detailed enough.

“fuck you”, shirabu spat as he was sitting in front of the fire place in your shared apartment, throwing all 80 pages of the “not detailed” dissertation into the fire.

“ken’? what are you doing?”

“burning this fucking nightmare. ’m gonna drop out, fuck this shit”, he almost growled furiously. coming up behind him, you wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, leaning down to ask lowly: “you want a better way to deal with your anger?”

that’s how you found yourself bent over his lap with your panties dangling at your ankles. the spanking wasn’t new, your boyfriend being super pissed while doing so, was.

the first few slaps went as usual with you clenching around nothing and enjoying the rubs to the tender flesh shirabu hit a few seconds prior. after, it suddenly went downhill.

all at once, the soft caresses ceased to a stop, his calloused palm from years of playing volleyball coming down on your ass with full force and the copper-haired man spewing some of the most degrading stuff you’ve ever heard.

“fucking slut, getting off to this. you like it when i use you to let out my anger? i’m having a hard time while you’re just being a horny, selfish fucktoy”.

at the last sentence, you froze. did he really think you were using him? you only wanted to help, but his cold words continued. “gonna beat your ass till it’s sore and aching, you won’t be able to sit without remembering what a useless fucking girlfriend you were while i needed support.”

the logical part of your brain knew, that your boyfriend didn’t mean it. the anger got the best of him, and he just threw around accusations like he wished he could do at his asshole of a prof.

but the bigger, sensitive part of your brain convinced you that he meant every single hurtful word. you weren’t even hearing what derogatory stuff was spilling from his lips anymore, vision blurry and ears ringing from the pain you felt in your chest as well as your ass cheeks.

was this your fault? was it wrong to try and help? maybe you should’ve given him some space.

a particularly hard spank brought you back to reality, suddenly tasting the salty wetness of your tears seeping into your mouth as you cried out a loud ‘pumpkin!”, trying to push yourself out of his lap and landing on the floor with a loud ‘thud’ as his hands instantly let you go.

shirabu could only look at you wide-eyed when he saw how you were choking on your sobs and crawling backwards, just to get away from him.

“please don’t hit me anymore!”, were the words, that would haunt kenjirou for the rest of his life. he could feel himself tear up when it hit him what he did to you, his precious girlfriend, just because he was angry at a prof.

“baby, i- please i would never hit you like that on purpose, i- “, the male felt his throat tighten up and with a quiet sniffle he embraced you tightly, craving the warmth of your body. “forgive me, i love you so much, please don’t go.”

as you started to calm down, your arms wrapped themselves around him, wanting to be close to him as well, because no matter what, he was your biggest comfort and you still loved him.

“’m not going anywhere, kenji’. just… please don’t do that ever again”, you murmured against his temple.

“never.”

2K notes · View notes

rezzyromance · 3 years

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Could I request Heisenberg with a female s/o who's negatively pent up from anxiety and depression and feeling like they're not good enough for Karl but they always put on a brave face to not look weak? They just want to make him happy and proud maybe maybe when they're either fucking or just working, maybe he says an offhand comment that hits home, idk being called useless is a good one to feel like being stabbed. They love him but they've been hiding all their mental struggles and bottling it up be a use they always focused on him first? Mental health feels neglected rn and could use the hurt/comfort if you're okay with this! Up to you if you want to add smut or not, with or without is great

Of course, baby. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the story. (CW: Hurt/Comfort, mentions of anxiety and depression. Sexual scenarios: Fingering, face riding, praising, general NSFW)

Living with Karl is a task that can be mentally taxing on anyone. For you, this wasn't an exception. There was no doubt in your mind that you loved him, but that dragged along a few issues with it. You loved him so much, that you constantly felt an unbearable pressure that pushed you to attempt to impress him out of fear that he may view you as inferior to him. Karl is without a doubt strong, insanely intelligent, passionate, and all around tremendously powerful. Often times you wondered why he even keeps you around.

You had grown very close with him over time. He never put a real title on your relationship, but you both knew that he loved you. He loved you enough to let you help out on his work. He assigned little tasks for you to do such as organizing his blueprints, creating blueprints, and organizing his tools. Each time you did something, he would reward you with praise. Sometimes the praise would be heart to heart while other times it may be skin to skin. While the praise he provided felt rewarding, you began to worry what may happen if your work wasn't good enough. What if you weren't good enough? What if he stopped finding you useful or attractive? These troubling thoughts had been torturing you recently. But, you kept it all bottled up, worried that he may view you as weak if he knew you were so afraid of failure. Whenever you would work on something, you would sit there for hours on end. Nothing could stop you until you were finished. You did this as a way to imitate Karl and his tireless work. Though, Karl does have powers that help keep his body from shutting down the way yours does. That didn't stop you from constantly pushing yourself overboard, though.

A knot grew larger and larger in your throat as you attempted to sketch out a new blueprint, slouching while sitting on your bed. He had asked you to work on it that morning and it was nearly midnight now. The lines were uneven, your hand writing was messy, and it was easy to see where you had erased and redrawn a lot of little details all over the paper. A single tear fell from your eye and onto the paper, causing a wet spot where the ink began to smear. You ignore your body and minds cry for help by quickly wiping your eyes and acting as if it didn't happen. Your hands were shaking as you applied more details, not being close to finish. Your eyes were twitching, fed up with staring down so harshly at the paper for so long. Suddenly, the door to the room opens.

You jump and face the door, realizing how cramped your neck was from your poor posture. Karl entered the room, obviously tired from a long days work. His eyes looked heavy and he was running his hands through his hair. "Still working on that blueprint, buttercup?", he asks as he walks towards you. You look back at the paper and realize how low quality it was, along with unfinished. You quickly hold the paper to your chest, attempting to block it from him. 'Um it's almost finished I swear! I just n-need to add a few more little details.", you assure him. He holds his hand out. "Let me see.", he raises an eyebrow and begins to wiggle his fingers. You attempt to swallow the knot in your throat as you shakily hand it over.

Your hands clutch each other tightly, digging what's left of your bitten nails into your skin. His eyes scan each inch of the paper and his eyebrows begin to furrow. "What.. is this?", he looks over to you. "What?", you're voice is shaky and cracking, but you attempt to cover it up by clearing your throat. "(Y/N)... you've been in here all day and THIS is all you could do? What have you been doing all day?", his voice began to grow into a semi-shout. It felt like thunder as it shook your body. You take a deep breath, attempting to toughen up to his words. "I really did try! I did exactly what you told me an-" he cuts you off before you can finish. "Really? You did exactly as I told you?! You said you could have this done by tonight and i trusted your judgement. But (Y/N) this shit is useless!"

He continues to fuss, but it was all silent to you. All you could hear was the echo of his voice saying that word. "Useless." The one thing you feared of becoming. The one thing you feared of creating. Your balled fists begin to shake. Your lip begins to quiver and your eyes grow cloudy.

"I'M SORRY!", you cry out before looking down at the floor, failing to control your tears as they fell to the floor. Suddenly, your eyes began to flood. Your stomach and heart felt like they were twisting and turning with guilt. He froze, unsure of how to handle this sudden outburst. "Was I too harsh?", he thought. "I'VE TRIED SO HARD TO BE GOOD ENOUGH. GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU! I'VE TRIED TO PERFECT YOUR WORK. I'VE TRIED TO LOOK MY BEST EVERY DAY! FOR YOU! I'VE DONE EVERYTHING YOU'VE TOLD ME TO!", your whole body shakes as you break down. "I never told you that you had to do any of that! What the hell have you been pushing yourself so hard for?", his tone was still stern, but he wasn't angry. He was very concerned, but had no idea how to express it. "I WANTED TO MAKE YOU PROUD!", you continue to cry.

The room was silent other than your quiet sobbing. He didn't know what to say. He had no clue that you had put so much pressure on yourself to impress him. He had no idea on why it mattered so much to you. And in that moment, something in him began to ache. He remembered being like that once. So dead set on making others proud of him no matter what it took. He had no clue what to say due to no one ever being there for him in his time of struggle, so instead he goes for a more physical approach.

He grabs you by the arm and pulls you to his body, holding you close. You bury your face in his chest to try and muffle your cries. He runs his hand through your hair, still confused as to why you pushed yourself so hard for him. "I just..", you sniffle. "I just wanted to be good enough.. for you...", you say as you try to stop crying. He lifted you up, carrying you bridal style to the bed. He crawled up and sat his back against a pillow, continuing to hold you close as you buried your face in his neck.

"Look at me.", he held your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger and waited for you to face him. You sniffle and pull your head up to meet him eye to eye. There was a new look in his eyes. Something unfamiliar to the both of you. Tenderness. "You are good enough. And I am so proud of you. Everyday you make me proud. Every time I look at you I'm proud.", he begins to wipe the tears from your face, struggling to find the right words to say. "Look. You don't need to overwork yourself. The fact that you stick around with me to begin with is enough for me." A small smile begins to grow on your face. The sight warms him and helps reassure him that he didn't say anything dumb.

Once you've seemed to calm down, he pulls you in for a kiss. It was warmer than usual. Softer than usual. And Karl isn't a man known for being soft or gentle. But this kiss was far from rough, but just as passionate. It was reassuring and safe. He pulls away and smiles at the sight of your now blushing face. "There's my pretty girl. Now, if you feel like it... since we're already on the bed.. I think I know a thing or two you can do if you still wanna feel useful.", he offers with a sly grin. You giggle and begin to straddle his lap. "Sounds good to me." you say as his hands start to wander around your hips.

"But, we're gonna be doing something different.", he says as his eyes scan every inch of your body. "What's that?", you go to unbuckle his belt but he grabs your wrist before you can continue. "Tonight's all about you. I wanna make you feel good.", he says. During every sexual situation you've had, you had focused on pleasing him first, not thinking about yourself and your own wants and desires. You don't object, so he moves his hands back to your hips and pulls you off of his body, effortlessly tossing you onto your back on the bed.

He then pins himself above you, towering over you. Your heart races at the new experience and your face glows more and more pink. His eyes meet yours and the sight alone is enough to start making your panties grow wet. He lowers his face down to your neck where he begins to place little kisses. Chills run through your body like ocean waves and you let out a quiet gasp as a kiss turns into a nibble. A hickey begins to form and he lets go, moving his mouth to your ear. "I want you to tell me what you want, buttercup." he whispers in your ear as one of his hands begins to wander across your body. It starts up near your breast where he fondles it gently, earning a lip bite from you. Then, he goes lower to your stomach where he scratches lightly at your skin. You squirm beneath his hand. He smiles and begins to kiss you once more before going even further, slipping his hands into your pants and cupping your vagina through your soaking panties. You gasp while your lips are still connected and he gently tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, pleased at the reaction he's gotten from you.

"Is this what you want?", he slips two of his fingers into your panties and finds your clit, rubbing it slowly. "Mhm", you whine and press yourself into him. "Goodgirl.", he moves from where he was and makes his way down to your pants. He unbottons them and begins to pull them off. He throws the pants across the room and crawls back towards you on the bed. He removes your shirt and your bra underneath, throwing them in the same direction of the pants. He lowers his head down to one of your hard nipples and wraps his mouth around it, caressing it with his tongue. This causes you to moan quietly and grip the sheets beneath you. Your nipple was already so tender, so the feeling of his tongue was powerful enough to make you squirm. He lowers his hand back into your panties, rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your knees bend inward, trapping his hand between your legs. He chuckles with your nipple gently between his teeth. "Looks like you like this, huh?" You moan in response.

It didn't take long for you to feel a climax building inside you, coming closer and closer to exploding with each touch he inflicted onto your throbbing clit. Moans of all volumes filled the room as you got closer and closer. Then, right when you were about to cum, he stops. You groan in disappointment and look over at him. "I was just warming you up.", he smirks and lays on his back. "Come here.", he commands and pats on his chest, signaling for you to sit there. You do as he says and sit upon his chest. The second you sit down, His strong hands grip onto your hips and he begins to pull your body towards his face. He places you on top of his mouth. The next thing you know, your soaked pussy is being attacked by his tongue. You can't help but let a moan slip out between your lips as he closes is eyes, fully focused on bringing you maximum pleasure. He places each hand on each thigh, gripping them slightly all while his tongue swirls around your clit. You use one hand to grip the headboard of the bed and the other one to grip his hair, tangling your fingers in the grey strands. You grip harder as he sucks on your clit, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. He let loose a few muffled moans and groans, causing vibrations on your pulsing clit. "Oh fuck Karl!", you feel your body weight sink lower and lower as you melt into the pleasure of his tongue. You begin to grind your hips back and forth, riding out your orgasm. He doesn't mind at all and begins to work harder to finally push you to your limit. With a loud moan, you cum into his mouth.

As you catch your breath and shake on top of him, he grabs you once again and pushes you over onto the bed. His beard was shiny around his lips due to a mixture of your sweat and cum. He looks down at your flustered and flushed face, pleased with what he'd done. You noticed a large bulge protruding from his pants. "I want you.", you pant as you reach over, massaging the hard lump. He responds by stripping, too breathless to verbally respond. Once he's fully naked, he makes his way onto the bed. You take him by the shoulder and pull his face into yours, initiating a passionate make out session. Your tongues caressing one another as you both toss and turn, ending up with you straddling him.

You rub his already throbbing dick, preparing for its entry. It was quite large and veiny. The hair that led from his lower stomach to his pubic area glistened with precum. You position yourself and begin to sit on his dick, letting it slowly fit inside you. Your extra wetness helped lube it. Once it was completely in, Karl groaned, grabbing your ass in his calloused hands. "Fuck.. you're so good.", he encourages. You begin to slowly rise and fall, letting your pussy stretch to comfortably fit his girth. You both moaned quietly. Once you feel comfortable, you wrap your arms around his neck and begin to bounce on it, feeling each thick vein add texture. 'What a good girl..." Every time you made your way back down, you could feel the tip of his dick reach your special spot, making your knees feel weak. As overwhelming as it felt, you couldn't stop. You continued to bounce up and down on his dick as his fingers grip your ass for dear life. "You're doing so good.", he praises you and you thank him by clashing your lips together, sharing sloppy kisses as you both moan with each up and down motion. "Such a good girl.", he begins to squeeze your breast, causing you to squeal and pick up the pace. It felt amazing, but your legs grew weaker and weaker with each motion, and he could tell. You were panting as you fucked yourself senseless on his dick.

"Wait a sec.", he gently pats your ass to get you to stop. You stop and rest your sweaty forehead to his, legs shaking beneath you. You didn't want to stop, but you weren't sure how much longer you could continue. Your legs felt like they were on fire. 'Let me help you.", his hands glide up to your waist where he clutches your sides and begins to bounce you up and down, continuing the motion you could no longer do yourself. You kiss him and whine into his lips as he slams your body up and down, grunting harder each time. "Such a pretty girl.." he pants. "Riding my cock so good..", he begins to slam his hips into you, reaching a point inside you that he's never reached before. You throw your head back and moan, tears of pleasure and bliss begin to form in your eyes. You're both exhausted and so close to finishing. You're whole body felt like it was numb and on fire at the same time as your climax creeped closer and closer.

And with a few more strong pumps into you, you both cum. He lets loose of your sides and wraps his arms around your back, drenching in sweat. You collapse on top of him, unable to move any of your body. Karl places a few more sloppy kisses across your face, his facial hair tickling your skin. "Don't you ever.. ever believe you're not good enough. Got it?", he pressures. You're too exhausted to form words, so you simply nod your head, laying down on his chest. His heart beat was rapid but soothing. Soon enough, it lulled you to sleep. He soon followed, keeping his arms wrapped tight around you the entire time.

#re8 #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg x you #karl heisenberg headcanon #karl heisenberg headcanons #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg angst #karl heisenberg fanfic #karl heisenburg #karl heisenberg smut

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helpimhyperfixating · 3 years

Text

Jotaro Comforts You

Word Count: 2935

Having a bad day (like me) and need Jotaro to comfort you? He's got you! Whatever problem you currently have, it's alright, come here and let the Joot man help.

- - - -

Jotaro tiredly opened the door, having spent the entire day in the library, regrettably having to work on a project with one of his classmates. The dude didn't seem to get a hint to shut up and had talked almost the entire time. So, to say Jotaro's social battery was down was an understatement.

As he put down his bag with a small groan and took off his shoes and coat however, he noticed the lack of noise in the house. Normally, the tv or radio would be on, providing background noise for you as you did whatever. Yet right now, there was nothing. Not even a clatter, footstep or hum.

Jotaro's brow furrowed a little and he made his way deeper into the house. No sign of you in the living room, nor kitchen.

A near empty carton of juice was left open on the counter and Jotaro picked it up for a second. He remembered when he left a carton near empty in the fridge once and you had pointedly lobbed the thing at his head, clearly making your point and causing him to never do it again. So, to see you do that thing that you despise worried him, to say the least.

"Y/N?" No longer able to stomach the pressing silence, he called out for you. Yet there was no answer and Jotaro's worry spiked. Your shoes and keys were still by the door in their designated spot so you hadn't left. Yet why weren't you answering?

Quickly putting the juice down with a little more force than necessary, Jotaro made his way out of the kitchen and started walking down the hall towards your shared bedroom. On the way, he opened the study and bathroom but both were empty so he just continued to where his gut was leading him.

Once he reached the door, he carefully opened it, a sigh of relief leaving him when he spotted you lying on the bed.

That relief was short lived however, as he took in the pose you were lying in.

You were lying on top of the blankets, curled in on yourself in the foetus position, except you had tucked your head behind your knees, hiding your face completely from sight as you hugged yourself into a tiny, uncomfortable ball.

Jotaro was silent as he walked in. He knew you were awake and aware of his presence, yet you hadn't unfurled and greeted him, which majorly tipped him off that something was wrong. As he reached the bed and went to reach out for you, he heard the shakiness of your breathing. Were you... crying?

"Y/N? Are you alright?" There was a gentle tenderness to his voice as he put his hand on your shoulder, squeezing slightly in the hopes it would work to do... well, something positive at least.

"Mhm!" What was supposed to be an affirmative hum came out as more of a squeak, quickly stifled by the person who made the noise.

Hearing that, Jotaro sighed softly and crouched down, keeping his hand on your shoulder as he did and now placing his other hand on your knee. "Y/N."

"I'm fine!" Your voice was a little higher pitched than normal, a barely noticeable quiver to it as you quickly spoke those two words.

"You sure?" It was abundantly clear to Jotaro that something was wrong. He wasn't stupid. He also just didn't know his way around words and what to say. You were always the one to voice the emotions, both for yourself and for him, even when he didn't even really realise when he had them. If he was stressed, you would point it out and try to get him to relax. If you were frustrated, you would tell him and he'd help you by getting to the origin of your frustration and dealing with it with you. If he was angry, you would point out he was nearly breaking the glass in his hand and he would realise and calm down. And, if you were sad, you would come to him and ask for comfort. Jotaro never really needed to use his words to express his emotions, you were there to verbally express them for him and he would do all he could with his actions.

So, for you to lie and say you were alright when there was clearly something wrong, that truly worried the college student.

"Yeah, of course." You croaked back in response to his question, trying but failing to clear your throat afterwards. "Sometimes you just have to curl in on yourself like a cat, y'know? It's fun!" A watery chuckle left you as you spoke but your fake cheeriness did not fool the man beside you for even a second; especially since you dug your head even deeper behind your knees as you spoke. "I'm fine, don't worry."

Jotaro softly sighed and stood up, lifting his hands from your shoulder and knee before walking around to the other side of the bed. Slowly and carefully getting on, he did his best to not make the bed dip in such a way that would set you off balance and instead turned to lay down, his back propped up a little against the headboard with pillows.

"Come here, love."

The sudden sentence and nickname broke you from your thoughts of trying to keep your tears in and cries silent and you lifted your top leg a little, peeking through the newly created gap to see Jotaro lying down with his arms open and beckoning you closer.

You didn't want to burden him with your emotions today, knowing he was probably exhausted and just done with the world, so when you suddenly started breaking down about half an hour ago, you had retreated towards the bedroom and hidden away in the hopes Jotaro thought you were out and wouldn't find you. Looks like that plan failed.

But seeing him open his arms to you so warmly and innocently to you, you couldn't stop your body from slowly uncurling.

Your neck cracked from the lengthened period of sitting in an uncomfortable position and Jotaro cringed a little at the noise. His hands still beckoned you however and when you got on your knees, head hung low to still somewhat hide your face and crawled over, he immediately made his arms encircle you once you were in range.

Gently, he coaxed you to lay down against and on him. "Little higher." He spoke when your head landed on his midriff and you did as he said, lifting yourself up a little and shifting a bit higher. Using his arms around you, he helped and positioned you in such a way that your right ear was now pressed to the left side of his chest, right over his heart as he kept his arms locked securely around you, working his legs in between yours and tangling them together while you automatically wrapped your left arm around his waist, your right stuck underneath yourself and flat against his side, yet not uncomfortably so.

"What's wrong?" Jotaro asked again, moving his right hand up to gently hold the back of your head, scratching your scalp lightly in a slow and calming motion.

"Nothing." You spoke again yet simultaneously turned your head to bury your face in his chest, trying to hide again though your legs were now captive to Jotaro's.

"Alright." That was all Jotaro said before falling into silence; a patient understanding in the tone of his voice.

And so the two of you lay in bed, Jotaro gently holding you in his arms while you tried to forcefully calm yourself and stop your breakdown.

Despite the calming presence of Jotaro and the gentle lulling that his heartbeat and hand on your head brought however, your mind kept going in the same spiral. The same thoughts over and over again until you felt the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes again. You had to let it out. If not by crying, then by just talking about it. And, since you didn't want to show even more weakness, you decided to go with the second option.

"I-" You started, but immediately stopped, not really knowing what you wanted to say. "I'm sorry." You choked up at those words, not even having a reason why but Jotaro shushed you, using his hand on your head to press it back down against his chest when you tried to lift it.

"Don't apologise." He murmured, now rubbing his thumb back and forth in a comforting motion. "I know I'm not good at words but I will listen. Talk when you're ready."

His words tugged at your heartstrings and you automatically tightened your hold on him, your right hand bunching his shirt up until you had such a tight hold on it you were almost positive it would wrinkle permanently. That didn't matter right now to Jotaro though.

"I'm a grown ass human, you shouldn't have to comfort me. And- and you had that group project today so you are probably exhausted and completely done with the day, s-so-"

"Stop." Jotaro interrupted you. "None of that shit matters. You matter."

"But-"

"I told you to shut it." He stopped you before you could go into another apology schpiel. "Everyone needs comfort, so just be quiet and take it and then talk when you're ready. Understood?"

Sniffling, you just nodded your head, burying your nose back in his chest and basking in the warmth his body gave off in silence.

You always read and heard that listening to someone else's heartbeat was calming, but now that you actually heard it yourself and really focused your attention on it, you realised how true that actually was. Maybe that was why Jotaro liked laying his head on your chest. Besides the obvious of course, cause damn, you had to admit laying on his tiddies was very nice as well.

Just that thought caused you to smile a little to yourself and you took in a shaky breath, trying to sync it with Jotaro's calm and steady ones.

He had never stopping lightly scratching your head and with that, plus the heartbeat, plus the heat, plus the comfort of his presence, plus the breathing, you finally felt calm enough to talk and seem as if you weren't just bawling your eyes out in silence.

"I'm- today..." You started, unsure since the moment you opened your mouth, you could feel that lump returning to your throat so fast.

"Hm?" Jotaro hummed. You heard his head shift a little so he could look at you but you didn't dare look up, just biting your lip in the hopes the lump would go down. You already started talking now though, so you weren't backing down.

"It's just that, about an hour ago now-" The further into the sentence you got, the more choked up you got, tears filling your vision again. But you didn't care anymore. Tears pouring down your face again, sniffling, scratchy and hiccuping voice, you just told him everything. The reason you were so sad, why you tried to hide away and not let him know, how you didn't know what to do; it was just a continuous stream of spewed words and sentences. Yet, Jotaro listened. True to his word, he listened to every sound pouring from your mouth, humming softly every now and then to indicate he was indeed still there.

Once you were done and had spilled your entire heart out, a wet splotch on his shirt where your tears had soaked through it, Jotaro just merely pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before rolling you over until you were on top of him, gently pushing your head to rest in the crook of his neck while he used his other free arm to rub your back.

"It's going to be alright." He spoke. No edge to his voice, no teasing undertone as you were used to, just, pure and utter sincerity. "I'll always be here."

"Thank you." Your voice was muffled and still sounded teary and you were pretty sure you accidentally drooled a bit on his neck when opening your mouth but Jotaro didn't feel it or didn't care as he pressed his cheek against the side of your head and just held you close, cradling you like a fragile figure of glass.

Several minutes pass like that, nothing but the sound of soft breathing and the occasional ruffle of the bedsheets.

"Have you eaten yet?" Jotaro suddenly broke the silence and you opened your eyes that you had closed a little bit ago.

"No, but- Oh god, oh no, I was supposed to cook and now-" You were hiccuping in between your words once more after finally having calmed down earlier. "Now you won't have any dinner and I'm so sorry Jotaro, I-"

"Hey, it's alright, I'll cook." Jotaro shushed you again, lifting your head from his neck and looking into your eyes as he held a finger under your chin to tilt your head up. "C'mon."

With that, Jotaro sat up with you still in his arms - utilising those abs he trained every morning to get - and swung his legs over the side of the bed, taking hold of your calf and manoeuvring it so that you would lock your legs around his waist.

Not really knowing why, you just did as he wordlessly asked and held on, moving your arms to wrap around his neck while locking your ankles against each other behind his back.

Now that you were in prime carry position as his personal baby monkey, Jotaro moved one arm under you and one arm around your back, getting up without any troubles as he began taking large strides through the house.

While you expected him to go to the kitchen or living room to put you down, he instead made a pit-stop in the bathroom and placed you down on the edge of the tub.

You were confused but stayed silent as he walked over to the cabinet and took out a washcloth before holding it under the tap in the sink, wetting it with water before walking back over to you and kneeling down in front of you.

He gently clasped your chin in his left hand, tilting your head side to side for a second before a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Your embarrassment flared up and you could feel your cheeks start to burn from all the blood that rushed to them. You probably looked like a disgusting mess and now he was just taking a good look at you.

Luckily, Jotaro seemed to have some mercy because, even if he did see the blush, he didn't mention it and just pressed the washcloth to your face.

Your breath hitched, not having expected it to be warm, but as Jotaro started gently rubbing it along your face, you couldn't help but hum in content, the sound completely involuntary.

After about three minutes, Jotaro seemed content and he placed the washcloth in the sink before turning back to you.

"Thanks." You shyly spoke and Jotaro hummed softly. "Do I look pretty again?" You spoke a little bit more upbeat with a dumb, tearful grin - making a stupid pose. Just simply rolling his eyes, Jotaro leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a short, soft kiss, pulling back a few moments later to look at you again. "So... pretty enough to kiss then?"

"Yare yare, c'mon." He ignored your stupidity and turned around until he was crouched, back facing towards you - though you did spot the small smirk that he held before he turned.

Just then, you realised what he meant. "On your back?" You questioned with an unsure tone as you looked at it as if it was foreign.

"Get on." Jotaro huffed and you hesitantly but quickly did just that.

With way too much ease, Jotaro stood up, looping his arms under your legs and walking out of the bathroom while you clung onto him like a Koala.

In way less steps than you would have had to take, the two of you arrived in the kitchen and Jotaro started gathering ingredients and cookware.

Either you weren't paying attention, or the hour of crying messed with your head and made your brain all foggy, cause it didn't really register that - even though Jotaro had removed his arms from under your legs and was no longer holding you up - you still felt a pair of arms under your legs, holding you and making you able to just lean agains Jotaro's back without really having to do anything to hold yourself.

As Jotaro got to work, a sleepy haze overtook you and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep against him, your chin on his shoulder as your head leaned into his.

Jotaro felt your weight sink into him fully, indicating you had fallen asleep and he allowed a soft smile to appear on his face. Star Platinum appeared fully and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek since Jotaro couldn't before fading back into his user and just having his arms out to hold you.

You may have had a rough day, but Jotaro wouldn't swap this for the world. Feeling your hair tickle his cheek as you leaned on him, soft yet steady breaths leaving you as you slept.

And, when you woke up, you would be surprised with your favourite food as dinner, and Jotaro couldn't wait to see your reaction.

Did someone say soft Joot? Soft Joot soft Joot soft Joot soFT JOOT. I'm going through some shit so hey! Who better to help than my comfort character

#Jotaro Kujo #jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #fluff #sfw #jojo #jojo x reader #comfort #jjba #jjba x reader #i'm soft for soft joot

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todoscript · 4 years

Text

monopolize

SUMMARY: Having realized Bakugou and Midoriya’s infatuation with you, Shouto decides to make a firm point at showing that you’re his and his alone.

pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader (feat. bakugou katsuki & midoriya izuku)

genre: smut. slight angst. pro hero au.

word count: 8.0k+

warnings: 18+. characters are aged up. dominant!shouto. possessive!shouto. (!!!)coercion. exhibitionism. bondage (kinda). slight degradation. praising. squirting. humiliation (bakugou & midoriya receiving).

author’s note: so the idea for this fic came to me one day while i was studying chemistry and it kinda got out of hand the moment i started writing it...haha, oops... but anyway, shoutout to rosie ( @shoutogepi ) for listening to me ramble about this and encouraging me to write this shit, love you lots babe! <333 also a reminder to please look over the warnings before proceeding, thank you!!!

If your open jaw is not enough to emphasize your shock, then the bag that hits the floor after escaping your grasp does that job for you. It also alerts the three existing presences in the room of your arrival, to which all eyes maneuver to the door of your shared bedroom, witnessing your appalled state at what is lying in wake.

Lounging on the futon, Shouto breaks your awed silence. “Welcome home, love,” he greets, warmly as per usual whenever he arrives home from work before you do.

You’re utterly surprised by how indifferent he sounds despite the two additional faces in the room. After all, it’s not every day you’d ever expect the Pro Number One and Two heroes to be here in your very bedroom, bound by what you have to assume is your boyfriend’s ice.

Unsure how to go about your reply, you instead opt to slowly walk into the room, assessing the situation. Your wary gaze darts between the angry red eyes of Bakugou Katsuki and the strained green ones of Midoriya Izuku. “I... U-Um… Shouto? What is all of this? What are Midoriya and Bakugou doing here?” You finally manage to address the elephant in the room, yet Shouto does not tackle your questions with as much haste as you are hoping.

He gets up from the bed to meet you in the middle, gathering you in his arms before his lips find your temple—the kiss he presses soft and tender, but the fact that there are two other pairs of eyes glancing over at you from such a compromising position warms your cheeks buried in his chest.

You don’t catch how Bakugou practically wrenches at the sight while Midoriya turns away, abashed. There’s hurt discerned in their expressions that can only be akin to pure jealousy. But you don’t know that. Well, not yet anyway.

“Let me explain, love,” Shouto starts, his voice a meager space away from your ear that he tucks a hair behind, “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed or not, but are you aware that these two both—”

“That’s it! I don’t have to stay here and listen to this crap!” Bakugou’s loud voice bursts out, cutting the rest of Shouto’s words short just before they fall to your ear. Watching as a fever of energy begins emitting from Bakugou’s palms trapped in the ice, the dual-haired hero quickly acts by erecting another glacier to impede the blonde’s abilities, effectively keeping him trapped there. Bakugou can only grit his teeth as he remains bound. Meanwhile, you gape at the lengths Shouto goes to prevent these two renowned heroes from leaving this space.

The chill that diffuses throughout the atmosphere of the room pairs fittingly with the frigid stare Shouto points at your guests. Ensuring the cold doesn’t affect you, he regulates your temperatures with his fire side while your body is still pressed against him before continuing. “As I was saying, these two men in front of you both harbor the same feelings for you as I do,” Shouto says. You slightly turn to meet his heterochromatic gaze with confusion written on your face, unsure what his words exactly imply.

Reading this, Shouto’s hand at your waist travels to your nape. “I’m sure you must have realized it by now, love... The way their touches linger on you for far longer than necessary whenever you meet them...” His calloused hand rubs at the back of your neck, the other traveling up your chest that yields a strained noise from your mouth.

“Or how they flirt with you whenever you visit my agency while they’re there, thinking I don’t notice. Telling you how good you look or how pretty you are.” His words meld into your skin as his lips meet below your jawline, the sensation of his nibbles manifesting your noises into frail moans that lights blushes in your spectators’ cheeks. All attempts at disregarding those cases as friendly compliments are hindered when your attention is captured by Shouto’s wandering hands and hypnotizing voice.

“Though I wholeheartedly agree with every statement, I think it’s only right of me—your boyfriend—to be a little concerned when they’re always giving you those looks.”

You bite your lip in hopes of suppressing the next noise that threatens to spill from your mouth before curiosity overtakes you. “What looks?” you pry yet not entirely ready for the answer. Shouto breaths in closely next to your ear, voice guttural and full of weight.

“Like they want to fuck you.”

His claims have your eyes blown out wide, timbre compelling goosebumps across your skin at something so vulgar departing his mouth. You try to muster out a comprehensible thought for the sake of the two heroes, but the words are drawn back in your throat. Shouto catches your guarded look.

“Now, don’t go saying they’re just being friendly with you, baby. I mean look at them. Are those the faces of two men who just want to be friends with you?”

The air has suddenly grown tense, the tension so taut it could be cut with a butter knife. Hesitantly, you shift to meet Bakugou and Midoriya’s eyes to gauge a response from them. To your surprise, all you can perceive are the sheer expressions of shame painted on their faces—red smearing their cheeks with humiliation as they can’t help but glance at anywhere else but you.

“Well?” Shouto chimes in after you’ve fully grasped the reality of the situation.

Peering into his icy heterochromatic eyes, you gulp. You know you have no right to be lying to his face, no matter how much you insist it isn’t so.

“N-No,” you admit.

A grin curves on his lips before he kisses your cheek.

“Mm, smart girl.”

Despite you waving your white flag, Shouto doesn’t stop his touches from wandering your body. He palms at sensitive areas that leave you burning. Those whimpers you’ve desperately tried to conceal unfetter from your lips when his hands inch upon skin hidden beneath your clothing. His touches are firm with a mixture of warmth and coolness that has you holding your breath. The sensations cloud your thoughts, making you forget where you are as the other presences in the room now in the back of your mind.

Midoriya and Bakugou can’t bring themselves to look anymore—can’t bear to gaze at such intimacy they can never hope to attain. Especially when your cute noises leave a twitch in their pants, a feeling they fail to cast off in shame.

“Todoroki... you made your point, now please let us out of this ice,” Midoriya says through his dry lips. Though the verdant-haired hero knows he could free himself on his own with his strength, if Shouto has anything to say about it, he’d just conjure another pillar of ice as quickly as a snap of a finger to replace the shattered ones. Considering that’s what he’s done to keep the two of them from leaving thus far.

“You can’t be fucking serious about leaving us here, Icy-Hot,” Bakugou adds with far more hostility in his tone as he shoots a glare at the red and white-haired man.

The reminder that the top two Pro Heroes are still present in the same room as you while Shouto trails his large hands at every expanse of bare flesh he can find delivers a jolt of embarrassment throughout your body. Embarrassment that somehow kindles a lick of heat in your abdomen.

“On the contrary, this is only part one of what I have in store for you two tonight,” Shouto says, lips playing on the fine line of a smirk. “In fact, I plan on ingraining in your very minds that my love belongs to me and only me by making you two watch her come undone on my cock.”

There’s disbelief throughout the room, trying to comprehend the lengths behind his words.

“W-Wait, are we really doing this in front of them?” you sputter.

“If you’re that uncomfortable about this love, then I’ll simply leave them in this room and fuck you in the next one so they can at least hear every little thing I’m doing to you,” he offers, tone descending multiple steps that rack shivers down your skin as he circles your body, standing chest to your back.

“But having an audience entices you, doesn’t it? After all, look at how wet you are.” He hooks an arm below your leg, lifting it slightly so his free hand can slip into your panties beneath your skirt, no longer blocked by your thighs clenching together. You find yourself winding an arm behind his neck to keep balance. Your eyes shut tight from both mortification and pleasure at how he strokes your slit in front of the two heroes. Sure enough, there’s an abundant amount of slick gathered at your center, the shameful squelching at your throbbing cunt not eluding anyone’s ears in the room.

“Mmm, already such a drenched fucking mess. It’s like the fact that all three of us lust for you makes you even wetter,” he whispers into your ear like a red-winged devil professing your sins to you—sins you should feel disgraceful for, yet you can’t help the exhilaration simmering in your chest. After all, having three powerful, attractive men vying for your attention is nothing short of every girl’s dream. To deny the effects this has on your body would only add dishonesty to your list of sins. Shouto takes your silence as confirmation.

Parting from your panties, he reveals his fingers coated in your shiny essence to everyone in the room. Bakugou and Midoriya water at the sight, groans stifled under their breaths as the many nights of dreaming about how sweet you taste come back to hit them all at once. The saccharine dripping between your thighs is so close, and yet so far as Shouto remains firm on his word about keeping them bound throughout his show of dominance.

Though driven in such compromising circumstances, the two Pro Heroes can’t find it within themselves to tear their eyes away from you. Perhaps in actuality, a deep, dark longing inside them secretly confesses to wanting to watch you unravel amidst the throes of pleasure, even if your undoing is due to someone that isn’t them.

“What a naughty slut you are, admitting you get off at the thought of more than one man wanting to ravage this body of yours.” His lips brush against the shell of your ear, heightening your mortification and the ever-growing wetness at your center.

“However, I’m all you need, isn’t that right, sweetheart? I’m the only man that can reduce you to this soaked, quivering mess from just my voice alone, and the only one whose cock makes your body shake with pleasure that leaves you sore for days.”

“Yes, Sh-Shouto…” you airily whimper in reply.

Shouto’s index finger presses against your trembling bottom lip, slightly smearing your slick on its plushness before he cups your face to stare directly at Bakugou and Midoriya.

“Go on then. Tell the Number One and Number Two Pro Heroes who you belong to,” he commands lowly in your ear. Before you can speak, heat ignites in your cheeks. You glance down and take note of the prominent bulges within the two’s tight clothing, their cocks positively aching to break free from the confines. The fact that the two seem to be getting off on the sight of you manhandled by Shouto is something to acknowledge.

“I… I belong to you…” Your voice wanes.

“Who? Be more specific, baby.”

“I belong to the Number Three hero, Todoroki Shouto,” you say, more clearly this time. The response is sufficient enough to satisfy the man behind you, who turns your head so your lips can connect in a passion of teeth and tongue dancing together that leaves your lungs gasping for air, detaching with ragged breaths. While you’re recovering, Shouto tugs you closer by your chin, pressing your foreheads against each other, where you gander into the depths of his gray and turquoise eyes swimming with lust.

“That’s right, and no one else is going to fuck you like I am tonight.” He sneaks a side-glance at his fellow heroes. “They can only watch as I drive my cock into your pussy over and over again, wishing they were me.”

Midoriya remains silent, letting his troubled expression speak for him, blush persisting on his face. Bakugou, on the other hand, decides to spit a few words out.

“Fuck. You.”

Make that only two words. Still, the venom dripping off each one gets his point across, in that he’s absolutely livid. But sadly for him, it has no effect on the calm and collected Todoroki Shouto.

Taking you by the hand, he leads you to the futon, sprawled out flat for your small audience to behold the entirety of your fucking tonight. Shouto kisses the back of your hand before leaving you to continue standing. He settles himself on the sheets with his arms propped behind him to view up at you as you obediently wait for his orders.

“Well, love, you know what to do. Take off some clothes for me,” he says gruffly. You oblige, slowly peeling off layers. Your skirt piles into a heap on the floor at undoing the zipper holding it in place, quickly followed by the blouse tossed over your head which leaves the remaining clothing on your body your mismatched lingerie. The dainty, silk intimates are the only thing separating you from being fully exposed to everyone.

Even given a sparing view of you from behind, Midoriya and Bakugou readily eat you up. If they somehow haven’t been undressing you with their eyes before this, then they certainly are now. Bakugou zeroes in on your pert ass, emphasized by your panties, and itches to grasp its softness in his own palms, desiring to squeeze, rub, and spank till his heart’s content.

Contrarily, Midoriya has his sights set on the clasp of your bra. What he wouldn’t give to unfasten it from your body and have the article of clothing slip off your skin, putting your beautiful breasts on display, nipples likely stiff and begging for the attention of his fingers and mouth.

It’s unfortunate for them that no such fantasies will come true tonight. After all, you don’t belong to them. You belong to Shouto.

Feeling incredibly vulnerable, you rub your thighs together to create some friction between your lower lips, trying to subside the throb growing in your belly. But you can only endure for so long when Shouto is staring at you with such scalding intensity. You’re struggling to hold onto the remnants of your dignity before it’s stripped away from you at the next command.

“Baby, you’re gorgeous, but,” Shouto hums, admiring the view for a second longer before cutting to the chase, “I want it all off.”

Not wasting any time, your thumbs hook under the waistband of the silk, quickly casting the panties to join the pile below your feet. The way your web-like slick connects your folds to the material before breaking off as your panties reach the ground does not go unnoticed. Your bra, of course, is the next to be discarded—unhooked and tossed, unveiling your tits to the chilly air.

Defenses torn down, you stand bare and exposed to all eyes in the room. You don’t miss the glint flitting in the mismatch of Shouto’s eyes, staring at you like he’s uncovered a beautiful pearl beneath the ocean. Though this is far from your first time engaging in your sexual desires with him, you always fall prey to that carnal look of his, which seemed even more lecherous tonight. He runs a finger on his lips pulled into a seductive smile, eyes piqued at your naked form.

Prickles of arousal travel down your spine. You can’t discern whether it’s the very thought of your vulnerability or the fiery looks you swear are piercing into you at every angle that has you tingling with anticipation.

Either way, such spark coursing through your veins drives you into Shouto’s waiting arms as he beckons you to him. He welcomes you onto his lap, allowing your thighs purchase next to his own while his large hands grope at your soft skin. It isn’t long until your lips meet again, Shouto coaxing—no—prying them open with his tongue as it finds yours, brushing the underside and chasing with zeal. His roughness has you at a loss for words, quite literally as all you can respond with are the airy moans leaking out between each fervent lip-lock. When Shouto grabs at one of your mounds, index finger circling your perky nipple, you let out a surprised squeak.

Your two bystanders’ dicks stutter in response at the noises, having absolutely nothing to do but watch and listen in envy. Every time they hear such a sweet succession of sounds from you, they fidget in their positions, attempting to pathetically generate some pressure against their clothes to alleviate the pain in their cocks.

Shouto does not miss the way they struggle within his periphery, smirking at their pitiful attempts to find any form of relief. At this, a sly thought flickers in his head.

With his hands on your hips, he guides your body further against his own. You find your knees supporting you up while your upper body leans over Shouto, hands gripping his shoulders to keep you steady. The position he’s led you in doesn’t grant you many options, besides obliging to be pliant in his hands.

Peeking over your shoulder, you flush with heat when you realize your ass is perked in the direction toward Midoriya and Bakugou. The troubling thoughts of whether you should feel flustered or flattered by their mesmerized state at how spread you are, hovering above Shouto’s lap, is ripped away when the Pro Hero begins cascading his hands across your skin. His palms waver back and forth within the boundaries of your ass and thighs, every now and then squeezing your warm flesh during his crossings between the two.

“Mmm, Sho…” you whine, the palpable neediness in your voice begging for him to touch your throbbing center already. Bakugou and Midoriya wish for the same, tormented by how slow he decides to take his caressing. If it were up to them, they’d already be tongue deep in your pussy already, perhaps even bottoming their cocks inside your walls, considering how soaked you must be. But no, Shouto wants this night to last. And he’s going to set the pace however he sees fit.

One of Shouto’s hands creeps beneath your leg to maneuver them further apart before his palms find their place at the underside of your poised ass. A short sigh floats amid your parted lips at how he spreads your cheeks, exposing your cunt freely to the two. You hear a groan, followed by an obscene “fuck…” that has you wondering what the view must be like from their perspective to render them so awestruck.

And man, if only you could see your pretty little cunt—wet, glistening, and fluttering on nothing, pleading for stimulation. Stimulation that Shouto grants sparingly as his middle and ring finger suddenly prod your slit, tearing a surprised gasp from your mouth while you toss your head backward.

Your slippery pussy coats his fingers in an opalescent sheen. He hums at the debauched image of your body yearning his touch. “Such a slutty, needy pussy… So messy, even though I haven’t even taken my clothes off yet.” Shouto takes the sullied fingers into his mouth, swiping his tongue at your delectable taste abiding his digits. It’s obscene how he makes a show of drinking up the honey from your thighs to taunt Midoriya and Bakugou, groaning between licks like it’s the one thing keeping him sustained. Well, then again, Shouto could probably survive on your essence for days if he tried, considering his favorite places to be is between your thighs anyway.

Head tilting in the direction behind you, you could’ve sworn you saw one of the two licking their lips while the other swallowed a large, heavy gulp. Before you can question it further, Shouto’s words resume ringing in your ear.

“It’s all for me right, love?” he asks as though he doesn’t already know the answer.

Your body quivers as he dives down to continue prodding your cunt before you can even respond properly. “Y-Yes, it’s just for you, Sho— Ah..!” You try your best to muster the words out. But his fingers give you no moment to spare. A jolt of pleasure spikes through your body as he reaches your clit, leaving your voice hanging in the air.

“Unnf... f-fuck...”

Shouto is relentless this time, attending to your bundled nerves at an excruciating rhythm that has you swaying your hips into his hands. Then all coherent thoughts are whisked away when you feel two fingers penetrating your sloppy pussy, thrusting into places you could never reach on your own, and prepping your walls for what’s to come.

“Baby, you take my fingers so well, you’re practically sucking them in,” he praises, reveling in the way you writhe in pleasure at him playing with your cunt. Whining, your legs move further apart involuntarily, allowing him deeper access.

You shake amid his ministrations, teeth pulling at your bottom lip at every sultry sensation rushing through your body. Wrinkling the fabric of his white shirt, your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails sinking deeper into clothed skin when you feel that familiar ache boiling in your abdomen.

“Your thighs are trembling just trying to hold you up. Going to cum soon, love?” Shouto asks. He chuckles at how vigorously you nod your head next to him, knowing your voice would fail you by the moans threatening to unravel precariously from your lips.

“Good, I want you to fucking scream. Show them how well you can cum from my fingers alone, yeah?” he murmurs beside your ear, not giving you much warning than that before suddenly increasing his movements on your cunt.

“Ah, Sho..! Sho!”

There’s nothing for you to do other than to chant his name over and over again like a mantra. You squeeze your fingers into his skin to make sure you don’t end up dissolving in his hands from the fire flaring inside you, threatening to melt you entirely.

And he loves every bit of the needy noises you make. Knowing it’s his name that echoes in the room around them, resounding in the very minds of his rivals who witness firsthand the way you scream out amidst the throes of pleasure—the scene better than any imagination of theirs they’ve conjured in their delusional fantasies—feeds Shouto’s ego deliciously.

The strained gasp you choke out when his lips make contact on your jawline has him smiling against you, the kisses he plants there blooming loving blemishes on your skin. You struggle to keep yourself together from all the sensations storming you at once. There’s something euphoric yet… foreign coursing through your body that you can’t discern, and you’re half-worried of what’s to happen when you reach your imminent release.

“Sh-Sho, wait..! Oh god, I’m gonna—!” you warn, but that only compels Shouto to speed up his pace in a last push for you to cum. From his bruising bites to his fingers methodically working you with skilled ease, it isn’t long until your escalating high peaks into intangible relief.

And god, the throb feels almost uncomfortable but so blissful at the same time.

The pressure builds up to an intense climax that has your walls clamping around his fingers, and your thighs shaking beside him while you yell out Shouto’s name. Holding you through every step of the way, his fingers steady inside you as you convulse around them. The ones at your clit continue rubbing your sensitive, swollen bud throughout your release to widen the intensity.

As your whole body trembles at the haze-induced orgasm, you lean against the hero for support.

“Ohhh baby...” His purrs rumble deep within his chest, an extra lick of delight in his tone. Your eyes are shut while you stumble down from your rapturous high, whimpering when Sho removes his fingers from your pulsating pussy.

“D-Did she just..?!” Midoriya questions incredulously, to your surprise.

“Fuck! I can’t believe she fucking squirted!” Bakugou follows.

At that, your eyes shoot open. You muster the energy to lift your body off Shouto’s lap and reveal to yourself the evident damp spot left on his pants from what you very much have to assume is a result of you gushing your release on him.

Trepidation creeps underneath your skin, swallowing you in mortification.

You really did that.

Squirted in front of the top three Pro Heroes in the country, making a mess on Sho’s pants with your flowing, translucent cum. The very reminder of it spouts your head with your overthinking.

“Wait, I didn’t mean to— I-I mean... I didn’t think I was ever a squirter. It’s just—”

“Love.”

A single word is enough to dispel your ramblings. You look up at Shouto like a deer caught in headlights, expression harrowed by apprehension. At that, he holds your shoulders, pulling you forward so he can press a reassuring kiss against your forehead. The tender gesture numbs the uneasy static racking through you, moving away to glimpse at the endearment hidden within the smoldering fog swirling in Shouto’s eyes.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he assures through hushed words he embeds unto your skin, hands warmly running down your sides. “Besides, you squirting on my fingers was so so sexy.” His seductive allure returns almost as quickly as it disappeared amidst his soothing tone. His touches and the extra flair in his voice makes you hot all over again despite just cumming.

“I must have made you feel incredibly good, getting you to cum so hard like that. Even giving those two over there a show. Just look at them...” Shouto whispers closely, nudging you in the direction of your onlookers whose reddening faces visibly recoil when your eyes cross. It’s as if they’ve gandered into the abyss—anxious at what’s to come yet can’t seem to look away. You flutter between their expressions, gauging their blushes and furrowed brows, before lowering your gaze at the prominent stain on the crotch of their pants, pre-cum seeping at the surface due to the arousal built watching you ruined on Shouto’s very fingers.

A part of you wonders how pent up they must be. Your curiosity dances upon lewd thoughts about how stiff their cocks are and how their lengths would look freed from the constricting clothing. Veiny, hard, and painfully red all because of you. All because of what Shouto is doing to you.

It evokes you with a newfound surge of confidence, finding solace in your sea of uncertainty. And coupled with Shouto’s loving demeanor, you don’t seem to remember what you were ever so self-conscious about to begin with.

“Look at how depraved these sad men are.” Shouto clicks his tongue, a voice in his head confirming of what he already long knew. Deep down, he at least assures himself that his former classmates are aware of their place. In which they’re only allowed to look—not touch—and if they so much as plunge into forbidden territory, he’d rise above the waters to bite their heads off. He recognizes this from just a simple inspection of their faces.

Deterring after hearing Shouto’s words, Midoriya’s eyes cast downward to the floor, brows softened with hurt. His expression is burdened upon not only stigma but guilt, lusting after a woman that isn’t even his while allowing the absurd thought he could steal you away from the fire-and-ice hero to ever cross his mind.

Meanwhile, the blonde mulls over in defeat more so than shame. Although never one to yield from a fight, Bakugou had long realized this battle was over before it even began. You were deftly out of his reach. All he can settle for now is the afterimage of your undoing played back in his head, the recording surrounded by a thick cloud of envy.

Shouto reads their compliance clearly—a wordless surrender witnessing your aftermath of pleasure. As a result, a grin surfaces his lips. Unfortunately for them, the sly devil latent inside him is far satiated. Perhaps it’s time to move onto the next course.

His fingers brush along the underside of your chin, leading your half-lidded eyes to him.

“Baby,” he says, and the way he calls to you in that low baritone makes you receptive to his every word, “why don’t you go over there and help our guests get their cocks out of their pants, hm?” You nod slowly, half-wondering if he read your mind during your indecent contemplation. Shouto kisses the corner of your lip before you stand from the futon and saunter toward the two pillars of ice resting in the room.

Your steps are slow and languid, the consistent sway of your hips hypnotizing to both sides. Reaching the two, you lower to your knees, bending forward and offering Shouto a view of your exposed cunt that still drips of your essence. He bites his lip, palming his bulge through his pants until he begins freeing himself of the unnecessary clothing that would have been discarded by now if he wasn’t so absorbed in your climax.

In the meantime, you kneel in front of the top two Pro Heroes, mooning over who to approach first until your red and white-haired boyfriend answers for you.

“Midoriya first. And then Bakugou.”

You can practically feel the fire lighting inside Bakugou at the command, knowing Icy-Hot gives the order in favor of Midoriya just to get under his skin. You do well to ignore his malice by crawling over to the green-haired hero, hovering above his bound form, and meeting his emerald eyes that are wide and fixated on your every move.

The proximity between you two has the air trapped in his lungs. He holds his breath out of fear that if he lets go, you’d vanish into a mirage. But his throat hitches the very moment your fingers trace up the fabric of his pants, disembarking across his thighs and toward his painful erection that twinges at your touch. It’s fortunate enough for him that you don’t disappear and that the sultry look you give him as you drag the zipper of his pants down isn’t a figment of his imagination. You catch a glimpse of his briefs, along with the head of his dick peeking above the waistband, still strained by a single layer of fabric.

Midoriya swears he can cum right then and there when you lightly palm his hardness—the first relieving sensation he’s felt all night before it’s surmounted by you tugging down the waistband. Cock released from its confines, it jumps forward out of excitement before slapping back against his navel. Midoriya hisses at being open to the air, his feverish skin stinging surrounded by the coldness throughout the room.

As you predicted, the Number One’s cock stands stout and protruding red at being neglected for so long. It begs to be touched.

“P-Please…” The whisper is almost inaudible, but you discern the desperation in his tone.

Midoriya’s pleading expression staring down at you nearly sways you to grant pity on him, but you know you’re given no position to do that. So sadly, you move on. The hero laments you leaving so soon, a whine quietly squeaking from him, left with nothing but his length stiff on his abs as you make your way to Kacchan.

Unlike the former, the blonde actually makes an effort to free himself one last time, a struggle you pick up on when you near him. He’s gritting his teeth together, heat slowly radiating off his body stoked by his anger. Yet that somehow all dissipates at a simple glance of your face. There’s a glassiness in your eyes that renders him silent.

His narrowed stare wanders toward your plush lips, looking so damn soft and kissable. If only he could muster the willpower to break free and move forward to capture them in his own, seal them tight so he wouldn’t have to hear Icy-Hot’s name spilling out of them anymore. But your steady gaze on him freezes him into the ice, halting his motions as if you were medusa. He hears nothing but his racing heart palpitating in his chest as he waits for you to make a move.

“Hm, Bakugou’s been a bit of a brat tonight, wouldn’t you say, love? How about you tease him a bit?” Shouto suggests mischievously.

Turning in his direction, you see him sitting on the bedding, naked and stroking his cock listlessly as he waits for you. The sight encourages you back to Bakugou’s erection to finish the task you started, thighs shuffling against each other at a glimpse of your prize between the Number Three hero’s legs.

As if you couldn’t get anymore seductive, you adjust yourself right between the blonde’s spread form, carelessly brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you bend forward, back arching. Bakugou has no idea what he’s in for, fearing for the worst knowing you plan to tease him. He starts muttering a question that never reaches your ear, the words splintering off when he deftly realizes you’re pulling his pant’s zipper between your fucking teeth. Making sure never to break eye contact with him, you drag the metal down at an excruciating pace, each tooth of the zipper undone so slowly it’s practically torture to him.

“Shit... Y/n…” he groans wantonly as you reach the end of your destination. After being contained all this time, it seems his cock wants to come out with a vengeance. You gasp when it suddenly springs past his briefs, nearly making contact against your cheek.

Bakugou sputters an filthy amount of curses, finding the image of you wincing in shock and glancing up at his thick cock towering next to your face with the tip oozing of his pre-cum to be utterly pornographic. Well if this is truly reminiscent of a porn scene, you’d be wrapping your hands around the base of his cock by now, fisting it before delightfully enveloping the tip in your hot mouth. But the call of your name behind you cracks that fantasy into pieces.

To his dismay, your attention swerves from the embossed vein lining Bakugou’s dick to Shouto’s muscular body, idle on the futon, where he gestures a finger at you. You return to your usual place atop his lap, except this time there’s no longer any barrier of fabric to prevent you two from feeling each other’s heat.

Shouto grazes his hands on your back, humming into your neck. “Well, baby, you saw how hard their cocks were. How does it feel to have the top three pros all craving you at once?”

You pause amidst your reply, the little kisses he brushes on your jugular serving to distract you for a moment. You have to ask yourself if your boyfriend is throwing a trick question at you. Giving it some thought, you decide to tackle it honestly.

“It feels... pretty good,” you murmur, a tad squeamish while he maps the expanse of your neck with his lips. It’s an answer he anticipates according to the next question he follows up.

“But of all the cocks in this room, whose do you want the most?”

“Yours, Sho.” Compared to before, your answer is given promptly. Shouto grins at how eager you are for him. “Only yours.” You affirm one last time, effectively hammering a nail into Midoriya and Bakugou’s chests. Shouto’s hands traverse your waist, then to your thighs, giving your flesh a solid squeeze.

“That’s right, you’re my fucking cock slut and no one else’s.” You almost choke when he lurches forward to grind his erection against your wet core, emphasizing your innate effect on him. Whimpering at the slippery friction of his hardness on your swollen clit, you find yourself moving in tandem with his motions.

“My my, still that needy even after you already squirted all over my fingers? Your pussy is just so so greedy for me, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yes... F-Fuck, Sho, please let me put your cock inside me. I want to cum on your cock so much!” you plead, voice rising at every insufficient jerk of your hips. It isn’t enough to just rub your sensitive little pearl against it. You need the thing inside you since yesterday, and you’re more than willing to throw your last fragment of modesty out the window to get it.

Luckily for you, your neediness seems to work in your favor as Shouto has no objections at granting you your pleasure.

“Don’t worry, baby. I told you I’d be driving my cock in and out of you in front of them, didn’t I?” He runs his fingers on the edge of your cheek, admiring the cute desperation readable over your features—eyes glazed, skin hot, and cunt positively dripping. “Of course, I intend to keep that promise. But first…” He lays you two into his favored position, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his thighs. He peers up at you while nestled back on the sheets.

“I suppose since I forced them here, the least we can do is continue giving them something to remember. It is going to be the first and last night they’ll see you like this anyway,” he reasons. The two mentioned pique hearing the statement. You yourself grow considerably hotter, realizing he’s angled you in a way that grants your audience another enticing view of your body above him.

“Well, princess, why don’t you start riding your stallion then?” Shouto incites his request as more of a command than anything else, and you begin earnestly catering to him by lifting your hips. You align his length toward your entrance. His calloused hands spread on your thighs at the anticipation of watching the head of his cock enter your wet heat.

“Ooooh yeah, keep going baby, take it all in,” he encourages through purrs reverberating in his throat. With each inch you swallow between your folds, his expression knits into pure bliss, brows narrowed at how well your tight pussy hugs his cock. He looks up and catches you slowly unraveling before his eyes. You strain to keep yourself together, eyes shut in pleasure at the delicious burn swelling in your stomach.

There’s a stifled noise parting your mouth that hangs open as you gradually envelop him to the shaft. Shouto’s thick cock slowly bottoms inside your walls and makes you feel so complete. While he lets you adjust to his sizable girth, his palms grope your skin, soothing the tense burn churning inside you.

“Mmph…” you whine, hands trying to find some leverage, laying flat on his abs. You give yourself a second, followed by another until the short pain you feel morphs into a delectable buzz.

“I… I’m going to move now, Sho,” you tell him before flitting up and down his long length, progressing tentatively. His heterochromatic eyes are dark and murky, watching his cock glisten in more of your sheen while you glide it into your pussy at a steady tempo. You make sure to take everything offered to you to the fullest, from the tip to base where his balls brush the underside of your ass. Shouto is more than endowed and you don’t ever plan on taking any part of his gift for granted.

“Mm, even after I prepped you, you’re still so tight for me,” Shouto groans, your cunt rippling waves in his body. Despite being consumed in your ministrations, you have to note how sinful he looks below you, sweat shining on his skin and tufts of red and white hair sticking to his forehead. It’s hard to believe a man as handsome as him could be so possessive with you, going through such lengths to prove to his rivals that you only belong to him. But man, do you find it to be hot. The notion once again has your cunt clenching considerably.

“It’s because—ah—you’re so th-thick,” you tell him, and in turn, he gives you a devilish smirk that adds fuel to the fire lighting in your abdomen. Before you can conjure another thought, he suddenly thrusts his hips up to meet yours, reaching a particular spongy spot that causes you to cry out.

“Why don’t we increase the pace then? Ride me faster, love. I want you to cum hard on my cock in front of them.”

Oh boy, he doesn’t have to tell you twice.

You swiftly nod, gathering some ardor in your thighs that helps you bounce more fervently on top of him. What was once subtle claps chiming in the room escalates into a concert of skins slapping against each other. Gripping your hips, Shouto meets every heavy drop with a firm thrust upward, continuing to reach the same place that induces heaven across your entire body.

Your moans are uncontained now, flittering out at how good Shouto’s cock is making you feel. The sounds are beyond intoxicating to him, like a midnight song he could get drunk on and gladly switch to repeat.

Every slam into your spread pussy steals your words away while reducing him to hissing between his teeth, your folds enshrouding him with unimaginable euphoria that has his onlookers glaring in envy.

The sight is one that Midoriya and Bakugou will surely replay throughout their wistful days after tonight. Your breasts swaying in time with your sloppy movements is a marvel to gawk at as the two implant your glazed body bouncing atop Shouto into their memories, their deluded imaginations going to work at inserting themselves into the fray.

Your hips plunging in sync at each surge of Sho’s cock has stars twinkling across your bleary vision, eyes rolling in the back of your skull. His cock penetrates you in ways no one else could, brimming your body with sublime rapture that you relay honestly in your wails.

“Fuck, you feel so good—” Shouto mutters his praises. He effortlessly keeps up his drilling and angles himself perfectly so the tip reaches your erogenous zone throughout. His hands are digging so deep into your skin, you have no doubt your hips will be daubed purple by the end of the night.

Sweat thoroughly coating his body, his aggressive rutting into your velvet walls has his cock twitching inside you. He recognizes you’re nearing your climax as well when you slowly grip him like a vise. “Gonna milk me, love? Squeeze all the cum out of me and into that slutty pussy of yours?” He asks the question through grunts he spits between his teeth, the sounds coming out on the cusp of feral growls. He’s amused by how your tongue lolls out of your mouth as you try to form any kind of response. The rampant motions make it hard for you to grasp any sense of reality other than the sensations that collide your nerves.

“Y-yes, yes! I’m so close, Sho— Please—!” The moment you have a hand on your wheel of cognition, you start begging like it’s second nature, uncaring of the other two in the room as tears dot the edges of your lashes for relief. And how is Shouto to deny you when you’re playing such a lewd act?

“Need it so bad, n-need to cum— Ah—!”

In the very next second, your body dives to where your back forcibly lands snug on the futon, choking your words to a startling puff. Shouto shadows over you, leering down like he’s sizing his prey one last time before going in for the kill.

“Hm, since you’re begging so nicely for me, I’ll gladly help you reach your bliss, baby,” he says, tongue running along his bottom lip before he resumes driving into your pussy.

He hooks his hands beneath your knees to spread you apart further, giving his cock no repercussions on pistoning forward at unbridled speeds. Your fingers delve into the sheets, gripping the cloth like it’s your lifeline. You feel your lower body slightly lifting off the bedding due to Shouto wanting you two impossibly closer, cock thundering against you.

What you’ve yet to realize—trapped within your tornado of ecstasy—is your spectators freeing themselves from the ice, glaciers reduced to pieces at their powers. The whole exhibition had been too much for them to handle, quite literally snapping their restraints. Their clothes are gone within a flash, articles of them thrown half-hazardly on the floor. It leaves nothing to stop them from finally granting some form of bliss on their neglected cocks, fisting their lengths in conjunction with your symphony of moans.

That aside, they don’t matter to you at this moment. All you have eyes for is the man above you, whose heterochromatic gaze returns your shared adoration with equal fervor, if not more so.

“Well, love, you wanna cum, right? Then you know what to do,” Shouto grunts, lowering his torso so he can close a bit of the distance between your faces, “Tell me, who’s making you feel this fucking good right now?”

Brain a scrambled mess, you’re thankful the answer you scrounge for is a simple one.

“You, Shouto! Unnf, it’s your cock that’s making me feel good!” you exclaim, your back bowing off the bed when you perceive the coil tight in your abdomen nearly about to break. Your wanton reply has him sending his satisfaction back tenfold into you through the expert rocking of his hips.

“Yesyesyes, oh fuck— Y/n, cum all over my cock! Let go, baby!”

You scream the moment the order is given, Shouto slamming into your g-spot the impetus you need to come undone in violent spasms. Firecrackers spark beneath your skin at the ecstasy hitting your every nerve. Seeing you reach the apex of your high—eyes lidded and limbs trembling as you throw your entire body into the sheets—encourages Shouto toward his release, pumping himself in and out of your fluttering walls.

“Fuck! Y/n!” he pants raggedly before snapping his hips in place, dick twitching inside you. A gasp rips your throat as you feel his thick ribbons of white cum fill you to the brim. Shouto remains inside you for a good minute longer, hovering over your sluggish, sweaty body to seize your lips in his while you two slowly descend from heaven. You move sweetly and slowly against him, savoring the moment in the presence of his tender loving.

Meanwhile, Midoriya and Bakugou have already blown their loads all over themselves, creamy spurts painting their skin. They lean back to find their groundings, unable to even speak after what was surely an excruciating event for them both.

You’re still unsure how to go about confronting the aftermath of it all, deciding to only imbed your eyes onto Shouto due to the embarrassment that starts simmering in your mind now that you’ve come down from your highs. Your fingers rise to swipe a few stray strains of damp red-and-white hair off your boyfriend’s forehead, murmuring something kept between the two of you.

“Going through all of this just because you were jealous? You sure are insatiable, Sho.”

He chuckles at the jest behind your words, giving the other Pro Heroes a once over before he comes back to you with a satisfied grin plastered on his face, making you question whether his devilish tendencies have truly left him after tonight.

“What can I say? I guess I just want to monopolize you, baby.”

#bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha smut #todoroki smut #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha imagine #bnha fic #todoroki fic #todoroki imagine #tw coercion

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darthmaulification · 3 years

Note

Hey, I want to make a request

In your Maul’s nsfw alphabet you said that he is afraid of hurting reader during sex, right? So, could you please write smth were this happens? Thank you!!

A/N: ..... anon..... the absolute Way you have me experiencing a cataclysm with this... i am imploding...

thank you very much for requesting this, it was also a very good and welcome challenge for me to write. 😊👍

hope you enjoy!! 💗

content: a lil bit o’ smut!, some angst??, but also lots of comfort and fluff!!, kinda sorta implied afab!reader??, maul commits a big oopsie on accident, crying during sex, blood and injury, maul gets angry at himself, but also soft!maul 🥺, lots of kissing, happy ending of course 🥰

word count: 2,334

Maul’s vigorous thrusting is complimented deliciously by the sloppy, desperate kisses he leaves all over the skin his mouth can reach. His crimson hands grip your wrists in a vice above your head, keeping them trapped against the bed. You moan into the sheets, arching up against him, hips tilting, silently begging him to go faster, harder, please, Maul...

“Harder, sweet girl?” Maul growls teasingly from above you, answering the plea you hadn’t realized you vocalized. He obeys, and you cry out his name when his hips clash into yours, drilling his cock into you, almost causing your knees to give from the force. The obscene yet beautiful sound of skin smacking together floats into your ears, mingling with Maul’s grunts and your persistent moaning.

Maul presses against you, the fiery skin of his bare chest flush against the arch of your back. The snapping of his hips make you rock in rhythmic tandem, and with each one you feel your peak nearing. Maul groans into the dip of your shoulder blades, his breath hot on the nape of your neck, where he licks across your flushed, dewy skin and leaves wet trails.

“Say my name again, my love.” He leaves a flat-tongued lick up your neck, nibbling at your ear. One of his hands drop from your wrists and travels down your side, rough fingers igniting sparks inside you. Maul kneads your waist, your belly, before clutching your hip. The brace allows him to further pound himself into you, and you see stars.

“Maul, Maul!” You scream his name, all high-pitched and airy, the pleasure toe-curling and promising of a powerful, sweet release. Maul exhales a rather handsome laugh into your ear, golden eyes glazed over with lust and something else wild. Eyes fluttering shut, you feel him suck a love bite into the nook where your neck and shoulder meet, arching your head back and against his shoulder.

Like a prayer, his name tumbles from your lips over and over again, the lamentation pleading and desperate. Your core throbs and clenches around your lover, a telltale sign of orgasm on the horizon. Everything seems to slow down...

But then Maul bites. Hard. Your eyes snap open.

The sinking of sharp teeth into the flesh of your shoulder is so poignant, it pierces through the thick, lustful haze and roughly pulls you back to reality. You shriek, one most certainly not out of pleasure, but actual pain. It causes Maul to abruptly pull out and back, releasing your wrists in the process. At the same time you feel the emptiness of him leaving, a white-hot fire erupts from where Maul had definitely broken the skin and you writhe.

“Ow.” The whimper escapes in one word, voice thick, as tears immediately glaze over your eyes. Blinking furiously to keep them at bay, you squirm lethargically into an upright position, sitting on your knees.

“I’m...” From behind you Maul starts to say something, but his voice cuts out when you look down over your shoulder and reach a trembling hand up to the bite. When you actually see the wound, that’s when the tears start rolling down your cheeks. It’s... bad.

The bite is a perfect oval of teeth indents and grooves, most of them deep and bleeding, the skin around them a harsh red and raised. The skin around it is an ugly mix of crimson, dark purple bruising, and pink with irritation. The entire area is swollen and pulsing with ache. Bottom lip wobbling, you trace a hesitant finger along the edge of the bite and the touch stings. You pull your hand back with a shaky gasp.

“My love, I...” Maul starts speaking again but stops and swallows. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, and you’re not exactly sure why. The tears are falling profusely now, and you shudder back heavier sobs. The room goes dreadfully silent, save for your small, quiet cries. You can feel Maul’s stare on you, more specifically on the injury he caused.

“I hurt you. I hurt you.” He repeats to himself, the tone of his voice inscrutable. He suddenly clambers up and off of the bed, the mattress shaking gently, and you listen as his footsteps disappear out of the room. The room is left thick with pain and sorrow, and also a stewing shame that was left hovering after Maul spoke. You look back at the bite after another round of tears pours from your eyes. Oh, Maul...

Footfalls sound again, and Maul reenters the room as your examining the darkening wound, particularly the trails of blood that have by now reached your waist. His heart clenches with a terrible ache, and guilt and anger bubble to the surface, stiffening him. He hurt you, he did. Maul almost doesn’t want to approach, almost thinks he shouldn’t, but you need the bacta.

You don’t look at Maul’s face when he sits next to you, though not as close he usually would, because you’re unsure if you want to see the expression that must be on it. Instead, you focus on his hands, at the wet rag, bacta, and bandages he’s holding. You also notice how his hands are quivering.

“Can I clean it?” Maul asks in an uncharacteristically quiet tone, though he’s very obviously seething with barely capped rage. That somewhat familiar self-loathing Maul gets from time to time radiates off of him, as does guilt. You sniffle, and bob your head yes. The pain is less sharp now, but the wound still needs to be dressed.

Maul says nothing as he wipes away the almost dried blood trails, or as he very tenderly dabs at the puffy wound, or when he pauses at his teeth marks that are purpling now, or even when he smears the bacta over them. The whole time, he works mechanically and in deafening silence. By the time Maul has placed a bandage over the bite, the cooling of the bacta has numbed your shoulder to a soft, dull ache and the hurt is all but gone.

“Maul...” You start softly after you feel his hands leave you, gaze climbing up his arms to his face. The shame-ridden expression on his face makes your heart sink, how his downcast golden eyes are aflame with guilt and swirling with fury. He doesn’t look at you as you turn fully to face him, and recoils when you place a hand on his cheek. His body, ever warm, is stiff beneath your touch.

“It’s okay.” You murmur and Maul’s gaze snaps up to meet yours, the anger flaring. His square jaw tenses and he shakes off your hand.

“No, it’s not. I hurt you.” And while you see and hear that familiar wrath and that unfamiliar guilt in his expression and voice, it never occurred to you before that Maul was also afraid. It makes you misty-eyed. You shake your head, shuffling closer to him.

“No, no, no— Maul, it was an accident.” You plead, placing your hands on either side of his face, rubbing circles with your thumbs. Usually, that simple touch calms him down, but this time Maul grabs your wrists and pulls his face from your grasp.

“I hurt you.” He says again, voice a hiss as he stares at you with conflicted, pained eyes, “I fucking made you cry.”

Maul suddenly leaps up from the bed, pacing across the room to roughly grab his pants off the floor. He pulls them on swiftly, and your brows furrow when he crosses the room to grab his belt and lightsaber.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he ties his belt across his waist, clipping his saber to it. He doesn’t look at you, and turns to the door.

“I’m leaving.”

“No, you are not.” You clamber up off the bed and onto your feet, stumbling slightly as you hastily make your way over to Maul. You’re able to get in front of him, planting your hands firmly on his chest and halting him. He glares down at you, angrily, sadly, and you ground yourself at look up at him.

“Move.” He growls, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Your lips turn down in a stubborn pout. Maul’s bristling under your touch, and you know you’re walking on precarious ground. But you’ve dealt with Maul’s temper enough to not have it faze you, and you’re sure you can handle his guilt the same.

“No.” You retort and you pull yourself flush against him, arms snaking around his torso in a tight hug, your eyes closing. Pressing your cheek against his chest, you sigh at the familiar warmth you love, digging your face into his beautiful crimson and black skin. Maul doesn’t wrap his arms around you in turn. You give his sternum a gentle kiss.

“Get off.” Maul’s growled order comes out as brashly and as firmly as always, but his commandeering attitude hasn’t worked on you for years. A sudden, but small, spark of playfulness curls your lips upwards into a tiny smile. You rub your hands up and down the length of Maul’s back, feeling every tight, defined muscle and occasionally the rough edge of his scar when your hand gets low enough and your pinky fingers brush it.

“Never.” Your murmur vibrates his chest, and you hum contentedly when you finally catch the lovely beatings of Maul’s twin hearts. They thrum in alternating rhythm beneath your ear, both strong and deep.

“You’re not running from me.” You speak again, eyes still closed. Maul is quiet, though you feel him lift an arm and a tender, yet firm, hand comes to rest on the low of your back. You smile fully, lightly gliding your nails over Maul’s back in the way you know he loves. His thumb starts to rub circles on your skin.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“... I was scared.”

“I know.”

You look up at Maul, eyes beneath heavy lids, your smile still bright and kind on your face. The conflict in his eyes has cooled to a simmer, being replaced more and more by that boyish, starry-eyed look he gets sometimes, the one that reminds you of how much he loves you. Maul’s other hand reaches up and cups your cheek, caressing your face. You tilt your head into the touch.

“Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?” He teases in a low murmur, honey gold eyes glimmering with rising mirth, and you quirk an eyebrow. Your hands stop to rest on his waist, just above the band of his pants. Maul’s face starts to inch in closer and closer to yours, stopping right when his lips are just above yours.

“Mm... you might have to do some convincing.” You whisper, eyes drooping further until your irises are nearly obscured by your eyelashes. Maul chuckles low in his throat, his hand shifting to place two fingers under your chin. He tilts your head up slightly, pulls you closer against him.

“How do you suppose I accomplish that?” He asks, breath puffing on your cheeks, gaze breaking from yours when he closes his eyes. You follow suit, and the tips of both your upper lips touch.

“... I can think of one way.” You say, and you tilt your head and your jaw slackens slightly, and Maul’s lips are on yours, balmy and soft. The kiss is slow, slower than he usually does, but it’s perfect and sultry and so Maul. You hum when he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to gyrate in your mouth. He explores everywhere, relearns every touch. It’s like you’re kissing for the first time all over again, lost in each other as if the years of memorizing each other’s body melted away into oblivion. Your hands clasp his waist, his one hand moves up to your mid back, and the heated, passionate kiss ends.

Maul pulls back a little more to look at you properly, tucking your hair behind your ear, and you open your eyes from the touch. He’s wearing that satisfied, lazy grin, the one that always makes him look mischievous.

“Do you still need more convincing?” He asks with a tilt of his head, though he knows the answer you’re going to give by the cheeky smile that spreads across your face. You giggles, eyes sparkling, and you nod.

“Lots.” And with that, Maul’s lips are on yours, stifling your laughter in his mouth. He smothers you with kisses, peppering your lips, cheeks, and jaw, and you do the same for him, kissing over and over until you’re sure your lips will fall off. At some point, Maul heaves you into his arms, carries you to the bed, and drops your bodies atop it.

You squeal with laughter when he rolls on top of you, trapping you between his thighs, nuzzling and kissing the side of your face. Your hands fumble at his shoulders, before sliding to his face to turn his head to you. He’s grinning between your hands, looking absolutely charmed, and you kiss him on the nose, breathy from laughing.

When you pull away, Maul’s panting and still grinning like a madman, but his wild eyes have gone somewhat tame, controlled. His eyes dart all around your face, like he’s analyzing each one of your features. He breathes an exhale, licks his lips, and meets your gaze.

“I love you.” And his voice is slightly raspy, but he says it with such conviction, so raw and passionate, that the intensity floors you. Sure, he’s said those words to you before, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it. Your eyes go slightly misty again, and you smile sweetly, fingers rubbing the bases of his horns on his temples.

“I love you.” You reply and again, Maul sinks into you with a deep kiss, and you all but melt into each other, bodies a welcoming sanctuary for the other.

#star wars #star wars darth maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #darth maul #maul #anon #anon ask #request

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asimpletroll · 3 years

Text

(A) (M) Chisaki Kai X (O) (F) Reader

You?

You were the Omega who had been stinking up his base for the last month?

YOU?

"-so sorry, so so sorry, I didn't see you, I was looking for Eri, Rappa startled her again, I swear I didn't mean to bump you-" You babble at Chisaki, close to your heat and scared of every Alpha in the base at the moment. You don't realize how his eyes have zeroed in on you, you're too busy cowering against the wall, trying to apologize and make sure he doesn't hit you, or worse.

"Be quiet." You immediately shut up, your throat feeling constricted even though he didn't use his Alpha tone or his Quirk on you, you look at him with watering (e/c) orbs as he strides over, taking off his coat slowly. "Your slick is dripping. I'll have someone else look for Eri, you need to get to your nest."

"...I...I live in the barracks, I-I can't-"

"Then come with me." He wraps an arm around you with care he never uses, making sure to keep his coat (you're so small it drops nearly to your knees, and Chisaki is swooning on the inside at how cute you look) between the two of you and wrapped securely around you so that no one else sees your current...predicament.

Chisaki notices your fear increasing, almost every step towards his private wing making you pump out more and more fear in your scent.

Normally, he can't even smell you, which is mildly disappointing to him because you smell citrus-y and a little sweet, but it was always very subtle and clean.

Now, all he could smell was your fear, and the urge to hole you away from everyone and everything was making him very twitchy as he opens the door to his wing.

You instinctively pause upon the threshold, your Omega screaming that this means this Alpha likes you, that it was time to Mate. Chisaki waits for you patiently, knowing the battle you're fighting and being fascinated by the micro-expressions racing through you. Your pupils twitch slightly in every which way, your ears perk and shift a little with noises, and your nose wrinkles a little (like the bunny he had as a child would) as you get particularly stressed.

"I cannot find you someplace comfortable if we loiter for much longer." He finally speaks up and tells you, you flinch a little, but follow his unmentioned command of 'hurry up' and almost bump into him again as he closes the door.

As soon as it shuts, lights flick on, and this time he gently wraps an arm around your waist as you spook. He gently lets you recover from your heart attack adjust to his touch, then guides you past several rooms that reek of other Alphas to you, and the locks on the door along with how reinforced they are tell you all you need to know about what might be in those rooms.

"I am unfamiliar with creating a space for a Heat, but I understand you require lots of blankets and soft things?" Chisaki asks you lowly, he spots the tiny hairs on the back of your neck rising, and your own scent smells sweeter, even with the fear overlaying it.

"Yes." You whisper, and try to hide (due to his lack of comment, you guess you hide it) the fact that you get mildly horny at just his voice.

Chisaki is amused by this, mostly by the fact that your entire face had turned red and was a very clear indicator of your dilemma to him.

"Why are you so afraid, Omega?" He asks you conversationally, as if he had by total and complete accident of course not dropped his voice several octaves just fool with you. You repress a shiver, and he grins under his mask, a very feral and smug grin, as he gently inhales your sweetened scent a bit more.

"M-My parents...they didn't...didn't want an Omega...didn't want me...so they would destroy my nests...even before I was revealed to be Quirkless..." You murmur quietly, timidly almost, to him, and he feels himself harden at how perfect you were for him.

"Why would they do that? Children smaller than four years old require softness or they are in danger of chewing something into pieces or eating it whole." Chisaki keeps his voice low, loving how you try and repress another shiver, and your pheromones almost choke him as he tries to gently sniff them again.

If you two didn't find an appropriate area soon, he may simply take you to his den, which would be twice as dangerous for the both of you.

"I...I don't know...it was...mildly better...after my little brother was born. He was a boy, an Alpha too, and he had a Quirk." You tell him, trying to make your clenching pelvic muscles stop their ridiculousness. Chisaki is too busy rolling his eyes to notice that you're starting to hold on to his coat a little tighter to try and hide the fact that your pants are officially soaked through.

"Oh...they're those types of people..." Chisaki says, his voice the lowest yet in barely-withheld rage, and a pitched whine escapes you before you wrap a hand around the base of your throat. Chisaki almost walks into a wall in surprise, you immediately sidestep as he steadies himself.

"I'm sorry-" You immediately return to the babbling mess you were in the hall, trying to appease him when even you can tell he isn't angry, in fact, if the crinkles by his eyes are any indicator, he's smiling under his mask.

But you're scared. And horny. So you run your mouth without thinking, apologizing frantically before he gently wraps his arm around your waist, he gently tugs you close to him, you keep your eyes averted and lowered to the floor, but he removes his face mask entirely in order to kiss your forehead gently.

You clench the hand around your throat tighter as he re-places his mask back on his face, he then runs a hand through your short hair tenderly. You look up at him from under your eyebrows, your lashes dark and long and thick as they frame your gorgeous (e/c) orbs.

"You simply startled me, there is no reason to apologize." He rumbles to you, his voice much lower now as his Alpha starts to really push for some attention. He watches with amusement and arousal as you clench your legs together, the slick now dripping low enough for him to see it, even with his jacket around you. "But may I ask you something?"

"Y-Yes, sir." You squeak, Chisaki goes from hard to full-blown, raging erection, you can barely hear him inhale, a very subtle noise that doesn't quite click in your mind until he presses the two of you together.

"...have you ever had an Alpha before?" He purrs, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head and all the fear leaves you immediately as you melt into him. "I'm guessing not."

"N-None o-of them-" You squeak slightly in indignation as Chisaki plucks you up from the floor like a ragdoll, gathering you into his chest and not minding your wet and sticky slick soaking into his chest. "-None of them ever w-wanted a Q-Quirkless Omega."

Chisaki is immediately disappointed, not in you or anything about you, but at the rest of society for letting such a sweet and pure thing sink so low as him.

"They were fools then, and did not deserve you." Chisaki turns down a hall, and it's getting very hard for you to not nuzzle him. His musky, beautiful scent was everything you've ever liked, blended together in such a complex way you couldn't describe all of the unique notes and subtle tones of it. Chisaki notices you eyeing his neck and gently presses your face into it, you let out a startled, but pleasantly so, squeak, and he purrs for real this time at the adorable noise.

Your slick surges and you let out a much higher-pitched purr, leaning in against him as he opens a door quietly, the hall light flicks off and leaves you in darkness before Chisaki gently closes the door with his heel. You've buried your face in his neck, blinding yourself to the fact that Chisaki has brought you to his room, his den and haven.

At least, until his no-longer-gloved hands sneak their way under his jacket, undoing a single button on your shirt to lay themselves on your bare waist. You gasp softly in surprise, moving your face from his neck just enough to give him a startled look.

He nuzzles you, closing his eyes and leaning his back against the door as he openly relaxes, holding you close while gently fondling your slightly-chubby-but-not-noticeably waist.

"C-Chisaki?" You squeak, one of his hands immediately rolls your shirt up and off of you, you squeak again in surprise, but he tossing your shirt and his coat haphazardly onto the floor. You immediately cover your breasts, your face once again blushing strongly, and he quickly does away with his masks as well, hanging them on a hook by the door as he gently turns your face to his by tenderly grasping your chin.

"I want you, Omega. I want you, (Y/N)." He rumbles, striding forward as you turn into a flustered, slicking, horny mess in his arms. His voice is like pure sex but only the deep, tasteful, romantic parts of it.

You mewl a little as he gently places you on his bed, but he rests his arms by your head and kisses you deeply, swallowing anymore noise with tenderness and care. You forget about your embarrassment as he gently move his lips against yours, his cock straining against his pants and pressing up against your legs a bit as he leans over you.

"Do you want me also?" Chisaki murmurs to you once the two of you run out of air to suck from each other's lungs, you immediately wrap yourself around him tightly. "Do you want me like I want you, (Y/N)?"

"Yes, Chisaki, yes I want you-" You don't get another words out as he kisses you again, his hands easily finding and undoing your bra before starting on the buttons of his shirt. Once you run out of air, he starts kissing the underside of your jaw as you pant quietly, he has to pause (his frustration visible) in order to pull his shirt off. You immediately touch the intricate, but traditional tattoos on his arms, pecs, and (you're willing to bet) his back. "You're so pretty, Chisaki."

"So are you, (Y/N), you just don't have art to paw at." He purrs as he descends on you again, you happily undo his tie for him as he kisses you, and the fact that you fumble with it from the distraction of kissing is adorable to him, and he can feel a small wet patch grow do to his leaking precum. You two pause again, and he attacks your throat and neck with powerful sucks and languid swipes of his tongue as you grind your clothed sex against his.

You gasp quietly when he whips your bra across the room, but he gently fondles one breast and you turn into a melty mess again. He chuckles, happily going back to his network of hickies trailing down your throat and across your shoulder. You happily tangle your hands in his hair, pressing him against you further with soft mewls of encouragement.

"A-Alpha, stop teasing!" You finally reach your breaking point, Chisaki almost rips your dress slacks in his immediately eagerness to get them off of you, you giggle a little and he blushes, burying his face in your neck before you tempt him out with kisses to his cheekbone and nose and the tip of his ear.

Then he actually rips them, his face morphing into one of shock and embarrassment as you giggle loudly and nuzzle him. He mumbles a hasty apology before eagerly pulling them off you, taking your panties with and tossing the mess by the foot of the bed before crawling up your body and trailing lazy kisses up from your bellybutton.

"Why are your pants still on?" You tease, kissing his nose before he can reply, he nips your bottom lip playfully, stilling feeling you up as you squirm gently.

"So impatient, (Y/N)." He teases right back, gently tugging on one of your nipples, you steal another kiss from him as he other hand (that is not forming a bruise on your nipple, not at all, no siree) trails down and teasingly circles your puffy little clit. You gasp in surprise, and Chisaki happily presses forward and slips his tongue and one finger into you at the same time. You melt into a happy, horny, submissive puddle under him, causing him to let out a deep and rumbling purr as he explores your mouth with fervent heat and dominance.

He gently explores your opening too, feeling you flutter around that single digit and getting painfully hard in his pants as he stretches you around a second finger. Your slick makes it easier, but it's still painfully obvious that you are still new at this. (So is Chisaki, but he's hoping you're too horny and heat-addled to realize this.)

You eagerly spread your legs a little, beyond ready for this part as your fingers once again find their way into Chisaki's well-kept hair and tangling it. You moan as his two fingers start to gently stretch you, you can feel Chisaki smile into the kiss a little before it goes from 'romantic exploring' into a creature of teeth and tongue and lots of purring from you both.

Unfortunately, Chisaki knows that you still need prepping, and as much as he enjoys the savage kiss, he separates to let you breathe and whimper and mewl as he continues to stretch you. (Both of you think this is taking a while, but this hasn't even been ten minutes since your butt hit his mattress.)

You surprise him when you nip his ear, but he happily turns your head and sucks on the tender skin underneath one of yours, returning you to the panting, mewling puddle. Your slick has surged so many times, his entire hand is covered up to his wrist, and he hasn't even gotten knuckle-deep yet.

"Such a messy Omega, (Y/N), look at what your naughty cunt has done to my hand." Chisaki purrs absolute filth into your ear, and your eyes roll slightly as you let out a porn star-worthy moan, his hips grind up against you exposed inner thigh roughly as he lets out a possessive growl. "Tell me, my messy Omega, who's making you so wet?"

"You, Chisaki, you are, Alpha!" You mewl, he slips a third finger in, starting to actually move deeper into you as you moan again, he happily continues to dirty-talk in your ear, telling you that this would have happened a lot sooner if you had told him that you were an Omega, he would have gladly bent his little nanny over his desk anytime. Or maybe he should've made you Present yourself to him, without any pesky suppressants to quell your scent, then he would've seen what a messy little cunt that hide itself in such a clean, proper suit would've been capable of.

Or maybe he should open the door, let the entire base hear you get railed.

You dissolve under him, not realizing that he's dissolving right with you, pulling his head closer to you as he finally extracts his fingers and simply Overhauls the rest of his clothes off. (Speaking of, where are your shoes? You swore you had them on in the hall, but your feet are bare now.)

"(Y/N), this may sting." Chisaki whispers into your ear, his head nudging your entrance gently, you tuck your face into his neck tightly, but you aren't afraid, simply nervous.

It does sting, but only enough to make you gasp a little, and that gasp is mostly from shock at Chisaki's sheer size. His girth and length were both big, and while he knows you've never had an Alpha before, this still made his already huge ego blimp.

"Chisaki, Alpha, you're huge." You pant into his neck, he struggles to fit himself into you, and you can feel the veins throbbing against your walls as he slowly sinks in, inch by inch, and you mewl once he reaches your G-spot. You pant against his skin as he slowly bottoms out in you, you can feel him twitching inside of you, but you were seeing stars anyway. "A-Alpha-"

"Sh, (Y/N), you need to adjust, Omega." He purrs into your ear, but his cock twitches strongly inside you at the thought of wrecking you severely, to where no man or Alpha could ever satisfy you again. "You're like a vice, Omega, you're squeezing me so tightly. What will happen when I blow my knot, hm? You're so small, I could break you in half with it."

You let out a sinful noise that Chisaki can barely recognize as an orgasm as you sink your teeth into his neck a little. You wrap your legs around his slim waist, anchoring him to you as your walls try to milk him through your orgasm.

"I can't wait for that sound to be my name, to hear you scream so hard the walls rattle-" This kick-starts his dirty-talk again as you slowly calm down, occasionally he shifts his hips, stimulating you just enough for you to know he's teasing you again. You actually clamp down on him and he buries his face in your shoulder with a groan that could make millions, and he slowly grinds against you.

"Naughty Omega, you naughty, naughty Omega." He rumbles from your shoulder, you pant happily in his ear, every deep, slow roll of his hip making you see stars all over again. "I should punish you for that, you naughty thing."

"Then punish me." You pant in his ear, the lick up the shell of it as he groans again, pushing a little harder against you this roll, "Punish me Alpha, make me regret teasing you."

Chisaki rumbles, he drags his hips out, and you expect another languid roll that hits all the right places, but he slams into you like a bullet-train instead.

You try to gasp in surprise, but he smirks against you skin, and that is the only warning you have before he starts pistoning his hips into yours at barely-human speeds.

"Gladly, Omega."

You open your eyes, sprawled out across Ch-Kai's chest, your face nuzzled under his chin softly as he continues to sleep while fully sheathed in you. You blink slowly and lazily a few times, trying to remember what day it is, and yawn quietly as you ponder. Kai shifts under you slightly as he stirs, you gently press your face back into the comfortable position you two had.

"How long have you been awake, (Y/N)?" He purrs at you, gently nuzzling you back as you yawn quietly against his throat. "Not long, sleepy-head?"

"Of course not, or I would've brought food." You sit up a little, your fresh Mating Mark stinging slightly as part of the coverlet falls off that shoulder. Kai gently licks it, you hum and kiss the side of his face gently. "If my math is right, today is Kurono's turn to make breakfast, he usually does something simple, like Omurice."

"Yes, but breakfast requires getting out of bed." Kai mutters, gently pulling you back down on his chest, you muffle a laugh at him as he settles his chin on the top of your head. "What? Eri was right when she called you the perfect cuddle-partner, as it turns out."

#soft #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #bnha villains #overhaul #bnha smut #mha smut #villain smut #overhaul smut #omegaverse #bnha omegaverse #a/b/o

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oddaodd · 3 years

Text

· Heedless Words That Numb The Heart ·

Request: By anon “Regarding that last text post you reblogged, could you write something where Tommy gets angry (he doesn’t really yell, he just snaps) at his very sensitive wife and she gets very upset so he wants to apologize but let’s be honest he sucks at talking so he tries to make it up to her somehow (you can choose whatever you want but I saw somewhere that Tommy’s love language was physical touch so 🤷‍♀️) I’m sorry if it doesn’t make a lot of sense I’m frozen so it’s hard to think lol but thanks anyway 💕”

Author’s note: I feel this turned out a lot more sad than intended, I just couldn’t help myself. Irregardless, I hope you like it and i wish you the loveliest of days ❤️

Warnings: season 4 SPOILERS, mentions of death and sad themes.

Tommy was being reckless, more than usual after John died. That was just the way he was, his emotions rarely manifested themselves in the form of tears and raw vulnerability, he much preferred numbing his mind with intricate heedless plans and the occasional drug. Y/n however got a glimpse of that vulnerably when he came out of the morgue after seeing John’s lifeless body.

“We should talk about it, Tommy. it’s not like nothing happened” she suggested after a particularly tense family meeting. Everyone had left afterwards, leaving only her and Tommy in the shop.

“I don’t need to” he said clearing his throat as took a cigarette to his lips and smoothly lit it.

“Ignoring it won’t make it go away, you know?” She threaded lightly.

“Oh really? Because that is exactly what I was hoping. What ever will I do now that I know that ignoring it won’t bring John back, eh?” He spat sarcastically.

His tone taunting and patronizing, making Y/n feel stupid.

In her own mind she was in no place to feel hurt not when the one who needed comfort was him, but she couldn’t help but feel the burn of his sharp words not even when she knew they came from a place of pain. Thinking of what to say next she stared at him wearing a puzzled expression. An expression should have told Tommy about the effect of his words, an expression that begged him to stop but he continued.

“What would you know about loss anyway?” He asked daggers in his eyes as he took an aggressive drag from his cigarette “you’ve never lost anything in your life so don’t come lecturing me about how I should be dealing with it”

Her lip trembled a bit “Alright”

Giving up she walked out of the room and then the building. If he didn’t want to talk she wouldn’t make him. She had never been good with confrontation and he knew it. Y/n was a very sensitive woman and the moment she walked out of the room, Tommy felt the weigh of his reply pressing down on his chest, she was only trying to help after all.

Her unsure steps walked her to The Garrison where she was welcomed with a couple of drinks from Harry as they engaged in conversation at the bar. At some point he payed his condolences over John after pouring a pint of beer for a man and Y/n felt a pang of pain shoot through her body. Maybe she was the one who needed to talk about it, she had never been good handling death.

So, Harrys comprehensive ear was the one that received all of Y/n’s qualms regarding her brother in law’s death. Some tears were spilled but nobody dared to stare for long, people even avoiding going up to the bar to ask Harry for a refill because they all knew the crying woman was Thomas Shelby’s wife.

When she arrived home a few hours later she was surprised to see Tommy already there, drinking whiskey by the fireplace. A sense of relief washed over his body the moment she stepped over the threshold. He knew the Changrettas couldn’t get to her in Small Heath, but he wasn’t sure if she would want to be in his presence after his harsh words.

“Im going to bed” was all she said before making her way upstairs and into Tommys old room with heavy legs, a few moments later he was there with her, asking her to look at him with a tender voice.

Uncertain eyes met his turbulent ones as his finger softly traced her cold cheek.

“Im sorry” he said “I shouldn’t have… “

But the Y/n’s index finger flew to his lips with a soft “shhh” The alcohol behind the abrupt action that stopped him from saying anything else.

“It’s alright, Tom” she said “we don’t have to talk about it”

And then she let herself rest against his chest, he immediately engulfed her in his warm embrace before helping her get into bed, holding her close against him through the night. When Y/n woke up the next morning with the premonitory ghost of a slight headache, she was relieved to find a glass of water and a pill laying on the nightstand next to the bed.

Tommy was nowhere to be seen, but when she made her way downstairs she found breakfast on the table along with a note from him saying he wouldn’t be long.

The food felt like a piece of heaven, the exact same breakfast she had taught him to make when they had just started dating. A lone butterfly fluttered in Y/n’s stomach at the realization that he still remembered how to make it.

He picked her up a few hours later and drove to an open field where John’s funeral would take place. As the caravan burnt Tommy’s hand went to hold hers, his fingers intertwining with hers. His thumb tracing occasional circles against the back of her hand.

They had Christmas dinner at Charlie’s yard after the ceremony. Everyone seemed lost, unable to ignore the wailing of an empty chair, but being together after almost a year of not even talking to each other summoned a light mood to settle over the table as everyone ate.

Soon enough, conversations and drunken banter began flowing through the food Charlie and Johnny Dogs had cooked. Y/n smiled at the toasts and laughed occasionally at the things that Finn said and for a second it almost felt as it all did before Tommy’s plan from the previous year tore the family apart.

The weight of Tommys hand resting on her thigh and occasional peck to the lips provided Y/n with a warm feeling of love. Resting her head on his shoulder, they watched the urban skyline of small heath turn orange and then blue.

That night he made love to her in his old bed and just before she succumbed to sleep after an exhausting day Tommy’s raspy voice disrupted the silence that had settled amongst them.

A small “I love you” was pressed against her soft lips.

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz

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paperpocalypse · 3 years

Text

white rabbit.

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”: 2. Tucking the sheets around them when they stir during the night.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,874 words

Warnings: Swearing, panic attack

His idiot siblings are going to give him a goddamn aneurysm.

The hum of the Commission briefcase – which is now in 2019 without a single person attached to it – rings in Five’s ears, mocking. He resists the urge to scream and tear all of his hair out. All that work – wasted!

“Now what?” Luther asks as Five paces up and down the alley.

What do you think, you doorknob? “Now nothing, Luther, all right? Make your peace with God.”

“What? What about Allison and Vanya?”

“Screw them both. They should have been here.” Five’s irritated pacing turns into a run, and he furiously kicks a cardboard box. God, the alley smells like vomit and shit. Everything is shit! “Ugh!”

“What about Diego?” Klaus slurs out his two cents from his place on the ground. Useless puke bag. “He's quite a responsible young man, no?”

“Something must’ve happened to them,” says Luther.

Fuck that. Wherever they are, they’ll be dead soon enough. Does nobody understand that? Dead! Dead! Dead!

“Screw Diego, all right? Screw everybody!” Five seethes. “[Y/n] and I were better off in the apocalypse.”

He turns on his heel, trying to suppress the rising panic in his bones. Something catches his arm.

Your brow is furrowed when he meets your gaze, mouth set in a thin, worried line. “Five,” you murmur, voice soft.

A tiny sting of regret worms its way into his chest at your expression. But then he thinks of the briefcase, and the Handler, and he quickly looks away.

“Five!” Luther admonishes, casting you a concerned glance. “Come on.”

His brother’s tone grates on the last of Five’s nerves. Gritting his teeth, he advances on the large man. Your hand slips away.

“You know what, Luther? It's every sibling for himself now.” Five throws his arms out in a grand gesture, then makes his way over to the door. “How ’bout that?”

Yanking the door open, he storms into the building.

Five tries to think as he stomps up staircase after staircase, but he can’t hold onto a thought for more than a few seconds before it disappears into a muddle of static. Concentrate. He just needs to get to the flat and think of a new plan, yeah, again, and try to save the world for the millionth fucking time – he stumbles over a step and then rights himself, legs numb. His chest feels tight. Come on. Keep moving. Think, think! God!

You’re calling his name. He doesn’t answer.

There is another way. A Hail Mary. But what if they waste that last chance too?

He swears underneath his breath, heart pounding. Blood roars in his ears. He tightens his grip on the railing and tries to even out his breathing.

Shit. Now is not the time. He needs to get out of this stairwell. Everything is so cramped and it’s not helping at all –

“… Five.”

You’re behind him, and then you’re in front of him, and Five meets a blurry set of eyes for the second time. Breathe. Breathe.

“Do you want to go back outside?” you ask softly.

No more stairs. “Flat,” he manages to reply, gesturing messily at the door a few feet away. Just somewhere with some space. In. Out.

You nod.

Several minutes later, he’s sitting on the bed in the room that Elliott had given him, blazer folded over the footboard, face damp with sweat and tucked into the crook of your neck as he completely breaks down.

Your hands treat him gently, rubbing circles into his back and wiping his face. He grips your shirt until his knuckles are white.

“You can get through this,” you say to him. “Just breathe with me, okay?”

Five tries. He really does. A shudder wracks his body. You inhale. He inhales. Exhale. Exhale.

“Good job.”

Something wet runs down his cheek. Fuck.

Both relief and shame fill him when you dry his cheek with your sleeve.

It’s absolute shit, however long it lasts – Five doesn’t know how long. Too long. But you’re there the whole time, holding him like you’ve done before, and it helps even though he’s too embarrassed to admit as much. You help a lot.

As the hammering in his chest finally slows to dull thuds, he takes in another deep, slow breath, and loosens his grip.

“I’ll get you some water?” you ask. He moves his head in some semblance of a nod. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

Carefully, you detach yourself from him; the mattress creaks as you stand up and leave. Five swallows, staring down at his hands. The air feels slightly chilly on the side of his face that had been pressed against you, and he uses the comforter to quickly scrub away the dampness. His eyes ache.

You return soon enough with a glass of cold water. He sips slowly at first, then gulps the rest of it down. You put the empty glass onto the nightstand and brush his hair away from his eyes.

“You need to rest.”

The word brings a brief wave of longing. Then stress follows soon after, and Five steels himself. “I need to come up with another plan,” he mutters.

Even though he’s not looking at you, he feels the sudden burn of your gaze as you put your hands on his shoulders. “After you rest.”

“The apocalypse –”

“Is still a few days from now.” Your words take on a honeyed, coaxing tone. “There’s not much else we can do today, so sleep. Please. I’ll take care of things while you’re away.”

You press down, and despite his previous protest, Five doesn’t resist.

“… Thanks,” he vaguely hears himself mumble.

When his head touches the pillow, it feels as if all his muscles give way. His eyelids immediately feel heavy.

The last thing he’s aware of is you taking off his shoes.

—

Five is thoroughly conked out by the time you pull the blankets over him, and after giving his forehead a tender peck, you tiptoe out of the bedroom and shut the door with a quiet sigh.

Now on to business.

The rest of the Hargreeves siblings, as well as Sissy and Harlan Cooper, sit up slightly as you stride into the living room. You make a point of looking at each one of them individually, cross your arms, and then speak.

“I believe explanations are in order.”

Diego is the one who speaks first. “I ran into Lila,” he says, maintaining eye contact with you. “She tried to drag me to the Commission while I was burying Elliott.”

“I see,” is all you say. “Allison?”

“Some men came in and attacked Ray and me at the house,” she explained. “Otherwise, I would have been on time.”

“Did you kill them?”

“I made them leave.”

“All right. Vanya?”

“Carl called the police to stop us on the way here. I had to deal with them.”

Sissy and Harlan are not supposed to be here. Based on the hard look Vanya is giving you, she knows that. You close your eyes and breathe out softly.

“All right. Well, I can’t change the past, and the briefcase is already lost, so I’m not going to shout about how everything should’ve gone,” you eventually tell them, eyebrows drawn. “I just want to talk to you about Five.”

“What's wrong with him?” Diego asks.

Klaus answers for you. “He’s pissed.”

Luther agrees solemnly. You frown.

“He’s stressed. Yes, he’s angry, but he’s mostly stressed and worried sick.” You uncross your arms. “Do you know what he did to get that briefcase?”

The siblings blink at you.

“He assassinated the board of directors,” you say. “I know you don’t know much about the Commission, but what he did was a big deal and very dangerous. And he did it for you. He does everything for you, because you’re his family, and he cares about you.”

“He has a hard time showing us,” Diego mutters.

“And you guys seem to have a hard time showing him,” you return. “It just … it feels like you see the apocalypse as Five’s problem. And maybe mine as well, but not yours. I understand that you’ve had to adapt and make a life here, but none of you except for Sissy and Harlan belong in this time. Whatever we’ll have to do from now on will require all of us to stay together. We can’t risk another doomsday.”

“Doomsday?” Sissy speaks up, alarmed. “What’s this about a doomsday?”

Vanya shifts. “It’s …” She touches Sissy’s hand gently. “It’s kind of a long story. I’ll tell you later, okay? You and Harlan don’t have to worry about it. We’ll fix it.”

“We will,” you confirm, nodding at the pair. “As long as everyone does what they’re supposed to.”

Luther looks at you curiously. “Why are you telling us all of this and not Five?”

Why, indeed. Glancing back in the direction of the bedroom, you think of Five tucked away in bed for the first time since he landed in Dallas. Hopefully, he hasn’t snuck out. You’ll have to check on him soon.

“He’d be too stubborn to admit it. It took me a long time to find out how much he sacrificed to help me in the apocalypse. And the Commission.” You smile frankly. “What’s more, he’s resting now. It’s been a long two weeks.”

“Shit,” Klaus mutters. “I forgot about the time thing. The old man must be one apocalypse away from a heart attack.”

“Yes. He’s not invincible.”

Everyone looks down awkwardly.

“We’re sorry for not making it. We didn't know. And we’ll tell him that.” Allison folds her hands tightly in her lap. “So what do we do now?”

Again, not much. Shrugging, you gesture to the couches and chairs that they’re sitting on. “Rest. Get cleaned up. Five and I will need to explore our options once he’s awake.”

With that, you turn and start making your way back to the guest room.

Vanya’s tentative voice stops you when you’re halfway through the kitchen. “Let us know when he wakes up?”

The other siblings voice their agreement. A genuine smile touches your lips. “I will,” you answer, pleased.

The murmuring in the living room fades as you continue walking. When you reach the bedroom, you gingerly open the door and poke your head inside.

Five is exactly where you had left him, tucked in with the blankets up to his chin and dead to the world. Soft snores reach your ears as you creep closer. Good. Seating yourself at the edge of the mattress, you run your fingers through his hair.

For the rest of the evening and most of the night, you watch over Five, keeping quiet and re-tucking the sheets around him whenever he stirs. He doesn’t open his eyes once. His siblings drift in occasionally, individually or in pairs, each of them looking every bit like they’re entering a lion’s den until you smile and beckon them closer. None of them speak, but they don’t need to. You can only hope that Five won’t be too angry with them in the morning.

A lot of work will need to be done then. But for now, your partner needs to sleep.

#wordless ways to say i love you #source: @50-item-writing-prompts #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves imagine #the umbrella academy five #the umbrella academy #tua #five x reader #five imagine #tua fanfic #fanfic #reader insert #fluff #hurt/comfort #tw panicking #tw panic attack #fem!reader #five x fem!reader

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