Feeling Better Now?

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/42666933.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: SPY x FAMILY (Manga), SPY x FAMILY (Anime)
Relationship: Damian Desmond/Anya Forger
Character: Damian Desmond, Anya Forger
Additional Tags: Smut, there's some plot, TWO IDIOTS, two horny idiots, Aged up-
university age, Shower Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Flirting, Teasing,
Platonic showering turns non platonic, Was it platonic to start?
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2022-10-27 Words: 7603

Feeling Better Now?

by Ember_Lee

Summary

After having been caught in the storm, all Damian wants to do is relax and enjoy a hot
shower. But what's this? Someone else's wandering hands? Is this a realistic fantasy, or was
Anya actually jumping in with him right now.

Notes

*awkward shuffle*
Hello.
I wrote smut.
A whole, non poetic 14 pages of smut
All inspired by a tweet. This tweet
https://twitter.com/ao3tagsbot/status/1584122527940370432?
t=F4Khm5sswfxafp8tAdJgow&s=19
This is for my friends in the discord. You know who you are. I hope you enjoy!

His key wouldn’t fit in the lock.

Annoyed already by the sudden down fall, Damian gritted his chattering teeth and tried slotting it
in again. The metal scrapped against the edge uselessly and he growled in annoyance. His fingers
were beginning to go numb, from balancing the grocery bags in one hand, the other clumsily trying
to navigate the stubborn lock. The stoop barely covered him, cold drops of water trickling down
from its eaves onto his exposed neck, making him squirm in discomfort as it ran under his collar.
All he wanted was to get inside, and hop in a warm shower, to ignore everything for the rest of the
afternoon.

Thunder rolled across the sky just as the key finally went in, and he swore loudly in relief as he
scampered inside. Closing the door behind him with a sigh, he leant against it for a moment, with
closed eyes. The run home had winded him, and he felt far too tried to be capable of anything else.

“I’m home.” He called out blearily, letting the groceries drop at his feet. The silence of the dark
apartment was all that greeted him in turn, and he shrugged as he realised Anya hadn’t been joking
when she mentioned going to the library today. Who would have known.

A pool of water was spilling out of his shoes, trailing across the floor when he kicked them off. His
sodden flannel shirt and pants came next, making horrible squelching sounds as they separated
from his skin. Shivering he deposited them in a small pile, before reaching down to for his socks.
Wet socks were the worst feeling ever, in his opinion, and his nose crinkled in disgust as he pulled
them off his cold toes. Honestly, it was still meant to be summer, why the hell was it so fuckin
cold?

Half-naked, he bundled his dirty clothing together and walked over to the laundry, chucking them
into the awaiting washer without much delay. He considered putting on the load now, but decided
a to wait until after his shower. Taking the old towel of the hook back out with him to the entry
way, he cleared up the excess water, not wanting Anya to slip when she finally got home, before
moving the groceries to the kitchen. Again, those could wait as nothing was going to melt in this
weather, and he dashed upstairs as to finally get warm.

The bathroom was just as he had left it this morning; covered in Anya’s crap. Standing in the
doorway he sighed in annoyance, wondering when her apartment was going to be functional again.
Letting her stay here while it was being refurbished had seemed simple two months ago, but now
as university began again and she commandeered more and more of his space, Damian was itching
for some solace. He didn’t mind her presence, or insistent chatter, but he just wanted the ability to
stand at his vanity and brush his teeth without having to question the powder rouge stains around
the sink edge, or why she had spilled half her cosmetic bag across the floor. He kicked her mascara
aside, watching as it rolled under the cabinet with a petty smirk, knowing that it’d take her hours to
find it. Serves her right. Maybe she’d leave the bathroom door open and he’d be able to watch her
desperate search, smug in his nonsensical victory as he did nothing to help her look.

Maybe she’d be wearing those cute sleep shorts she favoured, the pink threads so faded and
thinned that they barely covered her pert little butt.

Yeah, he’d definitely watch that.

The shower hissed on as soon as he turned the tap, the water pressure tampered from his usual
setting. Twisting the head with a grumble, he eased it back from its vigorous massage to the
soothing rainfall he preferred, wincing as the head lolled forward on its long cable. As the water
heated up, he finished getting undressed, and set out a fresh towel on the closed toilet for after.
Some new pop song crooned out of the portable radio when he turned it on, and Damian titled his
head to listen to it for a moment, trying to decide if he liked it. The singer was familiar. That
British band with the high-pitched voices. It wasn’t bad, if not a little repetitive. The tune was
decent he supposed. Either way, he turned the volume down a little so he could just enjoy it as
background noise, glad Anya wasn’t here to tease him again about his shower soundtrack routine.

It added to the atmosphere! So, sue him!

Slipping into the water stream was utter bliss, his whole body relaxing with an audible sigh. The
storm could rage outside for all he cared; he was going to stay right here in this misty cocoon for as
long as he wanted. The heated pressure on his tight neck and shoulders was glorious, and he slowly
leaned back into the flow to ease the ache in relief. All summer he had been translating those old
passages, spending hours sprawled over his writing desk just trying to read the fine print. Looking
at his hands now, he realised there was still ink staining his palms despite how much he had
scrubbed them, and he was sure it was smudged on his nose from often he rubbed it. Picking up the
soap he tried to clean them again, but he only managed to create a grey layer of suds across his
skin.

Grumbling, he rinsed them off, before stepping back further to allow the water to cascade through
his curls. It trickled over the indentations along his ears from his glasses, soothing them with its
gentle sting. Damian closed his eyes and imagined he was anywhere else than his small apartment,
that he had somehow found a natural hot spring, high in the mountains where no one could bother
him. His body would be deliciously warm as the cold drizzle pattered against his face, the steam
encasing him in its protective barrier.

The evening air was filled with faint bird song in the trees, crying over the slowly falling rain. He
could feel the tickle of a fern frond against his arm, damp from the weather and the steam
surrounding him. The rough stone against his back helped release his pain, and he leaned backed
into its embrace with a delighted groan.

Closing his eyes, Damian breathed in a deep lungful of the pure mountain air. This was utter
peace, he decided. Nothing could make this better.

Though, something else was tickling at his arm. Light and feathery, it crept its way down to his
elbow before brushing along the underside of his ribs and across to his back. A hand, small
against his shoulder blade, began kneading at the coiled muscle there as warm breath traced along
his ear.

“You okay? You seem tense.” The words were like honey, sweet in their pronunciation, sticking to
his skin in the humid air. Someone was lowering themselves into the spring beside him, their warm
body pressing gently against his. Deciding to crack open an eye, Damian found himself looking
into playful green, her chin resting lightly on his shoulder. Her hand was still massaging his back,
the other somewhere else in the dark water. Catching his gaze, she smiled, shifting closer to him so
he could feel her wet curves, hinder by thin fabric of what she dared to call pyjamas. Honestly, they
were a glorified layer of skin at this point, so translucent and water logged, she’d be better off
removing them.

And he was kind.

He could help with that.

“Sy-on, I’m not uncomfortable, you are. Here, I’ll help you with the pain.”

The other hand had appeared, slowly creeping along his lower stomach down to his thigh, fingers
teasing a prickled trail of flesh as they went.

“Just let me help you for once.” She whispered, nibbling at his ear lobe gently as her damp pink
strands fell against his neck. “I’ll be gentle, promise.”
The hand was close to his groin, inching its way across, more and more, until her fingers brushed
against the fine layer of hair that trailed there. He released a pent-up sigh when she finally
reached him, her chuckle sinful as she tightened her hold.

“Somone seems-”

“Ayyyyye, where the fuck did that storm come from?!”

Damian squealed in surprise, eyes snapping open as the bathroom door swung open harshly,
ricocheting off the wall. A cold draft of air hit him over the shower curtain, and he shuddered in
the warm water, hand slipping from his shaft.

“I was stuck outside the library for ages trying to hail a taxi, but they all zoomed past me, trying to
avoid the evening traffic. What dicks! I ended up sprinting towards the subway, but I was wearing
those old converses you hate, so I slipped on my ass down the steps. You would have laughed so
hard Damian. I slid down those stairs like a cartoon character; arms failing, books going
everywhere, jittering away with each bounce. The rain absolutely soaked me then, and I squelched
into the station like a drowned rat. Some guy tried to offer me his umbrella, but I think my stare of
disbelief made him think twice. Honestly, some people just don’t think, you know?”

His heart was racing, as he stared at her silhouette on the other side of the curtain, no quite
believing she was out there ranting. Didn’t he lock the door? Fuck, he forgot to lock the door. But
he thought she wouldn’t be home for a while. She wasn’t meant to be home!

“Anya! What the hell are you doing?” He finally squawked, interrupting her tirade about walking
the last few blocks home in the rain. Her figure paused; head titled in obvious confusion as her
arms dropped to the sides.

“Telling you about my horrific journey home? Seriously, why don’t you have someone like Jeeves
anymore? They would have been perfect on a day like today.”

“Same reason I have this slightly shitty apartment, in the same random city far from home.” He
snapped back, pulling the curtain back so he could poke his head out. “No, I meant what are you
doing in here? I’m in the shower!”

“Well clearly. And I bet you’re hogging all the hot water again.”

“I am not!”

“Tell that to how much steam is in this room. You can barely see!”

Her words made him look at her properly, and he felt his knees shake at the sight of her. Fuck, the
rain had got her good, for it had crept into every fibre of her yellow summer dress, making it cling
to her small frame in ways that should be outlawed. Given the humidity of the room, her hair was
starting to frizz a bit, the baby hairs around her face beginning to return to their joyful curls. And
she had gone out like that? Did she at least take a coat?

"Wish I had taken a coat with me. Should have known the fine weather was going to disappear
when the sky looked too blue." She sighed as if reading his mind, looking down at her appearance
with a frown. "Oh well. What's done is done."

She gripped the ends of her dress, tugging the wet material up and over her head with a grunt.
Damian blinked at the sudden movement, unable to full process what she was doing. Realization
hit at the same time the wet clothing met floor, his jaw falling with it as she turned back towards
him with a grin.
Hurriedly he ducked back behind the curtain, face burning red in shock, as he gasped, "You're not
wearing underwear!"

"What? I am too! They're cute ones as well. Becky got them for me. They have these cute little
flowers on them, see? Oh, well, they're pretty wet so you can't really tell, but they're blue!"

Damian squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to picture what was already so clear in his head. Dear
lord, that was going to fuel his imagination for years to come.

“That’s not what I meant.” He gritted out, trying hard not to touch his awkward erection. He heard
her shuffle by the sink, looking for something in her mess probably before she replied.

“Oh, my bra? Nah, didn’t go with the look. And my boobs are small enough to get away with it, so
I just left it at home. It’s so freeing not having to wear one, ya know. We should all go braless more
often.”

He groaned at the mental image, clenching the shower curtain against his fingers. Her breasts,
small like the rest of her but comparable to the size of a large apple. Her flesh was currently as rosy
as the gala apples currently in the fruit bowl in the kitchen, that fit perfectly in his hands. He was
sure that if he bit into this flesh though, he would elicit the sound of crisp moan instead of a
delightful crunch. God, he was drooling at the mere thought.

“Anyway, scoot over. I’m freezing and I rather not catch a cold.”

He startled as she ripped the curtain to the side, slipping into the shower stall beside him. She had
taken off her underwear while he was daydreaming, and now stood before him utterly bare and
shivering. Her pale skin was riveted with goosebumps, and he had just enough brain power to feel
concerned for how long exactly she had been in the freezing weather. But words of worry couldn’t
escape his lips, replaced only by his pure confusion instead.

“Why are you in here!?”

“I told you, you’re gonna hog all the hot water, and I’m going to freeze to death! Now move so I
can relax too!”

“I’m not hogging it and you can wait your turn!” He whined, wincing as her frosty hands pushed
him aside so she could step under the stream of water. Stumbling back, he watched as she titled her
head into the shower, sighing in relief as the warmth washed over her. The water ran down her skin
in teasing rivulets, and his tongue grew heavy in his mouth, aching to follow them.

“Couldn’t wait. If you had a bathtub, I would have filled that. Besides, what’s the problem? I’ve
seen you naked before. You’ve seen me. Remember that skinny dipping dare three summers ago?
Nothing has changed since then.”

Yes, he did remember. But it had been dark, and the sky moonless. He also remembered Becky’s
jeering cat calls as he sprinted down the dock, splinters in his feet as he tried to ignore how bloody
cold it had been. Anya’s hand in his had been the only warmth he had experienced that night, her
bubbly laugh filling his veins as they resurfaced after jumping into the frigid lake. Ewen and Emile
had teased him for months afterwards, as he had been unable to hide his sudden boners when the
mere memory flited across his mind.

“It’s not that, it’s just....” Damian stuttered, an embarrassed flush creeping across his chest as he
stared at the tile above her head, struggling to hide his arousal now. He felt like a pubescent boy
again, not at all his grown age of twenty-two.
“What’s wrong? We use to share showers after swimming all the time.”

“Yeah, after swimming. At the beach. Where we all had to wear togs.”

“I can put my underwear back on if that’s what’s bothering you?” Anya suggested, looking at him
with a slightly frown. “I just thought this seemed more logical.”

“No, it’s okay. Don’t worry about that.” Damian sighed, rubbing at his face in defeat. Burning
shame was filtering through him, and he decided that it was time to be a gentleman before he got
hurt. “Look, I’ll just step out. You obviously need to warm up more than I do, and I can take one
later when the water is reheated. Besides, I left some groceries on the counter that need to be put
away.”

He moved to step out of the shower, planning on making a mad dash to his room to beat off in
silence. But Anya’s small hand wrapping around his wrist stopped that, and he looked towards her
in surprise as her frown deepened.

“No, don’t do that. We’d be wasting water otherwise. Just stay here and share with me. I’m sorry
for interrupting, I just thought you wouldn’t mind. I guess I overstepped. Sorry.”

She was overstepping, but she had a point. His water bill was rather high last month, caused only
by his frequent need to shower, warm or cold, the longer she stayed here with him. He had been
getting away with the increased trips with how disgustingly hot the weather had been, but he
should have realised it’d come back to bite him. Her fingers tugged on his skin gently, pulling him
back towards her.

“Come on, I’ll even wash your hair for you. I learnt how to do scalp massages from Ma last trip
home. I can give you one if you want?”

He was already putty in her hands. What was a little more?

“Okay.” Damian sighed, letting her win despite his internal screaming. “Just don’t get soap in my
eyes like last time.”

“I’ll be careful.” She giggled, directing him under the stream again to warm up his cooling skin.
“Though you can’t really blame me for that. You moved, causing the hair dye to run into your
face. I wasn’t tall enough to see the soap suds on top of your head.”

“But you were still blind enough not to see them on your hands when you wiped my face.”

“Honest mistake! Seriously, Ewen should have just let us use the sink to wash out your hair, not
insisted we hop in the shower. If he was going to be so precious about guarding that marble
atrocity, he should have helped you rinse instead.”

Damian decided to keep quiet about when they redid his roots, and all the black dye that had
stained the white marble in its course.

“Besides, I’ve grown since then! I don’t have to stand on my tippy toes anymore, see?”

He couldn’t see, but he could feel. His imagined scenario from earlier started coming back to him,
enhanced by how soft she felt against his side, her skin still cool to touch. Stepping forward he
pushed her behind him, letting her warm up under the water flow instead. At her surprised hum he
simply shrugged.

“Easier for you to wash my hair this way.”

He willed his blush to die down at her chuckle, instead focusing on the way she gently threaded
her fingers through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp lightly. Ohhh, that was utter bliss. He
closed his eyes with a sigh, relaxing into her reach willingly.

“Nice, isn’t it? When Ma gave me a massage, I nearly fell asleep. I drooled all over the couch
cushion though, and Papa teased me about it for a week.” Anya giggled, pausing briefly to lather
some shampoo in her hands. It didn’t smell like sandalwood, instead it reminded him of his
favourite cinnamon drink, and he inhaled it with a ragged breath. Her fingers were like magic
against his scalp, digging in against his curls with care, scratching at the drier parts with enough
pressure to sooth the itch. He let his head fall back into her palms, uncaring that only part of the
water was hitting him around her. One of them had moved closer to the other, who he wasn’t really
sure, as he could feel her breasts against his back lightly, her nipples hard on his skin.

They were quite for a while, the silence filled by whatever happy tune was floating out of the radio
and the steady sound of the shower. Anya hummed along to the chorus under her breath, leaning
into him further so she could reach the top of his scalp. One of her hands slipped down to his
shoulder to steady herself, and he groaned at how her fingers squeezed around the tense flesh.

“You okay? You seem tense.”

“Yeah, just work. I was up late working on those books for Mr Hewitts.” Damian murmured, as
she rubbed at his shoulder gingerly. “He wanted them done by tomorrow evening, but there’s one
paragraph that’s impossible to read, and I’m having trouble with it.”

“Can I help? Maybe a fresh pair of eyes will solve it?”

He wanted to hum a yes of agreement, but it came out more of a moan in delight as her knuckles
dug into a particularly tight spot.

“Oh. Maybe you need more help than I thought.” Something about her tone made him wary, and
his eyes snapped open as her hands slipped lower. “Here Sy-on, I’ll help with the pain.”

Damian was frozen as her hands trailed over his back, massaging the tight muscles carefully.
Memories from earlier were popping up, and he struggled not to squirm as his arousal began to
make itself known again. Fuck, just when he had gotten it down as well. It was like it was tied to a
piece of string, the other end wrapped around her little finger. One little tug and poof, there it was,
tall and at attention. Anya giggled into his shoulder blade, her nose pressed into the skin as her
hands crept around to his front.

“Always soooo tense Sy-on boy. I don’t see that stick you usually have up your ass, so what’s
wrong? Want to tell me?”

Words couldn’t escape, only little squeaks as her fingers danced along his ribs. He tried thinking of
anything other than the burning desire she was stirring up inside him, but it was impossibly hard as
her adventuring hands got lower. He swore he could feel her smirk against his skin.

“Did I ever tell you how thankful I am that you let me stay here these last few months? Even
refusing to let me help pay the rent despite the fact I worked the summer? I’ve barely had to lift a
finger around here, and that treatment kinda spoils a girl.”

Oh, those lips were definitely kissing his shoulder now; light and fluttery in their path towards his
neck.

“I’ve never been spoilt like that before. So, I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate it. But
you’ve been awfully busy, it’s been difficult to do.” He had been busy. Preparing for university
while finishing up his summer job list had drained him. Add on Anya’s chaotic nature and the
relentless need to be on high alert for her schemes, he didn’t feel like he had breathed all summer.
And now as her hand slipped down to his hip, the other cupping him with a gentle squeeze, he
wondered if he had died unknowingly. Cause there was no way this was happening right now.

“Anya.” He managed to wheeze as she kissed the hollow of his neck tenderly, hands holding him
against her carefully. “What-”

“Let me help you for once.” She whispered in his ear, and he buckled against her in disbelief. “I’ll
be gentle, I promise.”

Her hand was rough against his skin, her callouses from fighting and lifting scrapping against him
pleasantly. Her thumb was deft as it flicked over his tip, rubbing the already gathered precum into
the surface with ease. With a few languid strokes, she continued to kiss his neck and shoulders,
before firming her grip and pumping him a little quicker.

Damian groaned loudly, not bothering to hide how turned he was anymore. It was obvious, and he
relished in every inch of skin she touched, whether it was with her hands, lips or body as she
continued to jerk him off. He had to grab onto the curtain rail to steady himself, the other bracing
against the cool tile as she held him up from behind. God, when had she developed such lean
muscles? If his knees weren’t weak already, they’d be knocking together now with how her bicep
was curled around him. He watched through the steam as her hand moved back and forth along
him, lavender fingernails a pretty contrast to the pulsing purple around his tip.

“Tell me Sy-on, does this feel good? Or do you want me to do something else?” She murmured,
just as she twisted her hand to pull at his foreskin a bit, earning a guttural sound from him.

“T-that.” He moaned, “A little harder.” And she obliged willingly. Her teeth were nipping at his
skin now, her other hand pinching at his hip before trailing up his abdomen to his chest. She
played with the hair he had been so proud of when they had been teens, but now made him self-
conscious as it was so dark and thick. Her fingers sunk into it as she pumped him a little harder,
murmuring praise into his skin.

“Your hair makes you look so handsome. Whether on your head or your chest.” She whispered as
if knowing of his discomfort. “The girls in school use to swoon whenever you went topless. I was
just as bad as them, though I pretended not to be.”

Will God damn, she was stroking his ego too. How the little grin on his face managed to slip
through he wasn’t sure, as she quickly chased it back into a pleasured gasp as she pinched at his
nipple. Her hand was slipping along him quickly now, one finger trailing along the underside of
his erection to hit the bundle of nerves he liked to stimulate. How was she so good at this? Please
don’t tell him it was from practice. And how did she know just what he liked? Had she, watched
him? Damian wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t complaining, just enjoying everything about this moment.
He would figure it out later, as thought processing was becoming too much to bear the closer she
brought him to the edge.

He rutted into her hand helplessly, unintelligible words spilling from his lips as she worked him.
Her spare hand was still fluttering all over his body, caressing every inch of him until it meandered
down to join its twin. Those same lavender nails teased circles against his groin, occasionally
playing with his balls as she squeezed at his shaft, before returning to tracing patterns on his skin.
Damian knew he was close, hands turning white as he braced himself more firmly, but his release
was still unexpected when she rubbed that nerve under his head, while also trailing a finger along
the middle of his balls.
“ANya!”

Cum splattered all over the other wall, painting the tile and her hands with its sticky warmth. Anya
just continued to pump him gently, cradling his panting body to her chest as she pressed lazy kisses
to his shoulder. The shower spray washed away what it could reach, and he was left staring as it
dribbled down through the grout and water in shock.

“Feeling better now?”

Damian turned around to look at her, eyes wide as realisation on what had just happened washed
over him. Anya held his gaze, bringing her hands up to wash them under the spray behind her.

“Why did you?” He couldn’t finish his sentence; brain still mush after what had to be the best
experience of his life. Anya shrugged, squirting some of her body lotion in her palms.

“Why not? Like I said, you’ve helped me out so much this summer, so I wanted to thank you.”

“By giving me a hand job?” Damian asked incredulously, watching as she began to blush.

“Well, I figured it was the least I could offer.” She trailed off, looking shy. “Was it bad?”

“What? No! Hell, it was great! But, Anya...” He pinched at his brow in frustration, wanting to put
to words what his brain was trying to formulate. “Why did you think a sex act was the best way to
repay me?”

“Cause you wouldn’t take my money, and my cooking is subpar. So, the books suggested-”

“Please don’t tell me you took advice from one of those 1940s home guide books mother told you
about.” Damian interrupted, already knowing the answer. He groaned at her guilty smile and
brushed her hair off her forehead tenderly. “Jesus Christ Anya, I thought I told you to ignore her.”

“I did! For the most part. But I got curious.” She said, the blush reddening along her cheeks as she
refused to meet his eye. “And also...I was a little... frustrated. You kept giving me these looks, or
touching me for longer than usual, and I just wanted you to...”

The little shrug she finished with made his heart race.

No way.

There’s no way she...

Damian had never been good at expressing how he felt. Whether with words or in action. But he
was about to blow that all aside right now, if he was picking up on what she was trying to say
correctly.

“You felt frustrated?” He asked in a low voice, stepping closer to her while cupping her cheek in
his palm. “Because I was touching you?”

Anya’s breath caught in her throat, and she stared up at him wide eyed. Damian crowded over her,
pleasing in how her hands came up to brace herself against his chest, as his other hand tugged on
her hip. Gone was the confident minx that had slipped into his shower, replaced with a trembling
beauty whose blush was slowly seeping down her cheeks and neck.

“Y-yes.”

“And you felt bad because I was helping you all summer without expecting anything in return?”
No words this time, just a little nod. He grinned, nuzzling his nose against hers gently.

“But you’re my guest.” He murmured, noticing the trail of goosebumps reappearing on her arms as
he did. Delighted he squeezed at her waist gently. “If you’re feeling frustrated, let me help you. I’d
do anything to help you. Always have, always will, Anya.”

“Oh.”

It was the cutest squeak he had ever heard, and he had to hide his grin against her neck as he turned
her around. Arms cradling her to his chest, he mimicked what she had done to him just moments
before.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” He asked, hand ghosting over her thigh as she quivered,
“Or should I leave you in peace to enjoy the last of the hot water, in the same way you’ve been
doing all summer?”

She made some kind of whimper and he rocked against her gently, earning a louder one.

“What is it Anya? You’ve gotta let me know.”

Anya muttered something under her breath, in a language he wasn’t familiar with, before finally
uttering a drawn out yesss when his thumb circled her nipple. Grinning into her hair, Damian
slipped his hand into the apex of her groin, cupping her gently before kissing her cheek lightly.

“Thank you, pretty girl, for telling me. I’ll help you now.”

She was so warm against his fingers, wet from the shower and how frustrated she was, making it
easy to slide against her folds. She cursed again, leaning forward to rest against the back wall, the
shower stream racing down the back of her head and into his face as she did. He didn’t care that he
was being waterboarded at the moment, choosing to focus on the little sounds of pleasure Anya
was emitting between her swears. He rested a leg between hers to give her some stability, before
moving his other hand to cradle her breast. It filled his palm just like he thought, but felt heavier
than he had been expecting. He kissed the side of her neck lovingly, flicking her clit as he did.

“You poor thing. You’ve been carrying this weight around the whole time, and said nothing about
the back pain? Other girls have got nothing on you.”

Anya groaned as he palmed her, paying extra attention to her swollen nipples. She was grinding
against his leg a little and he bucked it in response earning a heady gasp. Deciding that he had
teased her enough, he inserted a couple of fingers into her as he bit into her shoulder.

“Damian.”

This was truly not how he had imagined his afternoon going. It felt like some kind of fever dream
to be honest, and Damian wondered if he had gotten sick in his run home. Hearing her splutter out
his name through her little moans of pleasure was maddening, and he ground into her ass
reflexively as she pushed back, delighting in the way his shaft slid against her cheeks. She was so
tight around his fingers, and high school fantasies of her riding him came flooding back. Putting
some more speed into his pace, Damian lavished her with more bruising kisses as she ground
against his hand. The angle was a little awkward, and while he was doing the best he could with it,
he noticed one of her hands trailing down to help. Growling he flipped her around, pressing her
whole body against the wall and pinning her in place. Anya blinked at him in shock, hands held
above her head by both of his, his knee slowly rubbing her instead.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Damian demanded, as she stared up at him, mouth a gape.
“I-I just.”

“No.” He sneered, watching as she gulped under his gaze. “You’re my guest. You shouldn’t need
to lift a finger to help, remember? Let me do all the work.”

Her eyes were blown wide, and he wondered if it’d be alright to kiss her properly. It amused him
for a moment, considering everything they had done/been doing until now, and he decided to lay a
kiss at the edge of her mouth instead, trailing his lips down to her pulse point slowly. The sounds
she was trying to hold back was adorable, and he gently replaced his knee with his fingers again,
loving how she shuddered as they entered.

“See, I’ve got you.”

From this angle, it was easier to move, and he curled his fingers against her with every thrust,
watching as she slid down the wall slowly with each movement. Her eyes were half lidded, as she
struggled to keep them open to watch him, squeezing them shut each time he peppered a kiss along
her skin. He rather enjoyed that, a simple act that made her look so light headed, so with every hard
pump of his hand, he counteracted that with a butterfly’s grace of his lips to her neck or chest.

He could feel her knees knocking against his, her feet starting to slip on the wet floor, and he
moved closer to hold her place. She wasn’t swearing anymore, eyes fully closed as she bucked
against him, needy gasps echoing in the shower stall. She was close, hands trying to grasp onto
something above her head so he threaded his fingers through hers and held her up. Running his
nose along the side of her face, he murmured in her ear, “Relax pretty girl, I got you.”

Anya gasped, and he circled her clit a few more times with his thumb, kissing the spot below her
ear as she came. He could feel how her walls clenched around his finger desperately, vaguely
aware of how his lower half twitched as he soaked in how she looked after an orgasm. Pretty girl
indeed. She was absolutely stunning in the low light, mouth puckered in a soundless ‘o’. Damian
knew he’d never get enough of that, the greedy need to see it again building inside him. He let her
slide down onto his leg again once she was finished, her arms falling helplessly at her sides as he
slowly withdrew his hands. Anya’s chest heaved against him, and he grinned as she eventually
came back to earth, glaring at him in disbelief.

“You did not just-”

“Oh, but I think I did.” He sang, “And you liked it. Didn’t peg you to be the submissive type.”

“I’m not. You just caught me by surprise is all.” She glowered but he just laughed.

“Turnabout is fair you little wench.” He murmured layering more kisses along her cheeks “And
I’m all about being fair.”

“Wench hmm? What, no more pretty girl?” She whispered as his lips trailed close to hers, the
curve of her smile slotting against his skin easily. “I rather liked that part.”

Damian paused, watching as her smile grew at his quirked eyebrow. Her hands wandered up his
body, squeezing at his upper arms before circling around his neck carelessly. His had settled on her
hips, fingers smoothing against her curves. He was happy like this, whatever it may be. But there
was a certain fire in her eyes that only came about when she was challenging him, and he always
fell into trouble when he saw it. She nudged her nose against his, transferring a few droplets of
water as she did.

“The warm water isn’t helping me with this ache I have from the cold. Can you think of anything
to help ease it?”

Her words sent a shivering roll through his body, accented by the way she stretched in his hold,
leaning back against the tiles with her arms held above her head once again. Mischief quirked at
her lips, and he quickly stepped in to silence it.

The groan of delight as his fingers wound back through hers was echoed by the way she arched
into his chest, lips meeting for the first time in a hungry kiss. Had she been planning this from
when she first barged into the bathroom, he wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t about to miss the
opportunity now. Her mouth was hot against his, tongue already demanding entrance to embrace
his with its blackberry laced flavour. He melded against her easily, his free hand coming around to
cup at her backside, lifting one leg to wrap around his waist. She was warm against his throbbing
erection, and he nudged it against her opening teasingly along with his knee. The whine that she
released into his mouth was a god send, and he squeezed her hands tightly as he settled her against
the wall a little more firmly.

“I should be a good host and ask if you want protection.” He gasped, breaking off their kiss as he
lined up against her entrance.

“And I’m delighted that you’d offer that, but I’ll take what you have available right now.” She
breathed, jerking forward so that his tip pushed into her. Their heads bowed together at the feeling,
low groans of pleasure spilling from their lips. Anya dug her heel into his backside, drawing him
further into her as he resumed their kiss, sinking all the way to the hilt with ease.

If he had liked the way she had felt around his fingers, it was nothing in comparison to the way she
surrounded him now. Damian felt his eyes roll slightly behind his closed eyelids, as her walls
fluttered slightly around his shaft. Pulling away from her kiss, he buried his head into her neck with
a groan, rocking against her involuntary as he did. Anya arched into him again, a breathy moan
dancing into his ear.

“More, Damian. Please, move some more.”

He was a good host. He’d respect her wishes.

Pulling back, he snapped his hips into her again, earning a strangled sound as he did. Her breasts
slid against his chest, and he marvelled at the feel of her athletic frame against his as she tightened
her leg around his waist. Damian began descending kisses against the same trail as before, moving
lower as he lifted her higher, thrusting into her lazily as he did. Her fingers were tight around his
hand, her body moving in time with his, low sounds escaping her parted lips each time. The valley
of her breasts was heaven sent, and he took his time licking and sucking the hidden freckles there
as she bucked against him.

“Damian. Oh lord, Dam-ian.” She sighed, his name like praise as his tongue curled around her
nipple. She was on her tip toes, trying to keep steady on her outstretched leg, and he released her
hands to scoop her up properly, pulling her sharply against his pelvis as he did so. The cry of
delight she made had him holding her there for a fraction longer, before he pulled back to slam into
her again.

The bottles of shampoo and conditioner were rattled on the shelf next to him as he began a faster
pace, making sure to bury as deep into her with each thrust, encouraged with how her hands
scrabbled at his shoulders and head. Her lips didn’t keep still, either mouthing his name against his
skin with every frantic kiss, or singing those moans of ecstasy whenever he hit a particularly good
spot. His own mouth was searing his brand against her chest wherever it could reach, before
returning to muffle her praise when he got too greedy for it.
Her heels were crossed against his lower spine, holding him close as he shifted them against the
wall, taking care not to slip against the slippery floor. He was not about to get a concussion right
now and forget what was considerably the best sex of his life. He wanted to remember every little
movement and sound Anya was making, so he could pull them from her again the next time they
fucked.

Seems like she was trying to memorise his responses as well, for her hands were groping
everything they could reach, those pretty nails scrapping up his back and neck as she attacked his
lips with renewed ferocity.

“Damian, Damian, Damian. Oh, I’m-”

She was close again, breathing his name in her quick exhales as he quickened his thrusts, eager to
feel her release around him. He still had a fair way to go, but he wouldn’t complain if she wanted to
stop after this. Gathering her in the crook of his right arm again, he reached up to cushion her head
against the wet tile as he pinned her against the wall, hammering into her relentlessly. She cried out
a few seconds later, hands gripping onto his shoulders as she came hard. Her orgasm nearly
brought him to the edge as well, but he gritted his teeth and let her have this moment.

“Fuck, Damian...that was.” She gasped when she finally caught her breath and he grinned as he
kissed her lightly.

“Feeling better now?” He asked, repeating her words from earlier, still thrusting lazily into her as
they panted. She wriggled against him, still sensitive from her orgasms. But whatever she was
about to say next was interrupted as the shower spluttered above them, the hot water suddenly
going cold.

Shrieking the two quickly pulled away from the torrent of cold water, the icy chill reminding them
of where they were located. Damian hurriedly dropped Anya to her feet, as she fumbled for the tap
beside her. The water shut off immediately when she twisted it to the side, and they stood there in
the remnants of their dirty shower, struggling to breath. The radio was still playing into the fog
behind the curtain, and they looked at each other as an upbeat pop song chorused in the air.

Wet, dishevelled and glowing red, they looked a wrinkled mess, but neither could hide the pleased
grins spreading across their faces. Bowing his head to lean his forehead against hers, Damian
murmured, “Well, that was not how I expected this afternoon to go.”

“Storms are a delightful surprise after all.” Anya responded in kind, and he chuckled at her words.

“Yes, you are.”

She kissed him slowly at that, circling her arms around his neck again as she stood on her toes to
reach him. He gathered her in close, returning her kiss happily, only to whine as she pulled away to
look down at their lower halves.

“Well, consider me lightning, cause that rod of yours is-”

“Please don’t finish that sentence.” He interrupted, mortified that his erection grew at her cringe
worthy tease. Anya just shot him a devious grin in response before slipping out of his hold and into
the steamy bathroom.

“How about, ‘they say lightning never strikes twice, but you proved that wrong when you-’”

He was chasing after her before she could finish, her peal of laughter echoing off the small room as
she slipped out to the door into the hallway. Steam and light from the bathroom followed after
them into the dark house, nipping at their ankles as they ran into the nearest bedroom. The storm
continued to rage outside as he caught her against the wrinkled duvet cover, smothering her
delighted giggles in a searing kiss as they relaxed into the mattress. It could howl as loudly as it
wanted for all he cared. For the only sounds Damian was interested were the murmurs of affection
spilling from Anya’s lips onto his, as their bodies sank into one another once again, heady sighs
echoing in the still evening air.

Forget about helping her find her mascara later. She was going to need her concealer once he was
done with her.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!