includes: EXTREMELY DARK CONTENT // 20+ // minors + under-20s DO NOT INTERACT please // NONCON // GRAPHIC CONTENT // PHYSICAL VIOLENCE // fem! sub! reader, bully!husband, degradation, humiliation, fear kink, mean!dom, extreme sadism, hints of masochism (on gojo’s part), more than hints of masochism (on reader’s part), edging, LOTS OF BLOOD, slaps to the face, punch to the face, aggressive and messy sex, name-calling, wrestling, delayed orgasm, semi brat taming, all this but he clearly thinks you’re pretty, oral (f! receiving), orgasm denial, slight breeding kink, body worship? and destruction, no aftercare
themes: Arranged Marriage AU | Consummation Night | Strangers to...Enemies and Lovers at the same time bye
prompt: This is for the Cummunity server's Tender Taboos Collab! And of course I picked taboo, described as: "anything and everything taboo. We want to give our creators a reason to get absolutely filthy, to write the dirtiest darkest fantasies they’ve ever had. Explore your own limits." I'm so happy to be a part of mel's amazing community. She is a star and the absolute kindest. thank you for this collab and for letting me join!
summary: You barely know him, your husband, a stranger. The marriage arranged to serve a purpose. You know it and he knows it. But what you don't know, is tonight...he's in the mood to fight.
wc: 3.1k | reblogs appreciated! apparently spam likes get us shadow-banned rip
m. list | haikyuu bad boyfriends m. list
You were married in a haste, Gojo not even getting a moment alone with you after the ceremony. You’d been in the city for almost two weeks now, no contact, no idea of when you’d see him. All you had of him was the key to his apartment where you now lived, where you were now headed, grocery bags slung on your arms.
You unlock the door and shuffle in, taking your shoes off and setting bags down.
“There she is.”
You jump, heart pinching. With a snap of your head, you see him leaning against the kitchen counter. Lips part, sucking in air, but you’re silent, unable to find the words.
“Gojo,” you finally say, voice faint. Everything about you in a state of disbelief and awe. The rest of your belongings slip off your shoulders.
His smile grows as you approach, seeing how you’re drawn to him even when thrown off guard. He stops what he’s doing — wrapping his knuckles in tape — and he reaches a hand out to you, encouraging you to come closer. “You’re my wife,” he smiles. “Call me Satoru.”
“Sa—,” he silences you with a kiss to your knuckles, taking your short breath with him. “...Toru.”
He pulls you to stand in front of him before he leans off the counter. He presses forward, stepping into your personal space. This is the first time you’re getting a good look at him. You barely know the man, other than his height alone is enough to intimidate you, let alone his reputation. You have no idea what to expect, specifically as a wife. A blindfold of your own.
He pins you to the kitchen island behind you, your heart pounding. Bringing his head down, Satoru wraps his arms around you, pulling you into the greatest embrace. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, pressing your torso into his, lifting you up to your toes. Hesitantly, you put your hands on his shoulder blades. He’s so…warm. And strong. His kindness surprises you, introducing you to a sense of security.
He lets you go, and although you can’t see his eyes, his gaze and the silence make your cheeks heat. “How was your mission?”
He only smiles, bringing his head down again. He leans forward to kiss you but in a knee-jerk reaction, you turn away. You look up at him wide-eyed, feeling like you should apologize. You can’t help it, he’s still as good as a stranger.
“I should get the groceries—” you say instead, brushing his arm aside to stop his caging you. He grabs your wrist but lets you slip out of his hand anyway. As you put the groceries away, you feel his eyes searing into you, hot like lasers. You swallow, thinking of how to deescalate a situation that seems…off.
“Did you eat? Do you want dinner?”
You look over your shoulder when he doesn’t answer. He’s back to wrapping his hand up like a boxer. He cuts the last piece of tape with his teeth, securing it. He punches his fist into his palm. Then he looks up at you.
The corner of his mouth curls.
Satoru gets his hands under your thighs and lifts you up, sitting you on the kitchen island. You lean back—
“Are you scared?” he grins.
“No,” you chuckle, your breath hitching when he spreads your legs open and gets his hips between them.
“Oh yeah?” He puts his hand on your chest, indicating he’s well aware of your heart rate.
You open your mouth to speak, but he interjects.
“It’ll turn me on if you are.”
You close your mouth, not knowing what to say to that. He taps the back of his fingers against your right cheek before he draws down your jaw. He curls his hand into a fist, connecting his wrapped knuckles against your left cheek with a click of his tongue. A playful mock-punch that makes your ears light up.
Satoru presses his cheekbone against yours, bringing his lips to your ear as he snuggles into you.
“Do you like it rough?”
“...No.”
“Damn, that’s too bad.” Gojo leans back so he can look at your face. A brow perks. “But you’ll be a good wife and take it, won’t you?”
You turn away, your cheeks on fire at this point as his words leave a bad taste in your mouth. He tilts his head, trying to catch your lips again and again. You lean back, pushing against his shoulder.
“Satoru—”
“Oh don’t be shy now, you’re making me blush too.”
He yanks your ear, shutting you up. Capitalizing on your shock, Gojo tugs at your hair on your other side as well.
“Stop!” you whine.
He leans his chin into your chest, resting his forearms against the countertop as he looks up at you. He pokes you at your side, making you flinch and cuddle up into his other arm. Gojo’s teeth graze your ear as he pulls your hips to the edge of the island, making you freeze. You feel his bulge between your legs. “You’re for me to toss you around, are you not? With the way your family offered you up like a whore. Please protect our people. Take her as a gift.”
His teeth tug at your earlobe, his open mouth trailing hot breath down your jaw as you swallow the urge to cry. That’s not how your father put it. You knew it. You thought with Gojo accepting, he was understanding of the situation. He bites, forcing a sound out of you that gets him stiff in his pants. He sucks on the side of your chin, wanting to hurt you, wanting to mark you forever. You purse your lips into your teeth, moaning uncomfortably.
You shove against his shoulders, hitting him hard so you can hop off the countertop. Gojo laughs, twisting your arm behind your back before he gets you into the living room. You put up a fight, which is exactly what he’s been looking for. He wants to fight.
He tackles you into the couch and you both wrestle. For him it’s play, Gojo just so giddy while you’re frustrated beyond belief, afraid that this is the man you’ve married.
“Take your top off,” he mumbles between breaths.
“No—what’s wrong with you?”
“Oh hooo,” he chuckles. “So not only is she pretty, she’s also a brat.” Gojo feels you up, his big hands running from your stomach to the tops of your breasts. He keeps his head buried in your chest. “I have a thing for brats.”
He squeezes your breasts, making your back arch. Your thigh hooks at his hip.
"Let me show you what happens to brats who don't follow my fucking rules."
Before you can even take a breath, Gojo folds you over the back of the couch, pinning his arm across your lower back before he smacks your ass. You whimper, unable to do much with your hips locked. He hits you again and again before he’s sunken his teeth, biting into your cheek. Your voice trembles, hot tears pinching the back of your eyes. You feel your husband’s hands moving again. One squeezes your hip, the other gets between your legs. His long fingers rub you over your jeans, your muscles clenching, pulsing at his touch. He gets behind you, spreading your legs open.
Gojo’s hands glide up your ass and into your shirt, exposing your back as he takes it off. His rough palms make you hot all over, your shirt off slipping off under his demand.
“A white bra,” he smiles, noting the contrast it has against your skin. “Wow, you really are bride material.”
He takes his shirt off, wanting to feel your skin against his. He reaches for your front, undoing the zipper of your jeans. You grab his wrist but he’s in your pants in a second. You gasp, feeling him over your panties. His touch is seemingly simple, rubbing you up and down, but it’s electric, making you squirm into his pelvis.
“Satoru, please—”
“You want more?”
“Stop!”
He slips his hands into your panties, too strong for your clawing. You throw your head back, body tense as he explores you in unfamiliar ways. You whimper, lungs fighting. Your palm is over him, your fingers moving with his. It’s almost like you’re…doing it with him. The feeling of his long fingers, skilled and strategic…
You can’t stop gasping, lungs shaking as you writhe under his warm chest. You feel your body’s response to his actions stirring in your gut. You push your head back into his shoulder, veins in your neck straining beyond belief when he—
Stops.
Gojo pulls his hand out, leaving you with nothing. You’re still tingling, everything static and sirened, muscles humming. You pant, body slumping over the couch.
"What's wrong? I thought you brats like being teased."
He pulls you in by your waist and falls back into the couch, manhandling you again. You try to wrestle out of his grip until you roll him off, sending you both falling to the rug. With your body on top of him, Gojo groans, wincing as his back arches. Your arms are weak, shaking, your mind half-fogged, but you use the opportunity to escape while he laughs.
You crawl over him but Gojo slaps his palm onto your thigh, yanking you back into place. He wraps his arms around you, pushing forward to successfully pin you onto your back. You grit your teeth, stifled cries in your mouth as he pulls your jeans off. Still, he won’t stop with the rough-housing. You push against him as he hovers over you, trying to roll onto your side. You’ve had it, so much so, when he tries to restrain your wrists, you slap Gojo across the face.
It surprises you both, but what’s worse is as your arm swings back, Gojo pinning your back to the ground, your elbow connects, knocking into his nose.
Your pupils are blown out, body shaking.
“I’m—I’m sorry.”
His nose gushes. Dark crimson leaking from his nostrils to his mouth, dripping onto your bare body.
Gojo takes his blindfold off, eyes lighting up at the sight of you. His stark eyes and the perverted lust they’re glazed in distract you before you realize you’re drenched in his blood, your sadistic husband dripping all over you. His blood is hot, thick, and dark, your voice shrill as your stomach caves into your spine. You can’t even speak, words only strained, terrified sputters.
Gojo loses his mind looking at you perched up on your elbows beneath him. Your skin, so untainted, so pure, so smooth, now smothered in his deep red, along with your bra and panties that’ll never look the same again. A consummation night of his dreams.
You start to scoot back, thinking he’s done for the night, but no. He kisses you on your belly, his hand trailing up to smear the blood up your chest. He bites into the dip of your waist — hard. You scream, eyes watering instantly, knowing he’s drawn blood. His teeth leave indentations you’ll have forever while he climbs up your figure. He plants bruises where he decides to suck your skin through his teeth.
Your thighs squeeze together as you grab his forearm, feeling his bloody hand grip the side of your neck. As Gojo’s tongue glides up the other column of your throat, your walls flutter desperately in response. He sits up, cupping your cheek. You look up at him, and he notices a shift you’re probably unaware of yourself — doe-eyed and obedient with silence. He holds the side of your head firm, not wanting to snap your pretty neck. He uses his other hand to slap you light, using only a tap of his fingers. It’s almost…comforting. But he’s only preparing you for what’s coming.
You start to struggle, pulling your knees up, but Gojo straddles you at your hips. He smacks you a little harder, making your lower back tingle. He goes even harder, a good smack and your pussy clenches. Your hands squeeze against his hips, desperate for friction, desperate for something to ground you.
He leans in, spitting on your face before he slaps you again. You flinch before he shoves his fingers in your mouth, the dried taste of iron hitting your tongue before he spits on your teeth.
You moan, eyes teary and mind woozy, reality slipping the more your husband shows you his true form. Gojo starts to slide down your body, getting off your legs so he can take off your panties. Your fists clench, unable to hold onto anything as the sting on your cheek mixes with the arousal deep below. You wipe the spit off your eye, rubbing it down your cheek, feeling the blood. You don’t know if you actually try to wipe it off or rub it in, but the way your body sings in anticipation as he pulls your panties off your hips makes nothing else matter.
“Why so quiet now, hm?” he teases, tossing your panties aside. You’re throbbing when he spreads your thighs, opening you up to him. The air is so cool against how fevered he’s got you. You suck air through your teeth as he brings his head between your legs. The closer he gets, the harder it is to breathe.
“Bet I can make you scream.”
“Gojo,” you beg.
His fingers spread you open before his tongue makes an appearance. You twitch and the huff of his chuckle electrifies every square inch. He drags the tip of his tongue along your inner lips like he’s tracing them, teasing you more and more instead of just going in. In. You want his tongue inside you. You want to roll your hips into his face—
Gojo laps his tongue up before he dips it into you. Your back arches, hands reaching out for nothing. Your moans are so sweet, so shy, as his tongue swirls around. His palms grip the tops of your thighs, holding you in place as you squirm against him. He flicks his tongue up, ringing you like a bell, bringing your clit to life before it screams. He wraps his mouth around it, sucking hard.
You moan loudly, twisting uncontrollably, your body practically contorting under his command. You reach for him, your fingers getting entangled in his hair. You tug on his roots with urgency. Your whole body is on fire, dancing closer to the edge. You yank fistfuls of his hair, your toes trailing up his back as you pull him into you. He sucks, licks, flicks, and swirls, digging his nails into your thighs. When he thrusts his tongue inside you he grunts, rippling vibrations that make you choke on the air around you.
Your eyelids are squeezed shut, forehead strained, teeth grinding. A carnal groan surfaces from deep in your throat—
But again, Gojo stops.
You whine loudly, tears at your corners. You barely register his laughs, his kisses and bites at your thighs. Your sweaty palms release him, hands jumping to cover your face as you attempt to roll to your side.
“Fuck,” you whisper under your breath, wanting to cry. You feel an authoritative hand grip your hip, forcing you onto your back once more. You’re limp. Adrenaline rush after adrenaline rush. And you’ve forgotten how to breathe.
You dare to look down at him.
Gojo cracks a smile, spreading your knees apart once more. “Looks like you’re mine now, my dear wife.”
Still, even with limp strength, you try to lock your legs, scooting away from him. Why should he get what he wants? He laughs.
“It’s like you want me to beg. Is that something you’d enjoy?” He brings his head down, fighting against you as he pries your legs open. He kisses your knee. “Me begging?”
“Please baby,” Gojo continues. He brings his mouth up your blood-red stomach, sprinkling more kisses. “Let me sink my dick in my pretty slut’s pretty pussy.”
Gojo bites into the fat of your skin, using the opportunity where your knees jerk to spread you open and get his hips inside you. He sinks his cock deep in your soft, warm walls, groaning at the savored sensation while you moan. He holds your hips up, rolling into you like you’re just an object. He doesn’t wait for you to get used to his length, hitting spots so deep, winding up the pleasure he’d built so thick only to halt again and again.
You spasm, digging your nails into the rug. Your eyes are screwed shut, but when you hear him cackle, you dare another look. He looks insane, bloodied face, wide eyes, maniacal smile as he slaps your hips onto his pelvis.
“You should s—see yourself,” he grunts, voice straining, eyes sparkling. “Fucking pretty whore.”
The way he says it, it’s as if you’re meant to take it as the biggest compliment. Gojo lets go of your hips, instead falling forward. He presses his hand beside your head, hovering on top of you as his hips continue to circle into you. He taps your cheek with his fingers again before he slaps you, hard. Your head buckles to the opposite direction, mind spinning before you loll back. This time, he pulls his elbow back, and suddenly you realize why he’d wrapped his knuckles. He punches you in the face, making everything stop.
Your ears ring, everything blurring. You don’t even feel the sting. No. What’s more apparent is the way your walls get a heartbeat of their own, convulsing around his dick.
His fist comes with a kiss before Gojo ducks his head into the gap between your neck and shoulder. He bucks his hips out and thrusts, his groans now turning into moans as the both of you get close.
His hands scoop under your triceps, guiding your arms over the back of his neck.
“Hold on to me, doll.”
You cling to him as he rolls his hips, mouth open, eyelids fluttering, the tears at your corners now leaking down your temples as the sting settles. Your back arches, toes pressing against the floor in a desperate attempt to — you don’t even know. All you know is, your body starts shaking. Face hot, every hair on you electric. Shivers, convulsing. You gasp, needing to hold onto him.
You dig your nails into his back, hoping he’ll bleed. It makes him hit his own peak and tense along with you. He squeezes every muscle in his body, his whole body vibrating as he groans, spraying spurts that paint your walls.
“Fuuuck—”
a/n: fun fact, this is my first JJK fic! *internal screaming and pacing ensues* let me know if i did it justice~
read more of my works here! more gojo content coming next week ❤️🔥
tagging the lovelies @hanayanetwork 🌸 @anime-central @planetonet 🪐 @shibuyawardnetwork
⇢ tags: angels and demons, vaginal sex, oral sex (m receiving), quoting scripture
⇢ notes: written for the tender taboos collab - find other wonderful works from that collab HERE!
⇢ summary:
As a demon, you've been tasked for centuries to square off with angels over the souls of mortal men. Some battles you've won, some battles you've lost, but you've never done this. Never had one beneath you, writhing and moaning. Begging you, breathless, to stain his annointed wings with the filth of your sin.
“You’re a witch.”
You chuckle. Dark and in your chest, tasting your lips again like a reflex when you feel his feverish eyes drop down to your mouth.
“Worse,” you murmur, grinning. Leaning in to trace your nose against the lines of his throat, before you open your jaw and clamp viciously down.
You’re not supposed to be here. Not supposed to be doing this.
If your superiors knew - if they had any idea at all - you’d be expelled from the legions of hell in a heartbeat.
But, well. You’re a demon. Not like they can expect you to always follow the rules.
It’s late on a Friday night and you’re in the crappy apartment they have you holed up in. A run down studio at the edge of a small town with hot water that only works half the time - the best hell is willing to put you up in while you duke it out for the soul of a mortal, apparently.
Your assignment has been a long and miserable one, the mortal in your sights refusing to give an inch to either side warring for his eternal soul, and the only positive of the whole thing from the whole tortured ordeal, you think, is the creature currently sprawled out beneath you.
“Ease your mind,” you say. A soft purr pressed against the tender space beneath an ear, and your words only serve to make the body beneath you tense further.
Your mouth lifts at the corners, unable to help yourself or the slow spreading satisfaction that’s prickling across the surface of your skin. Your lips ghost across a thundering pulse when you speak again, a soft rasp of a breath echoing in your ear.
“You came willingly,” you say. A tender smear of lips, a touch of your teeth. A jolt in the body beneath you, then a shiver. “You wanted this, or you would not be here.”
A soft sound warbles from the being below you, something dangerously close to a moan, and it makes your blood go thick and heavy.
He’s sitting on the couch you’ve been calling a bed for the better part of a year, his shoulders pressed tight against the back of it. Legs spread beneath the weight of you in his lap, his head wrenched back and tilted away from the press of your mouth against his throat.
He’s shaking like a leaf. Full-bodied, his breath puffing from between bitten lips on stuttered gasps.
In the low ambient light from the bar across the street, worn neon and fading, the perfect ring of his halo glows like a beacon.
You allow yourself to draw from him, your palms coming up to rest against the planes of his chest to feel the hammer of his heart beneath them. Giving yourself a moment to breathe, a moment to bolster your restraint, because you know as well as he that he is beneath you only because he chooses to be.
One wrong move, one push a touch too far, and you know you’ll find yourself plastered on the far wall of your apartment, your skin burning from the righteousness of his anger and the power of the host of the heavens that thrums beneath his skin.
He.
He’s no he, really, but he’s been given a male form, just as you’ve been given one female. You’ve faced off with countless angels in the eons of your immortal life and never had a taste for any of them. But this one…
Spread out beneath you, he is every sin you’ve ever committed. Staring you back in the face with eyes so green they near black in the low light, a sliver of fear and something else seated deeply in them as he stares up at you and his body trembles. Handsome and wholesome and pure, in a way that makes your teeth ache to sink into flesh.
His halo buzzes lightly in the silence as it stretches between you. A soft, vibrating tremor that has you aching to reach up and touch it.
Does it feel?
Does it glow so bright because of his fear?
Would it burn your cursed flesh if you gripped it tight?
You feel nearly drugged as you allow your fingers to drift up to the stretched collar of his shirt. Slipping beneath to slide over feverish skin, pressing to test the thick cord of muscle beneath. Your mind is turning slowly, wonderfully, like heated honey, as you let the warring impulses within you tangle and burn. Gripping at your lungs and making desire haze at the edges of your senses.
Your hand comes to cup gently beneath his jaw, strong and filling your hand, and you coo to him softly when it makes his tongue come out to nervously wet his lower lip.
“Izuku.” You breathe through the thrill of it on your lips. The mark of an angel, anointed by the heavens themselves. Dripping from your tongue, tasting of flesh and bone and sin.
You feel his hands tighten where they’re resting on the couch on either side of your thighs.
“Do not speak my name,” he says. With some effort, it seems, a tremble softening the impact.
“Mmm,” you reply. Letting your weight rest more fully against him. Settling deeper into his lap and feeling your entire body purr at the feel of him below you. Solid and strong and righteous, to the core. “Why tell me your name if you did not wish for me to speak it?”
And he did give you his name. Offered it to you freely during your very first confrontation with him over the mortal. A first, for you, of all the angels you’ve faced, and surely at least partial cause for his utter hold on you. For the hooks, however heavenly, he’s managed to sink into you, to have you wanting him like this.
Your thumb drifts over his cheek, smoothing over freckles there like you could smear them like specs of paint. Or drops blood.
The purpose of your mission is as clear to you now as the day you first set foot in this backwater town. You can’t forget it, the iron-clad and inescapable order to harvest the soul of another mortal no matter the cost, for the order is tattooed into your tongue with fiery blade and blood ink.
You taste it, metallic and sharp, whenever you begin to wander from your purpose. A warning, when needed, to turn back, towards the flickering flames of your buried homeland.
Now, your mouth is dripping with copper. A reminder of how far you’ve strayed. Of the stakes of this betrayal, on both your parts, as you circle each other, drawn inexorably towards each other like the moon pulling the tides.
But, you’re a demon. Your throat usually tastes of brimstone and ash, so the heated coat of blood taste on your tongue does nothing to quell the desire beginning to curl like poison in your belly. The temptation that’s beginning to brew in you like a storm.
If anything, it spurs you on. Has your heart beating hard in the shell of your mortal form, has your hips aching to press down against his.
He draws in another shuddering breath when the pad of your thumb finds his mouth. Presses his lower lip against his teeth, knicks lightly at the plump flesh there with the sharp end of your nail until a drop of blood wells up to the surface.
You draw your hand back to your mouth and taste that smear of red. The light of his heavenly blood sizzling as it touches your tongue, dragging goosebumps down both of your arms as you let your eyes flutter closed at the feeling.
You moan quietly, body rippling with heat, and hear an answering sound from him. Barely audible but uttered just the same, falling from his lips like a sacrament. A whispered prayer, though you know not for salvation or damnation.
“We…cannot do this,” he says. Sounding pained, his chest rising and falling beneath your palms. As winded as he’s ever been when he’s battled you with all his heavenly might, and the realization makes your head swim. “We…must not.”
You hum again, your head tilting a touch as you look down at him beneath you. At the flush traveling down his throat and disappearing beneath his shirt, at the desperate edge you see in his eyes as he regards you. Looking up at you like a cornered animal whose teeth are claws are drawing for a fight.
He feels it, too. The precipice the two of you are dangling upon.
“Cannot and must not differ greatly,” you murmur. Letting the edge of your nail drag down his front, slicing open the shirt covering his chest with the barest bit of pressure. “Which is it you mean, Izuku?”
You take in the sight of him greedily, tongue touching your lower lip as his shirt flutters open and down from where you cut it down the center. Exposing the bunch of hard muscle beneath skin as he trembles beneath you, the flush from his cheeks dappling down over his chest.
You set your nails at the center of his chest, beneath the hollow of his throat, and drag them lightly down. The sharp edges of your nails scraping over the heated skin there, just a touch of pressure to leave light red trails in their wake as you draw your hand down the front of him. Watching, mesmerized, as the muscles in his abdomen leap beneath your touch and his entire body squirms.
“You’ve never been touched like this,” you say. More breathless than you care to admit and not a question at all. A confirmation of what you’re seeing with your own eyes, his body responding to your touch like a live wire.
He shakes his chin on a tight sound when your thumb presses over the puffed pad of his nipple.
You pinch, and his back arches gently against you on a groan.
“No,” he breathes. Conflict lighting the darks of his eyes like fire itself. Warring within himself just as you are, though you cannot think to properly compare the two.
You were created to sin, after all.
He was created to resist. To endure, in the face of all temptation.
And yet, he is hard beneath the weight of you. Aroused and flushed with desire. With want, even as the current of it through his body likely scorches him like an open flame.
You ache between your legs. A pulse beating there in time with your heart, empty and needing, and you let your eyes flutter closed as you give into that ache and slot yourself down against him.
You lurch, the both of you, at the feeling of his clothed cock pressing against your center. Groaning in unison, breathless, as frisson travels over the shape of your bodies together like an electrical current.
You chase the feeling of it, hungry and wanting, rolling your hips against his and shivering at the hard ridge of him. The promise of what he would feel like inside of you. Of what he will feel like, when you take him inside.
It’s only when your eyes open once more than you realize his hands have come up to grip at your hips. Abandoning where they’d been fisted beside your knees and squeezing around you hard. Tight, tight enough to bruise. Tight enough to hurt you, if you were mortal.
You’re anything but, though, and the reminder of the power he carries has you moving against him once more. Grinding down against his cock as your lips fall open on a pleasured sound, feeling the satisfying, answering pulse of his hands around your waist.
Your tail, thin and dark and pointed at the tip, begins to thrash in the air behind you. Not bothering to conceal the truest parts of your nature in this moment, knowing that doing so would bring him no more comfort. The flame of your demon core, the closest thing you have to a soul, is roaring, now.
“You desire me, Izuku,” you breathe. Nudging against him again, barely able to keep your eyes from fluttering closed at the pressure against your aching sex. “You desire this.”
A sound rises but sticks in his throat. A denial, surely, but one unable to surface as his fingertips press bruises into the tender skip over your hips.
There’s a clarity coming over his expression as he grips you tight. As a realization of where this moment has taken him, taken the both of you, seems to wash over him.
He’s trembling beneath you still, but no longer with fear.
His halo burns over top his head. Sizzling, nearly hissing in the open air, as he grips you hard enough to make your bones ache.
It makes you want to purr.
His voice wobbles between hard-edged and breathless when he speaks next. Torn, just as he surely is, as the two of you dance along the edge of something that will destroy you both.
“You’re a witch.”
You chuckle. Dark and in your chest, tasting your lips again like a reflex when you feel his feverish eyes drop down to your mouth.
“Worse,” you murmur, grinning. Leaning in to trace your nose against the lines of his throat, before you open your jaw and clamp viciously down.
He nearly comes off the couch. His body jerking against yours like you’d sent static through his veins, his voice breaking on a harsh groan as he yanks you down against his lap on instinct.
You shudder when you feel that the place where you’re pressed to him has grown wet. Slick and heated as your bodies move against each other with mirrored pleasure, and you know not whether the mess is from you or him as you rock against each other.
He’s panting when you draw back again, overwhelmed, his teeth bared at you as his blood sizzles on your tongue from where your teeth had broken the skin of his throat.
You resist the urge to lean forward and lick along the sharp edges of his canines. Barely. Choosing instead to turn your cheek against his and taste at the shell of his ear. Shivering when you feel him tense sharply beneath you, breathing in the crackling ozone that hangs around him like a shroud. From his halo, you think, as you nip softly at his earlobe and hear his breath catch lowly in his throat.
“You resist what you so clearly desire,” you observe, a soft murmur against his temple. Rolling your hips down once more, feeling your physical form warming to him on instinct more than conscious thought. “For yourself, I wonder, or for your god?”
A sound tears from him that comes close to a hiss. Sudden, and you feel him go rigid beneath you in what you think might be…anger. A first, from him. At the insolence of you speaking so freely of his higher power, most likely.
His hands vise tighter around your waist and your bones ache.
It pushes some breath from your lungs, makes your head swim a touch, and the rush makes your blood feel syrupy and hot beneath your skin.
“You know nothing of God,” he says. The words pressed through gritted teeth, and then you feel the touch of his nose as he turns his face towards yours.
His teeth close around your cheek in a hard, sudden nip, a stinging rebuke, and it startles a moan from you, followed by a breathless, delirious chuckle that’s pleasure dark as your hand winds around the back of his head to thread through the forest-colored curls at the nape. You grip the hair there, to ground yourself mostly, as you feel the push and pull of your desire begin to muddle up the clarity of your senses.
It’s not easy to kill a demon, but it’s likely easiest like this. With you grinding lazily against his lap and swimming in the honeyed pull of your arousal. Thinking not of the blazing blade of light he could thrust through your chest in a heartbeat but instead of what he’ll feel like moving inside of you. Filling you bruising and tight with his cock and making you whole and then bringing you apart.
The thought should sober you. Should knock some sense back into you, but it simply makes you want this more. Sinks you deeper into this mutual destruction that neither of you seem to be free to escape nor able to chase further. Stuck in this gripping embrace and battling with each other and within, caught in the riptide of the magnitude of the moment.
Your sex aches again between your legs, like a bruise, like something needing tending, and it has you shifting your weight back a touch. Drawing yourself back from where you’d been nipping at his ear and then shuddering at the expression you see on his face.
His mouth is dropped open. His breath coming in soft pants, his cheeks flushed beneath the spread of his freckles. There is something in his eyes not that wasn’t there before. A deep heat pooling, smoldering there that you feel in the marrow of your bones. His anger seems to have dissipated as quickly as it had flared and been replaced with something darker and more wanting.
Your exhale is stuttered as it passes your lips and hot enough to steam in the air. You watch his eyes track it and then lift to just above your eyes. Lingering on where your horns are dark and deeply rooted in your skull. A reminder to him of the sacrilege of touching you. Of what you are, and how you will ruin him.
“I know something of your god,” you breathe, as you drag your nails down his bare chest once more. Watching the nipple on his right pectoral tighten and pebble when you trace around it. “I know that your god forbids this.”
Your fingertips scratch over the trail of hair that leads into the waist of his pants. The muscles there flinch beneath your touch and when you lift yourself up off his lap, his hands around you loosen. Letting you slip backwards and down, until you’re kneeling between his spread legs and staring up the taut, trembling line of his body.
Your voice sounds sinful even to your own ears when you speak again. A silky rasp that slips between your lips and hangs in the air between you.
“And not just with demons.”
His eyes are darker than pitch as he looks down at you, as he feels your palms resting flat against his pelvis, thumbs drifting over the material of his pants on either side of where his hard cock is trapped.
He swallows, his throat bobbing, when your fingers trace lightly around the ridge of it.
You know then, as well as you’ve known anything, that you have him.
The knowledge soothes you, as you stroke the outline of his cock with your fingertips. The desperate pull of your need simmering to something less blinding, less urgent, and your mouth waters as you let your fingertips slip beneath his waistband.
When you pull down, he lets you. Simply lets out a shaking breath as he lifts his hips and lets you pull his pants down hips hips and off his legs. Leaving them in a pile on the floor as your eyes return, are pulled back, to his cock.
The sight has your center clenching so hard it makes your eyes flutter closed for a moment. Your palms gripping down on his bare thighs as you breathe through the rush of heat that singes at your nerves and makes you feel aching and raw.
His cock is thick and curved up against his body. Flushed dark with blood and arousal, drooling a puddle of prespend into the divot of his hip. Nestled in a patch of dark, coarse hair.
It’s everything your human form could want. Everything you’d dared to let yourself imagine during lonely nights of the past year.
“What says your god?” you ask, letting the tips of your nails prick into the skin of his thighs. Watching his cock twitch when the first drop of blood drips down to the couch. “Of this?”
He exhales. Shaky, the muscles in his abdomen clenching, as his cock twitches again.
You wonder if he’s close to release, from just this. The thought makes your head swim hazy with heat that you have to breathe deliberately through.
His hands have gathered into fists where they rest on the couch. He’s breathing as if he’s run a great distance, his chest flushed red and rising and falling in time with the thunder of his heart. He stares at you for a long moment, looking a little dazed, until you press the tips of your nails into the little wounds you’d just opened in his skin.
His eyelashes flutter. He wets his lips, and his voice drags across your skin like gravel when he speaks.
“Flee f-fornication,” he recites, his voice a distant rasp. His eye drawn helplessly to the sight of your hand sliding up his thigh to where you begin to trace gentle patterns into the heated skin of his hip. “Every sin that a man doeth is without the body…but he that committeth fornication sinneth against his own body.”
You grin. Dragging your lower lip between your teeth as you lift up onto your knees and let your elbows rest on his thighs. Watching as he draws in a deep, anticipating breath and his whole body goes still as he holds it tight.
“If your god forbids pleasures of the flesh - “ you ask, “ - why give you this?”
You slide your hand up until your palm covers his cock and his eyes nearly roll back into his skull.
He groans, open and low. Loud, in the quiet of the room. His brows pinching on his face as your fingers curl loosely around the girth of it and feel its weight. You give it one gentle pump in your hand, the skin sliding silkily against your palm, and his eyes flutter closed again.
His hips lift suddenly when you smear your thumb over the head, jostling your hold on him, but you hold him tight. Forcing him back down as he lets out a broken sound and sags back against the couch.
You swallow heavily, your mouth coated with saliva and the taste of blood from the seal on your tongue, and lean in. Keeping your eyes on his as your thumb brushes across the head of his cock and he whines softly in his throat.
“If your god commands you to flee from fornication - ” you murmur. Closing your eyes as you let your lips press softly against the silken, heated skin of his cock in your hand. A thrill coursing through you when it makes him lift his hips again. “ - why make it feel so good?”
The press of your tongue against the underside of the head has him crying out. His head jolting back like you’d struck him, his body locking rigid as you keep him pinned to the couch with your weight.
His voice is wet and ragged when he begins to murmur, staring up at the ceiling as his mouth moves on words you don’t understand, some heavenly language you do not speak, before his gaze drops back down to yours where you’re kneeling between his thighs. The words tingle when they hang in the air and brush over your skin - some divinity in them prickling when they touch against your cursed flesh.
He looks at you as if waiting for some response, like he’s drifting and the only thing keeping him tethered is your hand around his cock, and it makes the corner of your mouth twitch.
“Speak in the common tongue if you seek an answer,” you say, your tongue touching at the points of your teeth when his brow dips for a moment. Like he hadn’t realized he’d spoken in anything but.
He swallows. His throat bobbing as he wets his mouth and watches your hand massage his cock with gentle, pulling pulses. Drawing his hips to twitch softly in helpless response with every squeeze.
“Why,” he asks. His eyes lifting to yours, his brow creasing between them. The turmoil within him right up beneath the surface now, stewing beneath his skin. “Why are you - doing this?”
Your head tilts as you regard him. Your curiosity awoken for a moment as you soothe his cock with the barest of touches. “Why do you think, Izuku?”
He shivers at the sound of his name, his chest continuing to rise and fall with deep breaths. His mouth opens and closes once, his voice rising in his throat, then getting tangled when you give his cock a firm little squeeze.
His hips are nudging against your hand by the time he finds his words. Soft little twitches as his body begins to give into chasing the feeling that it wants. That it needs.
“A…c-conquest,” he says. Brow twisted now, his expression conflicted as his voice comes out a little weak. A little wobbly. “You seek to…to destroy me.”
That wounds you a bit, you’re surprised to find. Leaning back a bit as your face crinkles to match his, and before you can think better of it, you find yourself shaking your head.
“No, Izuku,” you say, something close to disappointment coloring your voice. “That is not what I seek.”
The seal on your tongue scalds, burns bitterly, and you realize dimly that you should not turn down this path. You realize you should grin sharply at him and tell him yes, yes of course, you’ve put yourself on your knees before him with the aim to ruin him. That the only force driving you is the eternal and perpetual chess match between heaven and hell, with you seeking out one darkly satisfying win.
But you realize, as a fat bead of prespend spills over your knuckles, that you cannot do so. Will not.
“What do you know of temptation?”
The question catches him off guard. His brows lift, then drop again. Confusion there in his face, his eyes searching yours as if looking for a trick. Which, you figure, is fair, considering.
It takes him a moment to answer.
“Every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed,” he says. Reciting again, words that flow easily from his memory, though he says them with some trepidation. Still eyeing you with doubt. “Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin - and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death.”
You bob your head a bit from side to side. “That is what your god says,” you concede. Your eyes narrow on his. Trying to see him. “What do you say? Do you experience it?”
His cock twitches in your hand and he lets out a shaky breath. Chewing on his lower lip for a moment before he croaks out a quiet, “Yes.”
You hum softly, nodding to him. A strange urge to soothe him warming inside of you that you don’t entirely understand but are too entranced to resist as you should.
“As do I,” you say. Voice coming a little soft as you work his cock in a solid pump of your hand that has him shuddering on a quiet sound. “I am tempted by everything around me, Izuku. It’s in my nature.”
His cock is so thick in your hand. So hot, the skin silken as you work your fist up and down. Revealing the glistening head, flushed dark and shining with prespend, and you feel your sex ache again when you allow yourself to grip it a little tight and it makes it twitch in response.
“I’ve lived many centuries,” you tell him. Weighing the admission there just behind your lips before daring to set it free. The seal on your tongue burns. “But I’ve rarely been tempted by something as terribly as you.”
It’s a truth, a rare one from you, and he seems to sense it. His eyes widening as he shakes his head lightly. Almost absently, like his mind is traveling too quickly for his mouth to keep up.
“I don’t…” he says. You thumb the head of his cock and he has to force his eyes to remain open. “I don’t….u-understand.”
You let out a breath, some feeling fluttering behind your ribs, and you give into impulse and lean forward once more. Pressing a chaste kiss to the side of his cock before looking up to meet his eyes.
“My aim is not to conquer you, Izuku,” you murmur. Your lips brushing that velvet skin as your mouth moves. “It is simply to have you. For I have dreamed of nothing but the taste of you for many months.”
In a breath, a moment, you press another kiss and then allow yourself to take. Letting the fat head of his cock slip past your lips and fill your mouth so full it makes you shudder down to your toes.
The taste of him blooms over your tongue, musky salt and skin mixing with the sharpness of the seal, and you moan. Shifting to sit up higher on your knees so you can really take him in, giving yourself over to the surge of heat that prickles through your body. Laving your tongue against the underside of the head and groaning weakly as prespend blurts against your palate and makes your mouth flush wet with saliva.
You lose a bit of time there. Allowing yourself what has occupied your thoughts at night and tortured you throughout your days in equal measure. Suckling at him as you chase pure indulgence, shivering with satisfaction as you feel him grow harder still in your hand and hear the distant rasp of his breathing beyond. Some pacing, wild part of you somehow soothed by this. Calmed in the very flaming center of you as you finally, finally have what you’d not let yourself admit that you wanted.
You finally pull yourself away when you feel his balls begin to lift. Beginning to draw up tight, his breath going shallow and quick and wheezing out of him on a warbling moan when you let his cock pop free from the warm wet of your mouth and the cool air rushes between you.
You’re not ready for this to end. Not yet.
You go back to pulsing him gently in your fist. Breathing out a little shaky and letting your cheek rest in the pillow of your arm where it’s draped over his thigh.
You are wet. Can feel yourself soaking through your shorts, slick dripping down the insides of your thighs. You want, more than you even know how.
When you look up at him, it’s through your lashes. Blinking slowly, feeling a little dazed, a lot pleasured, and you watch as he lifts a trembling hand to your face. Staring down at you like you’re you’re the cosmos as his thumb brushes over the line of your cheek. Touching you for the very first time. Choosing to, as his thumb touches at the corner of your lips and you turn to take the tip of it between your teeth. Sucking sweetly on the pad of his thumb as he sucks in ragged breaths and lets you.
He speaks again in his native tongue. A soft murmur you don’t understand but sounds nearly reverent. Pressing his thumb against one of your canines until the skin splits on the edge there and a drop of his blood sizzles against your tongue.
It slips from your mouth when you speak again and you miss the weight of it at once.
“Have you, Izuku?” you ask. Feeling your tail twitch behind you, watching his eye go to it and then return to yours. “Have you been tempted?” By me.
His halo flares bright in reply. A little starburst of light in the darkening air of your apartment that fades a moment later, a humming thrum sounding from it over top his head.
It’s answer enough, but he indulges you further. Chewing on his lower lip before letting out a tight breath and nodding. Once, then twice.
“Y-yes…I…”
You purr. Leaning in to press another kiss to the side of his cock, letting your tongue toll around the head for a moment before drawing back.
“Have you thought of me? Like this?” you ask.
Sucking your cock.
Bringing you pleasure.
Staining you with my sin.
His cock kicks so hard in your hand that you think for a moment he’s coming. But he simply nods again, face aflame with the truth of it. His hips trembling and twitching against the grip you have around his cock. Barely resisting thrusting into your fist the way his body is pleading him to.
“Yes,” he whispers. A single word that sinks through the air between you like a stone through water. A confession of the highest order, uttered so softly that you barely hear it.
Your cunt throbs sharply between your legs and you press a hand against it to ease the ache. His cock pulses, too. Achingly hard, twitching at every feather-soft brush of your breath. Leaking prespend so steadily that your hand is nearly coated with it. Both of you wobbling on that daring cliffside, not yet sure if you will fight to climb or let yourselves fall.
You resist the urge to take him back into your mouth. Rocking your weight back onto your heels to try to clear just a bit of your head from the heady haze that’s settled deeply over it.
“What would you like to do, Izuku?” you ask. The predatory impulse to hunt, to take, that had been coursing through you since he first appeared in your apartment has quieted within you. Settled into something much deeper. Something much more tender, that you dare not examine closely.
You realize, looking up at his face, that you do not wish to take. You wish instead for him to choose.
He can’t seem to find the words to respond. His lips parted and bitten red, his breathing coming in short, soft little pants as his hips continue to nudge gently against your fist. You wonder if he even knows what he wants. What he’s allowed, if he simply chooses to take it.
You drag the pad of your thumb up the underside of his cock to feel him shudder.
“Do you want to come, Izuku?”
His body ripples on a wave of something, a groan catching between his teeth as he looks down at you, his hands fisting tight on either side of his thighs. He nods, lower lip caught in his teeth. His eyes darker than wells of ink in the soft, golden glow from his halo.
You hum to yourself softly. Nodding in sympathy, feeling your sex clutch down around nothing. Wanting that for yourself, wanting that for him.
“Where?”
Only the tight grip of your hand on him keeps him from coming, his cock jerking in your fist as breath rushes from him in a wheeze. His eyes widening on a groan, startled by the question. Overwhelmed by whatever answer must have flashed reflexively through his mind.
“W-what?” he asks. He’s begun to shake again, all along his body. Having been kept on this delicate knife’s edge of release for so long that he looks about to lose himself entirely.
You take pity on him and press another kiss to the head of his cock. “Like this?” you ask. “In my hand?” You give him one firm pump of your fist and watch the muscles of his jaw, all the way down his chest, tighten sharply. “In my mouth?” Another kiss pressed, swiping your tongue around the head and drinking down the flood of prespend that spits out against your palate. “Inside my cunt?”
His entire body jerks. Lifts so abruptly from the couch on a strangled sound that it nearly tips you back, and when you manage to push him back down again, the near frantic flaring in his eyes, the blinding flash of his halo, tells you everything you need to know.
You feel nearly dizzy with want when you finally release his cock. Your core gripping down when you hear it slap wetly against his abdomen, rigid and flushed dark with arousal, knowing what’s coming, finally, as you let your palms trail along his bare thighs and then let yourself drift backwards and down to the floor. Light headed as you settle down onto your back and work your shorts down from your hips with hands that have gone clumsy with want.
The air that rushes over you makes you shiver as you let your knees drift apart to see where you left him. Looking up at him even more now, from your place on your living room floor, unable to stop your hand from slipping down between your legs and reaching for where you’ve been heated and aching for what feels like an eternity.
You moan, head tipping back against the floor, when you find yourself soaked. Fever hot and dripping beneath your fingers as you touch yourself with deliberate care. Feeling sparks follow in the wake of your fingertips as you let them drag softly through your folds. Stroking gently from bottom to top and shivering at every pass over the crest of your sex and that little bundle of nerves pulsing there.
You realize he nearly followed you reflexively when you slipped down to the floor. He’s leaned forward now, perched on the edge of the couch instead of pressed back against it, his hand gripping the edge tight as his eyes rove over the sight of you laid out beneath him. Breathing a bit hard, his other hand fisting against his thigh to keep from gripping at his cock that’s twitching insistently against his hip.
He seems stunned. Frozen in place, his eyes gone distant as they drift to where your hand is gliding between your legs. Staring intently as the wet sounds of your fingers against your cunt soften through the air in time with the breathy moans slipping from you.
“Izuku,” you murmur. Drawing his eyes to yours slowly, like he’s dazed. He wets his lips and whines softly. Trapped where he’s sat, it seems. His halo glowing bright over his head as his breathing echoes harshly through the room.
Pleasure you’d kept at a low simmer inside of you for so long rises quickly. Right there when you reach for it, your hips tilting against your hand as your fingers begin to follow familiar paths. Knowing this form from inhabiting it for so long, knowing where you press and where to pull. Where to drag your fingertips and where to push.
You sigh, your back arching off the floor. Your eyes locked to his as you give up trying to control the thoughts dripping like honey from your mind to your lips.
“Want you, Izuku,” you whisper. Blinking slowly at him as you thumb gently at your clit, moaning when the touch makes your belly cinch tight. “Want you inside. Need to feel it.”
Even in the dark of your apartment, you can see his nostrils flare on a rough inhale and exhale. A shuddering, ragged thing, sounding like he’s breaching the surface of a deep lake and gasping his first breath. He whimpers in reply, from somewhere deep in his chest, and your belly dips with heat.
Your other hand slips beside the first and you tremble when you let the tip of a finger tease against the slit of your cunt. Needing to be stuffed full, wanting it so badly it nearly deafens you, every part of you clenched tight with anticipation.
Your mind has gone syrupy on you now, your head thudding weakly back against the floor as familiar images begin to float through your mind’s eye. The fantasies you’d locked away tight every morning after a lonely night surging to the forefront, imagining that the finger tracing the delicate seam of you is his. Thick and crooked from battle, ready to plunge deep into you. To fill you up until you’re ready for the thick spear of his cock.
The rush of it has you gasping. Your eyes flying back open in the dark of the room as pleasure spikes painfully bright through you, sharp and electric, and you realize in a panic that you’re so very, very close.
“Izuku,” you groan. Writhing against the floor as your body tries to move against the hands you’ve stilled against yourself. Needing to come on his cock like you need to draw air to breathe. “Now, please - “
You don’t even see him move. The shape of him is a blur as his divine power crackles in the air on a sudden pulse, and then you’re moaning, loud, too loud, as his body nearly collides with yours, there on the ground. As he fills the space between your thighs in a rush, breathing in rasping gasps as he knocks your thighs up over his and fits himself against you. On instinct, must be, for his eyes when they meet yours are nothing but wild.
You’re nodding without meaning to, your thighs spreading eagerly around the bulk of his hips as he settles you against him. His hand bumps against the base of your tail by accident and it makes you shudder and rock against him as sparks flare bright behind your eyelids. Pleasure and pain twining together into something breathlessly new and intoxicating as he leans himself over you on heaving, desperate breaths.
You feel him reach between you and bare your teeth at him. Snarling on instinct, the demon in you snapping its jaws, the flaming core at the center of you flaring bright, and he snarls back. His teeth glinting in the glow of his halo as he guides himself to where you begin to give to the pressure and roots himself deep inside you with one hard slot of his hips.
It knocks the breath from you. Makes your eyes roll back into your skull as your lungs seize on a gasp, and you scrabble at him with desperate hands. Scratching him, drawing blood along his shoulders as your body flings between needing to draw him close and shove him away.
He stills you by force. His hands finding your wrists and pinning them down beside your head as he looms over you, a loud, strangled sound still falling from his lips as he settles his weight against you. As his cock stuffs deeper still inside your cunt.
There’s just your breathing and his for a moment then, your eyes meeting through the darkness, his halo casting a faint golden glow over the both of you there on your apartment floor.
He hisses out something in a language you don’t understand but sound like a curse and it’s only then that you realize your eyes have fallen closed.
You open them, and your breath leaves you.
He’s there, over top of you. Inside of you, throbbing and thick and hot, plunged so deep and tight you can feel him in your throat. He’s looking down at you with eyes wide, mouth dropped open in panting breaths, his expression utterly undone.
On either side of him, a faint and glimmering shimmer in the dark, you see two great shapes unfurling. Stretching out, fading in and out of view as his control of his physical form wavers with his restraint. You feel a disturbance in the air, a faint puff of breath across your heated and sensitive skin as the shapes move once in a delicate motion, and it’s only then that your pleasure slowed mind realizes that what you’re seeing are his wings.
“Angel,” you moan, your fingers sliding through his hair at the nape of his neck and gripping down tight, and it’s all the permission that he needs.
He groans, deep and wounded, grips your thighs, and gives himself to you.
It’s only the weight of his body pinning yours down that keeps you in place beneath him as he draws back and shoves himself back into the tight, wet clutch of your cunt.
You moan, both of you, your eyes locked to his in the dark as both of you feel it. Feel the pulse of where you’re joined, feel the tight stretch of your core around his cock. Pulsing and aching, thrumming with power just below the surface and nearly crackling where skin slides against skin.
He gives you another hard rut of his hips, punctuated by a harsh groan, and when he sees your head roll against the floor and your back arch against him, he bares his teeth and begins to fuck you.
The slam of his hips against yours is tectonic. Slapping and hard, driven by blind instinct as his hands grip at your hips to keep you pressed tight to him as his body tells him what to do. Nothing pure about the bruises his hands are pressing into your skin. Nothing holy about the way his upper body falls down over you and his nose nudges against yours. Your mouths panting against each other until you surge up to take his lower lip between your teeth, and then one of his hands is darting up to grip at your face, to crush your mouth to his, and you give yourself over to the riptide of everything entirely.
You feel out of your body. Out of the human form your infinite presence has been packed into every inch of for as long as you’ve been on earth. Bursting at the seams as the the hellish power rooted in your soul surges up, swirling, scorching, in your body like column of fire. Flaring in instinctive response, a millennial old and part of the very fabric of your being, to the heavenly power churning within his body as it moves against yours.
Mortal enemies, the two of you. Sworn adversaries a millenia storied down to your very core, moving together, taking each other, as the both of you fall and fall and fall together.
His tongue curls against yours, amid sharp, nipping teeth, and the taste of his blood sizzling down the back of your throat makes your body writhe against his. Your hands clutching at his shoulders, clinging to him as the slap of his hips against yours nearly sends you across the floor.
You’d learned the feel of him in your hand, in your mouth, yet he feels impossible inside of you. Like he’s growing still, with every hard plunge inside of you. Filling places you didn’t know existed, making room that wasn’t there before. Plugging you so full it feels as if you’ll burst with every snap of his hips to yours.
His mouth leaves yours and you gasp to draw in air. Your breath knocked out of you in time with every rut, every hard slap of your bodies together, making your head swim in muted swirls of shadow from the encroaching night beyond your window and the glow of his halo. Filling your eyes with what looks like a galaxy, dazed and drifting heady and dark.
He stays down over you as he fucks you. One of his hands gripped tight on your hip, the other still curled around your jaw. His eyes locked to yours as you breathe the same air, your face tipped up towards his, as you each give in whenever the urge to nip and lick at the other’s mouth flickers.
He murmurs something in his native tongue, breathless and missed by your ear, but the sound of his voice brings a memory to you. Flooding your mind with the picture of when you first saw him. Near a year ago, now, when you’d first arrived in this town, the orders of your mission freshly inked into your tongue.
At the end of your first skirmish, the both of you panting and covered in blood as your mortal target scrolled through his phone a stone’s throw from you, unaware completely of the titanic powers clashing over his soul just behind him, Izuku had straightened himself up. Stood tall, his wings spread massive and broad behind him as the air crackled with the divinity of his power.
He’d wiped blood from his nose, his mouth, and he’d smiled at you. Grinned, blood staining his teeth, and told you that he was going to win. Told you that he would triumph in the battle for this man’s eternal soul, a line you’d heard from every angel you’d ever faced down.
You’d stared at him. Spitting blood onto the ground, having decided the current spat a draw, and had turned to leave, when he’d called out for you.
You’d turned back, incredulous. Curious if he meant to engage you again, to attack you from behind, but he’d simply fluffed his massive wings and offered you his name.
Izuku.
You’d felt the name tremble along your skin when he’d said it. Felt the shimmer of it in the air and the weight of it as it settled into your mind. Names have power, in your world. In his.
You’d stared at him, then. Gobsmacked, as he’d bid you goodbye, and disappeared with a flex of his wings and a burst of speed up into the blue, clear sky.
His name had played on a loop in your mind as you’d trudged back to your studio apartment that day, and then never really stopped.
Now, you find you can’t see enough of him in the dark. Clinging to him still as he fucks you deep and true, grunting over you as his thighs smack into yours, as his cock fills you again and again, and you find yourself wishing that his halo burned brighter so his face was less bathed in shadow.
It’s a thought you don’t care to keep and you push it from the forefront of your mind. Leaning up to bite at his lip instead, drawing him back down to you as he hisses and chases you. His mouth searing hot and wet over yours as he groans against your tongue.
Your nails are raking down his back, drawing bloodied scratches across the bunching, flexing muscle, your hands brush the border of something rooted deep between his shoulder blades.
The touch startles you at first, has your eyes flying open, before you let your fingers spread across the shape of it and he shivers atop you. Full-bodied, his motion stuttering on an aborted whine, and then you catch that glimmer in the dark again and realize you’ve got your hands around the base of his wings.
You bare your teeth at him, the demon core in you scorching on something hot and a little cruel, and when you dig your fingers into the faint, ghostly feeling of the feathers there, his entire body lurches against yours.
He nearly collapses on top of you, his body going limp for a moment like all his strings had been cut, and you have a split second to wonder if it’s painful for him before he’s moaning so hoarse that his voice breaks and surging into you so fiercely it snaps your teeth together with the force of his claim.
Your eyes nearly roll back into your head, your skin sizzling where it slides against his as the powers within both of you begin to roil and crest. Your pleasure is building alongside the dark tendrils of your demon strength, coiling tight in your belly and rushing up, up, towards the surface of you in a torrential current you feel tugging at every nerve in your body.
You have a moment to wonder, to fear, far too dimly, if you’ll cause damage when you come. If he will. If you’ll level the apartment complex if you lose control over the swelling, writhing strength you feel surging in you, but when his teeth snap together an inch from your face, you lose the ability to care.
You’re close. Teetering on the edge, being dragged, hurtling towards a sheer cliff, and you whisper his name. You root your fingers in his wings as deep as you can, and you grip.
He screams.
Time slows, your senses sharpening to a fine point, as you feel him begin to come.
His halo flashes like a strike of lightning, a crack sounding through the air so loud it makes the hairs on your arms stand on end, and you have a second of wonder, of stunned stillness that edges into awe, into fear, as the light from his halo dims and you see that he’s glowing.
Light is coming from beneath his skin. Faint beams of it casting from his eyes, wide and unseeing, and his mouth, dropped open on a strangled, wounded sound, as he comes.
He screws himself into you with a bruising strength. Burying himself as far as he can and then stilling over you as his cock stiffens and bursts. Jerking inside of you as he finds his release, filling you with lash after lash of cum that feels molten inside of you, and it has your hand flying down between your bodies. Chasing, chasing that climbing pleasure inside of you, pressing down at the crest of your sex where aching, needing that pressure so badly it makes you want to scream -
Your orgasm verges on pain. Blindingly bright and scorching through your veins, as you cling to him and make sounds that verge on a wail. Cresting high and fast and falling just as quick, until you thud back to the floor beneath him and find yourself staring up. Gasping, chest heaving as spots touch the edge of your vision and you swim in the delirium of endorphins thickening up your blood.
You can feel him inside of you still. Can feel the heat and weight of his release buried deep, and you turn a bleary eye up and the ceiling and wonder, with whatever parts of your conscious mind you can gather back together, if you’re about to be smote by the heavens. If this is how it ends for you, after your millenia alive.
He ends up wrenching himself from you when the searing heart between your skin and his becomes unbearable, and you both groan loudly when he pulls free. He rolls to his hip beside you, the shadow glimmer of wings beginning to fade as the light beaming from his angel center begins to dim.
The two of you lay there on your living room floor, then. Side by side, you staring at the ceiling and him staring at the side of your face as you both heave and gasp and try desperately to catch your breath again.
There’s a ruckus from outside, the sound of people shouting in the street, and it draws your eye to the clock over the window.
Bar close, you realize. Just the local drunks making their way home.
The ticking of that clock fills the air along with your breathing. The realization of what you’ve done begins to creep in but it settles strangely in your belly as you stare up at the dark ceiling.
You feel…settled. Centered, in a way. The open flame that perpetually flickers inside of you, your demon core, soothed into a gentle flicker.
It should concern you. Should make you angry or afraid, but you just turn your head and see him watching you in the dark. The light from his halo back to its regular golden hue, not throwing enough light for you to really see the look on his face.
Just as well, you think. There’s no expression you could see on his face that would satisfy you except one of disgust, and you’d bet that’s not the one he’s wearing there in the dark. Easier this way. To not know.
He gathers himself eventually. His halo thrumming softly as he pushes himself to his feet and roots around for his pants. Stepping into them, his face turned towards you no matter where he goes.
He touches at the scraps of his shirt, where you’d sliced it down the middle, and seems to decide there’s nothing to be done for it, his hands dropping down to his sides.
You stay there on the floor. Watching him but pretending not to, trying to push past the eerie sense of calm that’s soaking into your bones.
You can feel him, still. Inside of you. Glowing hot and bright where he’d spilled so close to your vessel’s womb. You wonder, as you track the shadow of his form as he gathers his things you’d strewn about, if he feels it too.
He moves finally to the door and you breathe out slowly. Waiting for the tell-tale creak of your old door, but it doesn’t come.
You push yourself up on your elbows and see him standing there, on your threshold. One hand on the door knob as he looks down at where you’re laying still on the floor.
“This encounter has ended, Izuku,” you say, after a lingering moment. Your voice comes out softer than you mean it to. Hardly the get the fuck out of here it was in your mind.
Still, he pauses. What he sees of you in the dim ambient light from the street outside casting through the window, you’re not sure, but you can feel his eyes on you like the caress of a gentle hand.
More ruckus from the street outside, the sounds of a bar fight spilling out into the street, but his voice calls you back to him in the dark.
“Will you tell me your name?”
The words hang in the air. Heavy, but not without hope.
He might as well have asked you to bare your soul to him. A thousand responses come to you, from incredulity at the question to anger at the audacity to the cruel impulse to mock him, all cycling through your mind and tangling up with each other until you can’t string together a single coherent thought.
“Izuku…” you say instead. Voice trailing, something coloring the tone that you can’t quite control.
He doesn’t take it for the dismissal you mean it to be. Standing there at the door, watching you. Waiting for you to give him something he has no right to ask for.
This new calm at the center of you pulses, once, then twice, and it makes you close your eyes. To sit in the feeling of it for a moment as the brittle edges of you are soothed and cooled by some force you don’t understand.
You open your eyes and he’s still there, and you shake your head at him. Wondering to yourself what you’ve done. What you will do, because you know in that moment that this is not the end of…this. Whatever this is.
You draw in a slow breath, swallow past the coppery taste of the seal burning on your tongue, and tell him your name.
Warnings: mention of nightmare, hurt/comfort, soft smut, female receiving oral, unprotected sex, light biting, my nose kink is evident here sorry not sorry 😬
Word Count: 4k
a/n: This is my submission for the Cummunity's Tender Taboo's Collab, check out the masterlist and read all the awesome pieces as and when they come out. But please read tags as there is some extremely dark content! I went for tender so no warnings here really, except for the fact this is my first ever smut lmao. Thank you so much wife @dabilove27 for being my beta and hyping me up immensely (also for giving me a title), this would not have happened without you, I love you 💙
Lullaby:
You couldn't sleep.
You swear you had been exhausted when you and Edward had crawled into the apartment, just shy of midnight, and collapsed into bed. Ed was out as soon as his head hit the pillow, but you couldn't seem to settle your racing thoughts and let go of the day. It had been a busy one, full of research in the library and chasing up several leads on a promising case. Useless information and earlier conversations swirled around your mind in an anxious haze, and so here you were, two hours later, staring up at the cement ceiling in resigned defeat.
A few minutes ago, Ed had begun twitching in his sleep. His loose hair splayed across the pillow messily, as low murmurs fell from his lips in a jumble of words that you couldn't make sense of. It wasn't anything new. This was his nightly routine, unimaginable terrors plagued his fitful sleep, until he eventually awoke in a cold sweat. You were used to it by now, and usually slept through the minor stuff, only stirring if he jerked awake with a kick or a yell.
But tonight, was different. The terrors gripped him early and were getting worse, you could tell by the pants and groans that escaped him, and the way his head tossed from side to side. You thought it's probably why you couldn't sleep, your body so attuned to his that it knew tonight was going to be a bad one, that he would need you. You tensed as he sucked in a gasp and his breathing halted, but when he finally let out an exhale a few seconds later, you slowly relaxed and reached out a hand to find his.
Your pinky finger had just grazed his fingers when a thunderous roar erupted from his chest and pierced the stale air. The sound bounced off the bare walls and wooden floorboards, and filled up the small room. You jerked into a sitting position in total panic. The noises that left Ed's mouth were inhuman, broken, inconsolable and you wrestled with the covers, scrambling out of them to reach him.
He was sitting up now, shoulders hunched over himself, while shaky hands grabbed at his hair harshly, as if he could pull the horrors from his subconscious. You hovered next to him on your knees, breath held and heart beating wildly, as you came down from the rush of adrenaline that had spiked through your bloodstream at his shout. It was when his shoulders began to shake, and pained moans became laboured breaths, that you jerked out of your stupor and placed a gentle hand on his back, touch hesitant so as not to startle him. He stiffened, as if realising he wasn't alone, wasn't inside a nightmare of his own twisted creation, but home...in bed...with you. One touch was all it took for him to come back to himself.
His head shot up alarmingly fast and his mechanical arm reached for you just as quickly, he grabbed your upper arm in a forceful grip. The bite of cold metal sharp against your skin, goosebumps bloomed under the hold, as his other hand cupped your jaw gently. The polarising pressure in either touch was dizzying, one possessive and desperate, the other gentle and imploring. Those honey irises of his were wide, fixed on your own, and wavered as fresh tears escaped them.
"You're alive," Ed whispered, voice hoarse and thick with emotion. Your heart shattered then and there, and you placed your own hand over his in a comforting gesture.
"I'm alive," you confirmed, thumb rubbing over his knuckles in a repetitive motion.
At the sound of your voice, a whoosh of breath left his lungs and his head fell forwards, it landed on your shoulder with a thump. Your arms immediately caught him as he sagged against you, the fingers of one hand brushed through his tangled locks, while the others ran up and down his back to soothe him. His skin was clammy to the touch, sweat already drying in the cool air of the rented room you shared. Small tremors rippled through his body, from the chill or the lasting nightmare, you weren't sure. You held him a little tighter, now using a whole hand to rub along his back in hopes the friction would warm his skin.
Ed nuzzled into your neck with a hum of content and rubbed his nose against your pulse point in circular motions. He inhaled deeply as if he could breathe you in and keep you safe that way. The same mantra escaped his lips over and over as he clung to you, "you're okay, you're okay." You said it with him, willed the reality behind those words into his mind. As much as you wished that these moments wouldn’t occur, you despised the cause, you cherished them. Edward was an open and honest person, but it wasn’t often he showed this amount of vulnerability, allowed someone to take care of him. And you loved to take care of him. He often called you his ‘tonic’ for the bad dreams, a balm on his shattered heart and fragmented mind, after all the years of heartbreak and torture.
You closed your eyes tight to stop your own tears from falling, the last thing he needed was to end up comforting you, and placed your cheek on his head. You breathed in deeply, mimicking his action, and took in that familiar, comforting smell. The subtle scent of his skin, wood and musk with a hint of spiced sugar, mixed with the harsh tang of metal and sweat and the citrus of his shampoo. It was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. His smell went straight between your legs, and you struggled to keep your breathing even, especially when his touch went from blind panic to a desperate need.
His fingers stopped clutching you to him and instead began roaming insistently, over your shoulders, across the back of your neck. Hands smoothed down your back, one warm skin and the other cold metal, the stark difference in temperature and feel caused you to shiver involuntarily. The same hands slid to your front and settled over your waist, and used it as an anchor point to pull you closer to him. You acquiesced, you lifted your hips instinctively and your knees fell apart to allow him into the small space between them, ushering him in.
His mouth was molten against your skin, lips pressed open mouthed kisses down your neck, and teeth nipped playfully at the delicate skin of your collarbone, he worked every inch of flesh until it felt like it was on fire. Every sweeping touch, every heated brush of his lips, every comforting word murmured against your skin was a reminder that you were real; as if he had to make his reassurances that you were safe tangible. Your gentle fingers tightened in his hair and pulled the strands near his scalp as you made a fist, mouth falling open as your head dropped back against your shoulders.
His affections continued, the tip of his nose and plush of his lips blazing a path down your chest and between the valley of your breasts. He paused for effect- his hot breath fanned over your cool skin and drove you wild. Then, without warning, he turned and sank his teeth into the soft flesh of your under breast through your cotton slip. You gasped out his name in shock and arousal.
"E-Ed!" Your legs tightened at his waist where they caged him between you. His name on your lips was all it took for him to lose his composure, the fingers of his right hand curled into the fabric of your nightdress where it lay at your waist, and yanked. Metal creaked as fabric tore, the fibres separated all the way up, and snapped the spaghetti strap that had slipped down your shoulder. You shrieked in alarm as he used his other hand to whip the useless garment from your body and discard it behind him carelessly. Before you had time to scold him, his hands were on you again, fervent in their mission to map out your flesh.
The thumb and fore finger of his left hand found your nipple and began to tug at the already hardened bud. His mouth worked the other, tongue laving over the tip before he sucked it into his mouth. You moaned into the frigid air, now pressed flat against the bed, elbows barely propped you up. Ed continued his ministrations, eyes locked on yours, they looked like liquid gold in the dim light of the moon, darkened with lust and shadow. He looked sinful as he suckled at your breast like a man starved. Your mouth fell open in another ‘O' as heat pooled in your stomach, slick rushing to wet your slit and coat your inner thighs.
You groaned as you tried to squeeze your legs together, you sought friction, but found only the impediment of his waist. His eyelids fluttered shut, long lashes brushed his full cheeks, when your hips rose to meet his. Your clothed pussy rolled along him slowly, panties already damp with arousal, and caused his hardened member to twitch at the sensation. Within seconds he had slid down the bed, and taken your panties with him, before your legs were thrown over his shoulders. You cried out when he dove between your legs enthusiastically, no trace of the usual cocky grin he wore, too focused on your body. His nose grazed your thigh as pointed canines' bit into the flesh there. He held the action for a moment, as if savouring the feel of you between his teeth, and the sound of your breathy whines as you urged him to move elsewhere.
He sank his teeth into the other thigh for good measure, harder this time, as his composure slipped once more before he plunged his tongue into your dripping hole. You clamped around the wet muscle with a wanton moan and your fingers found his hair again. His own appreciative moans were drowned between your folds, sending vibrations of pure pleasure to your sensitive clit. You clamped your thighs around his head and rocked up into his face, you met every thrust as he fucked you on his tongue, his hands held your thighs apart so he could revel in his meal.
When your whimpers and pleas for more became a song in your throat, he slid his tongue out of your hole and up to your clit, and swirled around the bundle of nerves. You yanked a fistful of his hair and levelled a lust-filled gaze at him as you breathed out a single word, "please." He knew what it meant. All pretence of foreplay gone, he sucked your clit into his mouth and shoved two of his thick fingers into your cunt right up to the knuckles. You babbled and whined like a cat in heat, as he curled his digits deliciously, hitting that spot inside you that had your toes curled against his shoulder blades. You were so wet, his fingers squelched in and out of you as he slurped and licked at your pussy, a sinful cacophony of sex.
You were already on the brink, ready to topple over into euphoria when his fingers were ripped from you and his tongue stilled, flat on your clit. You sobbed at the ruined orgasm; your hole fluttered around nothing. Ed gave you one last flick of his tongue, you clenched in response, before he placed a messy kiss to the swollen bud. He rose to stand by the edge of the bed and pushed your legs up and out as he moved to settle between them, the rough pad of his thumb settled instantly on the skin underneath your eye, soothing the frustrated tears. You hiccupped and gasped out a breath, as you tried to get out words to let him know how much you needed him.
He only gave you a shhhhh and pressed his lips to yours sweetly, they were wet with spit and slick and mixed with the salt of your tears. You held onto him for dear life, mouths moulded perfectly to one another, tongues intertwined in a battle for dominance. The taste of your tang was on him. Your heart beat so fast you thought it might pound straight out of your chest as you lost yourself in him, the feel of his chapped lips against yours, his thumbs on your cheeks, fingers curled around your face and nestled behind your ears. The warmth that radiated from him lit you up from the inside out, as the smooth metal of his automail cooled your feverish desire.
You marvelled in the hot and cold, the hard and soft feel of him, and drew his tongue into your mouth, biting on it playfully. He moaned long and low and it went straight between your legs like a bolt of electricity. You arched up into him and swallowed his spit that was on your tongue. Your hands grabbed at his face, neck, shoulders- wherever you could find purchase-desire coursed through your veins and urged him on. He wasted no time in pulling away from you, teeth nipped at your bottom lip to disconnect the two of you, before he whipped off his boxers and lined himself up with your hole.
Your breath was ragged, so hard and fast it sounded like you'd ran a marathon, face hot and sticky. Ed's own face was flushed a deep red across the apples of his cheeks, his chest rose and fell with every stuttered breath. His hands gripped at your waist as he watched himself slide through the wet mess of your folds, rolling over your clit deliciously. You cursed under your breath and bucked into the movement, his tip caught on your hole before the ridge of his cockhead slipped past the first ring of muscle, he was ecstasy against your walls.
He made a beastly noise before he roughly pulled you onto the rest of his length, spearing your insides. The action pulled a string of cries from you as he set a brutal pace. His eyes never left the spot where you were both connected, a union of your passion. His plump bottom lip was caught between his perfect white teeth as he bit hard to control the lewd moans that threatened to spill from his tongue. Beads of sweat sprung from his hairline and rolled down his forehead as he let loose inside you. You writhed beneath him, already rocketing towards a peak you weren't yet prepared for. His cock dragged against the walls of your cunt as he pulled out of you, and hit that sweet spot over and over as he snapped his hips and plunged back in.
He felt so good inside of you that your eyes rolled back as you tried to gasp out words. This wasn't right. You needed him closer. As close as humanly possible.
You laced your fingers with his and tugged on his hand, foot pressed into his back to urge him closer. Ed snapped his eyes up to meet your lidded gaze and his expression softened in an instant. It was always so thrilling like this; you weren’t sure which side of him you were going to get. As if he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to take his time and worship every inch of you or if he wanted to be inside you immediately and devour you whole. He slowed his brutal pace, gave you a few more pumps, and placed both hands around your ankles and pulled you closer to him at the edge of the bed. You squealed and giggled as he scooped you into his chest, arm laced around your back as he crawled across the bed with you tucked to him, still inside you. Once he was situated, he sat on his knees and let you drop fully back into his lap. He groaned as your greedy walls clenched around him tightly, sucked him in. You let out a loud whimper and his cock twitched inside you, ready to spill over.
You leant into him, chest pressed to his, your nipples caught on his skin as you laced your arms around his neck slowly. Your fingers tangled in his sweaty blonde locks and scratched at his scalp. He hissed as you rolled your hips and gyrated slowly. Maddeningly slow. He huffed a breath, the hot air between you charged, laced with a tension and a magnetism that was overwhelming. You pressed your lips to his gently and smiled against his mouth, it never got old, kissing him. The feel of him, the taste of him, it was so familiar yet still so exciting. Your tongue licked at his bottom lip, requesting access.
His lips parted for you, his tongue met yours unhurriedly, for a delicately tender kiss. All the words that he wanted to voice, the emotion he wanted to express being spoken right now, in this moment with the touch of your lips and dance of your tongues. You sighed into his mouth, and rolled your hips slowly once more, as the kiss deepened and became sloppier with each second that passed. Teeth found lips, and moans met flesh, and vibrated into the hollows of who you were. Edward's hands travelled from the small of your back to cup your ass cheeks, he held your plush skin in his palms and guided you up and down his cock, giving you the support, you needed.
You let out a string of unintelligible praises and appreciations as he split you open carefully. You allowed the kiss to break as you rolled your head to rest against his shoulder, you wanted to focus on the feel of him filling you so perfectly, so completely, like he was made for you and you for him. Your rolls and thrusts became more frantic, it was a deep and animalistic feeling that passed between the two of you, despite the languid pace. Fresh kisses met his collarbone, his neck, his shoulder, wherever they could land as you whispered pretty things to him, things that made his heart skip a beat and cheeks flame. The fire that roiled in your gut became almost unbearable and you whimpered as Ed thrust into you particularly deep. His good hand left its position on your ass, allowing his metal appendage to take your weight, and touched your chin. Two fingers guided your head up so you could look at him, and you stared into those bottomless pools of topaz that only held kindness and gratitude and devotion. He leaned closer and whispered against your lips, "Touch yourself for me, I want you to make yourself come".
A shudder rippled the whole way down your body, and the noise that left your throat was purely feral as you obeyed. Your fingers trailed down his broad chest, over his sculpted abs and through the tuft of blonde curls at his base, before gliding over the space where you both met. Your fingers finally stilled on your aching and swollen clit, sparks of pleasure ignited through you at that simple touch, at the slightest pressure on your bundle of nerves. Ed smiled against your skin, his nose skimmed along your jaw before his lips brushed the shell of your ear, "Good girl."
You practically sobbed at the contentment in his purred praises, the love and adoration in his voice. You began to fuck yourself on his cock desperately, fingers dipped into the juices that leaked out around him and swirled over your sensitive bud. He rested his forehead against yours with an uncontrolled whine, damp skin stuck together, fingers laced through his once more as your joined hands fell to your thigh. You moved together beautifully, it was no longer careful or controlled but just as tender, like you were making music with every thrust, every touch, every cry. You screamed out his name in warning, as the dam of emotion and tension broke inside you, waves of ecstasy crashed into your senses and washed over every nerve. Your body was a live wire as you convulsed around Ed's cock, so fiercely that he fell over the edge with you and spilled inside you with a shout. He jerked into you sporadically, as he emptied the last of his balls into your over-sensitive pussy in hot spurts. You moaned with him, limp against his front, as your breaths mingled together with each heaving pant.
You were barely able to remain upright, thankful for Ed's secure grip on you and his sturdy frame that you clung to. You allowed yourselves to stay connected for a moment in time, as you came down from the clouds, heads full of fuzz and cotton. Then Ed lifted you up and off his cock with a lewd squelch. You squeaked in shock, "Edward!" His softening dick slapped against his stomach, and he winced before he threw you down on the pillows. You bounced comically with the action, and he grinned wickedly at you.
"You're a menace." You pouted. He laughed in that perfect way of his, the one that always had you laughing alongside him, and rolled you over so he could lay down and snuggle into your back.
"But I'm your menace." His retort was muffled, his face lost in the crevice of your neck.
"Yup. All mine." You tangled your legs with his and tightened his arm around your waist with your own. "Lucky me."
"That better be sincere,” he warned against your neck, and his voice tickled the vulnerable skin there. You giggled and raised a shoulder to trap him there, as if to silence him.
"Of course, it is dummy, besides would I ever use sarcasm on you?" Your words were mocking, but your tone was warm, affectionate.
"We both know you would...and do!" He added, as if he had almost forgotten the fact, you built your relationship on exchanged insults and merciless teasing.
"As if you’re any better,” you scoffed,” I've gotta go clean up!" You attempted to sit up, but Ed wouldn't budge. You sighed and squirmed uselessly.
"You're not going anywhere. Besides, I wanna keep my cum stuffed in that pretty pussy of yours." He smiled into your shoulder, it felt obscenely wide, you could almost see it split across that annoyingly handsome face of his.
"You're nasty." You rolled your eyes as you settled back against him and lifted your arm to grab at his face. He shifted you onto your back, so he was leant over you, his hair fell around his face in a golden curtain.
"Nah, I just wanna put a baby in you," came the husky response.
Heat rushed to every part of your body, and you gaped at him, you hadn’t expected the sincere tone of his voice and that glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes. He opened his smart mouth, but before he could finish his "Always leaving you speec-" you had your lips pressed to his own. Emotion bubbled in your chest and threatened to spill over, so you put it all into the kiss, his cheeks between your palms as you caressed underneath his eyes- his favourite act of affection for you.
You parted for a gasp of air, and he murmured against you, "I love you so much.” Your heart beat for him and the pure reverence weaved into each word. You moulded your body to his and hooked a leg over his waist to pull him closer, "I love you too. Now make me your baby mumma, daddy.”
He groaned in arousal and mock defeat, "Well, how can I say no that?"
You snorted and laced your arms around his neck as he rolled over onto you, "You can't, now make love to me, like you mean it."
Step out of your comfort zone or into your happy place by joining Cummunity in our Tender Taboos Collab. This is a project that explores each end of the sensual spectrum as we aim to push our content creators and consumers to their limits.
On one end we have tooth-rotting fluff, the type that makes you soft and giddy, sweetness straight from our creators’ minds as they indulge in tender love and comfort.
On the other end we have anything and everything taboo. We want to give our creators a reason to get absolutely filthy, to write or draw the dirtiest darkest fantasies they’ve ever had.
Explore your own limits with our masterlist below, and let us know which end of the spectrum you find yourself leaning toward.
NOW LIVE! Though we don’t have all of our pieces just yet, know that the masterlist will be updated and reblogged as more of our creators finish up. Until then, enjoy the pieces down below and show some love!
Warning: Tender Taboos features extremely dark content. Each piece will be tagged appropriately, so make sure you read the warnings before diving in lest you stumble upon something that makes you uncomfortable.
ATTACK ON TITAN
@sinnerofthewalls - Erwin Smith x Reader [coming soon!]
HAIKYUU
@pomsuki - Rintarou Suna x Reader [coming soon!]
MY HERO ACADEMIA
@dabilove27 - Dabi x Reader
@andifiwasblessed - Denki Kaminari x Reader [coming soon!]
TOKYO REVENGERS
@fionarara - Ken Ryuguuji x Reader [coming soon!]
@thesimpsclub - Rindou Haitani x Reader
MISCELLANEOUS
@lady-lunaaa - Edward Elric (FMA) x Reader
ATTACK ON TITAN
@terushimooo - Erwin Smith & Levi Ackerman x Reader [coming soon!]
@erwinsn1simp - Erwin Smith & Miche Zacharias x Reader [coming soon!]
@nighttimescribbles - Multiple x Reader (gangbang)
HAIKYUU
@pomsuki - Rintarou Suna x Reader [coming soon!]
JUJUTSU KAISEN
@starryenigma - Mahito x Reader
@cyancherub - Megumi & Toji Fushiguro x Reader [coming soon!]
@martellprincess-writes - Satoru Gojo x Reader
@lord-explosion-baku - Yuji Itadori x Reader [coming soon!]
MY HERO ACADEMIA
@kingkatsuki - Eijirou Kirishima & Yo Shindou x Reader [coming soon!]
@spacelabrathor - Katsuki Bakugou x Reader [coming soon!]
TOKYO REVENGERS
@pockcock - Kazutora Hanemiya x Reader [coming soon!]
@sweetnsinfull - Shuji Hanma x Reader
@titan-fodder - Tetta Kisaki x Reader
MISCELLANEOUS
@pockcock - Shin-ah (Akatsuki No Yona) x Reader [coming soon!]
@andifiwasblessed - Frank Castle (Marvel) x Reader [coming soon!]
ATTACK ON TITAN
@ghost-party - Kenny Ackerman x Reader
@starstruckkittensweets - Kenny, Levi, & Mikasa Ackerman x Reader
Warnings: Nightmares, panic attacks, not necessarily how a grounding technique should be used, female receiving oral, soft smut, Dabi using a lot of pet names
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: This is part of Cummunity’s Tender Taboos Collab. Take time to check out the full masterlist! But please read all warnings on these pieces due to dc! I went on the tender side for this one! Thank you as always to my wife @lady-lunaaa for encouragement, beta-ing, brainstorming, and cheering me on! Thank as well to @gixxie for giving it a read through and your positive comments!
Jolting out of your sleep, your heart feels like it is bursting from your chest, images of the nightmare you just encountered flashing at the forefront of your mind. Your breath comes in quick rapid succession as you try to get yourself to calm down. A thin layer of sweat covers your palms. The thump of your heartbeat feels like it can be heard in your ears. I can't calm down is the only thought that flashes through your head before you find yourself reaching out to grab your boyfriend's warm hand.
Interlacing your fingers with his, you squeeze his hand tightly, feeling the mismatched textures of his palm along with the cool metal of his staples. It's one thing that seems to ground you the most when your past arrives to haunt your dreams. The softness of the unburned part of his hands, patches of skin burnt so profoundly over the years, and the firm but delicate staples that hold him together. Every aspect of him helps you settle back into this moment. Dabi would never know how much he does for you, even if it's just his presence near you.
Finally, Dabi begins to stir as your fingers grip him even tighter. You're sure your fingerprints are leaving marks behind from how hard you cling to him. Dabi sits up quickly, jerking himself from a deep slumber. The worn black comforter falls from his torso as he moves into an upright position. It takes him a moment to realize what's happening in his sleepy state. But as soon as he feels your delicate fingers clinging to his hand and hears your rapid breathing, he moves quickly as if his mind has cleared after a fog.
Dabi shifts his body and gingerly pulls you into his lap, careful not to break your grip with his. He holds you close to him, with the side of your head placed against his bare chest, hoping the contact will help calm you even more. His free hand moves to cup your hand that's gripping his tightly. "Babe, hold this one instead, okay," he whispers in a raspy voice, still hoarse from sleep; he trades out the intertwined hands; he then places his hand behind your back for more support. Once he can successfully switch them, he begins to rub gently up and down your back, taking care not to catch his staples on your thin nightshirt.
"Alright, alright, shhh, you're okay," he coos as gently as his voice can manage as he continues the gentle movements up and down your back. He can feel you tremble beneath his hand, and his heart wrenches inside of his chest. He wishes he could demolish the memories that bring your nightmares. Save you from this unexpected torment.
You take in a shaky breath, but your heart can't seem to stop racing. "I-"you begin with a trembling voice but can't finish it because of how disoriented you are. Thoughts glued to the images in your nightmare, you feel like you're drowning and can't reach the surface for air.
Dabi had seen you get this deep into your own mind before and went almost into a complete panic himself the first time it happened. It physically pained him to see you in such a state, and he never wanted to be in a place where he couldn't help you like the first time. After that time, he scoured the internet for ways to calm panic attacks and came across some grounding skills. After a few missteps and things that didn't work, he finally found something that helped bring you back from the images your mind plagued you with.
"It's alright, love, you don't have to explain; just tell me the first five things you see." He's so gentle when he says it, pausing for your mind to click away from the panic and into another mindset. Dabi watches your eyes as they begin to shrink from your wide-eyed stare to a more calm expression once he asks the question. He feels relief blossom in his chest, knowing that this means you're thinking about his question instead of placing all your focus in the nightmare.
You begin to look around the room, eyes darting back and forth before starting to speak. Even in the darkness, you can make out a few things in your room, thanks to the light from the street lamp shining through the busted blinds. "I see-" you hesitate with a shaky breath. "Our comforter, the door, the nightstand," your eyes glaze over the large glass bottle with clear liquid perched on Dabi's beat-up nightstand. Scrunching up your nose, you remember the times the sharp smell of alcohol filled the room as Dabi cleaned his wounds. "-your vodka-" you pause, looking for something else. Your eyes fall onto your conjoined hands, "and your hand," you finish.
"Great job, babe, now four things you can touch," he prompts so effortlessly, knowing that keeping himself calm will help you stay relaxed as well.
You begin to list the things you can touch and start to move one of your hands out from under Dabi's so that you can feel the items. Starting with his hand, you glide your fingers over its mismatched textures that you've come to cherish. Then his bare chest, marred with both scarred marks and unblemished skin, warmth radiates underneath your touch; Dabi lets out a deep chuckle when your hand touches his chest. Next, you move to feel his hair, dry and frayed from years of cheap box store dye and years of no maintenance. You finally move to his face, your hands run over the same rough textures that his hands and chest have. Even with all the burns, you can feel the chiseled bone below his cheek, muscular and defined as you trace your fingers across it.
"Okay, honey, while I would love to sit around and have you touch me all day, I want to make sure you are good," he lets out a low chuckle accompanied by a mischievous look. "Maybe after you can show me more of what you like about my body."
You throw a playful glare at Dabi as a smile begins to curl from your lips from his teasing.
Dabi ignores your glare, but he feels a sense of pride in the smile growing on your face. He feels good knowing that he can help you, that he isn't just some menace to society like the rest of the world thinks. You are his safe place, his sanctuary, and he'd destroy the world for you to be happy. "Okay, three things you hear now," He encourages you to move on to the next step.
You begin by naming two things of no significance, the air conditioning pulsing throughout the room and the sounds of someone hollering outside. Struggling to listen for a third thing, you pick up on Dabi's deep that acts like a warm blanket, enveloping your anxiety. "I hear you," it escapes in a small voice as your body begins to soften more. You start to feel your shoulders release from their tense position.
A smile emerges across Dabi's patchwork face. A genuine one this time, not the signature smirk he loves to wear or the deep-set scowl he often uses to mask his inner feelings. "You're so fucking cute, you know that? This was just a reason for you to talk about me, right?" He jokes with a lift of his eyebrows and places a soft peck on your temple.
A slight flutter goes through your belly at the action. You shoo Dabi away with a wave of your hand. Ready to move to the next step of your grounding.
He notices the hand you had once desperately used to grip his is now free.
"I smell-"you hesitate and take a breath as cool air flows in through your nostrils. The first smell that hits your nose is the vodka Dabi used earlier to wash his wounds where staples were pulling away at his burnt skin. It tended to linger in the air after he finished the task. "The vodka that you forgot to put the cap on, again." You let out with a huff while Dabi gives you another deep chuckle that vibrates through you.
"And what else, doll?" He says with amusement in his tone as his thumbs begin to massage little circles in your back.
You find yourself sinking into the feeling of his rough thumbs pressing into your soft skin just barely covered by your nightshirt. "And-"you take in another deep breath before resuming trying to pick up on any other scents in the room. After a moment, a new scent reaches your nose. A smell that you've come to love over time. An aroma that lingers on your sheets and lays heavily on Dabi's pillows. You can't count the times you've held his pillow close, comforted by the lingering smell of him.
Dabi has a masculine scent that can sometimes compel your anxiety to stop in its tracks when it reaches your nose. It's hard to place exactly what it reminds you of. Still, you can pick up on undertones of spice with ocean sea salt mixed in. He tends to cover up his natural smell with alcohol and cigarettes if he can get away with it.
But tonight, even with the open bottle of alcohol sitting right next to you, you smell more of him as you sit snuggled up in his lap. It clings to both of you. You have to stop yourself from pressing your nose into the crook of his neck to get more of the intoxicating scent.
"You-I smell you." You continue a bit mortified to say, knowing Dabi will offer another teasing comment.
But to your surprise, he only lets out a short hum before praising you, "Excellent job, babe, one more to go."
Your heart beams at his praise, and you sink into him even further. The tension is leaving your body; the nightmare is almost forgotten.
"Taste…" you mutter quietly to yourself, trying to pick up the last thing you tasted on your tongue. But your mouth is dry from sleep. Your mind draws a blank; you can't even taste the toothpaste you used before bed anymore. "I can't think of a taste right now. But I feel a lot better anyways." You say absentmindedly as you fiddle with the hand Dabi still placed on your lap.
"No taste, huh?" Dabi's deep voice vibrates against the ear that's pressed to his chest. "Sounds like something I could help you with."
You move off of his lap a bit to look up at his smoldering blue eyes, and that ever-present smirk has returned. He's holding you so gingerly like you might break at any moment and gazes at you as if you are the only thing that exists in this world. Without words or prompting, your faces begin to move closer until your lips meet.
Kissing Dabi has always been a unique experience, to say the least. The softness of his top lip directly counters the harsh burnt skin of his bottom.
Kissing him still leaves you flustered and breathless, and this one was no different.
The kiss starts out slowly but quickly moves into a feverish back and forth. You can feel the heat of your body rising as the kiss deepens. As you part your mouth to let Dabi in, you can taste the lingering vodka on his tongue as it mingles with yours. The two of you drink each other in as if you were parched.
Dabi's burning lips move away from your own and begin to leave a trail of fiery kisses down your jaw. He continues to lavish you with tiny nips and suckles down your throat.
You can feel the heat growing between your thighs as you emit a moan when Dabi gives a particular hard suck.
Without any hesitance, you both shuffle to pull off your nightwear. Dabi grabs his raven-colored boxer briefs, quickly pulls the material down and kicks them off effortlessly.
You remove your night shorts and panties just as rapidly and then promptly rid yourself of your shirt. The chilly air hits your exposed skin, and you feel your nipples start to harden.
Dabi gently pushes you down onto the mattress, you fall with a small squeak. He's hovering over you, trapping you in, while also making you feel like the outside world can't touch you. His mouth returns to you, venturing all over your body. His searing mouth locates your nipples, and he spends time giving them both attention with gentle nips and sucks. He moves on, trailing soft kisses down to your waiting clit.
You can hardly hold yourself together with all the stimulation. The once cold room is now becoming overwhelmingly warm.
Dabi's lips finally discover your dripping cunt, and he doesn't waver before parting your wet folds and latching onto your clit. You can feel the rough texture of his stitches against your sensitive folds and tremble as he continues his work.
His sucking and licking begin gentle but slowly pick up the pace as you squirm beneath him. He puts a hand on your hips and pushes them down into the mattress to keep them from bucking into his face.
Dabi takes his time stretching you out for him, starting slowly by inserting one large finger and then another. With the second finger, you let out a loud moan and grasp the weathered sheets in your fists. The sensation is becoming more overwhelming with each movement he makes. You bring your eyes to meet Dabi's, and that smolder you saw before has shifted into a full blaze.
Laying your head back down on the soft pillow, you get lost in the pleasure of it all. The nightmare is long forgotten at this point, and all you can think about is reaching your end; you're caught in the moment. Your moans become louder with every hard suck he gives. Crying out as your orgasm rushes through your core and the tight band that was building up in you finally snaps. Dabi removes his fingers but still presses soft kisses and gentle licks to your clit as you ride out your orgasm.
"You ready, babe?" He asks with a huff as he moves back to hovering over you, trapping you beneath him. He may act like a complete asshole to the world, but he's always treated you like a queen. You've gotten to see this secretly soft part of him that he refuses to share with the world. You soak all of him in from the brutal, angry exterior he shows the world to the caring and gentle person he is with you.
You give him a nod and place a small peck on the wrist closest to your face. Dabi smiles down at you and returns your kiss with one to your hairline before removing one of his hands to pump his member and smear the pearlescent precum up and down his shaft. He places his arm back down to stabilize himself and situates the head of his dick at your dripping entrance.
Dabi lets out a grunt, and he starts to push his complete length in you. A whine escapes you as you feel him fill every part of you up; your breath catches as he slowly starts to move. He feels so hot inside of you, burning you up from the inside out like a fire that can't be contained. Your hand finds his back, and you grip your nails into his unburnt skin to encourage him to go all the way.
"Fuck-you're so fucking tight, babe," he lets out with a baritone growl. The tip of his head is pushed so deep inside of you it should feel uncomfortable; all you feel is comfortably full.
Dabi is lost in the pleasure of this moment, your warm, satiny walls flutter around his member, and he knows he won't be able to hold on for much longer. He feels your nails dig into his skin even more profoundly, leaving red half-moons in their wake. Letting out a low growl in his throat as he begins to pick up his pace. His cock is hitting your sweet spot with each thrust.
You can't contain the never-ending moans spilling from your lips. A hymn to Dabi's ears. Your lips eventually find him again and press together in a searing kiss.
Dabi can feel your walls tightening around him as he continues to thrust. When you fall over the edge, your walls hold onto him with a vice-like grip, desperate to milk him dry. A moment later, Dabi plunges over his own breaking point and pours his hot cum into you.
Both of you are spent taking panting breaths as the cool air of the room touches the warmth of your bodies, glistening with beads of sweat. Dabi looks at you with those eyes that seem to glow in the dark and gently pulls out of you with a soft hiss.
He maneuvers himself off of you, landing next to you as the bed creaks under his weight. Dabi lays his open hand in the space between your palm facing up, and you place yours into his. "I love you so much, you know that?" He whispers while wrapping his long fingers around your smaller knuckles, engulfing them.
All Dabi can think about in the quiet of the room now is how much you mean to him. How you've redefined love for him. You are his world, his treasure, his lover, his absolute everything.
Hi! I saw your post on the tender taboos and I was wondering if you could further explain what it is? I tried searching it up on my own but I was still a little confused.
Hello!! So the Tender Taboos collab is a closed server collab for the Cummunity discord server.
The premise is basically our creators writing either the softest, fluffiest fic they can come up with or the dirtiest and possibly problematic fic they can (we’re encouraging everyone to remember to tag their pieces appropriately). A lot are doing both in the same fic which is awesome.
So it’s basically exploring the two extremes. But it will be full of dark content, so beware!
