#whew this is long y'all I'm so so sorry
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My two cents on Daemon and Rhaenyra's Sexual encounter
I'm nobody but I have a lot of thoughts about what went down between daemon and rhaenyra and the motives on Daemon's end so I'm just gonna put it all down here because why not.
So I've come to the conclusion that Daemon's actions are not abusive (contrary to what the creators said), not about a quest for the throne, and not completely without malicious intent.
I think to truly understand it all and how it fits into the story you have to understand a few key things:
Daemon has psychogenic erectile dysfunction ( more on that later)
Daemon has an unending desire to upset Viscerys but he actually does love him
Daemon cares about Rhaenyra deeply and always has
Daemon is sexually attracted to Rhaenyra
Daemon is impulsive and manipulative but he's not a complete idiot
When you combine all of those character points for Daemon his behavior this episode makes a lot more sense to me.
(if you know me from other fandoms you know I'm long winded so proceed at your own discretion lol )
Let's go back to the very beginning of the episode. Daemon returns from the stepstones. He's now a war hero. He's known as the dragon that conquered the narrow sea and saved the realm a headache. This is the most praise and adoration he's gotten in a long time. He makes a show of giving up his crown to Viscerys and pledging fealty to him once again and he smugly looks at otto when he's embraced by his brother again.
To me this is important because I believe Daemon's actions here are genuine at that moment. The creators said in this scene Daemon seems like a changed man to the audience which I can see on casual viewing BUT is he truly a changed man? The narrative proved that to be a huge no and really that was the only conclusion when none of his actual gripes with Viscerys have been resolved. Plus what's so different about Daemon now? When has Daemon ever not supported Viscerys's claim as king? When has he ever publically done anything but swear loyalty to his brother since he was crowned (no comment on dead baby aegon, he got no love from daemon lol). Nothing about it truly screams Daemon is changed so why does he do it? My opinion is that it shows he didn't actually go there to be duplicitous. He didn't return pretending to be someone he's not to deceive everybody. That's important in the bigger picture.
So Daemon hasn't changed BUT something has in fact changed in King's Landing. Rhaenyra.
Rhaenyra is happy he's back. She actually follows him in the throne room. She wants to see him. In the garden, she approaches him first with the giddy but tries to play it cool presence of someone with a huge crush. She is starry-eyed in his presence and is eager to engage with him. Daemon looks at her walk away in the garden. His eyes are on her in part because he's curious (he noticed her stiff interactions with her father) and because it's the first time he's seen her in years and she's a woman now but he doesn't follow her. I think they deliberately showed us that in most ways that matter before the sexual encounter Rhaenyra is the chaser, not Daemon. That matters. Later Rhaenyra finds him again and he's soaking in the air in KL, another indicator that Daemon is possibly relieved to be home and is not here to cause chaos. Rhaenyra even straight up asks him why he's there because she knows him, she knows he likes to play games with her father so there has to be an agenda but is there? He says the comfort of home. I personally don't think there is one on his mind at that moment. The key part is he acknowledges her maturation for the first time and he discusses it in the context of physical appeal. She's blossomed into a beautiful young woman entering the stage of courtship. He notices. She realizes he notices.
They've always had a bond. She's always had a special hold over him and she's always looked at him like he hangs the moon but it was never something with any real clarity for Rhaenyra and never something that Daemon would ever acknowledge or act on but that's changed it has been 4 years. She's at least 18 now. She's at the stage of life where romance and sexual curiosity makes a bit more sense now even if she's still unsure about how to navigate that as a woman in westeros. So yeah It's different between them. Rhaenyra has changed and most of all they are both curious about what this tension is between them and how far it can go.
Before I move on to my next point I want to make sure I'm not misinterpreted here. I'm not saying Daemon has been creeping on her this whole time just counting the days until she's of age. I don't think he's ever said to himself "when she's 18 I'm totally gonna have sex with her". I don't think he has the thought to go there sexually with her until the moment he actually sees her again after she's matured.
That brings me to their one-on-one in the garden. This is an important part because I feel like Daemon's intentions after this conversation can make his actions somewhat within reason or absolutely horrible. Rhaenyra is very candid with him about her frustrations with having to marry. She feels like a broodmare with no sexual autonomy at all, just a pawn to be sold to the highest bidder for the use of her womb and her title. She feels like no one cares about what she wants, what she wants to do with her body. She's so averse to the idea that would prefer to live a life completely alone over having to marry and have all of her stripped away for duty. Daemon tries to assure her that all is not lost for her. Yes, it's a political contract but he basically tells her she does have power and autonomy within the confines of a marriage. She can do whatever she wants. She can control what does and doesn't happens to her. Having this power is clearly important to her. He also genuinely tries to alleviate her fears about having the same fate as her mother. He was there, he knows her grief and pain. She wants to take that trauma and become a recluse. He doesn't want her to fear a fate she can not truly control because it prevents her from ever experiencing the better parts of life. Solitude is lonely. He himself is married and he's still lonely. He doesn't want that for her. We can say it's familial affection or something even more but the key is I do not think that any part of this conversation, especially the last part, is a manipulative game to him. He's comforting her and trying to guide her in the right direction for her own good just as he's done several times before.
So this is the entire lead-up to their night out and sexual encounter. What part of this feels well planned? what part of this feels like a scheme or anything but a simmering curiosity and moment of honesty between two people who up to this point have only had a familial connection? The answer is none of it feels like a well-planned manipulation, not even in retrospect and it doesn't feel that way because in my opinion, it wasn't.
The first moment you can make a real argument that Daemon has done some plotting is when she arrives in her room and finds the clothing and the note. But even then the question becomes what exactly did he plan and why did he plan it? The more cynical perspectives floating around suggest that everything was daemon manipulating Rhaenyra to open her up to the night on the town, then he planted the clothes and the note to lure her away with the full intention of ruining her reputation for his own ploy for power. To me, this falls apart very quickly as an explanation despite what the creators implied (I'll get to that in a second).
As mentioned above hours ago they had a conversation where Daemon tries to tell Rhaenyra there is a lot more to the world she can enjoy versus resigning herself to solitude and misery. The truth of the matter is Rhaenyra is very green. She has been sheltered in the red keep her whole life. Her mother died at a crucial age. She has had no one to guide her through the confusing developmental aspects of adolescence. Daemon sees his role as a guide to help her reach a new level of understanding of the many forms of sexual expression and freedom that will ultimately liberate her from the confines of her gender and her station that she's been desperately fighting against this whole time. But why does he want to do this? Does he want to do it because her sexual awakening can be used as a tool to rise to power or does he do it because he actually cares about her and want her to actually feel empowered in this important way and he can conveniently also explore his sexual desire for her as well?
This is the most important question to ask in this entire analysis but this is also where the waters truly get murky making it difficult to answer the question. To me the most obvious answer is the latter but this is seemingly contradicted by the creators and by Daemon himself. I would like to argue that it actually wasn't.
Up until the point, he enters the brothel with her Daemon has been a comforting source of familiarity to Rhaenyra. He has shared vulnerable conversations with her. He tenderly held her hand at every moment and took her through the city watching her in amazement as she saw things she's never seen before. He has allowed all of this to go on while maintaining anonymity, which is crucial because it gives her freedom she otherwise would not have had. At no point did he ever come off as if he wanted to coerce her into something, he or was guiding her in a certain direction for a plan. It all seemed spontaneous and about exploration and most importantly they did as much as she wanted them to do. He is fascinated by her curiosity. He is enamored with her enthusiasm. Why behave like this if this was all a power play? if it was because he really really wanted to manipulate her then why would he stoop so low to hurt someone he clearly cares about for a throne he has never actually said he wants?
I've seen several takes that try to connect him taking her disguise off when his plan to expose her but even that falls apart quickly. He doesn't do it until they are deep into the brothel where they are less likely to be discovered. He also takes his own disguise off exposing himself. If he wanted to ruin her reputation all he needed to ensure was that she was seen in a brothel with someone. Making that someone actually him actually works against him in a long game. Even Viscerys points this out later with alicent. There was a small chance that daemon would be able to say "whoops I slept with her she's ruined not I have to be heir" or "whoops I slept with her and she's ruined not we have to marry" but remember my bullet points?Daemon is impulsive and manipulative but he's not a complete idiot. The much more likely outcome was enraging Viscerys who he has only been on solid footing with viscerys for a few hours, not even a whole day. Enraging viscerys would get him absolutely nothing. The only thing he gains is hurting Rhaenyra and Daemon cares deeply for Rhaenyra so it wouldn't be in character. Like I said even Viscerys acknowledges this and he's not the sharpest tool in the shed.
So if he gains nothing why is he doing this? How is this a power play for him and a power play he would be willing to engage in at the great expense of the only person he seems to actually care about? Maybe he just doesn't actually care about her that way. Maybe his care is not outweighed by his lack of morals and boundaries or maybe it's none of the above. Maybe there is a much simpler explanation for this entire ordeal.
I believe Daemon fully intended to push her sexual boundaries once they were in the brothel but I do not think his desire was to see her exposed while in that brothel to ruin her. I think he was just caught up in his own sexual desire for her and thrilled by the prospect of her liberation so he was callous about the entire thing and didn't care if she would be exposed because there is no real harm that can come. I don't even think he consciously thought about her being exposed in the moment but once presented with the issue it's never was a big deal to him. He even outright says this to viscerys. People whore, sure not women but Targaryens do. They are the blood of old valyria, they are dragon riders and rulers of the realm. They are above everyday conventions in society. They bed family members because they can. They whore because they can. They start wars because they can. The world is theirs for conquering and every aspect can be bent according to their will, including the truth and the truth is whatever viscerys says the truth is. Viscerys can decree his daughter is a maiden and whoever disputes it is treasonous and no one can defy him because well they have dragons. So no It was not calculated, it was just callous which fits into Daemon's personality perfectly and the difference between those two things is important when you're trying to put his actions into context. Also, if Daemon's plan was in fact to use Rhaenyra to gain power why did he even tell Viscerys he can just make it go away before the idea of a marriage even comes up? See the math isn't mathing.
This brings me to the most controversial part of their sexual encounter but the part that I think it the most fascinating. When Rhaenyra asks what is this place Daemon tells her it's where people come to take what they want. This is important for her because she's never seen sex as something that she can take for herself or as an act where she has power but Daemon takes her to a place where she can. Where they both can. This tells you that this experience is meant to be empowering for both of them but especially Rhaenyra. Being there empowers Daemon to cross a boundary he had not crossed before. He gets to take Rhaenyra. Being there for Rhaenyra empowers her to take control of her sexual expression and seek control, seek pleasure, seek passion, seek something that's purely about want and need and about nothing else. He outright tells her that this is what sex is for men AND women. This directly contradicts the idea that Daemon cares nothing about her awakening and it's a plot.
You could argue he says these things to manipulate her into an act but why chose a form of manipulation that plays into her gaining the most instead of him? A sexually empowered Rhaenyra can navigate her duty much more effectively than before. She can make smarter decisions and stop the tantrums that are holding her back. A sexually empowered Rhaenyra that is bold and unafraid and enlightened can form alliances that will strengthen her claim to the throne. We actually see this happen by the end of the episode when she agrees to marry Laenor without dispute and forces Viscerys to get rid of Otto as his hands. This Rhaenyra does not serve a Daemon who only wants to control her and use her for power, it does the exact opposite.
let's look at how the acts even take place for some ideas about his motives. He doesn't try to overwhelm her. He doesn't hungrily attack her even though he is hungry for her. He also doesn't dominate her completely. She's as into it as he is. She doesn't move a pace beyond where she is comfortable. He doesn't rush her and aggressively try to get into to submit to him. He doesn't overwhelm her with pleasure he gradually builds her up and lets her chase it. They passionately but tenderly kiss. He caresses her hair and her body. She pulls him close for more and doesn't shy away from her. Yes he's the one who turns her and moves towards the wall but she walks with him keeping up with her pace perfectly. Even when she is pushed against the wall she is excited and challenges him, she's not overpowered. He doesn't yank her clothing off he sensually exposures her. One of the best moments was when he takes her pants off. SHE ACTUALLY HELPS HIM DO IT. Her hands move to remove her own clothing and they actually do it together. He does not flinch when she initially changes position, it's AFTER that he pulls back. He's still into it when she turns and kisses him and nothing about the power dynamics in that kiss changed from their previous kisses.
This is the entire reason I don't agree that Daemon ends their encounter because he no longer had control of the sex act which is what pretty much everybody thinks the creators mean when they speak on this part and why he ended it. Is he shocked that's shes so responsive? Yes but I don't think that shock has a negative impact on the moment because he never actually had complete control of the sex act and he wanted her to feel powerful. That was never the point to begin with. Rhaenyra is supposed to take control of her sexual encounter, she's supposed to be an equal participant. She's supposed to seek pleasure and take what she wants. She's supposed to give him as good as she gets. That's the lesson. That's the whole point of the awakening. This entire thing is about empowering them both, not just him. This empowerment is important for rhaenyra for all the reasons I mentioned above and Daemon knows this. He had an entire conversation with her about this. He comforted her about her lack of all these things earlier. We even hear Rhaenyra tell alicent that her hundreds of suitors don't actually want her, they want her name and her valyrian blood. Daemon is supposed to be the exception. He intentionally wants to make himself the exception. So having Daemon have a motive of wanting to dominate her sexual encounter and being unable to do so which makes him abruptly abandon then sell her out to ruin her for a title her would make this scenario even worse than it already is because it means he wanted to completely disempower her all so that he could have a shot at the iron throne that he was never going to get. It's literally making her worst fear, the source of all of her teen angst for the last 4 episodes come to life. This interpretation colors every single one of their interactions with darkness from the very moment he has a full conversation with her this episode and gives him a level of villainy that completely takes away his nuance as a character because this act with this motivation requires selfishness and callousness towards her that crosses a line. Ultimately I just don't think this characterization well supported by the narrative and It would also make it difficult to even sell a later romance between the two of them.
So the math ain't math'n so how can we make it all add up? That's what this entire analysis boils down to based on what I've already demonstrated:
Daemon didn't set out to manipulate rhaenyra and this was not a well-plotted plan to ruin her. He wanted to initiate her sexual awakening for her own good because he cares and for his own selfish desire to have her sexually
He loves viscerys but still has resentment towards him leading to an unending desire to upset him when the opportunity presents itself. He was well aware that his actions would potentially stick a knife in Viscerys's back if he found out about it and he relished it but it was not merely a ploy to piss him off.
He did not go out of his way to ensure viscerys found out about it. He just didn't care about the consequences if Viscerys or anyone else found out. He had no connection to the spy at all. The spy was Otto doing the whole time with the help of mysaria.
He actually enjoyed her having control during the encounter, it made him desire her even more because he has always been enticed by her moments of self-assuredness. It makes him crave her instead of wanting to reject her.
The only reason he could not complete the sex act with her is because Daemon has psychogenic erectile dysfunction for reasons that are yet to be revealed.
Daemon did not pre-plan asking for Rhaenyra's hand. It happened at the moment because for the same reasons he was unable to get an erection.
If you watch the scene just before he leaves the brothel Daemon is very much still into engaging with Rhaenyra when she turns around to kiss him. As I said before he was actually relishing her show of control, not shying away from it. The problem is at the point in the encounter where she turns around he has already kissed her, caressed her body and he has already stimulated her vaginally.
(You can see his hand move from her hip further down when he has her against the wall. It was clearly meant to stimulate digital stimulation but it was purposely obscured by shadows and angles to focus on Rhaenyra's pleasure versus the actual physicality of the act)
When she turns around the next escalation in their sexual encounter is actual penetration. She wants it. He wants it....only Daemon can not get an erection. That's why he pulls away and looks at her for so long. He is hoping her desire, her look of hunger, her hair, anything will get his penis to stand up but it doesn't. She pushes to continue but he can't to he pulls away every time. He even attempts to push through it but giving in to her again but he still can't perform. That's when he finally reaches peak frustration which is both embarrassing and inconvenient so he leaves her to nurse his wound on his own. That is why he see that he ended up passing our drunk somewhere and Mysaria has to retrieve him. The control the creators were speaking about wasn't control of the power dynamics of the act, it was about control of his ability to perform aka exert his power ultimate during the acts.
Daemon has psychogenic erectile dysfunction. He had this issue before Rhaenyra since we saw him in the middle of sex with Mysaria, someone he clearly enjoys but he was unable to maintain his erection and reach a climax. That's why they even showed us that scene. Daemon is not physically impotent, he has no vascular issues preventing erection, and he has no neurologic issue preventing erection. It's purely psychologic. When he retreats from Mysaria he is clearly preoccupied with several thoughts. He is chaotic as hell but he is extremely emotional. The emotions we see most often are just petulance, anger, and resentment. His encounter with Mysaria established that when Daemon has too many emotions and thoughts in his head it interferes with his ability to sexually perform. I don't when this started but that is exactly what happens with Rhaenyra.
Daemon sexually desired Rhaenyra but I think once he started the actual act of being with her sexually he completely lost control of his emotions and his thoughts NOT the power dynamics that that's what rattles him. Maybe a little bit of guilt for attempting to have sex with his young niece in the middle of a brothel kicked in, after all until this point he has only known her as family and despite the familial history of incest he himself has never actually engaged in it before (that I know of). Maybe he feels something because Rhaenyra completely trusts him and that trust is why he's about to take her maidenhead in the middle of a brothel even though that is not how her first time should actually be. Maybe he feels an overwhelming emotional connection to her at the moment that caught him off guard because this was supposed to be about sex. It's probably all of the above really but the idea is these thoughts come up and he can not control them and because he can not control them he can not get an erection to actually do the one thing he truly set out to do which is have sex with Rhaenyra. He also can not tell her this because she has no idea what erectile dysfunction is and he can not explain it to her without being humiliated. He is supposed to be the one giving her a sexual awakening not a lesson on men with broken penises. So he leaves her there when under any other circumstances he would never do that to her.
That knowledge makes the entire puzzle come together because it gives his reaction at that moment some context that fits with the lead-up and that makes his later actions make some sense.
When he is confronted by Viscerys he straight up lies to enrage Viscerys and to cover for his own humiliation. Those are literally the only real things he can gain from telling that lie. Unbeknownst to us all and Rhaenyra, Daemon also had an awakening with Rhaenyra and that's why when the opportunity presents itself he seizes the chance to take her hand in marriage. Through his humiliation, he discovered that he desires Rhaenyra in a way that is bigger than he realized. He doesn't just want her sexually he wants her fully and completely. He wants her laugh, her childish curiosity, her determination, her ability to see right through him, her bravery, her stubbornness, her petulance, her anger, her beauty, her valyrian blood, her claim, her everything. I mean he straight up tells Viscerys he will take Rhaenyra just as she is. That was about so much more than a reputation. It firmly makes Daemon the opposite of the men Rhaenyra hates which actually fits the narrative but makes it even more interesting because Rhaenyra is unaware of all of this so it gives them so much more to explore and play with for the characters and their relationships later.
So no he didn't plot to marry her, it isn't until Viscerys himself presents him with the opportunity that he decides that's what he wants to do. It solves the problem of her reputation and gets him what he wants which is Rhaenyra and the restoration of his house to a level of glory and admiration that he feels Viscerys has sullied with his weakness. That's why I think it's important to acknowledge that Daemon was being truthful about his motivations when he says he can restore his house to glory. That is definitely a part of it. Sure it makes his intentions less pure but it makes them authentic and that's what matters the most. If this wasn't spontaneous he would have tried to end his own marriage before he even brought it up to make it more likely to happen. Instead, he never asks to end his marriage, he only suggests taking a second wife because at that brief moment where viscerys has him at knifepoint it's the only reasonable way forward. He didn't have time to actually think about a more seamless way to have her hand in marriage.
Finally, Daemon actually does accomplish his goal. Rhaenyra leaves their encounter and she feels fully empowered so much so she feels comfortable propositioning Criston for sex AND she takes the dominant position placing her own pleasure above all. Her view on sex and relationships and her own power have completely changed thanks to Daemon. This is further solidified by the fact that when her father tells her she's marrying Laenor she doesn't fight him. She will actually do her duty now because she gets what it fully means and no longer feels like she will be a prisoner in a marriage. She even feels so empowered she challenges Viscerys to get rid of Otto, a man he has been loyal to for decades AND it actually happens. Rhaenyra can now effectively navigate her future because of one intense experience with Daemon that shifts her perspective and I think that's pretty awesome for Rhaenyra and for Rhaenyra and Daemon as a pairing.
So in summary: Daemon Targaryen is a chaotic man with chaotic feelings but he is sprung on rhaenyra targaryen and he is not a cold-hearted master manipulator. Rhaenyra is now a boss bitch. Thanks, Daemon. The end lol
#daemon x rhaenyra#daemyra#rhaenyra x daemon#HOTD#HOTD commentary#Daemyra commentary#whew this is long y'all I'm so so sorry#if you read this you're a real one#this is just my attempt to make it all make sense in my head#I hope it makes sense#AGAIN THIS IS LONG AS SHIT PLEASE BE AWARE
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I love your Ithan fic and I was wondering if you would be willing to write a Ruhn fic where the reader is sister's with Ithan (there's no being engaged to Hypaxia), and the two get together when Ithan and Bryce reconnect and it's fluffy and little smutty? Sorry if this doesn't make sense. Thank you
sweet like candy.
author's note: when i tell y'all that i'm on my knees for ruhn danaan, crown prince of the valbaran fae...whew. 🥵🥵🥵
Do you want to get out of here?
Ruhn’s voice purrs into your thoughts. His suggestive tone pulls your attention away from your conversation with Bryce and Hunt as you stare at your boyfriend from across the room.
Flanked by Dec and Flynn, Ruhn raises a brow at you from the couch. A cloud of mist swirls around your three favorite males as your boyfriend blows a ring of smoke in the air. The stench of mirthroot clings to every surface in the tiny living room, which was even more crowded than usual since Flynn thought it was a great idea to invite what seemed like the entire population of Crescent City into your home.
You chuckle, shaking your head. Ruhn pouts as you lower your mental shield. Isn’t it rude to leave your own party?
We wouldn’t technically be leaving, your boyfriend says with a sly smile. Just going upstairs and having a party of our own.
A shiver of anticipation skirts up your spine. Well, when you put it like that…
“You two are adorable,” Bryce cuts in. She flips her long red hair behind her shoulder, shooting a knowing look between you and her older brother.
You blink, almost forgetting about everything that wasn’t Ruhn. Right. You were actively having a conversation before your boyfriend distracted you.
“Try disgusting,” Ithan cuts in. Your older brother states, blanching. “Living with these two is almost as bad as my stay at the Bryce and Hunt sex villa.”
Bryce snorts as you roll your eyes. “I thought you were the Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae’s number one fan.”
“Not when he’s dating my baby sister,” Ithan responds with a grimace.
“Such an alphahole,” you mutter in annoyance. Despite the comment, you find yourself smiling. You and Ithan were incredibly close, given all that you’ve been through as siblings and he was incredibly protective of you. As wolves, you were both fiercely loyal and stubborn to a fault.
When Sabine kicked him out of the Den, you were out on a mission away from Lunathion and you thanked Urd that Bryce had taken him in after Perry dropped him off nearly beaten to a pulp. You weren't sure what you would've done if you'd lost another brother. Needless to say, you went into a rage upon your return. None of the other wolves had ever seen you so angry and completely, utterly, out of your mind when you attacked the Prime Apparent in retaliation to what she'd done to your brother. Sabine may have been stronger than you, but you would've torn her apart for nearly taking Ithan away from you too. The grief of losing Conner wasn't something you wanted to live through again.
Luckily, Ithan was there to intervene. Along with his newfound group of friends that took you in just as they had done for him.
It wasn’t that big of an adjustment to live with four males since you grew up with Ithan and Connor, but Declan and Flynn had a harder time adjusting. The two Fae males weren’t used to adhering to any semblance of order. They would never admit it, but the changes you’d implemented around the house, including coming up with a rotating chore schedule and weekly grocery trips so that you had something other than beer and pizza in the fridge greatly improved their lives.
Flynn often called you a bossy know-it-all and while Dec complained about the incessant bickering between you and the Fae lord, they both warmed up to you rather quickly. Mostly because they've never seen anyone put Ruhn in his place quite like you did.
The Crown Prince didn't mind that you made him take his boots off before stepping on the brand new pink rug that you insisted added warmth to the living room or that he couldn’t drink milk right out of the carton anymore without receiving a swat on the back of the head. Ruhn didn’t even bat an eyelash when you switched the channel from the sunball game to one of those trashy reality shows that you seemed to love so much, despite his roommate’s protests.
Most of all, Ruhn loved that you didn’t seem to give a shit that he was the Starborn Prince. You still yelled at him when he ate your leftovers or used up the fancy shampoo that you and Flynn hoarded like gold. And he loved every second of it.
Hunt nudges you with his wing. “I, for one, am glad that you two are dating,” the angel states. “You put Danaan in his place like no one’s business.”
A tattooed arm slinks over your shoulder, pulling you close. “And here I thought we were becoming friends, Athalar.”
The Umbra Mortis chuckles. “Doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy a tiny little thing like her knocking you down a few pegs.”
Bryce grins as she surveys the absolute love struck look on her brother’s face. “Agreed, Athalar. It’s about damn time that my brother got a love life of his own, so he can stay out of mine.”
“Speaking of my love life.” Ruhn starts, nudging your hip with his. “It’s time we bow out of this party.”
“We have an early start tomorrow and someone turns into a grumpy little wolf when they don’t get enough sleep.” Your boyfriend teases, smoothly providing an alibi for you two to sneak off to his room.
“Seriously?” Flynn asks with a groan. “Little wolf really sank her claws into you huh, Danaan? You’re so unbelievably whipped.”
Ruhn only chuckles. “You would be too if you were lucky enough to have her as your girlfriend.”
You scrunch your nose. “I think I’d take my chances with the dragon.”
With a bevy of laughter and a huff of annoyance from the lordling, you wave to your friends as Ruhn ushers you upstairs.
As soon as the door shuts behind you, Ruhn’s mouth is on yours. You giggle, smiling into the kiss as your boyfriend leads you to the bed. Your knees hit the edge of the mattress as Ruhn carefully sets you down, his raven hair cascading over you like a dark curtain while he deepens the kiss. The guttural sound he releases when your tongue sweeps past his parted lips makes your head spin with desire.
“You taste like cherries,” you murmur, taking his bottom lip between your teeth. Flicking your tongue through his lip ring was Ruhn’s invitation to unleash himself on you.
“Flynn made me try one of his fancy little cocktails again,” he replies absentmindedly, lifting the hem of your shirt and pressing kisses into your overheated skin. Ruhn pulls it over your head before moving downwards to slide his hands up your skirt. He crumples the fabric up between his fingers before taking the lace of your panties between his teeth. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll taste like you soon enough.”
The predatory smirk he flashes your way sends a shiver down your spine as Ruhn’s head disappears between your thighs. He lets out a pleased hum when he finds you wet and soaking for him, ready for his tongue to be buried between your slick folds.
Ruhn grips your hips, holding you down as he slowly licks a stripe through your soaking core. “Hang on tight, baby.”
That’s the only warning you get before his wicked tongue threatens to unravel you. Ruhn grunts as you buck against his mouth, your slender fingers tugging at his hair roughly. He loved making you needy and desperate. The bossy wolf tamed into a mewling pup with just the flick of his tongue.
Your boyfriend eats you out like it’s his sole mission in life, making you moan and writhe underneath him as he slides a finger inside of you. Judging by the way your thighs clench around him, Ruhn takes it as a signal to slip both his index and middle finger inside you, curving to touch that spongy spot atop your walls.
“I can tell you’re about to cum, but can you do something for me, little pup?” Ruhn asks from between your legs.
You nod, barely forming coherent thoughts from the pleasure he was giving you. “Anything, Ruhn.”
“I want you to ride my face, sweetheart.”
Your eyes flutter open. “What if I’m too heavy? I—I don’t want to crush you.”
Ruhn squeezes your hip gently. “You won’t. Trust me baby, I can handle it.”
You shift, putting your weight on your elbows. This was new territory for you. You weren’t by any means inexperienced, but no male had ever asked you to sit on their face. Then again, no male ever ate your pussy with as much enthusiasm and expertise as Ruhn did. It always surprised you how attentive your boyfriend was. Whether you were in or out of the bedroom, Ruhn always made sure to put you first.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely positive.” Your boyfriend reassures you with a gentle kiss. Ruhn lies on his back, grinning as he pulls you by the wrist. “Don’t be shy, baby. Come get on top of me.”
Despite your uncertainty, you’re more than happy to oblige him. Ruhn watches as you straddle his stomach, inching higher and higher until both of your thighs are settled on either side of his face. He twines your fingers together, kissing your knuckles before placing your hands on the wooden headboard.
“Hold on to the headboard, sweetheart.”
His voice is laced with sensual promise and you can’t help but whimper as his large hands clamp down on the tops of your thighs, firmly positioning you over his face like it was your own personal throne. You slightly hover above him as though you were still scared that he wouldn’t be able to handle all of you.
“All the way, baby. I want to feel all of you.”
Slowly, but surely, you put all of your weight on Ruhn and he groans in pleasure, continuing his feast like eating your pussy was his favorite thing in the world. The worry of crushing your boyfriend soon dissipates as he works you with his tongue. It feels good, so good that you find yourself gripping the headboard for support while you ride his face.
Despite having his mouth full, Ruhn finds another way to let you know just how much he enjoys your enthusiasm.
There’s a good girl. Keep riding my face just like that, sweetheart.
“Burning fucking Solas,” you mutter under your breath. “That feels so good. Don’t stop, Ruhn.”
Ruhn moans at the desperation in your voice, circling your clit with his tongue and flicking faster and faster as you buck against his sharp jaw.
Gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Go on, then. I want to taste you on my tongue.
The words send you over the edge and you cum hard, squirting into Ruhn’s mouth while he laps up your juices. Soft moans slip past your lips almost reverently as your boyfriend licks up every last drop. The orgasm racks through your entire body and you crumple into Ruhn’s arms. He strokes your hair before kissing you softly, the taste of you coating his tongue.
Your eyes flutter open, finding his loving gaze already fixated on you. “Was that your first time squirting?” he asks gently.
Heat travels up your cheeks. You were so busy chasing after yours that you didn’t even realize what you’d done. “I—I’m so sorry. I’ve never done that before. Everything just happened so fast—”
Ruhn cuts you off with a kiss. When he pulls away, there’s nothing but care and appreciation in his eyes. “Don’t be sorry. I loved it. You taste sweet like candy.” He caresses your cheek, tracing the outline of your lips. “Did you like it?”
“Are you kidding? It was fucking amazing.” Ruhn chuckles as you wrap your arms around his neck. “You’re fucking amazing, Ruhn.”
You kiss him, slow and deep, showing him just how much you appreciated every part of him. Ruhn was the best boyfriend any female could ever ask for. He was kind, thoughtful, loyal and a top notch lay. You made sure to convey that last part out loud.
“You’ve been hanging around Flynn too much,” he says with an amused chuckle. “Now c’mere, sweetheart. I’m trying to add excellent cuddler to the list as well.”
You sigh happily as Ruhn wraps you into his arms, pulling you close and kissing your temple. “Consider it done.”
#i am simping for ruhn on this fine tuesday evening#THE CROWN PRINCE OF THE VALBARAN FAE?#ruhn danaan#ruhn danaan smut#ruhn danaan x reader#ruhn danaan x you#crescent city#hoeab#hosab
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My Movie Review: "Madame Web"
Whew....LAWWWWWDDDD..... Y'all where do I even begin? 😭😭
Y'all.....
Y'ALL........
This movie was SO bad y'all.... Like.... I'm almost in shock at how bad it was lol... 😓
It takes a LOT for me to label a movie just plain BAD, so this is really saying something. It was awful... 😭
Like, you know a movie is bad when you and other people in the audience are laughing at how BAD the film and the acting is lol. 😅🤣 Seriously! My friend and I and a couple sitting beside us were laughing the ENTIRE movie at how bad the acting was.
You guys, the acting was so criiiiiiinge! 🙈 I seriously have not seen acting this bad by an ENTIRE cast EVER lol. It was so bad, I was literally sitting there laughing at the dialog and the delivery. The only people who were decent were Adam Scott, the other side characters, and the three younger girls who were playing teenagers (Sydney Sweeney included).
Everyone else sucked wind so bad. I swear, I don't think I've seen a movie where not only the LEAD was doing bad acting, but even the VILLIAN in the film was such a baaad actor, omg. 😭 His voice was so robotic. He was so WOODEN. He sounded like he was just reading his lines. Half the time, I wasn't sure if he was really talking to someone in the room like that lol. His voice sounded so unnatural.
This movie made me appreciate DECENT acting lol. I never realized how just your VOICE and your delivery of your lines can make the entire difference btwn someone who's a good actor, vs someone who's a bad actor. 🥴
Dakota Johnson.... Okay.... I gotta talk about her cuz lol..... 👀 This was actually my FIRST time seeing one of her films, so I went in with an open mind ykwim? But CHILE! That woman cannot act. 😭 At least, not in this film! Half the time, her character was talking out loud to herself. 👀 Her line delivery was so bad, and her voice was so monotone and didn't fit some of the scenes she was in. It was so cringe to the point where the couple of people beside us were LAUGHING at how bad her acting was. 😭 I know Dakota is another NepoBaby, but I thought that surely her acting must be better than this since she's had quite a few lead films under her belt by now. But nope! I was legit shocked by how bad her acting was in this. 🥴
Not only was the acting bad, but the WRITING of this film was horrendous also! Stuff that should have been conveyed by a look, a glance, a facial expression, etc. was all SPOKEN OUT LOUD by Dakota's character Cassie smh.
🤦🏾♀️
Like, what on earth kind of writing is that?? I haven't seen writing and editing of a film THIS bad in a very long time.
It took forever for the real action of the film to even begin. It took over an hour and a half to even get to the "meat" of the film, and when you finally get there, it's like: "this was it???" 🥴
Sony Sony Sony!!! What is you doing??? Y'all know I try to defend Sony on here. I have a soft spot for them. But geez.... I'm sorry Sony, I cannot defend this movie lol. 🤦🏾♀️
What on earth??
What sucked the most though, is that we didn't even get to see anybody suit up in their costumes/uniforms/suits because we only got snippets of them in the future in costume.
Soooo basically, it really wasn't a "superhero" film to me. Like, it was all this buildup and buildup to NOTHING in the end.
At the end, my friend said that the movie was so bad that she liked it lol. 😅
I'm not going to try to sway anybody's decision....Go see it if you wish. All I know is it was so bad to the point of laughter out loud for me all throughout the movie lol. 😅🤣
You know how some actors OVER-act and it's so cringe?? Yea, it was THAT level bad in some scenes lol.
Maybe not on THIS level bad like the film "Showgirls" ROTFL, but it was still pretty bad...
youtube
😅🤣
The Pros:
The three "teenage" girls and Adam Scott were probably the best parts of this movie tbh lol
It was so bad, that it was pure comedy for us after a while lol😅
The Cons:
The writing was HORRENDOUS in this film
Dakota's acting and voice was just awful lol
Most of the acting SUCKED in this movie lol
The Villain was awful and sounded like a robot. Most of the time, it sounded like he was literally just reading his lines off of a script rotfl 😅🤣
The editing was horrible also!
We didn't really see the protagonists become "superheroes"
OVERALL SCORE: 3/10
Just plain bad!! I seriously haven't seen a movie THIS bad in a VERY long time. 😩 Thank goodness I have a movie membership and didn't have to pay full price for this, cuz I'd be PISSED! LOL
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Happy Valentine's Day!
Hi everyone :) I have missed you all so much! I have been kicking myself these last two years for being gone for so long. Not only did I feel like I was letting y'all down, I felt like I was letting myself down. Writing is my biggest passion, and I felt like I abandoned it, and you.
For context, before I left, I had Covid pretty bad, and am now suffering from long-term effects with my health because of it (that are thankfully more under control now). After having Covid I left a toxic relationship to unwittingly enter another, even more toxic and controlling relationship (whew is that a story!) and I learned that I have ADHD! (How fun is that!)
Anyway, to everyone that's still following me,
No seriously, thank you for sticking around!!
I have been working on some stuff for the last few months that I am so excited to share with y'all!
A few hours after this post will be a little Valentine's Day fluff fic to come out. Then in the coming weeks, I have a song inspired DeanxReader fic to be coming out labeled If You're Gonna Lie, and the following requests (under the read more with snippets of the fic) ready right now, to be queued. The requests will be coming out first, and then my own idea fics.
If you're interested in updating the tag list (whether that is adding your url, removing it or checking for accuracy) click here :) Next fic to be posted February 28th so if you want to update the tag list, be sure to do so before then :)
"Yes! Why does everyone keep asking me if I'm okay!" she growls, "first my dad, then John, now you!" She throws her hand onto her stomach to try to push away the pain.
Sam is taken aback by this, and that's when he notices that her hand is held tightly on her stomach. Suddenly, it all makes sense. Sam is confident that this isn't Y/N, that Y/N is in there somewhere, fighting to be free from whatever demon is possessing her.
I hear my name in Dean's voice from a distance, but I'm surrounded by total darkness. I try so hard with all of my might to tell him I'm here, that it's okay, but the words don't come. Just as it takes all of my strength to open my eyes, but they burn. Everything burns. I don't even try to suppress the scream that bellows out of me.
Taking as deep of a breath as I can, I'm scared for myself when it sounds and feels like I'm breathing a water and air mixture. "What's happening?" I manage to say, but Dean puts a finger to my lips.
"No, no," he soothes, "no, just don't talk. It's okay," he says so gently, and as he maneuvers me into his lap I cry out in agonizing pain. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says, then his voice switches into a shaky, fear filled yell for Castiel that hurts my heart almost as much as my wound hurts.
Y/N always felt like she had big shoes to fill, being third born after two boys. She never really formed a bond with John like the eldest Winchester had, despite her best efforts to impress the man. Her next role model was Dean, who became more of a father to her than John ever could be.
Up until her eleventh birthday Dean did her hair into pigtails, partly because he didn’t know how to do any other hair style, but mostly because he thought it was the cutest on her. He’d pack her and Sam’s lunch with snacks he’d bought from vending machines and even pretend to take her on hunts because he knew how eager she was to be just like him.
When she wasn’t learning about monsters and guns with Dean, she was spending her time with Sam. He’d help her with her homework, or play board and card games. They had as much in common as Y/N and Dean, neither Sam nor Y/N got along with John, and neither really knew their mothers.
Speaking of requests, I'll leave them open for now but I can't promise all will be fulfilled as I try to get my groove. My schedule as I get back into things, I think, will be one fic every other week.
I also updated my master lists and will be posting them later today, to then put them all in one master master list lol
Thank you all for still being here and I hope you like what will be coming out soon :)
Current PermaTags
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Dean
@akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-from-outer-space @ellewritesfix05 @cluz1babe @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone @idksupernaturl @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyygirl
Sam
@fangirlxwritesx67 @tlovescoffee @immafangirlmess @sizekinkshawty
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Switch Pt 10
An: I wish y'all knew what I was going through for this 😭 but it's finally here before the end of the year. The end of my very first fanfic. Whew! It was an undertaking for sure. Crazy that it's actually finished. I'm grateful for anyone who found it, reblogged it and read it all. Much much love and a happy new year to you all!
Genre: Romance, fluff, smut, angst
Cw: 18+ only (mdni), sexual activity, cuss words, talks of cheating, p in v, hospital imagery, lil bit of sadness, barely proofread
Synopsis: Aged up Married Pro hero!Deku, Bakugo and Uraraka.
The truth comes out
Masterlist is here!
“Do you know why he seems so weird?” Ochacho asked Deku once Katsuki disappeared into Kami’s hospital room.
“Yes,” Deku said carefully. He took her hands in his and pulled her to sit in the same chair Katsuki was sitting in not too long ago. He looked at her for a long moment trying to decide what he should say and he realized how long it had been since he just looked at her like this. Really looked at her. She looked sweet, she was sweet. But she was so full of life, full of fire. There was always something brimming beneath her kind demeanor. A fierceness he couldn’t quite match or tame. He chuckled realizing how obvious this all should have been.
“Deku?”
“I had an affair with Kami.” He blurted, his voice as hushed as it could be in the busy hospital corridor. He could feel the tension in her hands. “And I know you had one with Kacchan.” Her face fell and he could just hear all the apologies that were about to come his way. “I’m not angry,” and of course that was the truth. He was never angry, could never be angry with her. “A bit hurt but I know why you did it. I can’t say it’s right but neither of us made the right decision. Katsuki didn’t give me details but I know you had an opportunity for something more than I could give you and you took it. I get it. Sometimes I’m more hero than man and I wish I could’ve been what you needed but I know it’s okay that I’m not.”
Ochaco looked stunned and sad. She looked away, bit her lip. The guilt was obvious. After a few moments, she finally spoke. “I have no excuse for what I did. I love you, of course, I do. But being with him is so different. He got me to think about what I wanted and that was so satisfying. And then at times he was so sweet with me…” She buried her face in her hands. “Shit.”
He let out a chuckle. “He really did a number on you, huh?” When she didn’t answer he went on. “I felt the same way. I was actually so selfish. I really only thought about what I wanted when I took the chance to have it. In fact, Kami had to stop me from taking it way too far! But that didn’t really matter in the end.” He sighed, considering how honest to be. But he wanted no more secrets. “I’m in love with her.”
Ochaco immediately raised her head. “In love with Kami?” He couldn’t tell what she could be thinking as her teeth worried over her lip. “Does she…feel the same?” She finally asked.
He slumped down further into his chair thinking about it. At one point, he thought she did. But she never said it. And he started to think maybe it was all in his head. “I don’t know. We’ve never talked about it. It wasn’t really possible to pursue, you know?” He realized he was being so cavalier about all of this and felt the need to clarify. “Bubble, I hope you don’t think I ever lied to you about us.”
She met his eyes, hers full of surprise and sadness. “No, Deku. I know.” He watched her eyes well up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t handle this well. We were working on things and I really fucked it up anyway. I went behind your back and that wasn’t fair. I’ve been hating myself this whole time because I didn’t want you to hate me. I didn’t want to think about the impact of it all and, seriously, you falling in love is nothing I ever expected but I can’t say I’m not glad for it. For you. I always wanted you to be happy even when I was fucking up, even if it wasn’t with me. I sound like a terrible person.”
His smile was sardonic. “I won’t say you cheating on me didn’t hurt. But I think you were so distant and I was so caught up with myself that it was easy to give myself to someone else. That part I don’t regret. Even if she may not feel the same, I can see what I need too.” He ran his hands over his face. His fatigue was catching up to him.
“I think I know what you mean.” He shifted to watch her speak. “Katsuki is…abrasive like always but he’s a lot more than I thought. He challenges me and makes me feel…free somehow. And he does care but he’s not overbearing about it. You and I make sense as a couple because we’re so alike but with him he’s so different that it’s exciting.” She looked dreamy as she spoke but quickly flinched realizing what she was saying. “Sorry. I don’t know how much of this you wanted to hear.”
“No, it’s good. I’ve only ever wanted you happy and a lot of the time I doubted that I could be the one to do that for you. I suppose I was right." A sad smile settled over his lips. "But to know someone can do it gives me a sense of relief."
"I feel the same way, Izuku. If Kami loves you, which there's no way she doesn't, then…that's amazing.”
She gave him a sad smile and he started to chuckle in disbelief at their situation. Both of them cheated on each other and fell for the other person. Or at least he thought so, but to be sure... “Are you in love with him?”
She blinked and sniffled as her cheeks darkened. “Um…I don’t know. I mean our last time seeing each other was so confusing. He made me feel so amazing and so low at the same time. I think I do have feelings for him though.” She wouldn’t meet Deku’s eyes.
He chuckled. “I think he has feelings for you too. It might take time for him to admit it but he’ll get there.”
She sat there in silence for a bit, color covering her face, before she asked, “Do you think we’ll all be okay?”
He thought about it. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. If nothing else, we have each other. Always.”
That was incredibly optimistic, something she didn’t know she could share but she expected nothing less from him. And in a way it was comforting. But now that her body was beginning to relax, she could feel her exhaustion. She found herself craving her bed, although for how long it would remain her bed she had no idea. “I think I’m going to go home.” She mumbled.
Deku nodded. “I think I’ll stay.”
They gave each other tired smiles. She stood and he stood with her. They hugged because it felt right.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
“Deku,” Kami tried to coax him awake. His head had been resting on the rail on her bed and she knew he’d get a crick in his neck. “Deku, wake up.” She nudged him gently. He groaned in response and she laughed. “I know you’re not comfortable. Come on, wake up.” She nudged more forcefully this time.
He pulled himself up, finally rubbing his eyes before he opened them. “Okay, I’m up.” The hospital room was darker now with moonlight and the displays from various machines providing the only light. She smiled sleepily at him as his eyes settled on her. “Hi, baby,” he smiled back.
Her heart thrilled hearing him call her that. It meant he still thought of her the way he used to.
“I can’t believe you stayed. I can’t believe they let you.” She spoke almost in a whisper as if speaking any louder would disturb the lovely dream they were in.
“Of course I did. I think they know who I am. Did you not want me to?”
She hated that he asked. “No, I’m happy you stayed.”
“Then I’m happy you’re happy.” He rested his head back on the railing except now he was fully awake giving her his full attention.
“How are you feeling?”
He chuckled. “I think I’m supposed to be asking you that. But I’m okay for now. How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay, too. Sad though.”
“Why are you sad?”
“You’re leaving,” She muttered. She ran a finger over his arm lightly.
He sat up a little straighter as he sighed. He caught her hand in his and stroked the back of her hand with this thumb. “I keep telling myself it’s for the best.”
“Is it really though? I mean my husband is in love with your wife and I-” She stopped short and his eyes shot to hers, wide and piercing even in the dark. She realized she hadn’t had a chance to tell him how she felt about him but he had to know. She sat up a bit more herself and Deku watched her adjust, just waiting. “‘Zuku,” She kissed the back of his hand. “I-I’m so in love with you. It scares me but it’s true. I don’t want to be afraid of it because you don’t seem like you are but you’re also leaving and-”
He pulled her into a searing kiss that wiped her mind clean. It felt like it had been years since they last kissed and her emotions came bubbling to the surface. Tears ran down between their faces and he only held her closer. When he finally pulled back enough to look into her eyes, she could see that he was steady and certain. “Baby, of course I’m afraid,” he chuckled and it was light with relief. “I’m fucking terrified. Especially because I thought I was ruining everyone’s lives.”
“Well now you’re just ruining mine,” She pouted and sniffled. She meant it jokingly but she also meant it to a degree.
He gave her a sad smile as the thumb from the hand still resting on her cheek stroked over her skin.”I’m ruining mine too. Unless you want to come with me.” He said it lightly, like a joke, like it was wishful thinking.
“Take me.” She said, with no hesitation.
His brows pushed together and his mouth twisted as if to say be serious. “Don’t be silly.”
“I’m not. Okay maybe I am but I mean it. Take me with you.”
“Kami,” he sat back away from her and that left her feeling chilly. “You can’t leave everything for me.”
Her face crumpled but she laughed as she spoke around more tears. “You pretty much are everything to me.” He shook his head slowly in disbelief but she could see the hope he tried to hold back. Understanding that completely, she pushed on. “What’s here for me? Watching Katsuki and Ochaco get some kind of happily ever after while I pine away for you? My job isn’t even all that important. Not like you big heroes. I love my friends but I know I’d miss you more than anything.” As she said it, she realized how true it was. Her life wasn’t bad. It was stable and easy. But what would it be without him?
He reached for her again, his hands sliding over her cheeks as he rested his forehead against hers. He shook his head again slowly. “How do you know I’m worth all of that? I can’t be,” he lamented.
She laughed. “Deku, I know I was scared of the risk. I was scared of getting found out and losing everything so I left you instead.” She reached up to touch his face too. “And I’ve regretted it every day since. I don’t think I care anymore, especially after this, after waking up here and having you be the first thing on my mind even before I opened my eyes. It was stupid not to just be honest with you.”
“No, no. I know why you weren’t. To be honest, I thought it was stupid for me to nearly slip up and tell you. It was all too impulsive. No plan for anything after that. I just knew I loved you and I wanted you.”
“I wish I had let you tell me.” Kami whispered. “I wish I could have heard it back then.”
“You looked okay without me before,” he whispered back. “I thought…I thought we were really done.”
She chuckled. “I couldn’t just walk around looking miserable. That would’ve caused more questions.”
He stared at her for a moment. “You’d really come with me?” His voice was still hushed and tense.
“If you let me. Would you?”
His eyes welled as he started to sob softly. “Of course I would. I’d love to take you anywhere with me.” He hugged her as tight as he could to him while she was still hooked up in her hospital bed and she held on tightly to him. Relief flooded into her at his words. And when he clutched her in a hard kiss, she knew no matter what, she would follow him anywhere.
“Surprise!” Deku uncovered her eyes after they stepped into the living room of Kami’s house.
“Deku,” she laughed. “What is this?”
There was a banner hanging up over the kitchen entrance, welcoming her home. On the floor, Deku piled thick blankets in front of the coffee table that was covered with different snacks. On the couch, he laid out pajamas for them both. He shrugged. “You’re ‘welcome home’ picnic. I know the doctor said to take it easy. Do you like it or is it dumb?”
“Deku,” She planted her hands on his chest as she lifted up on her toes to kiss him. “I love it. Really. I can’t wait to relax and watch movies with you.”
His hands came up to her waist as he relaxed and kissed her back. “Okay, baby. Let’s get changed and we can get right to it.” He guided her to the couch and she smiled to herself at the matching green pajamas he picked out for them.
“I’m realizing how corny I am now that you’re here,” he laughed nervously and blushed a bit.
“I wouldn’t have you any other way. I love them. But I may need your help.” Kami’s head and body were still a bit tender after the accident and from lying in a bed for days.
“Sure, of course.” He gingerly tugged her shirt over her head and it made her heart swell in appreciation for his sweetness. After he pulled her shirt away, she couldn’t help but kiss him before he reached for her pants. He smiled at her and she kissed him again, soaking in the warmth from his body and personality. There was nothing but love for her from him and now that she had it again, she refused to let it go. She meant it to be a cute kiss, sweet but her breathing quickened as her body reacted to him pulling her close. Their kisses were languid and naturally, her mouth opened to him. Like muscle memory their tongues met and she could hear his low moan.
“God, I missed you,” he muttered, his voice tight. “But I know we can’t…do anything. I gotta calm down,” he chuckled.
He tried to put distance between them but she held tight to his arms. “I think if we just…take it easy…” Kami tried to reason through her now hazy mind.
He laughed. “Such a bad influence. But I can’t say I don’t want it like you do.” His hand slid slowly down her body and dipped beneath the waistband of her pants. He found his way into her underwear and gently brushed over the top of her clit. Her body tensed. She was more sensitive than she thought she’d be, which seemed perfect for taking it easy. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” She nodded and bit her lip. “I don’t know about you but I haven’t had sex since the last time we did,” he mumbled.
“Really?” She was gasping at the light strokes.
“Really, so this should be interesting.” He chuckled. “Would you be okay with being on top? You could be in control and just move your hips back and forth.”
“Sounds…perfect.”
He removed his pants and hers before sitting on the floor in front of the couch and leaning back against it. He pulled her into his lap and she slid her covered slit over his already hard cock. They both moaned. He rested his hands on her hips and gently guided her over him. She laced her fingers behind his neck and kissed him, meeting his tongue with hers.
He sucked in a sharp breath. “You know I’m not usually rough with you unless you want it but I’m just so happy to have you back in my arms, it’s not hard not to think of going crazy with you.”
She laughed. “I know what you mean. If I wasn’t so achy, I would be bouncing on you as hard as I can.”
His eyes darkened hearing that. “This is okay though? You’re okay?”
“Yes, I want more,” she muttered, moving to kiss and nip at his neck.
He groaned and his head fell back as he pulled himself free of his boxers. “Take it, then. Please.”
His words pierced her core, spreading heat all over as she pulled her panties to the side. She rubbed her bare skin against him a couple more times, driving them both a little crazy before she slowly started to take him in. She was already incredibly wet which wasn’t hard to believe.
He chuckled breathlessly. “As it is, you’ll be going slow for me. Oh my God. Was it always like this?”
“Yes, it was. Every fucking time.” She took him in a little deeper and she felt his thighs bunch beneath her. He hissed and she could see him trying to hold himself together. It made her take him in even farther. The stretch was intense but fulfilling. Her spine was tingling just from feeling him inside of her.
“Baby,” his breathing was labored as he reached forward and put a thumb to her clit. “Are you okay?”
She choked out a laugh. “Are you okay?”
He smiled up at her. “I’ve withstood far worse.”
“What about far better though?” She sank all the way down, their thighs meeting.
His mouth fell open and he pinched his eyes shut.
“Deku,” she panted. “Look at me, I missed you.”
He opened his eyes to slits. “Fuck, I missed you, too. So much.”
She shifted her hips forward and he groaned. She kissed him as she slowly moved her hips. She felt so full, so warm as they moved together. He was reaching places inside of her that were reaching far beyond just between her legs. But it still wasn’t enough. “This is killing me already.”
“I know what you mean. I could move if you want me to. Thrust up while you stay still. I won’t do anything crazy.”
She could see the effort it was taking him not to do it already. She nodded. “Do it, please.”
“Let me know if I’m holding you too hard,” he said just as he took her hips in a vice grip, supporting the full weight of her upper body. She couldn’t really move if she wanted to. They readjusted and he tested a full slide up into her reaching all the way in, causing them both to gasp. “Yes,” he hissed as he slid nearly all the way out and back in. He picked up speed, finding a steady pulse. “Does it feel good?” She nodded, at a loss for words. “Good, because you feel perfect. So perfect. You are perfect.” He started rambling. “I love you. I love your body. I love being inside of you. I just love everything about you.”
She snaked a hand down to rub her fingers over her clit and Deku reacted in excitement, pulsing faster. She knew her legs were already begging to give out but the pain was an afterthought compared to the pleasure swimming through her veins.
“Baby, please tell me you’re close.”
Kami’s eyes had fallen closed and her body started to tense. “Deku, fuck, I love it. Love the way you make me feel. Love you.” She panted as she chased the high that was within reach.
His mouth was closed but he moaned loud anyway. He was coming then, hips thrusting fast, and she followed right behind him, stars behind her lids, heat and pleasure enveloping her as she was flooded with sensations. He let his body sag against the floor and he pulled her down on top of him, resting her head on his shoulder. He stroked a hand over her hair. “Was that okay?”
“It was great.” She folded her hands over one another on his chest and rested her chin on them as she smiled lazily up at him.
“I think you telling me you loved me sent me over the edge.” He laughed and she joined him.
“Good, then I’ll just have to keep saying it.” She leaned up to kiss him. “I love you, Deku.”
“I love you, Kami.” He wrapped her up in his arms and she knew this is what she wanted forever to look like, being in his arms, soaking in his warmth and listening to his heart beat for her.
#mha x reader#mha fanfic#mha deku x oc#mha deku#bnha deku#bnha midoriya#mha midoriya#bnha x reader#bnha fic#bnha ochaco uraraka#bnha uraraka#mha ochaco#mha uraraka#switch fic#my hero academia deku#deku x oc#izuku x ochaco#bnha ochaco#ochaco uraraka#ochaco#izuku midoriya#izuku smut#midoriya izuku#bnha izuku
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Control
Pairing: Trans!Din x GN!Reader, established relationship, no use of Y/N
Word Count: 3.6k+
Warnings: SMUT (and lots of feelings) thigh riding, making out, heavy petting over clothes, a little nipple play, non- smut warnings, body insecurities, passing mention of top surgery, helmetless Din, yearning
Summary: Din wants more with you, but is overly unsure of what you'll think of his body. You're determined to help him see just how much you want him.
A/N: Whew! Thank y'all for your patience with this one <3 Din has so many feelings and is very touch starved!! We are getting a little spicy up in here! Enjoy!! Trans!Din Masterlist
***Cyar'ika darling, sweetheart
Ever since that first kiss, you'd wanted more. Slowly giving into the temptation of his lips, of his touch… Kisses started lasting a little longer. Touches lingering. Hands hovering over places they didn't belong. A growing tension between you two desperate to break.
Din had been away for a couple days tracking down a bounty. Leaving you alone on the Crest. It'd been a long few days. You spent them busying yourself with chores along the ship. Sweeping, dusting, finally tuning up some loose bolts here or there. Doing anything you could to get your mind off of Din.
Finally you hear the Crest door open, and Din's all too familiar footsteps enter upon the ramp. Another unknown set of footsteps approaching with his, the bounty warm. You head up to the cockpit, giving Din the room to deal with the bounty. After a few more moments, Din steps out from the lower level and calls for you.
"Cyar'ika. You can come out now."
Din's heart skips a beat when you peek down at him from the cockpit. Too long, he thinks far too long. He'd missed you while he was away. Late at night he felt himself unprepared for the flood of emotions he would have. All the thoughts of you. In the comfort of night he'd trace his lips with his fingers, remembering the way your lips felt against his. Wishing you were with him so he could kiss you again and again and again. Wishing he felt your warm arms wrapped around him in the frigid nights.
"Din!" You smile down at him, trying and failing to hide your excitement. You eagerly hop down the ladder, happy to finally be face to face with Din once more. "I missed you." You say softly.
"I missed you too-" Under his helmet, Din's eyes lovingly map out every inch of your face eventually locking in on your lips. "Cyar'ika," He reaches out for you, the tips of his gloves barely touching your waist. "Let me kiss you?" He asks, his other hand already reaching for his helmet.
"Please?" You nod, pulling his hand in on your waist. An invitation he eagerly accepts, gripping you tightly. You pull in closer, coming face to face with him. Eyes closed.
The now familiar hiss of his helmet releases. He leans in slowly not wanting to catch you by surprise. The first one is soft. You smile at the feeling of his grown out facial hair. Then more. Din catches your lips again in a heated passion. Something desperate bubbling under the surface. The way he closes in on you is harsh, but no less loving. A third, he steps even closer, your chests threatening to touch.
His hand at your waist digging into the textile of your clothing. Your breath catches in your throat as his warm tongue roughly pleads for entrance at your bottom lip. All too soon, Din stops, a breathless sigh escaping him as he settles his helmet back on his head.
"I-I'm sorry." He spits out quickly. "I shouldn't have done that." He felt embarrassed at his lack of control. At all the ways you so easily broke him down.
You slowly open your eyes, shyly looking at Din. He looks so unsure of himself. Tucking his body back into his frame tightly. "It's okay…Din I liked it."
He tilts his helmet at you. "Liked it?" He repeats after you.
"Yes…I-I like kissing you." You say bashfully, facing the floor, too shy to meet his gaze.
Din feels a bit of his resolve slip out from his grasp. You liked kissing him…he wonders maybe you'd even like doing more with him. The idea makes him go red under the helmet.
"I should um- go shower." Din gestures to his dirty clothing, a lame excuse for his need to calm himself down. "But maybe after we can…talk or kiss again?"
A soft smile grows across your face. "I'd like that."
He lowers his head in a nod. "I'll um go do that then." He choked out, stiffly shuffling away into the 'fresher.
How did you do that?
Make him lose control so easily. He tries to tell himself it's because he's tired, because he missed you, because of the adrenaline still coursing through his veins from the hunt. But it's more than that. He's wanted you ever since that first touch, when your bare hands intertwined with his. Your touch awoke something in him.
He knew desire. Knew lust. You weren't the first to kiss him. Nor the first to feel the Mandalorian's hands on your body. But you were the first person he ever wanted more with. Maybe the only person he'd wanted to truly bare himself to. That's what scared him most of all. Knowing there'd be more…wanting there to be more. You accepted him as he was. That much was clear. But- would you be as eager to receive the rest of him? Would you like what you saw?
Din slid out of his clothes, happy to be free of the heavy weight of his flight suit. Looking over in the mirror to get a glimpse of himself. A light fog over the mirror from the hot shower. He leans in closer…his eyes tracing over the patchy stubble over his face, fixating on the places where none grows. Hands run over his chest, lingering over the two faded scars under his pecs. Almost twenty years…almost two decades have passed since he had his surgery. It's been so long he hardly remembers they were there at all. The scars blend in among his marred body, to most they'd just appear another battle scar. Din looks down at himself. His belly soft with age, comfortably rounded. His hips, squared off at his waist. He no longer feels at war with his body, the way he did so long ago. He likes himself. Enough- at least. But would you?
The hot water rains over Din's body, cleansing him of the built up grime of these past few days. It feels good, soothing to his aching muscles. He works to massage the spots that hurt the most; wishing he was bold enough to ask you to get the spots he can't reach. Maker- wishing to have your hands on him at all. Touching him. Teasing him. Anything…Maker he'd let you do most anything. Slow down Djarin, he chastises himself, one thing at a time. Kissing you nearly knocks him out. If you actually touched him in all the ways he thinks about- well he probably would pass out. So he'll go slow for now…
Eventually he steps out of the shower, quickly drying himself off. He tends to his overgrown moustache and facial hair, giving it a quick trim. He'd been much more mindful of the length of it since you'd begun kissing. He puts on just a hint of aftershave, a slightly pricey luxury he'd impulsively bought one day when he'd overheard you mention you liked men who smelt good. He goes to change. The feeling of fresh clothes against his skin makes him sigh out in relief. Reaching for his armor, he decides against it. The beloved beskar needed a proper cleaning, but there'd be time for that later. Din rests his helmet back onto his head and steps out of the 'fresher.
The Crest is overly quiet. No sound of footsteps to be heard. Din silently creeps around the ship. Checking everywhere for you. It's not until he reaches your bunk, he finds you. A chuckle leaving his lips at the sight of you napping. Wrapped comfortably under the blanket, lips slightly parted. He thinks, for a moment, that he'll let you rest, knowing you never slept well when he was away. That is until you stir.
"Din" you murmur softly. Eyes fluttering open in the darkened room.
"Good morning." He teases in turn, running his bare hand over your head.
You take a deep inhale, catching the faint scent of his aftershave. "Mmm you smell nice."
He smirks. "I showered."
"Mhmm" you softly moan, still waking up. You shift closer to Din, nearly on the edge of the bunk. "Kiss me?" You ask in a sleepy haze.
"Eyes closed, Cyar'ika." Once he sees your eyes close, Din eagerly lifts his helmet up.
The kiss is insistent. The way Din closes in around you. His broad form cowering over you from above. He presses into you heavily. So much so even the tip of his helmet can even be felt digging your forehead. A large hand comes up to your check, running his thumb along it. His lips come crashing into yours again and again.
Under the thick woven cloth of his flight suit, his heart beats a million miles an hour. It's too much, having you like this. But he almost can't stop. Doesn't want to stop. You're too lovely. Each kiss is too soft, too perfect, too electrifying. It feels so right; having you in his grasp. If he didn't know better, he'd rip his helmet off and claim you as his. Enter a riddurk with you. Touch you. Feel you touch him. Finally play with you in all the ways he'd lik- Control Djarin, his internal monologue screams at him, you're losing control.
"Cyar'ika I-" the Mandalorian pulls away suddenly, leaving you with a breathless gasp. Quickly smashing his helmet back onto his face. Hiding the red flush over his neck and chest.
"Stay…" you cut him off with a quiet plea. "Din, I want you" hands slide up his waist, holding onto his hips, "to stay." You say as you pull him closer, urging him to come into the bunk with you. Eyes peering into the dark T of his helmet.
Din's face goes red at your words. Once again grateful you can't see the reaction you have on him. "Stay?" He repeats, his body completely still in your hands.
"I would like you to stay…if that is what you want too." You leave it open, giving him an out.
You were patient. You'd wait a thousand years if that's what it took. A million. You just wanted to see Din relax…let go. To give into his desires. To take whatever it was he needed most from you. Emotionally, physically, mentally. You'd give it all to him. As you knew you always would. It was obvious. Even under the hollow black gaze of his helmet…it was obvious what he wanted. The way his eyes trailed you. The ever increasingly tense kisses. Relief. You wanted to be the one to give it to him.
A low hum is heard from Din. His voice caught in his throat. You, you wanted him. Were asking for him by name. Oh you sweet thing he thinks. Eyes carefully reading your face, looking for signs of deception. Of fear. Of anything that would indicate a lie. His heart pounds even harder when all he can see is the desire in your eyes, the love you have for him, and the trust you put in him. I can give this to you Din decides.
"Close your eyes again for me. Don't open them until I say."
You answer with a nod, closing your eyes. You hear him shift around the room. The soft muted sound of his flight suit moving with him. Shortly he returns to you.
"Open your eyes."
Darkness is the first thing you register. Only a pale sliver of light leaks out from the main hull into the small room. Your eyes slowly adjust, barely making out the silhouette of your Mandalorian.
"Din?"
"I'm here." He answers, putting his hand over yours. "Can you see me?"
"No. Just a silhouette."
"Good." He retracts his hand off yours, going to his helmet.
A low hiss fills the quiet room. Din's silhouette changes, from the hard structured form of his helmet…to soft feathered edges curling up with no distinguishable pattern. Hair! Short curly hair…It feels nearly blasphemous to gaze upon him, even under the guise of darkness. You felt privy to a secret. What a beautiful secret it must be. Din had only taken his helmet off for meals, or showers. Even opting to sleep in it most nights during hunts. No one has seen him since he was a child. No one except, at least in part…you.
Din is quiet. Unsure of what to do with myself without the guard of his helmet, as he fiddles it in his hands nervously. There's an intensity to this kind of vulnerability. Something he hasn't experienced since he was a child. Though he can't fully find your eyes, to look into them unfiltered he can feel them on him. Looking at him. Taking in the newly revealed part of him. An itch of regret is scratching at his throat, aching to be eased.
"Do- do you still want me to stay?" The Mandalorian asks uncharacteristically shyly.
"Yes…" you let out in a breathy sigh. Still in awe at the glimpse of his hair. "Please stay."
Carefully, Din sits his helmet on the side table. He approaches you slowly, being extra cautious in the dark. His hands find yours and lovingly intertwine.
"Din, let me kiss you?" You ask in a hushed voice. "Please pretty boy?"
The nickname makes his heart flutter. Stars, is he nervous…being this vulnerable has him on edge but- with each gentle caress of your hands on his he regains a bit more strength. Each soft word of yours easing his stressed heart.
"Cyar'ika, you're sure you want me?"
You smile to yourself…it's a bit endearing to see the fearless Mandalorian be so helpless to his emotions. "Yes. I love you Din." You raise his left hand to your mouth, kissing the open palm. "I've wanted you for as long as I can remember."
With the feeling of your lips on his hand, he can no longer help himself. Fighting against the voice in his head, Din leans down to kiss you. A full tender kiss. Trying to be as gentle as he can be, like he's afraid to hurt you. You want to show him everything. That it's okay. That you want him. That your interest in him was genuine. Your hands move up his arms, moving to wrap around his neck. Holding his lips against yours. Guiding him closer.
Din nervously follows your lead. He might not trust himself with you…but he trusts you with himself. He knew you'd take care of him. Respect his boundaries. Go slow. His body relaxes above you as he shuffles into the bunk. A called sigh escapes Din as he settles over your thigh.
It's a tight fit. The large Mandalorian easily fills out the width of the bunk by himself, let alone with you joining him. But you make it work. Your chests are nearly touching. Din was only held up by his forearms. Legs are squished between one another, warmth radiating from where your body's touch. One of your hands goes to play with the unseen curls at the base of his neck, the other tracing over the bulge of his bicep above you. You pull away from the kiss, just briefly.
"More." Is all you say. And Din eagerly agrees.
More…he can give you more.
Closer. He gets so much closer. Letting more of his weight drop onto you. The thick padding of his flight suit pressing into your torso. Ungloved hands slide under your body, rubbing along your shoulders. His hips drop down lower, barely hovering over your thigh.
This time- you're the first to run your tongue against his lips. Asking for entrance that is quickly granted. Din parts his lips open, his tongue excitedly meeting yours. You trace along the inside of his mouth methodically. Pacing yourself. Setting the rhythm for you both. You whine at the way he purposefully scrapes his teeth on the tip of your tongue. You lock lips once more, bound in a tight harsh kiss. Din, as he did before, runs his tongue along your bottom lip begging for his turn. He explores your mouth with vigor. Like a young boy having his first kiss, but with the experience of a man who's taken many lovers. He just can't get enough. His hands move off your back up onto your sides, tracing your figure. Hands running from your ribs down to your hips. In his excitement, he drops his hips against your thighs and-
"Dank ferrick-" he moans out loudly, his whole body jumping at the contact. Din's body goes stiff and still above you.
A pause. For a few brief moments, there's nothing. Just the soft, heavy breathing of Din and the feeling of his hands anxiously squeezing your sides.
"Din?"
No response.
"Din?"
"I'm sorry." Is all he says. Still unmoving.
"Is something wrong?"
"No…" his voice lingers. "I just-"
You touched him. Not intentionally. But you touched him. Somewhere no one ever had before. Somewhere he'd been too shy to let anyone touch before. That space between his legs he'd reserved for himself. For moments alone. This is when he'd usually switch to giving his partner attention. Focus on them and their pleasure. But dank ferrick he liked the way you made him feel. The way you felt under him. You run your hand up through his hair, and he melts under your touch. Easing his body back down to yours.
"You feel good." He quietly murmurs into your neck. "Your thigh I mean it's -"
Quick to catch on, you slowly lift your leg up gently pressing it against him. "My thigh feels good?" You finish for him.
A whine escapes his lips as you press against him. His head drops against your chest. "Yes. S-so good." Even through the layers of clothes between you, that light pressure drives him crazy. Maker, is this what he's done for so many others?
You smile, softly chuckling at how cute he is. How needy. Melting so quickly at such a light touch. He deserves this. Pleasure. You bring a hand down on his hip, urging him along. "You can keep going, Din."
"Cyar'ika-"
"It's okay." You reassure him. Flexing your thigh against him, earning you another groan. "I want you to."
Shyly, Din slowly grinds against your thigh. His breath quickens with each pass of his hips. Breathless moans and deep groans are delivered directly to your ear. Din messily kisses along your neck as he rides your thigh. In time getting rougher, working himself closer to the edge. He eats up your praise like a man starved.
"Good boy. Sound soo good. Go harder. I love having you on top of me. Love feeling you. My pretty boy."
His hands get greedy, groping over your upper body feeling over every inch he can reach. His fingers flick over the hard nipples he feels through your shirt. He smiles into your neck at the whine you let out.
"Tease." You huff at him.
"Only fair Cyar'ika. Now come here." His hands cup your face. His lips crash into yours, happy to be kissing you again.
There's so much love in his kisses. In the way he holds you. In the way he softly moans your name. Most of all in the way he trusts you. Hands himself over so easily. His body. His secrets. His love. It was yours. All yours. He surrendered himself to you completely. All that power was a heavy responsibility, but in return you'd give him all the things he needed and more.
Din's heart races in his chest. He wraps his arms around your body tightly. A shiver runs up his body. "Close." He moans, "S-so close."
You pull him close, stroking his hair. Kisses sprinkled over his face. "Cum for me Din." You plead in a heated breath.
With a few more rolls of his hips Din collapses on top of you. His full weight pressing you into the bunk mattress. Breathing heavily into your ear, just holding you tightly to him. Your hands work to soothe him. Running along his back. After a few minutes, Din lifts himself up, bringing his forehead to yours. Trying his best to look into your eyes in the dark room.
"Thank you." He whispers. "No one's ever…touched me before."
You bring a hand to his face, feeling over the light stubble. "No one's ever touched you before?" You ask softly. You knew he'd had some experience you just hadn't thought-
"Not like that at least." He says with a chuckle. "Never below my belt. I never…never wanted them to."
You feel your face get flushed at the indication of you being the first to have him like this. "Was that okay? You feel alright? Everything-"
"I'm good. Very good." Din assures you. "I'm happy it was with you." A butterfly kiss lands on the tip of your nose. "I love you…"
You smile up at him. "I love you too." You pull him into a soft kiss. He moans into your mouth, just enjoying being close to you. You whine as he pulls away.
"Cyar'ika. I'd love to keep kissing you, but I need to go change first..." He says bashfully.
You fail to suppress the small laugh that leaves your lips. "Go ahead, Din."
He shifts out from the tight bunk. Putting his helmet securely back on his head. The door to the bunk opens, light flooding the small room. For the first time in what feels like hours, you finally see Din again. His broad frame filling up the doorway. The light catching his helmet in a way that mesmerizes you. He's always so beautiful. A feeling of warmth fills you. What an honor it is to be allowed even a glimpse under that helmet.
"Don't be too long?" You ask with a small smile on your face.
He nods towards you. "Never."
Din turns on his heels, catching one last glimpse of you before making his way to his own bunk. Control he laughs at his own earlier thoughts. No…Din never had control. He'd given that to you long ago. He was yours. He'd follow wherever, whatever you wanted.
#Am writes#din djarin x you#trans!din#din djarin x gn!reader#the mandalorian fanfiction#mandalorian x reader#din dijarin fanfiction
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I Want You to Show Me Weak
Fandom: Andor
Pairing: Kino Loy/F!Reader
Chapter 22/27 (16.1k words)
->start at chapter 1<-
<- Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 ->
Summary: You're pretty sure Kino Loy hates you. He screams at you, grabs you, and shoves you against the wall, and it's becoming a problem because, well...it shouldn't fluster you as much as it does.
Warnings: Explicit rating, Smut, Prison, Prison sex, minor non-graphic injuries, Dom/Sub, sexual tension, dirty talk, praise, hair-pulling, choking, unprotected sex, oral, angst, orgasm denial, humiliation, slut shaming, references to domestic abuse, discussion of domestic abuse, minor violence, discussion of violence, description of violence, very light ass play
A/N: Hey, y'all! Did you miss me?? I promise I never stopped writing (as evidenced by the 16.1k word count). This entire chapter was a test of my skill, my patience, and my sanity. I swear it never ended up going in the direction I was intending, so I was constantly reeling and trying to figure out what the FUCK I was writing. So I'm sorry it took as long as it did to write, but whew boy. Enjoy! Work title is from "Poison" by Vaults. Chapter title is from "Crush" Cigarettes After Sex. Chapter navigation above.
AO3 Link
Chapter 22 - Can't live without your love inside me now. I'll find a way to slip into your skin somehow. I wanna fuck your love slow.
By the time you step into your cell, you've practiced your apology at least three times in your head. You aren't looking to get out of any punishment, you just feel bad you hadn't at least considered telling him your plan first. You likely would have gone through with it anyway, but he deserved consideration. Deserves it in the future. You spin to face him as he takes a step inside.
"Kino, I'm so sorry!" You say in a rush. "I didn't think. Again. I just saw Taybus and Vage standing there, and I wanted my friend to be happy like I'm happy. He's so young, it isn't fair that he's —"
Kino holds out a hand to stop you and then reaches out to gently clasp your arms. "I know."
"Oh." You deflate slightly because you'd been prepared to apologize or be chastened, even get defensive, but you hadn't been prepared for that. You look at him expectantly, waiting for a 'but' or for him to say more. Instead, he just pulls you slowly towards him, and your feet move, unsure. "Are you angry with me?"
"Furious," he growls, and you wince. Then he gathers you into his arms with a sigh and he rubs his hands along your back in a soothing manner. "But I also know what you're willing to do for the people you care about, so I shouldn't be surprised."
"It's only been this one thi—" you start to protest, but he interrupts you.
"You lied about bumping into me to protect Taybus, you defended me to table 4 without thinking, you worked to get Edii out of his shell, and now you're testing the cell sensors so your friend might find even a fraction of the happiness that we have. Which was after you already helped him get to that point. And let's not forget risking your hand to save your table a headache and some trouble." He raises an eyebrow at you, daring you to argue with him. "Am I forgetting anything?"
"...okay, I suppose that is more than once." You give him a grimace of a smile. "I was just trying to do the right thing," you utter, feeling awkward. Because you hadn't really thought of any of those things as a sacrifice or going out of your way. You simply…acted.
"I know," he whispers, and places a kiss on your temple, the roughness of his beard a comforting scratch along your skin.
"Am I…" you hesitate. "Am I going to be punished?" For the second day in a row, you think to yourself. A new record.
"Not this time." He rumbles quietly into your hair as he nuzzles the tip of his nose through the strands.
"Why not?" You're stunned. Because you were certain it was a done deal. You changed the entire dynamic of the shift. You put yourself at risk. They could have activated the whole block after they got the notification if it hadn't worked. What you did was objectively…well, it wasn't great.
"I don't want to discourage that part of you when there's no harm done, no matter how much it frustrates me. I don't want it to lessen who you are. That's never my goal. Because what you did today was reckless and stupid," you flush in embarrassment at the exasperation in his voice, "but it was also selfless and kind. We haven't had enough of that in here for too long. And I can't argue that having one small joy doesn't improve morale or motivation. I've seen the proof in you and the people around you."
"You're far more than a small joy to me," you mutter, finally laying your head on his shoulder and giving in to the hug.
"All I want—all I ask," he continues, "is that you exercise a little more caution. I want you to make sure you're actually helping and not making something worse by not thinking it through. Do you understand?"
You know he's right. You've always skirted by on dumb luck right up until you don't. You nod against his neck and say quietly, "Yes, Kino. I understand."
"Because it won't always work out for the best. The risk will catch up with you eventually and I don't want you to get hurt," he says softly, the worry evident in his voice.
You pull back again so you can look at him properly. "Despite how it seemed, it really was a very calculated risk," you insist, "but I promise I'll be more cautious. I'll especially make sure I consider you or talk about something like that first because you deserve that level of respect. I should have done so today, and once I realized I didn't, I regretted not doing so immediately. I really am so very sorry, Kino."
"Thank you. I'll hold you to that. Because in the future, I may not be as benevolent if we have to have this conversation again." There's an edge to his words. A promise. You tense slightly against him in worry and anticipation. "So be sure to try and behave."
"Yes, Kino," you agree in a husky voice, already shifting from navigating your newest fuck up into arousal.
"Good. Now that that's settled." He surprises you by capturing your mouth in a hungry kiss. You let out a squeak of shock in your throat, but quickly surrender and melt against him in relief.
That first meeting of lips after a long day without him is always bliss, like a glass of water when you're parched or a deep breath of planet atmosphere after being on a ship for too long. More so when the way he kisses you back betrays that he feels the same way. That he is just as eager to lose himself in you.
He gropes down to your waist and takes a moment to squeeze and rub where it meets the curve of your hips. As if he's reveling in the way you fit into the span of his grip and how he can hold you there. Then he drags his palms down to cup your ass, to pull you up and closer to him. You're forced to your tiptoes, and your lower stomach is drawn against his quickly stirring member, trapping it between you. He growls into your mouth at the contact. You respond with a moan and arch against him, working into where you're pressed together and letting the friction of your bodies harden him further.
Soon he's fully erect, his length digging almost painfully near your hip. He's also kissed you so thoroughly that you're making needy sounds into his mouth. You lift your leg and hook it around his waist, seeking that same friction to alleviate the heat between your thighs. You're unsteady on the balls of just one foot despite his grip on you, but you're hoping he'll get the hint and lift you up so you can wrap both of your legs around him. Can properly rock against him in a desperate hunt for your orgasm.
For now, you clumsily and impatiently set your core against the bulge of him through both of your uniforms. It isn't difficult to reach, but it is difficult to get the angle right and keep your balance on one foot. You manage enough to roll your hips and slide firmly along him, whining at the drag against your folds and how incredible he feels already.
And then he's pulling his lips away from yours, breaking the kiss like he's been shocked from a stupor.
"Wait," he gasps, nearly breathless.
"What is it?" You pant against his mouth, concerned you've done something wrong.
"This isn't…" he hesitates, like he's uncertain or nervous, his chest rising and falling against yours, and your interest is very piqued.
"What?" You search his face for some indication of what he's about to say. You've never heard Kino Loy sound nervous.
"This isn't what I wanted tonight because I was thinking," he carefully brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "that we could slow things down. Take our time with each other since we ended up here early. Then afterwards...I could stay. Here. With you."
"Really?" You gasp in disbelief, caught off guard by it and almost afraid to accept that you might get this. "You aren't worried about the rest of the shift?"
"I think they're going to be a bit distracted this evening," he chuckles. A smile always makes him look several years younger, and your heart skips a beat. "As long as there are no disruptions, no, I'm not worried."
"Then," your voice is suddenly thick with emotion, "I would like that very much."
"Yeah?" He leans in close and angles his face towards yours. He takes in the look of relief and longing in your expression, lets it soften his own, but he doesn't kiss you—likely to prevent himself from getting carried away again. "Then let's move this to the bed."
You go to turn, to take the few steps towards the raised platform of your bed, eager to be tangled up with him, but he puts a firm hand on your shoulder to stop you. You look up at him, confused.
"To be clear," he says carefully, "I don't intend to fuck you."
"Oh. Alright." Your shoulders slump a bit and there's disappointment you can't hide fast enough in your voice. Because he made it sound as if that's exactly what he intended to do.
"Hey." His hands find your cheeks, framing your face between them, and he cradles you tenderly in his palms. Your heart starts to speed up at the gentleness of it as he leans in to place a light kiss on your lips. Then he looks into your eyes with determination. His are so blue and stormy, like an early autumn sunrise when the clouds are parting to hint at the light sky beyond while everything is still hazy and grey with rain. The way he's looking at you is just as weighty and breathtaking.
"I intend to make love to you," he whispers, low and rough.
"Oh ." Your knees go weak, and you put your hand on his chest so you can lean into him for support. Because fuck, he can undo you with a single sentence, but that sentence in particular? It sets both your heart and your sex throbbing.
"If you aren't opposed to the idea." He sounds worried, as if there is the possibility you are.
As if you hadn't ached for any of this. As if saying no to him is ever an option.
As if you aren't in love with him.
Your mind is racing, every thought tangling with the next until you can't find anything to say to ease his fear other than sobbing, "Kino" at him. So you tilt your face forward to capture his lips again. To slide your tongue enthusiastically along his to communicate just how okay with it you are. Your hands find the front of his uniform and grip the fabric to give you a little stability as you tremble against him. And to pull him closer to you.
Because suddenly he isn't close enough.
He breaks the kiss again before it can go any further, and he rests his forehead against yours. "I take it you aren't opposed, then." He lets out a breathy chuckle.
"No," you whimper. "I want it."
"Good," he pulls away and smiles at you.
But you can see beyond the smile to the forced, tight curl of his lips. The tension that wrinkles the corners of his eyes and the creases of his forehead. The way he glances down to the floor.
Underneath that smile is vulnerability.
Anxiety. Relief.
Something more.
Then he looks back to you, and oh. You can see it now.
He thinks about you and your well-being, even when he isn't here with you. He looks at you in adoration and awe. He talks about you. He gave you an affectionate nickname. He made the first time you had sex special. Because…
Kino Loy is in love with you.
It's right there in the way he's looking at you, as plain as if he had said it out loud. Shouted it across the block, even.
And you're a fucking idiot.
How could you have doubted it—him—for so long? How could you have been so fucking insecure that you were willfully blind and missed what was right in front of you, even when other people pointed to it and told you to look.
But you were so afraid. Every sense of yearning, every ache in your chest, and every need that left you breathless was new and almost overwhelming at times. You've never felt this way before. Never actually been in love.
Trusting him with your body and your life is not the same as trusting with your heart. If you had given it to him, only to find pity and apology? If you had to go on living with the anguish that your feelings were unrequited? That had the power to destroy you in a way bruises never could. So it made you a coward.
You let it make you a coward.
Now you would carve your heart from your chest and pry it from the stubborn fingers of your ribcage if he asked it of you. Even if he didn't, you would still lay it at his feet in surrender, to prove to him your devotion and your love. You may as well. It belongs to him anyway. Every second it beats within your chest is now borrowed. That you continue on at all is at his mercy.
That should still terrify you, but as you greedily take in the expression on his face that you can now see with clarity—that you've wanted so desperately and can no longer deny—the fear is gone. Because you have Kino's heart and everything else is white noise.
He moves his hand to gently hold your chin as his thumb strokes against your bottom lip. "I just want to feel you."
"Then you'd better take my clothes off," you murmur before kissing the pad of his thumb.
He releases you, but only for a moment. Then his hands are at the hem of your shirt and he's lifting it, unhurriedly, over your head. You raise your arms for him and he slides it off with care, as though you're delicate. As though you hadn't had your arms wrenched and tied behind your back the night before. After he tosses your shirt away, he pauses for a moment—rakes his eyes over your now naked breasts and stomach.
"God, you're beautiful," he says in hushed awe.
You flush under his appreciative gaze, can almost feel the weight of it on your skin, and goosebumps prickle your chest and arms. But you don't wait for him to finish staring. You want to bare all of yourself to him, to give him more to admire, so you slide your own pants down your hips. Once they're to your thighs, you let the weight of the fabric pull them the rest of the way to the floor. You step out of the heap, toeing them off and nudging them aside, until you're fully nude before him.
He groans as his attention moves lower to where your slit is still concealed between your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you're tempted to part a knee. To bare your sex to him, too. To run your fingers through your folds and spread your lips to expose your damp entrance. Enticing him to bury his face between your legs and plunge his tongue inside of you.
But first.
You lean in and kiss him, just a quick press on his lips, and you purr, "I want to feel you, too." Then, to his surprise, you sink to your knees in front of him. "All of you," you sigh up at him.
"What are you doing?" He sounds apprehensive.
"Appreciating you." You push up his shirt, letting your palms and fingers roam through the fuzz on his belly with a moan as you do. Letting your nose and lips brush over his hair and skin with faint kisses. "Feeling you," you breathe against him.
After a brief hesitation, he wordlessly runs his fingers through your hair and pushes it away from your face, giving you unhindered access to him. Giving you permission. You look up at him in reverence as his hands gently settle on the sides of your skull. Not to push or force you, but to massage your scalp and feel the way you move beneath his touch.
You carefully pull his waistband far enough down below his hips to expose his erection. It bobs free of the fabric, thick and flushed, already leaking in anticipation—and god you love his cock. Love the way it curves ever so slightly to the left, the velvety slide of his foreskin, the faint salt and musk of him on your tongue. Love the way it presses inside of you.
You whimper as you think about what comes after this, once you've provoked him and wound him up just a little tighter. Not enough to break his self control, but to bend it just so. Enough that when the time comes, he aches to sink into you.
His eyes are transfixed on where his hard length is jutting towards you, just inches from your mouth. Any other night you would wait or tease him and hope that one day you could make him beg you to suck his cock, but not tonight. You wrap a hand around him to steady him and coax his foreskin just a little further down and past the tip of him. Then you look up at him as you wrap your lips and tongue around him, too. He groans above you and his hands tighten into loose fists in your hair. You know he's resisting the urge to plunge his hips forward. To fuck into the moist heat of your mouth.
Part of you wants him to because the thought makes your arousal pulse and flood with wetness.
Your mind races with it briefly. You imagine yourself on your knees. Him pinning you against the platform of your bed while he braces forward on your mattress with one hand, and mercilessly thrusting all the way to the back of your throat. You know he would make that sexy grunting noise and tell you how good you feel as he pulls your hair. Praise you for taking his cock so well. Tell you he's going to choke you when he comes down your throat.
Fuck.
Maybe next time. Because you know tonight is more than that. It's an exploration of something newly realized, and you have to navigate it carefully until it's no longer fragile.
Instead, you keep your attention on his face as your lips and tongue move sensually around him. You lap flat, broad strokes over every ridge and swell of him, and each drag of your mouth is long and slow—not intending to draw his release from him, but to savor each dribble of precome, slide of foreskin beneath your lips, and twitch on your tongue. You want to cherish him. To show him how much you enjoy feeling him and bringing him pleasure, too. How much you love every inch of him.
And he watches, eyes lidded and enraptured at the way he disappears past your lips. His own lips are parted as he sucks in breaths and gasps curses into the open cell. Even your inner thighs are starting to grow damp now from the sounds he's making. You do your best to work them from him, tease and milk the swollen, exposed head of his cock, eager to hear more. Eager to hear him whimper your name and furrow his brows in anguish as he continues to fight his own instincts to take.
When his hips start to jerk forward to meet you, you know it's time to stop before he's too far gone. You take him as deeply as you can into your mouth one last time, swallowing around him to force him deeper still, then you languidly pull him from your hollowed cheeks. He lets out an unhindered groan above you, his hands reflexively tightening in your hair as though he's resisting the urge to keep you there or to drive your mouth back down. The brief sting is thrilling enough that you moan around him in response, which earns you an almost pained hiss. After you ease him from your lips, you place a kiss along the sensitive underside of his length, wrenching a shudder from him. You sex quivers and you resist doing it a second time.
With some reluctance, you rise to your feet. He releases your hair to offer you a hand up, and you take it, if only to bask in the roughness of his palm and how his larger fingers close around yours. The strength in his hand makes you feel almost small, and it's thrilling to know just how much power you're teasing and flirting with on a regular basis.
Once you're standing, he gives you a dazed look, his blue eyes unfocused with arousal. He opens his mouth as though he wants to say something, but he pulls you in for another kiss instead, and the words are lost the moment your lips meet.
His hands roam down your naked back as he explores your mouth, spurred on by the taste of his own saltiness still lingering on your tongue. A reminder of being inside of you. Of his building climax before you stopped. His length prods your belly before being pressed firmly against it as he grabs your ass and pulls you closer. When he shifts, he leaves behind a smear of your own saliva on your skin, and you feel another throb of moisture at your nearly dripping folds.
You could do this all evening, bask in caresses and kisses—if you were a more patient person.
But you want him. Badly. And right now you're close to jumping into his arms and wrapping your legs around him just to bring his cock closer to your entrance. So it's your turn to break the kiss by pulling back. Just far enough that you can look into his face with all of the devotion and passion you have for him.
"Kino," you whisper against his parted mouth. "I'm yours. Make love to me."
With a groan, he quickly scoops you up—eager after hearing that and not caring that his pants are still around his thighs—and he walks you over to the bed. There he lays you carefully down onto the mattress. Your head is the last thing he releases, and he runs the backs of his knuckles along your cheek before he pulls away. Then he's taking off his own shirt without any of the caution or tenderness that he showed you.
You push yourself up to your elbows to watch as he reveals his sturdy hips and belly, softening with age, but still firm with strength underneath. Then he slides the top over his head, baring his shoulders, which flex without effort, and more of the greying hair on his chest. You itch to run your fingers through that trail of fuzz, to grope your way along the full length of his abdomen, around to his waist and ribs. Because you love how thick he is. Love every curve that hardens into muscle, and how you can grab onto him and feel certain that he would never budge or break.
He lets his uniform top fall to the floor. Then immediately his attention shifts to his pants, which are still miraculously clinging to his upper thighs. He pushes them down the rest of the way, bending to maneuver them past his knees since his aren't as loose as yours. When he straightens and steps out of the fabric, his heavy erection sways enticingly from the movement.
You're glad you're laying down because fuck, you will never tire of seeing Kino Loy naked in front of you. Ready for you. Wanting you. He's so fucking sexy that it's overwhelming every time.
Before he joins you on the bed, he looks down at you in adoration. Your heart stutters at the expression on his face, as naked as the rest of him. He brushes your hair off of your shoulders, letting his fingers skim along your neck. It's a phantom of a touch and it tickles. You writhe and tremble under his fingertips, trying to withstand it without cracking—and failing.
"Kino!" You put a hand on his forearm to stop him before he continues further and makes you giggle, ruining the tender mood.
"Yes, pet?" He whispers down at you.
"I need you," you urge. You draw your knees up, bending your legs until your feet are planted flat on the mattress, and then you let them fall slowly open. "Please take me."
There's a glint of hunger on his face as he glances down to your parted thighs. Then he's climbing between your legs, pausing only to let out a pained groan when he notices that your sex and inner thighs are glistening from how wet and ready for him you are. He settles onto his knees and sets his hands to either side of your ribs, bracing himself to hover over you. Not pressed against you yet, but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him.
He leans down and kisses behind your ear, your jaw, down your neck, along your collarbone, dragging his lips and scruff over every sensitive dip. You whimper and squirm from the attention. It's almost too much again, straddles that line between balm and pain. It's maddening. Then, before you can call out, he's making his way back up your throat, pausing to kiss and nip under your chin, and finally reaching your lips once more.
He lowers further to his forearms so now parts of you are touching, but not enough. He also keeps his mouth moving against yours, and you're dizzy from the attention. It's almost as though he's trying to dissolve you into a heap of nothing but want and need. Though, you have to admit, it doesn't take much—at least where he's concerned.
A hand grasps the crook of your knee, and he guides your leg to his thigh. You obediently wrap your leg behind his, not needing to be told or asked. Then he runs his touch up your waist before gripping you tightly. As the pressure of his thumb digs and pits into the flesh of your stomach, you realize he's holding you still for him.
You tense in anticipation because you can sense what comes next, but you still jump with a gasp when his erection brushes against your swollen folds. He's so close to being where you need him. So close to filling you, but still he doesn't. Instead he slides his other arm under you and hooks his hand over your shoulder, keeping you even more firmly in place.
With all this preparation, at first you think he wants to hold you steady because he's getting ready to slam into you, and it's a tantalizing thought. But as he gently prods your opening with tiny thrusts, you realize the opposite is happening. He's going to take his time entering you. And he knows it's going to drive you wild with impatience. That you're going to try and press yourself onto him. Do everything you can to have him inside of you, and he is going to do everything he can to force you to wait.
You groan loudly in understanding and frustration. He knows, then, that you've worked it out because he grins against your lips. You want to pull away, to plead with him to please just fuck you already, but then he angles his hips forward and enters you. Barely. No more than the head of his cock, but it still pulls a wanton moan from you because, fuck, you've needed something.
Then he holds his position inside of you, giving you no additional pressure or friction, and goes back to kissing you with enthusiasm. You could weep in desperation already, and he's only just started.
After what feels like an eternity of waiting, but is likely only a couple of minutes, he edges forward again—slides further inside of you. But you're so slick and hot, that he slips a little deeper than he intended. So then he's pulling back instead, slowly dragging his length along your walls until he's satisfied with his new position within you. He greedily laps up the whines and noises of irritation that spill out of your mouth and into his at the sensation.
That is how he continues stretching and filling you. It's torturous. Deliriously slow. Whenever you adjust and quiet down, he presses in another inch, which sets you off into another fit of desperate keening. You don't know how he's keeping it together because you're ready to scream and beg and bargain with him or any god that will listen. You try to lift your hips and rut against him, but his grip on your waist keeps you from making any progress. You knew it would, but you had to try anyway.
When he's almost entirely inside of you, he finally moves his mouth from your lips to kiss along your cheek and jaw.
"Do you know what you do to me?" He gasps against your skin, and at last you can tell how bothered he is by his own teasing.
"Tell me," you plead because you love hearing him talk while he's inside of you. You want to hear the low rumble of his voice and feel the vibration in your chest.
He pushes his hips forward one last time, slow and deep, until he's pulling at you with his hands and pressing against the backs of your thighs—trying to get deeper still. Then he stops, completely sheathed inside of you, and you moan in satisfaction at being fully stretched and filled with him.
"I never want to leave this cell. I would stay right here, buried inside of you for the rest of my life if I could." His voice is tense and gravelly as he nuzzles his nose against your jaw.
"Oh god, Kino," you sob.
"Before you, all that mattered to me was getting out of this place. After you? I'm weak. You make me weak." He places a firm kiss on your neck, pressing so hard that his nose smushes near your pulse and his beard pricks your skin. Then he growls, "Because you're all that matters to me now."
Your heart lurches and then begins to pound violently in your chest. You can tell he's working up to something important. An admission. Is dangerously close to saying the words that change everything by changing nothing. Because every moment together, every action you've taken, and every touch, gentle and bruising—all of it has been done with love and trust this entire time. It's why labels were never important. You've both said plenty through action—choking and wrenching, kneeling and grasping, humiliation and submission. Every bit of pain and pleasure.
You've already told him you were falling in love with him a dozen times over.
And so did he, you realize now.
You need to hear it anyway.
"Look at me," you say helplessly. Overwhelmed by both his cock and his confession, barely able to speak, but still needing to see his face.
He doesn't look at you, though. Instead he rolls his hips, shifting inside of you as he leans in even closer.
"Do you know why you make me weak?"
"Say it." It's nearly inaudible. Not even a whisper.
"Because I love you," he exhales against the shell of your ear. "God help me, I have wanted you and loved you from the moment I first touched you."
You want to cry. And you want to laugh in glee and hysteria. Bury your face into his neck. Plead. Scream. Straddle his lap, grip him with your walls, and ride him. Wail until your throat is hoarse. Snuggle up next to him in bed. Fall to your knees in prayer. Contort your hips and force him deeper within you. To fuck him. Tear your own hair out. Your insides are churning with a hundred different conflicting emotions at his declaration, but all you can do is lie there. Pinned. Paralyzed. Burning with the intensity of it all.
Because I love you.
You can feel the echo of his words in your ear and his breath against your skin, reverberating over and over in your mind.
You once compared him to a sun—a benevolent and blinding warmth—but he's a supernova. Beyond blinding. Searing past your skin, deep into your flesh. Into your meat. Imprinting himself upon your very cells. You felt the heat of him before you saw how consumed you really were. Now, even if you wanted to get away, you wouldn't dream of it. Wouldn't move an inch unless it was to dive further into that oblivion. Because you have a love that peels you bare and reveals the truth of you. That leaves you undone and broken, even as you trust it with every atom of your being to breathe life back into you afterwards.
"Kino," you weep as he finally moves—thrusts into you again. Then more urgently, "Look at me!"
He slowly lifts away from your jaw to meet your eyes. You can tell he was ravaged by his own revelation because his face is a wreck—his eyes are shiny, his nostrils are flaring, and his lower lip is in a pout, quivering slightly. You want those full lips on yours, trailing between your breasts, circled around your clit, everywhere—
"I love you, too," you choke out. You finally get to say the words out loud to him. And you find that they're so significant and such a fundamental truth of you now, that they're ripped painfully from your chest. The relief is so great that it hurts to say it. "I love you so fucking much. Please." You push on the back of his thigh with your calf, urging him to move. To continue rocking into you. Then you grab his face in your hands and hold him there so he can't look away this time. "Say it again."
You need to see it. You need to see the way his lips shape the words. You need to see his face as he says it. You need—
He arches his back, his hand splayed along your hip and poised to thrust into you again, but keeping his eyes on yours.
"I love you," he groans, rugged and guttural, and you let it hang between the two of you. Then he plunges into you, and you are so full of him—your core, your head, your heart—you can barely breathe.
Burying himself inside of you draws a sound from him that is half mirth and half lament, and the expression on his face, somehow at once a smile and a sob, is a reflection of that same contradiction. As if saying it out loud, making himself so vulnerable, brings him both pain and joy. A sentiment you can relate to because it's what he does to you as well. Crushes and holds. Breaks and soothes.
"Fuck," you whimper.
If he's barely holding on by a thread, then you are untethered. Adrift. You aren't sure you will ever stop falling. Ever stop being sucked in by the gravity of him.
"I should have told you sooner," he sighs, regretful. "I wanted to. I wasn't sure—"
"I know," you whisper up to him, your voice thick with the threat of tears. "I should have, too, but I was so afraid."
"Of me?" There's a brief flash of heartache on his face, and you urgently place a hand on his stubbled cheek.
"No!" You gasp, horrified. "Not like that, anyway." Your cheeks flush in shame and you glance away from him. "I was afraid you wouldn't feel the same way about me," you murmur.
"Look at me," he commands. You immediately obey his tone and look up into a hard expression of determination, a familiar one which thins his lips and deepens the lines on his face. "I will never leave you doubting how I feel about you ever again," he says, rough and fierce. "Do you hear me?"
"Yes, Kino." Your breath hitches and you let out a shaky exhale.
"You will always know that I love you," his voice waivers, still overcome with the weight of saying it. And you've found a new way he ruins you because everytime he says he loves you, you feel as though you could burst into flames.
"Show me," you beg.
He thrusts into you again, deep and steady, but still slow and gentle. And god, it feels good, but it also feels wrong.
This isn't how the two of you should be in this moment. This isn't how you love.
"Wait!" You put a hand on his shoulder and he stills above you. "Kino...is this really what you want?" You rasp. "Something tender? Or is this what you think you should want?"
"What…" he hesitates and frowns down at you. "What do you mean?"
"You said you wanted us to take our time with each other tonight, and I understand why, but what do you really want to do to me?" You push up with your elbows so you can get close enough to brush your lips against his. "Show me how you love me. How you feel about us."
His next thrust is harder, meets you with enough force to shift you along the mattress, and it sparks something inside of you.
"Fuck!" You throw your head back with a moan. "Just like that."
"You think I don't want tender? That I could just fuck you after I tell you I love you?" He growls, nearly spitting the word "fuck" out in disgust. But you aren't fooled. You know how he aches to let go.
"I think fucking me is loving me. I think you've always been making love to me." Then, feeling bold, you groan up at him, "And I know you want to."
"Is that so?" His voice is low and dangerous, and it sends a frisson through you.
"Yes," you purr. "I think you've been holding back all evening." You growl back at him, "Don't."
His grip tightens, sharpens with pain where his fingers dig into you and you hiss in pleasure. He pulls his hips back. You expect him to stop when the tip of him is all that's left inside of you, but he doesn't. He completely removes himself from you, leaving you empty and twitching.
You make a noise of protest and look up at him in confusion. But before you can ask what's wrong or consider that perhaps you misjudged the situation, he growls and slams full force back into you. Your vision blurs in satisfaction and your words turn into an obscene moan. Because you were right.
"Is this what you want?" He grits through his teeth as his lips pull back into a snarl. "Is this how you want to be loved?”
"Yes!" You whine back at him. "Please, fuck me, Kino."
And then you're being split open as he finally lets go—pounds mercilessly into your slick center. There's the slap of flesh on flesh everytime his hips meet yours, and the lewd, wet noise of his cock sliding in and out of your drenched opening. The sound of that alone is enough to leave you gaping and moaning, but he's also grunting in your ear with each thrust, driving you wild.
"You feel so fucking good on my cock," he growls. "God, I love fucking you. I could spend a whole day buried inside of you. Making you come."
Your entire body jolts as he rams you into the thin mattress. Even though your breasts are pressed to his chest, they still shake against him from the force of it. Occasionally his rhythm gets interrupted because you're being slowly pushed away from him along the bed, and he has to yank you back into position. So you hook your other leg behind his thigh and hold on tightly to stop yourself from shifting around beneath him. You don't want any of his momentum wasted. Want it all focused inside of you.
Once you're braced against him, it finally gives him the leverage he needs and each thrust somehow feels deeper than the last.
"I want every step to hurt tomorrow, Kino," you pant. "I want to think of your cock inside of me and how much you love me every time I move. Every time I sit. I want to ache with you."
Faster than you would have thought possible, he removes his hand from your shoulder and grabs your jaw with a growl. "You're shameless, you know that?" Then he pulls your face closer. "I should have fucked that filthy mouth."
"I know you wanted to," you grit out, your words slurring slightly from the force of his fingers and thumb on your cheeks.
"Yeah?" He jerks his hips hard against you, forcing a little yelp from your throat. "Is that why you were sucking me so beautifully? To get me to lose control?"
"I wasn't even trying that hard, but I thought about it. About you fucking my mouth." You smirk up at him as much as you're able. "And I can do better," you promise in a husky voice.
"Fuck," he grunts. "That's why you're so wet for me.”
"Yes," you purr against his lips. "I love when you take, Kino. And I love sucking your cock."
"You should see yourself when you're on your knees," he murmurs. "The way your pretty lips look wrapped around me."
He releases your face and threads his fingers through your hair. You whimper in anticipation, eager for the sting in your scalp, and he smirks at you. Makes you wait for it another minute while he pounds into you. Makes you wait until you begin to squirm and whine. Then without warning, he jerks your head away at an angle, exposing your neck to him as you cry out in pain and relief. He places hard, open mouthed kisses along the bare curve of your neck. His hot, wet tongue, lapping and dragging and searing where it passes over your skin.
"The way you swallow me, god,” he snarls. “I’ve never done anything to deserve how good your mouth and cunt are.”
"No." You try to pull away from his hand, even though he has your hair held fast in his grip. "Never say that," you hiss, still writhing fruitlessly against him. "You're fucking incredible, Kino Loy."
His hips stop moving and he lifts his head to look at you in surprise. "I just meant—"
"I know what you meant. But it's your hands that bring this out of me. The real me. There is no me without you," you insist.
His grip slackens for one brief moment of weakness as he stares down at you, and you take advantage of his distraction. You hitch forward and feel your hair give slightly through his fingers. He quickly reestablishes his hold in response, but you've already managed to turn your head enough to face him fully.
"I was made for you, remember?" You bite your lip and grind your hips into his. "I'm yours to fuck," you gasp at him.
He blinks at you a few more times, but another firm rock along his length snaps him out of it and spurs him into action. Back to pounding into you. With a grunt, he dives forward to smother his face into your neck again, just below your ear. The sudden chafing of his beard leaves you squirming, wanting to escape from and relish in the burn of it, but his weight over you has you pinned to the bed, completely at the mercy of his lips. It also makes the skin of your stomach and breasts slide against the softer hair on his belly and chest, which feels fucking incredible. You try to arch your back to rub into him. You want more of it. The two opposing sensations nearly drive you to tears until he moves on to frantically kiss and nip at your jaw.
Then he's murmuring into your ear, "Yes you fucking are! You're mine." He rocks into you, barely pulling his hips back for a proper thrust, as if he can't handle not being fully buried inside of you. "Mine." He says it over and over like a mantra.
The result is a relentless friction against your clit and pressure on that sweet spot inside of you.
Soon you can't fucking breathe and you desperately try to suck in air to stop the room from spinning. It's too much. Every part of you is touching him—wrapped around, pressed against, grasping on for dear life. His hand at your waist is constantly roaming and groping and clutching, and the other in your hair wrenches at you for leverage. His lips kiss and sweep along your skin, dragging the burn of stubble with them as he continues laying claim to you. And his cock grinds into you, against you, within you.
You think you can't take anymore. That you might go mad with all of it. But then there's that familiar burn at your core—that blossoming of tension that opens up inside of you and grows through your belly and thighs. You begin to quake in his arms, and you wail out a muffled stream of moans and pleas into his shoulder, begging him to stop. To keep going. To keep fucking you. To— "oh god, fuck, Kino! I'm so close!"
His litany stops, and instead he begins to growl, "That's right, come for me while I fuck your wet cunt. I want to feel it."
"Please," you let out a choked whine—closer closer closer, "Kino!"
"You're mine, so be a good girl for me."
"Fuck!" You sob, "oh Kino! I'm—"
"God, I love you," he whispers against your ear.
And the tension snaps, sending the tide of your release swelling and receding through your entire being. It blooms along your skin and behind your eyelids, muting the sterile white of your cell. And there's a rush of blood to your skull that leaves you momentarily deafened except for a ringing in your ears. You think your head has fallen back against his hand and you're shouting his name—your own prayer—but reality is beyond your senses while you're consumed by the peak of your orgasm.
And then you blink away tears and the worst of the fog, and everything sharpens. Returns to focus, even as your body still churns and pulses with bliss.
His hips falter for a moment as your walls clench around his cock, and he groans like he's in agony. As if you're reaching into his chest and rending his heart with your bare hands, and not having your own torn from you at the way he's looking down at your face. Like you're the supernova— searing into his retinas until he can see the impression of you even when he closes his eyes.
Then he recovers and resumes his relentless pace—pounding into you, holding you in place, his grip tight on your hips while he fucks you through your climax, coaxing every last tremor and spasm from your core. Bottoming out through every aftershock.
"Fuck, you're so tight when you come. The way you squeeze my cock," he growls deep within his chest, “makes it so hard not to empty myself into you."
You try to whine his name, but your brain is buzzing, unable to force your mouth to work, so you can only choke out a whimper instead.
"But I don't want to. I'm not done with you yet," he hisses into your ear. "I'm still going to take my time before I do."
You lay there, spent and helpless, making pathetic noises as every deep plunge inside of you is like fire to your over-stimulated nerves.
"I'm going to have you whichever way I want before then, too," he mutters, and you shiver beneath him. "And I want you on your hands and knees.”
Suddenly the weight of him on top of you is being lifted as he pushes off. He slips out from between your legs and you let out a ragged protest. Beg him to come back to you. Because now you're floating without an anchor and your sweat flecked skin feels cooler without him covering you with his warmth.
But then his hands are back on you. He patiently helps you flip over and recenter yourself on the narrow bed. Once you're on your stomach, he pulls back on your hips until you raise up on all fours. You don't even think, you automatically square yourself, knees beneath your hips and hands beneath your shoulders.
He gives a dissatisfied grunt behind you.
"Lean forward," he orders. Without waiting for you to obey, he's bending over you and pushing between your shoulder blades, forcing you to lower down towards the bed. He removes his hand when you're less than a foot from the mattress, your elbows sticking out as you're crouched down. You assume that means you're low enough and stop, despite the fact that you have to look completely ridiculous.
"Farther," he growls. You arch even lower until you have to reposition your arms so your forearms are flat, your breasts are nearly touching the vinyl material, and your ass is up in the air. He lets out a huff. "You'll get there." There's a confidence to the phrase which sends a shiver through you, straight to your rekindling arousal.
You can hear him shift on his knees behind you and you feel the dip in the padding by your shins. You wait to feel him shuffle in between your legs, to put a hand on your hip as he gets ready to fuck you. Instead he puts his hands on your outer thighs, just above your knees, and squeezes them together, trying to close your parted limbs.
"What are you doing?" You glance over your shoulder at him in confusion.
He looks down at you in equal confusion. "Getting you into position for me," he says as though it should be obvious.
"But…how…?" You wiggle your hips at him.
It takes a second, and then there's a dawn of realization on his face. "You've never been fucked properly from behind like this before, have you?"
You open your mouth to scoff. To say that of course you have, but then you stop and think… Have you? You've been fucked from behind while on all fours, certainly. That's a pretty basic position. But properly? Well, it was okay. Sometimes it felt close to really good if you shifted your hips just right. You had to reach between your legs and finish yourself off every time, though. Actually, you had to do that a lot—and damn, you really thought you were having decent sex before him, huh?
"Apparently not?" You relent.
He gives you a heated, almost predatory smile. "Oh, pet," he coos at you. "Then I am going to fuck you until you're screaming my name into your hand again. Because you're going to feel so good, the only thing you will remember is my name and my cock." Your face flushes, bright red and hot and tingling, and your walls and clit both flutter in anticipation. He hasn't even fucking touched you and it's already the most you've enjoyed being in this position. You swallow hard.
He pats your thigh. "Now legs together." You obey with now trembling limbs until your thighs to your ankles are pressed together.
"Good girl," he says in that perfect fucking low and gruff way that you like. The way that leaves you wet and panting. Thinking about how he's already fucked you senseless once tonight.
"Kino," you moan, canting your hips towards him, arching your back further until your arms reach out to help you brace yourself into a more natural position.
He grunts down at you. Now he's satisfied, you think, as begins to climb into position. He puts his knees outside of yours, rather than kneeling between them like you're used to. You're very interested to know how this is going to work, since apparently this is going to be a new experience. And it involves him fucking you.
"God, this is an incredible view. You're breathtaking," he growls behind you. Then his thumb is dragging over your slit. "And you're still soaked for me."
"How could I not be," you gasp, "when you made some pretty big claims about fucking me after already making me come once."
"Is that doubt I hear?" He adds pressure to his thumb, causing it to barely press into your folds. He massages between them, teasing your entrance and making an obscene, slick noise.
"No," you groan. You shift your hips, trying to tilt them further towards him to give him better access and to encourage him to keep going, "I'm just waiting."
"You're too impatient," he scolds. And his thumb slips inside of you. You whimper and quickly press back, seeking more, which forces him deeper into your entrance. He grumbles in disappointment, "Like that."
He feels along your walls in slow curls and draws, coating his digit in your wetness. Then he pulls his thumb out of you and drags it down along your folds, rubbing circles of your own moisture along your opening, until he finally runs it over your bundle of nerves. You cry out, still a little sensitive, and quickly muffle your voice into your arm.
"See? Isn't that better? To have my fingers on your clit so my cock can go inside of you?" There's a teasing edge to his voice that would normally have you huffy with irritation, if not for the fact that his thumb is still moving deliciously along your clit.
You nod against your arm, certain he can see you. He removes his thumb, and then something thicker is dragging firmly along your sex. The hard ridge of his cock pushes noisily, obscenely, down through the wetness he left behind as he rubs between your slick and swollen lips, coating you in more of it because he's still drenched from being inside of you.
"Oh, fuck," you whine.
"That's right," you can hear the smirk in his voice. He's enjoying this. Teasing you. Having the upper hand.
But, fuck, so are you. It straddles that line between scolding and playful.
You wonder how you can tip the scales in favor of scolding. Of feeling his hands on you in punishment while he fucks you. You rest your head between your arms with a quiet whimper.
He lines up, firmly nudging the head of his cock against your opening. You hold still to resist being impatient again. Rather than plunge forward, he pulls back hard on your hips, forcing you to sink onto his thick length. Your folds part and your body yields to him, engulfs him, already loose and slick, but not as much as you expected. It's as if you're clenching, resisting without resisting and—
"Oh," you say, a little dumbstruck. Your legs aren't spread open for him, which means your opening isn't spread open, which means—
"Fuck," he lets out a ragged breath. "Squeeze your thighs together."
You obey him, clenching your thighs and pressing your knees inward, even though they have nowhere to go except being forced together. He makes a strangled noise behind you, so you squeeze again. His hips draw back and he uses his grip to rock you forward, and then he slams into you, yanking you back to meet him. The pressure and friction inside of you is enough to work a needy whimper from your throat.
"You're so fucking—ah! So fucking tight," he whines and gives a shallow, savoring thrust into your heat. "You feel so good. So fucking perfect."
You glance at him coyly over your shoulder, sensing your opening to rile him up. "Sure it won't be you screaming my name?" You flex your thighs again and grind back against him. He grunts, but something inside of him latches onto your words and his face becomes stern.
"Is that what you think?" He squares his shoulders in a quiet rage, which is always more dangerous than an outburst, and you can see his mind working. Coming up with something on the fly to send you reeling, and a shiver of anticipation runs down your back, meeting where his hands are now claws on your hips.
"It is now," you stubbornly jut your chin at him.
"Then you do it." His grip slackens.
"Do what?" Your brows furrow in confusion.
"Fuck me if you think I would lose control that easily." He stares down at you in challenge. "But you only have a few minutes to make me scream your name. If you don't, I'm taking over again." His jaw clenches, and then he grits out, "and I won't be gentle."
You bite your lip as you pretend to consider it. Either you manage to ruin him or he destroys you and you DO end up screaming into your arm. How is this even a threat?
Wait.
…how is this even a threat ? You narrow your eyes suspiciously at him because you're now fully aware there's a catch somewhere. And you're about to discover it by blindly fumbling around because fuck if you aren't going to take the bait.
Because what a way to learn a lesson.
You clench the muscles in your thighs and your sex, and you roll back against him, forcing him to slide deep within you. Your walls grip tightly to every inch of him, pull at his length, and you draw an involuntary moan from him as you drag yourself up to the head of his cock.
"Deal," you gasp.
Then you put your whole body into getting him off. You rock onto him while on your forearms and knees, lifting off the bed far enough to get leverage to gyrate your lower half in time with your thrusts. The circular roll of your hips requires you to flex anyway, so every pump onto his member clenches and drags at his foreskin, as if you're fucking him and jerking him off at the same time.
He grunts and swears behind you. Though his hands rest loosely on the curve of your hips, you can feel his fingers twitching. He wants to grab you. He wants to fuck you. And that is such an intoxicating, powerful feeling—getting him to the brink of control, stretching the limits of his willpower and knowing he could break at any moment. Like when his fingers flexed in your hair while you were blowing him.
Part of you doesn't want to make him come because you want him to snap. You ache for it. You want him to drive your climax from you until you can't think and then spend himself deep within you. But you also know this is a rare opportunity for you to be in control. And there are so many more opportunities for him to show you later.
His grunts turn into groans, so you speed up. You wish you had a wall or a headboard to brace against rather than using your arms to help you rock back against him. It's less effective and you're using more arm strength to compensate, but working the floor all day has given you the stamina to keep up for a while longer. Thankfully your pace isn't brutal like his. It doesn't need to be as long as you can keep working him with each thrust.
Just when you think you have him edging towards his climax, his hands shift from your hips to grip your ass. He squeezes along the swell of your cheeks, pressing them firmly together and massaging them outward as you rock back onto him. Even though you know, logically, you have no modesty in this position to begin with—or in a few of the others he's had you in—you feel exposed. You squirm against him in discomfort.
But he doesn't stop there. He works his hands in closer. He runs his thumbs along either side of your cleft before he stops to part your cheeks and hold them open.
"Kino…" you gasp in sudden concern and your movements slow.
"What's wrong?" He asks absentmindedly, not looking up from where his thumbs have begun kneading on either side of your hole. The soothing pressure of it opens you up even more, and you quickly clench to keep the ring of muscle there closed tight. He makes an appreciative low groan in his chest.
"What are you doing?" You can't stop the trepidation in your voice.
"Admiring you," is all he says.
"Okay." You bite your lip and force yourself to relax. Force yourself not to blush as you feel his eyes leering over where he's buried inside of you—and where he isn't. Force yourself to try to continue rocking back against him.
You yelp in surprise when a thumb barely brushes over your opening and, out of instinct, you attempt to scramble away from him. He grabs one of your hips in a vice-like grip and holds you there so you're just grasping along the bed instead of going anywhere, but his thumb stops its exploration.
"Kino!" You grunt out, now horrified.
"You don't like it?" He doesn't sound particularly upset or disappointed, just curious.
"I…" you're once again forced to stop and fucking think about your own sexual history. Because you had tried it exactly once and you hated it.
But.
The guy you had been with barely got you wet, even during sex, which also wasn't great because he didn't get you off either. You still can't believe he talked you into it. So…no? Yes? Maybe?
You let out a noise of frustration. "I don't know?"
"There seems to be a lot of that tonight," he mumbles, still staring down between your cheeks.
"Yeah, well, it's really difficult to think back fondly on nearly two decades of lackluster fumblings with you sending me into hyperspace every night," you huff, frustrated and a little embarrassed. "I'm starting to think I didn't actually enjoy anything until you did it to me. It's incomparable."
"Has anyone…?" He pumps into you and squeezes your ass for emphasis.
"Yes. He—" you stop to let out an uncomfortable laugh. "You know, I never thought I would be talking about this with your cock in me."
"I can take it out if you prefer," he murmurs.
"No!" You push back against him, trying to keep him there, and you just know there's a smirk on his face. You sigh, "I was young and I was kind of dating a guy—"
"Kind of?" He teases.
"Yes," you protest, "kind of. We hadn't been dating very long, but I thought I liked him. The sex was horrible, though. Didn't have a single orgasm. I…let him talk me into it thinking it would—fuck, this is embarrassing—thinking he would like me. And it was so terrible, I broke up with him and I refused to try it again. But…it wasn't with you, so…" You blush and trail off, needing to turn away so he can't see your face.
"No, it wasn't." He says quietly.
"I told you," you shrug, "you're incomparable to anything I had before."
"I could make you feel good," he whispers. When you whine instead of responding because you know he could, he continues, "Would you let me fuck you here?" His voice is low as his thumb rubs firmly against your other entrance again. A moan tumbling from your own lips surprises you, and your hips jerk towards his hand beyond your control. Because holy shit that actually felt…good that time?
"Yes," you purr without any hesitation, "I'd let you do anything you want to me." You know it's distressingly true. You're starting to think there isn't anything you wouldn't give him. Or wouldn't want him to give you. You want him to do things to you that you don't even have the words for.
"Hmmm." He makes an intrigued noise. "Noted. Also your time has run out."
It's all the warning you get before he's leaning over you, one hand now braced on your lower back. The weight behind it pushes your hips down, forcing your knees to slide with it until you catch yourself, angling you down towards the bed. Then he has a hand on the side of your face and he's crushing your cheek down into the mattress. You cry out in surprise, which comes out slightly muffled from the way your face is being squished by his palm.
Then you realize: he was distracting you. He was teasing your ass so you would slow down and lose.
There's a flush of anger in your belly because he was never intending to play fair. That was the fucking catch. He just wanted to watch and enjoy you fucking him, knowing what he was going to do anyway. The anger twists into scalding lust at the first hint of embarrassment that washes over you. Then you're mad about how much that turns you on. How your arousal throbs and drenches around him. About how he knows it.
You open your mouth to protest, but without saying anything or letting you get a word in, he sets a relentless pace, hammering down into you. You have to clench and brace yourself to keep from sliding further, and every thrust into you is a test of your own strength. One which he is winning, you realizing as your knees slip another inch.
For too long, all you can do is desperately try to keep your position and let him fuck you. Even shifting or writhing beneath him would be all the submission he needs to force you flat onto your belly. And it feels good, god it feels good, but you're so focused on your body, that you can't truly enjoy the way your closed thighs force friction and pressure against your g-spot. Or the way his balls hit and rub against your nerves with every thrust.
It's frustrating, like seeing something out of the corner of your eye, but it's gone by the time you turn your head. You let out a discouraged huff.
Then he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls back, attempting to lift you up off of the bed. You scramble to get your arms under you so you can move with his hand, relieving most of the pressure on your scalp. His hand on your lower back forces you to arch towards him rather than lean against him, and he continues yanking on your hair until your head is tilted back and you're practically looking up at him. Once you're in the position he wants, he removes the hand on your back and settles it over your belly, holding you up.
"Finally get sick of that?" He growls into your ear.
"Yes!" You whimper. "It wasn't…"
"Good?" His raspy voice finishes for you. "That's because it was supposed to be frustrating."
"But—" you sputter.
"Had to punish you somehow."
"Fuck!" Anger settles back over you. "I just wanted it rough, Kino."
"I know. And I was going to give it to you," he rumbles down at you, "then you opened your mouth." He tsks at you. "Brat."
"You were enjoying it too much," you hiss.
He tugs back on your hair and you cry out in pain.
"I was enjoying it just fine. I was adjusting." He's almost too collected for how hard he was just thrusting into you. "You were going to get fucked."
You let out a little sob, and if you could hang your head in anguish, you would.
"Poor thing." His hand strokes over your belly, teases up towards your breasts. Then he leans close to whisper in your ear, "Would you like to?"
"Yes, Kino, please," you blurt out with no hesitation, uncaring how desperate it makes you seem, and the words continue spilling from your lips. "Please fuck me. I'm still so fucking wet for you! I need you. Make me come with your cock. Make me come so hard—make me scream! Please."
"Hmmm," he hums, pleased, behind you. He pumps into you, and you cry out in relief. "How can I say no to that?"
He releases your hair and you drop your head down, twisting back and forth, letting the muscles and tendons in your neck stretch and relax. He waits patiently until you're finished before plunging into you again, and you're so grateful for those little moments where he's tender and thoughtful, even in the middle of being rough. Where you know how much he wants you to enjoy it, too.
God, you love him.
Then both hands are on your stomach, and he's groping upwards, feeling his way along your ribs until he drags his calloused palms over your breasts. This time you arch back of your own accord, pressing your chest forward into his hands, eager for more. He rewards you by fondling you as he thrusts into you.
His lips find your shoulder and he kisses towards your neck, pausing occasionally to bite and grunt into your flesh. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to leave half moon impressions behind—and to leave you whimpering.
You turn your head to capture his mouth, and he crashes his lips messily into yours. You both moan in relief at the contact. The downside of this position is not being able to kiss him whenever you want, and, fuck, do you love kissing him. And touching him. And looking at him. God, this is torture. His tongue finds yours and you yield to him, letting him be in control of plunging into you there as well. Let him twist and stroke his tongue into your mouth, and nip at your bottom lip.
You both kneel there for a few minutes, kissing, rocking against each other, and him teasing your nipples under his palms and fingers while you make needy noises into his mouth. Then he breaks the kiss, leaving you slack jawed and panting against his lips.
"This is lovely, but the angle isn't good enough for what I want to do to you," he says in a husky voice as you whimper against him. "Get back onto your stomach." With one last squeeze over your breasts, he lets go of you so you can return to the bed.
But your back is stiff from bending for so long at such a sharp and unnatural angle. So when you lean forward too quickly, one of your muscles tightens into a knot. You hiss in pain and nearly recoil as you freeze in place. You put a bracing fist in the middle of where it hurts as you slowly press and stretch it out, trying to force it to unknot so you can maneuver down as fast as you can without hurting yourself more.
He must realize because then both of his strong hands are on you. He nudges your fist out of the way and slowly runs his hands up your back, working the tight muscles with his thumbs. At first his touch is too firm on the tender knots and you cry out in pain. But as he kneads them, rolls them under his grip, they begin to uncoil and relax beneath the effort and you practically melt into his hands. He encourages you to lower down to the mattress as he follows you, massaging a few more circles into your flesh to make sure they don't seize again.
"Better?" He sounds genuinely concerned and your heart flutters.
"Much," you sigh. "Thank you."
"Hips, too," he instructs. "We'll give your poor back a break."
You wiggle and shift until you're prone on your stomach with your arms crossed above your head, which is much more comfortable than forcing your spine to bend at an extreme angle. Your hips are still tilted and jutting in the air to give him access to your entrance, but it takes less effort to maintain slightly raised as opposed to on your knees.
Behind you, Kino straddles your thighs. His erection is still inside of you, but not nearly far enough. All your squirming into position worked him somewhat loose. You'd be impressed at his ability to move with you, if not for the fact that you are not a patient woman. And you want him back inside of you. Want to feel full of him.
"I'm still not going to take it easy, so you TELL me if you hurt, okay?" His voice is firm and leaves no room for argument.
"Yes, Kino. I promise," you say as seriously as you can to reassure him.
He studies the side of your face for a moment, and finally gives you a satisfied nod. Then he spreads his knees wider, bracing himself on the bed. The implication of it—that he needs the extra leverage—sends your face into the mattress to muffle a moan. His hands grasp your hips, too, and he leans into it until his weight is putting enough pressure on you to deepen your indentation in the foam.
When you come up for air, his thumb strokes over your hip. A feather light show of affection. Just a reminder—before this starts, before you're both delirious and lost in each other—that he loves you. That this is how he shows you how much he loves you.
Because Kino Loy is in love with you.
The thought is unfurling and flowering in your mind when he thrusts the rest of the way into you, slotting into place like he belongs there as you cry out. It's heady, being full of him. You could have sex with him every day and a decade from now, he could thrust into you and it would still be devastating. He can shatter your entire world with just his cock.
He pauses. Adjusts his knees. Slants over you. Readies himself while you squirm beneath him, rubbing your legs together, lifting your hips, aching in his grasp.
"Hold still," he scolds and swats your ass. Not hard, just enough to get you to stop in shock. You gasp and flush, hot with arousal, and fight against squirming even more than before. You mentally curse the open cells because you know he can't do it again—or do it harder. At least not without the whole block knowing what's happening.
Finally he moves, but he doesn't pull back. He rolls further inside of you. He squishes your ass cheeks forward with the depth of his grinding. Then he rocks back, hips barely leaving yours, and he does it again.
"Fuck!" You both cry out at the same time—his is gruff and raw, and reverberates deep in his chest. Yours comes out as a high, needy whine that devolves into sobs.
Then continues rocking into you, faster, letting his weight and strength push his length inside of you. Through all of it, he never leaves your opening. Never leaves any space between his hips and yours. He lets the friction, the depth of every movement, send both of you into fits of moaning whenever he angles just right or you squeeze your thighs together.
And god, the slide of him through your clenched folds makes you aware of parts of yourself you didn't think could feel pleasure like this before. Your swollen lips, the press of your ass shifting muscles deep within you, even your walls feel more sensitive when he drags so forcefully against them.
Your legs start to squirm uselessly behind you since you can't rock back against him or lift up to meet his thrusts. The constant motion must flex your core as well because he starts hissing and sucking in sharp breaths each time you cross your ankles—which you start doing intentionally, just to drive him mad. And it isn't long before his movements become a little more rough. A little more insistent.
He braces more of his weight onto your hips and you swear you can feel your bones shift under his hands. There's more pressure than pain, though, and you're completely flattened to the mattress, wedged between it and him. Now he's using his grip for more leverage, which allows him to use his knees to push instead. Then he drills into you and fuck, you didn't think he could get deeper. His hips start to pull back far enough to meet your ass with a wet slap, no longer just shifting and sliding with you.
With a frustrated "shit," he drops to a hand, plants it next to your shoulder and hovers over your back. The angle inside of you shifts, too. He's pounding down with each thrust, relentlessly hitting that exquisite spot inside of you. The one behind your clit that sends alluring tension up through your belly and bones. It builds with each new thrust.
His head is lowered close enough to your ear that you can hear his low breathing. The way he's focusing on pumping into you. You turn your head to the side so you can see his face and to let him grunt and pant against your cheek and fuck, that's hot. Your eyes flutter with it and your lips part in bliss as you let the sound wash over you.
"Are you enjoying laying there and letting me fuck you?" He catches the expression on your face and growls as he arches into you.
"God, yes!" You bite back a whine. "You feel so good."
"And have you ever been properly fucked from behind?" He buries his nose behind your ear, plants his lips firmly into your hairline, and lets out another low grunt when his hips press deep.
"By you," you grit out as his length strikes hard into that spot again, sending you reeling. "Only you."
"Because you're mine," he rumbles. "I will find every way there is to claim you and make you take me." His voice becomes harsh and insistent. "I will make you wet and make you beg, and when you behave, you will come every single time. You will never be neglected again. Not with me."
The last part is said with such conviction that you're dizzy with it. You throb with it. Because it's a promise. A vow. It's also the closest glimpse you've ever gotten to knowing he sees a future for the two of you, you realize. Something beyond this. It's undeniable proof that he thinks about what comes after cells and uniforms and shifts. And you know you would happily kneel before the altar of him and worship for the rest of your life if he let you.
"I love you, Kino," you whimper.
"I love how you—" he lets out a strangled groan, "love how you take my cock. You're so good for me. So fucking perfect."
"All for you," you swear with a gasp. There is heat pooling between your thighs and your attention has begun to hone in on it, tugging your mind away from coherent thought. "Anything for you."
"Then I want you to come for me." His gravelly voice thrums down your spine and you shiver. You claw uselessly against the mattress, looking for something to fucking hold on to as your limbs begin to quake and tremble. "It makes you so wet for my cock." He places an open mouthed kiss on your jaw, letting his tongue and teeth drag and scrape across your skin. "I want you dripping."
"Kino," you sob, "please, I'm close."
"Not good enough." His hips speed up, each thrust into your nerves sending sparks through you as you lay there and try to catch fire.
"Right there," you slur, dazed, igniting, close to being gone completely. "Fuck."
"Are you going to scream for me?" He growls.
You don't answer. Can't. You go rigid under him, every muscle in your body flexing and each nerve ending activating as if you stepped out onto the hot floor. As if you're braced to plummet off a ledge and into freefall. Then he starts grunting again from the effort of fucking you, and it's one of your favorite sounds in the entire fucking universe.
So you do. You clench your eyes shut and fall.
When you climax, there are stars behind your eyelids. Infinite churning furnaces that expand and explode with you, yielding to entropy—the heat death of the universe contained within your core, searing through your groin and up your belly. You burn. It's death without dying.
Through it all you wail and cry his name while your hips flex and try to grind onto him. Your walls clamp down around him, clenching greedily at his cock. Your voice and your body surrendering and wanting for nothing but him. Knowing nothing but him.
"Just like that." He moans and curses over you, rocking hungrily into your flutters and spasms. "I never want to leave this. I want to stay right here," he presses into you so hard your hips lift from the bed, "buried inside of you while you try to drain me as you come. They're going to have to come down and drag me away from you."
Your heart swells. It's so bloated within you that your ribs ache with it and there is no room left for your lungs. You gasp uselessly, desperately, for air. For relief.
"Kino," you manage to choke out. Still the only word your mind can conjure. The only one that matters.
He pushes away from you suddenly, rises to his knees, and pulls out of you with no warning.
"Flip over," he barks out, uncharacteristically impatient, and you know he must be close. You scramble to obey, turning as fast as your lethargic limbs will let you—only stumbling once—and then collapsing onto your back.
He dives into your arms, finding where he fits perfectly against you with no hesitation. Where he belongs, you think. You fold around him, one leg hooked behind his thigh and the other lazily draping over his hips.
He spears back into your slick heat with a groan. His aim isn't perfect, it's needy, but your entrance is so wet that he slips in without having to fumble between your legs. Then he's pounding into you. You jolt at each impact, and the force rattles little breaths from your lungs.
A hand comes to the side of your neck, cups it while his thumb caresses lovingly over your throat and jaw. His lips and nose brush across your skin, kissing and panting and slowly nuzzling. Such a gentle contrast to the punishing snap of his hips and the bruising grip of the hand that has latched onto your thigh. Because he's holding on to you, frantically, as if you might try to escape. As if the only thing that matters is chasing his release between your legs.
You nuzzle back, wanting to feel every part of him that you've been missing. Wanting to breathe him in and fill your lungs with his scent. You run your hands through his hair, the stubble on his jaw, and over his chest. Insatiable despite having two orgasms.
You gasp his name like a call and he grunts yours in answer into your cheek.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come," his voice is tight and ragged.
"I want it deep, Kino," you beg into his ear. "Make it hurt."
The tender touch of his hand vanishes as he clamps down on your jaw as hard as the hand on your thigh. Before you can whine with pain, he pushes your head back so he can muffle a groan that is wrenched from his chest into your throat.
"Fuck!" He snarls, baring his teeth against your skin. Your heart stutters in thrill at your vulnerability. At how exposed you are again.
He buries himself into your wet heat. Presses so brutally that he slides both of you along the mattress until your back catches on the vinyl and he's pushing uselessly against you. Then he throws his head back. His face is contorted in anguish and rapture—eyes clenched shut and his mouth frozen in a sob—as he hovers just on that edge, and it's fucking breathtaking. Everything about him is raw and scruffy and hard and lined with age, and he's so god-damned perfect, you think. Irresistible, like reaching for an open flame. His fingers digging into you, his fuzzy belly on yours, his sculpted shoulders, his full lips, his bared, imperfect teeth, his nose—that brief moment of stillness before he comes undone, burning itself into your memories.
Finally, he's moaning, a broken, guttural sound, as he's falling into his climax and spending himself inside of you. His cock throbs so hard that you can feel every pulse of his release, every contraction that starts in his balls before it's wrung out and floods your core. God, he feels so incredible. You grind your hips against him, wanting more of it. Trying to milk every last drop and bit of ecstasy, and it draws a growl from him.
He retreats back for another deep plunge and his knees buckle from exhaustion and the intensity of his orgasm. With a grunt, he collapses on top of you, but then he quickly arches his hips into you to finish the thrust anyway. He scrambles to push off of the mattress with his toes, drags himself forward using your hips as more leverage, and he slides against you. Rocks through the final tremors of his release.
When he finally stops, he's shaking over you, still trembling from the force of his climax. He drops the rest of his weight onto you with a heavy exhale and settles his head onto your chest. He lays there for a moment, listening to your heart pounding beneath him and letting the rhythm calm him. His legs and hips start to relax as well, no longer arched and pressed into you, which causes his length to slip out of your now very slick sex. His spent cock twitches on your inner thigh.
You shift to look down at him, gasping for air and having no idea how you're so out of breath when all you really did was lay there and get ravaged. You hug him to you, wanting to feel as much of his skin against yours as you can, but he shakes his head and pulls away.
"One more," he pants. "I want you to give me one more."
"What?" You stare at him in confusion, uncomprehending what he means. "One more what?"
"I want you to have one more orgasm while you're full of my come," he explains, winded, but patient.
"Fuck, Kino! I don't know if I can," you whine because what the fuck. How can he still be thinking about sex? How can he even move right now? How can—
"I know exactly how to get it from you, don't worry. Just lay here." He reaches out to cup your jaw, and his thumb tenderly traces your cheek. His face and his voice soften. "Let me love you."
And how the fuck do you say no to that? You nod at him before you even know what you're doing. Before you've even thought it through. It astounds you how eager you are to obey him sometimes. It's deeper than instinct. It's inevitability.
He slowly works his way down your body, obviously exhausted, and spreads your legs open before him. You know what he meant, then. How he plans to shatter your sense of awareness one last time, and you writhe and whimper. As tired and spent as you are, the thought resurrects a spark of want that starts in your chest, builds to your stomach, and reignites in your core.
He settles between your knees, sprawled on his belly along your small bed. Then he scoops your legs over his shoulders and pulls you closer to his mouth by your thighs.
"Fuck, look at your ruined, pretty little hole." He kisses your inner thigh as he continues to admire your glistening sex, and your skin quivers under his lips. "Your cunt should always look like this. You were made to be a mess from my cock."
He licks the inside of your folds, just at your entrance, dragging his hot tongue through the mixture of both of your fluids and spend as you gasp above him. He groans in pleasure. "You taste even better full of me."
He teases your entrance with the tip of his tongue, skimming and tracing along your swollen lips. And you're not going to fucking beg. You're not. You're not.
"I came so deep that you haven't started leaking properly. Yet." Then he widens his mouth over your sex and plunges his tongue inside of you, seeking his own seed. It's so filthy that your walls pulse and flutter around him while he presses in and out of your depths. Laps inside of you. He finally withdraws and drags his tongue up over your too sensitive clit. The frisson it sends through you is sharp and potent. It makes you desperate.
"Oh god, Kino! I need your mouth on me," you beg, immediately giving in at the intensity of your own yearning because fuck how could you forget how good he is at this? How did you think you wouldn't be a blubbering mess with his mouth on you?
"What do you say?" He asks, low and gruff, and flicks the tip of his tongue over your nerves again.
"Fuck! Please !" You shout. "Please please please ple—"
He covers your clit with his mouth, turning your pleading into a choking sound as you try to gasp and moan at the same time. His tongue sets to work, rubbing and swirling over you as his cheeks hollow with the gentle suction of his lips.
The lines on his face crease and deepen with concentration. His neatly combed hair is tousled from your fingers and the effort of fucking you. The stubborn curls, usually only obvious at the nape of his neck, have worked themselves free and one sticks out in defiance on the side of his head. The sight of him—disheveled, his jaw moving and flexing from working your clit, your wetness shiny in the stubble on his cheeks and jaw, and him gazing up at you from between your thighs—sends a fresh surge of need from your weak flesh.
Occasionally he pulls away to lick between your folds and his eyelids go heavy in pleasure. You would scream if you could breathe. If that hadn't knocked the wind out of you.
When he rubs his tongue back over your nerves, your body doesn't wait or tense. There's no building or teasing you while you're on the edge. You're already so loose and stimulated that you shoot up to your elbows and come immediately against his mouth.
Your climax burns from your core, out to your pelvis, then down your thighs. Your toes curl with it. Your walls pulse with it. Your entrance clenches and leaks an obscene trail of both of you down your slit and into the cleft of your ass. You cry out, but your voice is hoarse from all your moaning and screaming and lacks the intensity of your previous two orgasms—even though it still leaves you quaking and grabbing at his hair and grinding yourself against his mouth, riding out every last wave.
After your hips finally stop and the little tremors of your aftershocks subside, you collapse back to the mattress with a whimper. He pulls his head away from your clit to admire you. Watches you finally leak and drip his come with a look of awe on his face.
"That's better." Then his tongue flattens over you and he licks the entire length of your slit. Slowly. Gathering as much of the mess as he can. He groans appreciatively as he curls his tongue back into his mouth. You watch him savor it for a moment, and then swallow.
You begin to sob.
You can't help it. You're emotionally and physically spent, vulnerable and overwhelmed in a way you've never felt before, and that was too fucking hot for your lust fried brain to process right now. Which apparently translates into tears because you can't stop the way they start running down your cheeks.
He looks up at you, wide eyed in concern, and quickly makes his way beside you on the bed. Then he pulls you into his arms while you sniffle against him.
"What's wrong?" He tilts your chin up to look at him.
"I'm fine. I think you just broke me," you let out a watery laugh as you meet his eyes. "Apparently that was so god-damned hot that it was too much. You're too sexy, Kino. It overloaded my brain."
He gives you an incredulous stare and you let loose a wave of fresh tears.
"Shhh, hey, it's okay," he whispers. He presses his forehead to yours and cups your cheek, swiping the moisture there away with his thumb. "You were so good for me." He kisses the tip of your nose. "So good."
You flush under his praise and wipe at your eyes. "You were incredible. Every time we have sex, it's the best fucking sex I've ever had in my entire life."
"Good," he rumbles against you. "It's what you deserve. Not whatever the fuck those other assholes were doing to you."
You laugh, your whole body shaking with it, and you catch a small smile on his face. It's enough of a distraction that you let out a deep sigh and blink back the last few tears that hadn't fallen yet.
"Apparently setting me up to know exactly how damned lucky I am to have finally found you."
"That's my line," he grumbles.
"Why, you have a string of disappointing partners, too?" You yawn, now exhausted from, well, everything.
"Something like that," he says under his breath.
"What does that mean?" You blink heavily at him.
"It means there was always something missing, which is unsatisfying in a different way to not having a single orgasm for the entirety of a relationship." His voice deepens. "And you are very, very satisfying. In every way."
A thrill runs through your tired body at that. "I bet you always made sure the person you slept with finished." You snuggle closer to him.
"Of course I did," he sniffs. "I'm an asshole, not a monster."
"Mmmm. Never a monster," you mumble, your eyes closing. "Think you're amazing. Fucking…wonderful. Love you."
"I love you, too," he whispers.
You aren't sure how both of you got dressed. You remember a lethargic shifting of limbs and pull of fabric, but you were fighting to stay awake at that point. It's all so hazy. The only thing you're sure of is that now you're curled into his arms and laying half on top of him, your head is tucked under his chin, and your legs are tangled together. Your body thrums with love for him and a bone deep satisfaction.
You hold possessively at his waist, as if he could somehow sneak out in the middle of the night and leave you to wake to an empty bed, alone. Or that you might open your eyes in the morning and find the last few weeks have been a dream. That he grabbed you by the jaw and cracked you so deeply that you imagined all of this to save yourself from shattering.
As if he can sense your thoughts or feel the stiffening of your body, he hugs you tightly to him and kisses your hair.
"I love you," he whispers, and you melt, releasing that last bit of tension. You open your mouth to say it back, try to fight to get the words out before you can't. But you've tipped too far towards unconsciousness now to manage it.
Your last thought before the darkness takes you is, oh, hell, he knows.
A/N: Fun Easter egg about this chapter: I'm a dramatic, desperately hopeless romantic that loves angst. I don't know if any of you've picked up on that. I've been really subtle about it. (sarcasm)
I was really struggling writing this because, FOR SOME DAMN REASON, I was struggling writing romantic smut. And then my brain went, okay but what if you just…didn't?? So I made it romantic AND filthy, which fits better anyway, and was much easier for me to write. (Curious 💅)
✨An actual fun science lesson Easter Egg about this chapter!✨ I used the comparison of binary stars in chapter 10:
"Like binary stars, bound and endlessly drawn towards one another until they're destined to merge—or to destroy each other."
Usually binary star systems fall apart when one evolves into a white dwarf first and consumes the other one, causing it to gain more mass, exceed the limit of its stability, and go supernova. Anytime at least one white dwarf is involved in a binary star supernova, it's called a Type 1a Supernovae.
It's rare, but occasionally both binary stars evolve into white dwarfs at the same time. (The reason it's so rare is because the stars have to be incredibly similar to have a parallel evolution, otherwise one would evolve first and likely destroy the other.) White dwarfs are very dense and, as a result, have a powerful gravitational pull. The stars are slowly drawn towards each other in their orbit until they eventually collide, creating the Type 1a Supernovae that way. I've always thought there was something very romantic about them being so perfectly matched that they burn together, as if they were soulmates.
A Type 1a Supernovae is also one of the brightest events that occur in our universe. 🙂 Space is cool, y'all.
NEXT CHAPTER->
#kino loy#kino loy x reader#kino loy x f!reader#i want you to show me weak fic#andor fanfic#fanfiction#andor#andy serkis
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Holy shit I just read the preview for Damnation V and IV and I am NOT going to be normal about this. AHHHH. I cannot wait for the fics to drop. I am already loving the set up for both. Shout out to Iago MC, they're hilarious and took up their role very quickly lol. I am especially excited for Pomefiore as a resident simp for that dorm. The way you wrote Vil is fantastic as usual and I can already feel some kind of tension between them. Also Rook and Epel were amazing as well.
Also, side note, but I LOVE the way you describe the characters' outfits in every story. Really puts me into the setting immediately and they are always so creative <3
Whew, haven't had a lot of time to respond to stuff in the inbox so I'm gonna try to answer as much as I can today while I have this opportunity.
I'm really glad that people are enjoying the Scarabia and Pomefiore sneak-peeks! Unfortunately, I haven't had time to work on them at all beside think about potential ideas for them for a few minutes. But other than that, not much process was done. Sorry about that.
I'm going to try and taken my time with them, because I don't want them to feel rushed. I don't want to eventually post them and then end up hating it or feeling like it could have been way better. So yeah, that's why it's taking so long. Hoping to give y'all more funny Parrot/Vassal MC moments and Vil scenes y'all can enjoy.
Actually, I usually look up inspiration on Pinterest when thinking of the clothing, especially for the mc. I think I posted some inspiration and images for Savanaclaw when someone brought them up, but that was in another post. But I'm glad you're liking them! I'm trying to keep it fitting for the region the story would have taken place in, with bits of cultural elements to some of them, but not too detailed, you know?
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Whew chile, emotions all over 😭 Ima apologize now for this long behind ask lmao. Okay so, I completely understand where Indya is coming from. You go through all the shit you do in life (extra tough in her case), make it out, and do your best to make sure you and your family never have to revert to those circumstances just for your child to decide that they finna bounce anyway. I’d probably be cussing Hope out too lmao. I don’t necessarily think that the delivery was the best especially given the rollercoaster they just went through but I get it, she’s hurt. BUUUUT, I also think that Indya has to understand that privilege and protection from the streets, trap house or mansion, doesn’t stop Hope from being an individual with thoughts and feelings. She should be entitled to feel however her parents make her feel (running ain’t the answer but also I’m sure that the constant embarrassment must be a lot on that underdeveloped prefrontal cortex) and maybe Mama and Papa Drake take the time to 1. Hear her out without going level 10 protector immediately and 2. Explain whyyyy they’re not with some of the shit she does. She might be more receptive. Lmao last thing I swear. I also think that Hope didn’t choose the streets because of Jayce but because of the principle and ofc how their reaction made her feel. Jayce’s situation just happened to be the straw that broke that poor camel’s back! Lmao again, so sorry for all this 💀 loving the story to pieces!
OOHHHH This is a good take love! And don't ever apologize for the commentary because I LIVE for it! I truly want to see how folks process these heavy scenes because, honestly, I get nervous writing them, they are heavy for me too (but I'm a writer so...). I don't know how folks will react to this real, raw and uncut shit I be posting LMAO! So thank you! And I definitely like options 1 and 2.
Y'all know the drill, stay tuned! Where is Darren about to ride out to with Hope? Will Indya be calm enough when they return to explain HER upbringing to Hope? Afterall, Hope doesn't know much about her momma's life either! We now see that Darren and Indya chose not to go into detail on how they grew up because they wanted Hope to know nothing but love and joy! While I can't blame them for that, I do see how that is not a good idea all the time, and as Hope gets older, she's going to naturally want to know more. It can't be rainbows forever.
Its like Darren said, Hope was so happy she almost cried when Darren finally opened up to her during that school project.
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Weekly Update for 7 June, 2023
WHEW WE'VE GOT ONE! IT'S BEEN SO LONG, SORRY Y'ALL
So, there HAS been work on MG:T! It's not as much as I'd like, but I do get a few words done a day on it. I'm hoping to steadily get the second scene of Chapter 7 done and then release it as a half chapter update, as it is fairly fucking big already. Like, between the mostly fully fleshed out Scene 1, partially done Scene 2, and the rough draft of Scene 3, we're at about 13,000 words already. I still haven't even touched the investigation in Scene 4.
I also have an active secondary project! It's more of an indulgent kind of thing, and it's letting me bring back a lot of my favorite OCs I've made and put them into a world together. It is of course a dark supernatural romance, and I am LOVING how it's coming so far.
Lastly, life is... a mess, lol. Change, change, change. I hate so much changing at once
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So that Kenyan woman artist I bought my first piece from in July of 2021,
The one married to the Black American man and he's a Kevin Samuels incel and she's a PickMe who thought it was cute that her man wanted to bat my intellect around on our first time hanging out?
I removed both of them from my followers a few months ago.
She figured out that I'd done that and refollowed me on IG last night,
Then slid into my DMs checking on me as she'd done like, three times before and I just ignored her,
So I finally fucking told her, bruh.
I didn't like how y'all did me.
I'm at YOUR house, YOUR turf
And this man is hitting me with Kevin Samuels rhetoric and you finding it entertaining, thinking that a man who has to ask me 'What's patriarchy?' is my equal, my match, and we should have "a show"?
I only debate my equals, all others I fucking teach, word to Dr. John Henrik Clarke, and a man I have to define words for is NOT my peer, and that incel shit is dangerous and misogynist AF.
So I told her I'm autistic so I have delayed emotional processing.
I know I left your home abruptly that day
But didn't realize why til later
I didn't feel safe.
A Kevin Samuels fan spouting that unread bullshit in my face made my fight or flight kick in
So she replied, "I'm sorry that you were hurt" and unfollowed me.
And I soooo wanted to be friends with her!
Met her officially at the Hebru Brantley show in like, 2017, and Fahamu Pecou's rude, mean ass was there, like,
I remember wanting to be friends with her!
But then I bought a piece from her, which I still like, and her husband hit me with Kevin Samuels rhetoric and she found it funny and I went without saying anything for too long, for like, over two years
Because people KNOW what they did, bruh
She knew
Then when I tried to pull the Whew, I'm Tired she told me to go upstairs and lay down?
On our first time hanging together AFTER this li'l short man been battering me and disregulating my nervous system for two hours?
Tuh.
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Our baby is back y'all 🥳🥳💙💙
Summary: Mustafa makes his comeback to RAW and runs into the reader. He's always liked her and decided it's time for him to let her know that.
RAW is in Pheonix for the night. You're standing in the ring at the corner bouncing on your heels while you wait for Liv to come down the ramp for your match. The crowd is super rowdy, probably because of the heat. They cheer for Liv more than they do you.
You don't mind much though, you've always been the underdog. "Alright, I've got this." You whisper to yourself as Liv gets to the ring.
The bell rings from the timekeeper's area off to the side of the ring and the match gets underway. You and Liv go at it back and forth for a bit until you're breathing hard and almost out of energy. In a last-ditch effort to pull the win, you climb up to the top rope and hit Liv with a missile dropkick to her sternum.
You scramble for the cover and manage to pull the win. The bell rings again and you pull yourself to your feet. This is your third win in a month.
You're back on your winning streak again. "Whew, you alright Liv?" You lean down and check on Liv while you catch your breath.
Liv flashes you a quick thumbs up to signal that she's fine and is just playing you up. You nod and roll out of the ring before you head up the ramp.
You skip through the curtain with a wide smile on your face and run into someone by accident. "Oh, sorry about that." You rattle off an apology. "Mustafa? Oh my gosh, you're back?" You hold your arms out for a hug.
Mustafa flashes that million-dollar smile and gladly hugs you. "Y/N, how have you been?" He asks you with a small laugh.
"I've been doing good, actually." You hug him tightly. "On my third win of the month. What about you? You look fantastic." You comment on his cheerful demeanor.
Mustafa chuckles again at your eagerness to see him again. It's been months since you last saw Mustafa. And the last time you saw him he was way edgier and dark.
You and Mustafa walk away from the curtain so you're not in the way of others anymore. "Good for you, Y/N! You've always been amazing in the ring." He compliments you. "And I feel good. Better than I have in a long time, actually."
"That's great!" You beam. "I'm happy to see you back in action. Backstage has been boring with you living it up."
"Awe, thanks, Y/N." Ali blushes a bit. "Wish me luck out there?" He asks you.
You giggle at the adorable look on his face and nod. "Good luck out there, Mustafa. Not that you'll need it." You fulfill his request and head back to the locker rooms.
You head back to the locker rooms to grab a quick shower and change into fresh clothes. Mustafa remains on your mind the whole time. That bright smile of his burned into your brain and torturing you relentlessly.
Mustafa heads out to the ring for his return match and his heart swells. It feels genuine this time. The crowd chanting his name and a fresh opponent out in the ring waiting for him. When Ali came back with retribution it never really felt right to him. Being a heel just isn't something that Ali is comfortable with. It isn't who he is.
Mustafa wears his heart and soul on his sleeve. He's passionate about his job, and ever other aspect of his life. And that's one of the reasons that he's so drawn to you. You share Ali's passion for life and for your job.
"Alright, time to shine." Ali hypes himself up right before the bell.
It's a hard battle, but Mustafa picks up the win. He feels both proud of himself and ecstatic to be back in the ring. But there is still something missing. Someone to share his victory and his passion with. You.
Ali walks backstage and makes up his mind. He's going to ask you out. Sure, there is no guarantee that you'll say yes. The two of you have always been just friend after all. But he owes it to himself to try.
You get dressed back into your normal clothes and are in the middle of toweling off your hair when someone knocks on the door.
You toss your towel over your shoulder and walk to the door to answer it. "Yeah? Oh, hey, Mustafa." You greet Ali at the door.
"Hey, Y/N." Mustafa offers you an adorable wave. "Can I come in?" He asks you.
You nod and step away from the door. "Sure, come on in." You beckon for him to follow you.
Mustafa nods and closes the door behind him after he comes into the room. You sit down in a chair and pick your towel back up for your hair.
"So, did you win your first match back?" You ask Ali with a curious smile.
"Yep," Mustafa confirms with a nod. "Anyway, I actually had something that I wanted to ask you." He informs you.
You nod and stop drying your hair. "Okay, what's up?" You ask.
Mustafa rubs the back of his neck nervously and searches for the right words to say. You sit idly and wait for him to ask his question.
"Y/N, I was wondering if maybe you'd wanna go out with me sometime? Like not as friends though." Mustafa asks his question finally.
You are a little surprised at the proposition. You've always liked Mustafa sure. But you were sure that he saw you as just a friend and nothing more.
You nod with a soft smile. "Yeah, I'd love to." You inform him. "I've actually had a crush on you for a while now." You laugh.
"Yeah?" Mustafa laughs with you. "Me too. So tomorrow night maybe?" He suggests.
"Sure." You nod. "I'm free. What did you have in mind?" You ask him.
Mustafa grows silent and thinks for a moment. He really didn't have the confidence that he'd get this far with you.
He thinks hard and an idea pops into his head. "Do you like museums?" He asks you.
"Yeah! I love them." You confirm.
"Great! I know this really cool one downtown." Mustafa beams. "I'll pick you up tomorrow morning." He gets up and walks over to hug you.
You nod and accept your hug as well as a kiss on the cheek. Mustafa leaves and you are free to be all giddy about your date in the morning.
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'Young Royals' Season 2: An unhinged and unhelpful guide (it's a reaction, let's be real) to the First Four Minutes (Part 1).
Okay, y'all this is kind of late but I had things to do... and it seems that even though I had those things to do, Netflix decided to drop the fIRST FOUR MINUTES OF SEASON 2 WHAT THEFUCK?!
Take a look at this shit before we get into it y'all.
youtube
Alright... are you still alive? Are you fighting for your life in the trenches that are the countdown to November 1st? Like, OCTOBER IMMA NEED YOU TO HURRY THE FUCK UP AND END BECAUSE THIS IS NOT THE WAY! WE HAVE SUFFERED ENOUGH!!
side note: do y'all think they sacked the netflix intern that said the season was dropping on the 2nd way back when we got the first photos?
0:02 SECONDS IN AND BITCH THE BREATHING?!?! HELLO???? I was 'babysitting' (the parents were at home but in another room so I was really just making sure they didn't hurt themselves/each other) when I saw this clip dropped so IMAGINE ME PRESSING PLAY IN A ROOM FULL OF CHILDREN I ABOUT DROPPED DEAD LET ME TELL YOU
Scene 1: Spliced together scenes of Simon Eriksson (Omar Rudberg) and Prince Wilhelm (Edvin Ryding) in an intimate embrace. Lots of tight shots of body necks, shoulders, hands holding tightly, noses in hair and on collar bones, and even a brief kiss.
The intimacy coordinators on this show are so??? like... brava. srsly. I'm happy Edvin and Omar get to work together and with such good IC's and directors because I imagine this level of comfort and ease with such heavily choreographed scenes can be difficult. And they really make it looks so natural and effortless.
Anyway, this is quite obviously a dream but I wonder if it could be a memory within a dream. Like, not only is Wille thinking of Simon in this moment but he's remembering what their time together was like and that longing is manifesting as a subconscious dream.
Scene 2: Prince Wilhelm wakes up alone in his room and it is revealed that Scene 1 was a dream he was having. The heavy breathing and quiet piano music fades into the sound of a vacuum cleaner as the light fades from gold to blue.
And I know 12 thousand people have already pointed this out but the slow fade from the warm and loving embrace of his dream to the cold blue tones of the real world where he wakes up alone in his bed? *chefs kiss* the DP/Director/Cinematographer/Anyone involved with lighting this show deserve the highest award. The way they work with colour and light is just magnificent.
Scene 2, continued: Prince Wilhelm sits up in bed in his messy room (framed through a doorway), pulls on a discarded t-shirt.
This is either a gentle reminder that this is a teenager and his room is likely always going to be messy or a visual representation of where Wille's life is: complete disarray. There are clothes everywhere, he picks up a t-shirt from the pile and puts it on without care.
He's going through it, y'all.
Also, in the spirit of unseriousness: damn, bitch. You live like this?
Scene 2, continued: Prince Wilhelm receives a text message from his cousin August (Malte Gardinger) which reads "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!".
I'm not gonna lie, this got a giggle out of me (bring back flip phones!). August, The Asshole of Arnas, has obviously been fighting tooth and nail to get in touch with Wilhelm and (AS HE MOTHER FUCKING SHOULD) Wilhelm is ignoring his ass. I bet that apology ain't even real.
Oh, I can't wait for him to stir up some mayhem.
Scene 3: Wilhelm walks past the vacuuming maid (who curiously does not acknowledge the Crown Prince) and down a dark hallway where he enters an empty room where a coat hangs from a low rack, a lone empty glass is on a round table before a window and a picture of Prince Erik hangs on the wall.
Here the tears go, y'all.
Fresh out of bed, hasn't even brushed his teeth or anything, the first thing he does is go to Erik's room. There's a single glass on a table and I'm not sure if that's some kind of ritual for mourning or if it's just a remnant of that room being lived in but all I know is that that empty glass got me going WHEW I HATE IT HERE!!!!
Scene 3, continued: Queen Kristina (Pernilla August) tries and fails to get Wilhelm's attention for a talk and imples that the two have not spoken since he returned from Hillerska at the end of last season. The Crown Prince closes the door in The Queen's face.
I don't know if Wilhelm passed her in the hall or if she followed him to Erik's room but it seems like Queen Kristina (who looks so good omg? Pernilla ily) and her favourite cousin are getting the same (DESERVED) silent treatment.
Now, I can't imagine losing a child and then having your only surviving one (and your heir to be exact) completely icing you out. That must sting as a mum. However, as a mum, it's really your job to protect your children until they can do it themselves.
Kristina has not been a very good mum and it's gonna (RIGHTFULLY) come back to bite her in the ass. She, at least, looks a little shameful in these shots. Mayhaps she'll even apologise and mean it. Mayhaps she'll actually dol out the consequences August SHOULD face for what he did. If not, I don't see this particular relationship improving anytime soon.
Sucks to suck, I guess?
Scene 3, continued: Wilhelm passes a hand over the coat reverently before trying it on himself. Kristina is apparently no longer at the door.
There is so much going on in this scene.
There is the symbolism of Wille putting on the late Crown Prince's jacket and the association with him stepping into that role and wearing that metaphorical jacket himself. There's also the fact that it's so ill fitting, both because Erik was obviously older than he was and perhaps a representation of Wilhelm not being the 'right fit' to fill the role of Crown Prince.
I wan't y'all to pay attention to that last shot of Wilhelm and notice how the jacket sort of hangs off him because idk if my eyes are playing tricks on me or what but... you'll see what I mean. OJO!!
(continued in Part 2!)
#young royals#young royals season 2#yr s2 spoilers#young royals netflix#prince wilhelm#prince wilhelm of sweden#queen kristina#queen kristina of sweden#simon eriksson#august of arnas#august horn#wilmon#edvin ryding#omar rudberg#pernilla august#netflix#Youtube
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Omg how was it bro lmaoo
Bro anon LMFAOO, I got you (kinda tmi under the cut, so warning for kinda sexual explicit content LOL), this got really long I'm so sorry 😭
(takes a deep breath) okay, SO lol first things first
I had actually seen this guy at a Halloween party I went to last semester, but right as I was gonna tell him that I thought he was cute, he left. And then I saw him on hinge and we matched! He goes to the same school I do, and he doesn't live too far away.
So, I matched with him and started talking to him, and he wanted to come over at like 10pm on Monday (today is Thursday as I write this) and I had come from a volleyball scrimmage and I was NOT in the mood to hook up
So I told him that, and he said that wasn't his intentions (which was a SHOCKER) so I let him come over 💀 LMFAO and we just cuddled and watched anime. And he didn't stay long cause I was tired asf, but like towards the end, he said that he had lied about not wanting to do anything, but I think that was because I wore really short shorts lmfaooo
We held hands for a while and then he had to leave, so I walked him to his car (he held my hand the whole time) and then he drove me back to my apartment. And then he told me that he really wanted to kiss me, but he never made a move lol, so I did. I made the first move! I kissed him first! Who would've thought? But yeah, he like never made a move on me or anything and that made me feel better
So then he said he was free the NEXT day (Tuesday) and I said he could come over lol cause I was gonna be gone for a whole week and I wanted some fun lmao. So, we just cuddled on the couch watching TV again (I'm not gonna tell you what we were watching bc you'll judge me LMFAO)
Anyway, fast forward like an episode later, and we're making out on the couch and then like five minutes later, he's eating me out LMFAOOOO, and his head game was pretty good honestly
So then, we move to my bed but then he goes an gets a condom, and not once did I ever think to like stop him, which isn't bad! I've messed around with a lot of guys, but I've always stopped it before it gets to this point, but with this guy I was kinda nervous but not enough to where I wanted to stop it
Bro he ate me out so much, I was like I mean sure, if you want to lmfao. I didn't cum, but he made me feel really good, so I'm not really upset about that honestly, and I'm pretty sure I'll see him again when I get back.
So, I was kinda worried because he wasn't very long, but he was lowkey really thick, so I was like 😬 sir you might rip me in half no lie. And the whole thing was like kinda awkward, but we laughed about it. But we did it in missionary, cowgirl, and doggy and in missionary, he had my legs shaking lmfao
And in cowgirl, my legs didn't get tired as soon as I thought they would, and doggy??? Whew chile, y'all.
I was SO LOUD. SO FUCKING LOUD. Like, I was almost crying. I could've cum from that, cause he was hitting good but not like the best spots. But honestly, I think doggy worked best because my whole like vagina (???) is tilted forward lol
So, after the first position, I thought we were done, so I slipped on my sweatshirt lol, but HE WAS NOT, and after I got on top, I thought we were done lol but he had flipped me over and eat me out for a bit AGAIN??? And he had already taken the condom off and tried to put it in RAW??? HELLO??? and I stopped him like instantly, I was like no sir you can't do that bc I haven't been on birth control in a couple of months lol
So after I told him that, he said that he was gonna look for another condom because, and I quote "I wanna fuck you again"
HELP??? HELLO???
In my head, my jaw was on the fucking floor, but I guess the 😺 is pretty good LMFAOOO🤭
And so after THAT, he asked me if I wanted to go AGAIN, I was like wtf this man's stamina. I know he's gonna wreck my shit when we have more time together lol
And surprisingly, I feel very normal (?) about everything that happened. Like then next time we hang out, I'm gonna ask him what he wants out of this whether that's a relationship or just fuck buddies, idrc, but we were both kinda tired, but he cuddled with me like for an hour
And he had to be up at 5am and I had to be up at 7am, but I told him he could stay over if he wanted to, I would set an alarm for him, but he said that he felt it would be better to just go home, which I was fine with.
Anyways, that's the rundown, but yeah, I honestly wasn't expecting to punch the v-card any time soon, so this is a massive surprise lol. It's not a big deal to me, and virginity is a social construct, but for a while I just wanted to get it over with, and this time I wasn't nervous or anything and I didn't really have any negative thoughts
We'll see if I see him next week, I REALLY want to because I haven't been able to stop thinking about him lol, so I'm hoping he comes back over. Also, anon, this is probably WAY more than you asked for, and I'm sorry lmfao
#im sorry this is so long lol#but the next time he comes#i'll probably get my shit ROCKED#🥝.ask!#🥝.no sticker kiwi!
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Oh Look, Even More Vignettes
You know the deal by now. Too long, UTC.
I Can't Stand Them (Part One) | Deuce - Dorm Uniform
Starting off with math, what a bad start.
ADK;ALKDA;LDKLSADAS
NOT ACE COMPLANING BUT BEING DONE
BRO
I'm sorry?
Thirty pages?
Whew mans is big bad at math.
But math hard, so it makes sense
OOP RIDDLE-SAN
DON'T BULLY HIMB
Finna pull out the flash cards
Oh just a book.
Oh! A callback to Riddle's Dorm Uniform story!
Oh yeah... kinda forgot that Duece was a delinquent, so he really just didn't learn it.
I Can't Stand Them (Part Two) | Deuce - Dorm Uniform
We are still working on this math I see.
BRO ARE YOU NOT DONE YET
ITS THE UNBIRTHDAY
Oh
Fun with math!
...
Girl not y'all talking shit on the day of the unbirthday
Catch that collar
NAH NAH
SAY IT WITH YOUR CHEST DUECE
What is Vargas doing here?
Oh lol
WHO THE HELL LET THE HEDGEHOGS FREE
WHO LET THE RAINBOW FLAMINGOS OUT
I Can't Stand Them (Part Three) | Deuce - Dorm Uniform
OH GIRL THEY GOT OUT
Hey Rook!
Rook just be talking but at least he's gonna help
IT WAS YOU
BEAT THEY ASS
PERIODT
HE DON'T NEED MAGIC
HE GOT HANDS
*PATHTIC FLEEING*
...
Now I need Ace's Dorm Uniform
Cuz I knew something was up
but now I really need to know
Oh no
is that the feeling of wanting to write for my boys again
It's About the Aesthetic (Part One) | Idia - Labwear
Idia I swear to god if you don't hangout with your brother
CAN'T BELIEVE THIS SHIT
Upgraded the damn goggles
...how do they get cold?
Mans is a fake gamern not gaming hard enough
Okay, yes to the sweaty hands
THIS MAN IS WEARING PAJAMAS
Omg he's been gaming for hours
Can relate
How's the genshin event (2.8) treating ya?
2AM
F
Bro literally just take off the coat, goggles and gloves and you're good.
It's About the Aesthetic (Part Two) | Idia - Labwear
Alright, who's gonna catch him?
Not my fault that I'm a RPS master, Grim
wait
ACE?
...so is then when he slept over or...?
adds to note
And we're watching a movie???
OMG NO
IDIA
IDIA
YOU'RE SCARING THE BABY
Oh god
I forgot he likes cats
He kinda is a cat...
OMFG YOU KILLED MY CAT
JUST LEFT HIS BODY THERE
Ace: You see somethin'?
Me: Omfg he fucken dead
LMAO
I love how he calls Grim. Mr. Grim.
NOT HIM CONFISCATING HIS LABWEAR
It's Okay (Part One) | Ortho - Burst Gear
Grim, your the magic of this bit. Come onnn.
Okay I agree but it do be practical magic, so that's kinda the point.
Then do it.
Then be devoured.
Thanks, Ortho.
Grim: Ion what you just said, but I think its cool!
My heart... He just wants to spend time with his brother.
...
One day, Idia. You gotta give him one day.
VIL DON'T BE A FUCKEN BITCH
It's Okay (Part Two) | Ortho - Burst Gear
NOT THE GPS
MANS GOTTA TRACKING DEVICE ON HIM
Malleus, don't be saying nothing cryptic that'll make him--
wait nevermind I read that
The girls finna fight
LIKE BRO
MALLEUS ARE YOU MAD BECAUSE NO ONE TOLD YOU
THAT'S YA OWN FAULT
KEEP UP WITH THE SHIT AROUND YOU BRO
I'm gonna box.
Damn, he really relieved that whole thing.
Then when Grim and Yuu asked he was like:
"Nah that shit hurt too much"
Want to Repay My Debt (Part One) | Silver - Ceremonial Robes
Silver, I know yo ass didn't just wake up and start barkin
I'm very surprised Idia just went Otaku on a stranger but more power to him.
BUT GO I OFF I GUESS???
PERIODT
Imma be real I was only half paying attention to that
Want to Repay My Debt (Part Two) | Silver - Ceremonial Robes
shut the fuck up about dallies bro.
I actually need to do my genshin dallies.
KNOCKED OUT
I do agree, Idia. Silver is handsome.
Mans has a whole animation for waking up wow
Idia a lot of people didn't even know who you were till book 6
Which yeah will be patrolling and shit while Malleus is at Ramshackle at like 3 am.
and then Idia learned the truth
Nevermind he didn't pick up on it.
Either way, Idia I'm pretty sure you've done raids with Lilia.
Twisted Ramblings
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Switch: The Other Side Pt 10
An: I wish y'all knew what I was going through for this 😭 but it's finally here before the end of the year. The end of my very first fanfic. Whew! It was an undertaking for sure. Crazy that it's actually finished. I'm grateful for anyone who found it, reblogged it and read it all. Much much love and a happy new year to you all!
Masterlist is here!
Genre: Romance, fluff, angst, smut
Cw: 18+ (mdni), cuss words, hospital imagery, talks of cheating, sex stuff, p in v
Synopsis: Aged up Married Pro hero! Deku, Bakugo and Uraraka
The truth comes out
Katsuki slipped into the room and quietly shut the door behind him. He leaned against the door for a moment, strangely needing a moment to recover himself. It wasn’t just finding out what he just found out but it was seeing her again. He suddenly wanted to ask her everything. He hadn’t realized how much he really missed her until just then. He sighed.
“Katsuki?” Kami called him from the bed. She seemed a little drowsy but otherwise fine.
He approached her, pulling up the same chair Deku had occupied earlier. “Hey, Doll,” He reached out and ran his hand over her head. It felt strange to do. He wasn’t very affectionate but somehow he was trying to be comforting. Perhaps because their worlds were such a mess. “You feel better?”
She nodded slowly. “The doctor gave me drugs.”
He chuckled. “Good. I’m sorry I made you worry earlier.”
“No, no,” She tried to sit up. “I’m sorry I used my quirk on you. We promised we’d never and I-”
He waved a hand trying to calm her. “Don’t worry about it. I know why you did it. You were protecting the man you love.”
She fell silent, looking pensive.
“I know everything, Doll,” he told her softly.
He didn’t have enough time to process the tears that started to fall from her eyes. “Oh, Katsuki.” She whimpered. He’d never seen her so blubbery, it surprised him. She was also probably high on painkillers. “I didn’t think any of it was going to happen. I was bitter about you. I knew we were drifting apart, but when I heard what you’d said, I wasn’t even surprised. I think I was more bitter that you even found someone else to keep your attention while I was so lonely at that point. And Deku was…”
She trailed off, the look in her eyes getting dreamy. He could almost see it, as if she was replaying their whole relationship in her head, falling in love all over again.
He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to tell me, I know what he’s like.” He chuckled.
She sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t handle things better. I could’ve made better decisions. Ochaco wasn’t happy with me at times either-”
“Wait,” She sat all the way up, looking more alert. “So it is Ochaco.”
“Oh,” The color in his cheeks started to match that of his eyes. “Yeah.”
“I knew it,” she muttered more to herself. “Tell me about it. About her.”
He was skeptical. “You really want to know?”
She thought about it and shrugged. “Maybe not in graphic detail but I want to know how she stole your heart.”
Shock made him flinch. “Who said she stole my-”
“Katsuki, please, I know you. I’m one of the few people that does. Just tell me. What’s she like in private?”
He sighed, and silently vowed he’d never admit how happy he was to be able to tell someone about her. “Well, she’s stubborn. A spitfire, not unlike yourself, but you’re like a simmering blue fire. She’s almost out of control, in the best way. She surprises me a lot. Sometimes she’s sloppy and too sweet and then she’s ashamed of it but I like everything about-” He paused, realizing how much he was saying and sighed. “It doesn’t matter though.”
Kami had laid back down on her side to look at him and pulled her blanket up to her chin. “Why not?”
He sighed. “What do you mean why? It’s not like we can have a life together. Plus, we argued because of me. We haven’t talked in so long.”
“Do you miss her?” Kami spoke around a yawn.
Did he miss her? He knew he did. There was no denying it. But he wasn’t the person he used to be. Their time apart helped him put some things in perspective. He couldn’t always have his way. For some people, sacrifices were worth it. His feelings had taken a hit but did that mean the whole relationship had to be thrown away? That was if she missed him too. Did she miss him? She never reached out but that wasn’t her fault. She was way more in control of her feelings than he was. When had she taken up so much space in his mind, in his life? Was he…in love with her?
He flinched when he heard Kami snoring. He’d been in his head so long, she’d fallen asleep. He was grateful but embarrassed anyway. His cheeks burned. There was very little he was afraid of. Villains and monsters alike he could take on any time. Facing his feelings? He was fucked.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
He quietly closed the door behind him and he saw Deku waiting alone where he left him. When they looked at each other, Deku hopped up right away. Katsuki raised his hands. “Down boy, she’s asleep.”
Deku had the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry. I should probably be less obvious, huh?”
Katsuki shrugged. He was drained and distracted. Something about what Deku said sounded right. They scared off the reporters and paparazzi when Kami had first been admitted to the hospital but someone could be desperate enough to sell the gossip of their melodrama. “Right,” He nodded. But even knowing that, his mind was still elsewhere. “Is Ochaco still here?”
Deku shook his head. “She headed on home.” Katsuki nodded in response, deflating a bit. “But give her a call. You can probably go by.” Deku supplied. Katsuki finally focused in on his friend, perhaps his closest friend. His friend that he betrayed that still wanted to help him for some reason. It had always been like this for them. Katsuki aiming to bring Deku down but Deku always sticking by his side. Katsuki knew that Deku may never know what his friendship meant to him, to someone who always found it so hard to be understood and liked. Deku did it anyway. Stayed and stood by him anyway. Listened anyway. He was overwhelmed with the revelation yet again, because it wasn’t the first time he thought it and it probably wouldn’t be the last. He didn’t know if he’d ever be the friend he deserved but he’d want to try anyway. His feelings clogged his throat and as much as he wanted to express even a fraction of what he thought, he only touched Deku on the shoulder and said, “Thanks.”
Deku smiled at him anyway, no malice in sight, before he retreated into Kami’s hospital room.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Katsuki was very rarely unsure of himself. But as he sat outside of Deku and Ochaco’s home, he wrung the steering wheel trying to navigate the feeling of uncertainty. He did call and she did say he could come by and now he was stuck trying to swallow his pride around the lump in his throat that didn’t want to go away. He knew he’d have to apologize and he was never good at that. She was good at bringing his feelings to the surface, another thing he would have to deal with seeing her again. That was nerve wracking. He was so caught up, he jumped when his phone rang. It was her.
“Katsuki? Is everything okay?” He heard how concerned she was and it made his heart swell nearly painfully.
He swallowed before he spoke. “Yeah, yeah. Um, I’m outside.”
“Yeah, I see your car.” He knew she wasn’t teasing him or anything but he was infinitely more embarrassed to consider that she might’ve been watching him panic from her window. Jesus Christ.
“Right, right. I’m coming.” He hung up before she could answer and left his car before he lost his nerve.
She was already there waiting for him and he didn’t meet her eye as he side-stepped her into the cottage style home. He’d only been there a handful of times in the soft and welcoming space. It had Deku written all over it. He didn’t quite think of Ochaco being here. She was certainly soft in some ways but she had more rough edges than people knew. He fell onto one of their soft teal couches and felt it pull him down. He struggled against the too soft cushions to stay more upright.
Ochaco ignored his struggle as she stood near him. “Can I get you anything?”
“Water,” He demanded, although he knew he probably wouldn’t even drink it. He just wanted a moment to get his thoughts straight.
She came back rather quickly and handed him his glass while she sat with her own on the opposite end of the same couch. She took a gulp before she spoke. “I’m glad Kami is alright.” She sounded tense, like she didn’t know what else to say.
“I am too.” He said because he was in the same boat.
She sat her glass down on a coaster and started to wring her hands. “Deku told me how…how he’s in love with her.”
He nodded. “Interesting how that would happen from what we did,” he mumbled.
“Right.”
It was uncomfortably silent and he couldn’t deal with that.
His jaw tightened as he faced her. “Ochaco, I’m sorry” The words felt funny in his mouth but he pushed forward. “I’m not good at apologies but bear with me.” She stared, stunned and waiting. “I think I overreacted the last time I saw you. And I know it was because I was hurt. I didn’t know how to talk to you about it. I didn’t even think I cared about kids that much until you told me what you did. But it felt like you erased something huge. Like you got rid of the possibility of…” he paused, his mouth dry. He remembered his water, taking a hearty sip. He hoped his face would cool off as if that would ease his discomfort but the whole ordeal was pumping blood straight to his head. When her hand touched his, a light shiver traced down his spine. He looked at her and she looked back with encouragement and determination. He found whatever he needed there and took a breath before he spoke again. “I wanted you more than I thought,” he muttered.
She inhaled and held it. “Somewhere along the way, you got under my skin and I…didn’t want to believe it.”
She exhaled. “I feel the same way,” She said and began to ramble. “Katsuki, finding out I was pregnant was terrifying. Everything was so uncertain and I panicked. But I remember how sad I was. All I wanted to do was call you and be with you and have you tell me everything was going to be okay but I couldn’t do any of that. And I just acted because I needed to. And I don’t regret it because I don’t think it would have been right. I can still be sad about it. And I can still think about what it means. And I can still miss you all the time. And hope that you miss me and that you feel the same way I do and-”
“How do you feel about me?” His brows came together in uncertainty.
She only looked at him for a moment with her mouth agape as her face grew pink. “Um…I have feelings for you,” she nearly whispered.
He pulled his lips into his mouth as he nodded.
His response made her uncomfortable. She went on speaking. “I know you probably don’t feel the same but I-”
“Don’t.” He commanded, shutting his eyes.
“Don’t? Don’t what?”
“Don’t assume how I feel.” He opened his eyes and looked sharply at her.
“Oh. Then how do you feel?”
He sighed. “I like you,” he stated. “I like how ridiculous you are. You make me laugh and you excite me and I think about you and I miss you and, god dammit, you’re annoying.” He laughed. “But I want to wake up to you and know everything about you. I suck at this relationship shit clearly but I want to be worth it for you.”
Her hand was covering her mouth and her eyes looked glassy. “Are we gonna try and do this?” She mumbled.
He shrugged helplessly. “What else can we do? It’s not like we’re staying away from each other.”
“Do you really mean that?”
The worry in her voice almost made him answer sarcastically but the look on her face stopped him. She looked nervous and tense like she was waiting for something solid to finally rest her hopes on. He shifted towards her on the couch and reached out to wrap a hand around the back of her neck. His lips touched her as a promise. A sweet confirmation of his feelings. He pulled back briefly to rest his forehead against hers. “Yes, princess. I mean it.”
She leaned into him, her trembling lips pressing firmly against his. The hand on the back of her neck acted as an anchor, keeping her attached to him as he matched her hunger. He didn’t let go of her as he shifted her back against the arm of the couch. He maneuvered in between her legs, resting snuggly in one of his favorite places. He rutted up against her, causing a moan to escape her throat. He kissed her harder, reveling in every little response. The noises she made, the way her hips moved, her fingers sliding into his hair.
“Katsuki,” she muttered around his lips. He was pleased to hear his name again but he couldn’t be bothered to answer. Not now, not when he was back where he belonged. But she continued. “Katsuki, I’m hot, please take something off of me.” Now, that he could do. Without an auditory response, he lifted just enough for them to pull her [pants] off of her. With less friction, they both moaned as he slid against her again. She shuddered beneath him. Even as they grinded into each other, Katuski found himself content to only stay attached to her lips, their fingers in the other’s hair and ask for nothing more but Ochaco had other plans. “Katsuki,”she muttered again. “I missed you. I missed all of you. Please, please let me feel more of you.”
Finally he sighed as he leaned away from her. “Fuck, Doll, you make it hard to be good.” He chuckled.
“I could say the same to you.” He could see the lust darkening her eyes as she wiggled against him. He truly couldn’t resist when she did that. When she showed him she wanted it just as bad as he did, wanted him just as bad. In their everyday lives, she always acted so independent and she loved to prove how she didn’t need anyone. She wasn’t so prideful that she never asked for help but she liked to see how far she could get alone. When she knew she wanted him to do what only he could, he was the one swelling with pride. But he had to admit, even though he was so…swollen, a nagging fear made him stall and tease her.
He sat back on his knees. “You sure you don’t want me just for my body, Princess?” He framed it as a joke, delivered it like one. But somehow she saw through it and saw what he needed.
“Katsuki,” she ran a finger down his throat. “I want everything you want to give me. Your body, your time, your…,” she looked away, her already pink cheeks flushing even darker.
His eyebrow peaked and pulled back even farther. “My…?”
He could see her brace herself as she shifted her eyes back to his. “Your love.”
He moved automatically, pulling her up on her knees with him. He pulled her close to kiss but he didn’t just yet. “You want my love, princess?” His lips grazed hers as he spoke.
“Yes-” He cut her off with a hard kiss but she had more to say. “Yes, I fucking want your love.” It was like opening the floodgates for the both of them. Her words spilled over the desperate kisses he was giving her. “I want you to love me and I want to love you and I want forever-” she yelped when he lifted her swiftly and set her on the arm of the couch. He laughed as he pushed her thighs open.
“Forever? With me?” He laughed like it was ridiculous. “That’s a long fucking time, Princess. You really want to be annoyed that long?” He lowered himself onto his hands in front of her, pinching the damp material of her underwear.
She laughed with him. “Yes, and it’ll be okay because-” She gasped as his mouth connected greedily with her already wet slit.
He pulled away even though it killed him to do it. “Because…?” He ran a finger between her lips as he waited.
She giggled, her breath catching. “It’ll be okay because I know I’m gonna annoy you, too.” She moaned loud as he dove back into her with his tongue. It pleased him to no end to hear what she said and he would make sure to give her that same pleasure back. He was smiling against her as his tongue and fingers worked together to make her pant.
She gripped his hair hard. “Fuck, I’m already so close.”
Me, too, he thought. But he wasn’t going to come like she was. His heart was full. Terribly, uncomfortably full. He hated it but couldn’t deny it, couldn’t run from it anymore. Wouldn’t run from it. He wasn’t letting this go. He slid another finger in and plunged deeper as her words turned over in his mind again. I want you to love me and I want to love you and I want forever. Fuck.
Before he knew, she was tightening and shuddering and losing her voice. She curled forward and he lifted up to catch her and pull her down like a body slam onto the couch under him. “Need a minute?” He asked even though he didn’t want to give her one.
She shook her head slowly. “I’ll catch up.”
His veins were thrumming with the blood pumping towards his cock. She couldn’t be more perfect for him. He only shimmied his pants down far enough to release himself. This wasn’t going to take long at all and he didn’t even care. He was going to get to do this forever. He slid into her to the hilt with one thrust and his breath caught as he readjusted to her. He couldn’t move, could barely breathe, surrounded by her wet, tight, heat. Initially, she’d tensed when he entered her but once she was reacquainted with him, her body relaxed, her thighs falling open even farther to accommodate him. That was even worse.
“Ochaco, babydoll, I can’t give you my best right now.” He shook his head.
She grinned, reaching up to his face. “That’s okay, I know you’ll make it up to me later. Plus, I’m pretty sure you just sent me to nirvana with that orgasm just now.”
“Good, because I don’t know how many pumps you’re about to get out of me.”
“That’s okay, let go. Feel amazing for me, with me,” She looked incredibly sated and sleepy and he nodded as he finally, finally, moved his hips. He started groaning, his eyes shutting, as his pleasure went from 0 to 100 real quick. He was tingling in his toes and fingertips and siphoning air as he pumped faster. His release slammed into him like a linebacker and grunted forcefully, hips snapping a few more times before he stilled again. When he came back down, he peeked down at her.
She was grinning, looking like the picture of happiness. He smirked and kissed her forehead. “Are you okay?”
“Perfect.”
He realized something. “Shit, I came inside of you again.” He tensed.
“It’s okay. I’m on birth control this time.” She laughed. “But…even if I wasn’t…I think it would be okay anyway.”
He had no words to express what his heart did in response to that. “You don’t have to say that for my benefit.”
She tilted her head thoughtfully. “I’m not. I’m not ready to be a parent but I’m also not ready to let you go so…” she shrugged.
He kissed her then so she couldn’t see the wetness of his eyes. “Good, me neither.” He muttered into the crook of her neck. “And I’ll make sure I don’t have to.”
#bnha fanfiction#mha fanfic#mha bakugou#bakugou katsuki#katsukibakugou#katsuki x ochako#bnha katsuki#bakugo katsuki#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki x ochaco#ochaco#ochaco uraraka#bnha ochaco#mha ochaco#bakugo x uraraka#bnha uraraka
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