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calif0rnia-lovers · 5 months ago

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safe place.

an: ngl, I wanted to hug jude & bukayo through the screen when England lost😔

requested: I remember seeing that Jude said his mom helps him when he gets "too low with the lows or too high with the highs." Can you do a fic where his gf is that way?

pairing: jude bellingham x black!reader

series: lyrically inspired tales.

if my heart aches, you breathe with me at my pace.

song: safe place by ruthanne

warnings: this is most definitely not edited lol.

The stadium lights had dimmed, and the roar of the crowd had faded into a distant memory, replaced by a haunting silence. Jude Bellingham sat in the quiet of his hotel room, the weight of the Euro final's loss pressing heavily on his shoulders. Exhaustion seeped into his bones—physically, mentally, and emotionally he was tapped. The missed shot that could have changed everything replayed in his mind, a tormenting loop of what-ifs and if-onlys.

He felt utterly drained, each breath a reminder of the effort he had poured into the match. The worst part about losing was feeling like he was at his lowest, despite all the hard work and dedication he had poured in for his country. The memory of the silver medal being draped over his shoulder, the relentless flashes of cameras, and the disappointed faces of fans loomed over him like a dark cloud. He had tried to keep his head up, stopping to hug each of his teammates, whispering words of encouragement, but it still hurt like hell. He had forced a brave face, stifling the sting in his eyes, reassuring his family and friends that he was alright. Keeping up the front until he reached his room had been a monumental task, and now, alone in the dim light, the facade crumbled.

He stared blankly at the wall, the ache of disappointment settling deep within his chest. Hours seemed to drag by, each minute stretching into an eternity. His phone was on Do Not Disturb. Although he knew the messages were meant with the best intentions, Jude wasn’t ready to read the encouraging texts sent to him. He hadn't spoken to anyone since the bus doors closed, needing space to process the defeat alone. The team’s efforts, the dreams of a nation, all seemed to hang on that one moment when his shot had veered just slightly off course.

A knock at the door broke through his reverie. Jude ignored it at first, unwilling to face anyone. If he didn’t call out, whoever it was would go away. But then it came again.

A single knock, followed by three softer knocks, a distinct rhythm that was all too familiar. It was a special knock. Your special knock, a signal that meant more than words ever could. It prompted him to rise from the bed and cross the room.

Your interaction at the stadium was still a blur. A rushed kiss against his lips, nose, and forehead, a whispered “I love you so much,” was all he could receive before he was moving through the line of friends and family. In the few short hours that had passed, you had showered and changed.

When he opened the door, Jude found you standing there with your travel backpack pressed against your chest.

Jude paused to take you in, grounding himself by focusing on your familiar features. It was a routine he had built over the last six months of your relationship, a way to find solace in the midst of chaos. His eyes passed over your smooth, deep brown skin, which seemed to glow softly in the dim light. He traced the contours of your face, from your cheekbones to your lips that carried a gentle, reassuring smile. The sight of it relaxed the furrow of his brow.

Your eyes, warm and filled with understanding, were his favorite feature. They held a depth of emotion and wisdom that made him feel seen and understood. Your lashes framed them perfectly, long and curled, adding to the natural beauty that always took his breath away. His gaze traveled up to the soft curls, pineappled at the top of your head, his hand instinctively reaching forward.

As he studied you, taking in every detail—his touch tracing the curve of your jaw before settling against your cheek—he felt a sense of peace wash over him.

"Hi," you greeted softly, your voice a balm to his battered spirit.

Jude managed a weak smile, the corners of his lips lifting. "Hey," he replied, his voice rough.

You stepped inside, Jude’s hand instinctively settling on your hips as the door closed.

The scent of lavender and chamomile wafted from the bag you carried, filling the room with a calming aroma. It was a scent that lingered on the sheets of each hotel room Jude stayed in, his bedroom at home, and even in his shirts and jerseys. He associated it with you, and only you—a fragrance that instantly brought relaxation and comfort. Whenever you couldn't make it to his games, Jude would find the aromatherapy tucked away in his bag, a thoughtful gesture that made him feel close to you even when apart.

“My flight leaves at 9:30 tomorrow,” you began as you unzipped the bag. Gathering what you needed, you started towards the bathroom. “So, I’ll probably leave here at 7. I’m sure traffic is going to be insane.”

Jude listened to your voice, the calm cadence soothing his frayed nerves. You didn’t expect a response; you knew him well enough to understand that after a loss, he needed time to recover. So, you verbally went through your travel plans. The turnaround was quick, but you needed to report to work. While slightly annoying, the plan was simple: report home, get back to work, and into your routine. Jude would soon follow.

As you focused on starting the bath, Jude began to look through the items you bought. His hand paused on something small and familiar, tucked beneath his favorite snacks—a stuffed lion. He picked it up, a wave of bittersweet memories washing over him. The lion had a soft, golden mane and big, friendly eyes. Stitched into the pad of its right paw was a heart. Jude remembered the day he won it for you at the Ice Palace, the way your face had lit up with joy, your smile so wide and genuine it had made his heart swell.

"My lion," you’d giggled, hugging the plush toy tightly before wrapping your arms around his neck, your laughter ringing in his ears. “I can keep him with me when you’re away.”

You paused in the bathroom doorway, watching him hold the stuffed lion. "That always makes me feel better when we're apart," you said softly, a smile finding your lips as the shared memory hung between the two of you.

You began to take out and explain the things you had brought to cheer him up—a selection of his favorite snacks, your iPad full of movies, and some comforting toiletries. "I brought these because I thought they might help you relax. And I know how much you love Shawshank Redemption. So...being the gracious, loving girlfriend I am, I will sit through it for the hundredth time. But, only if you promise to share your sour st-"

You were mid-sentence when he moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind. For a moment, you stayed that way, the warmth of his embrace speaking louder than words. Jude buried his face in your shoulder, his breath hitching as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to escape.

You could feel the tremors in his body, his grip tightening as if you were his anchor in the storm of his emotions.

"It's okay," you whispered, turning to face him, the warmth of your palms against his cheeks lifting his eyes to yours. "You gave it everything you had, and that's all anyone can ask for. I'm so proud of you, Jude. You’ve come so far, and this is just a moment in your journey. It's okay to feel hurt and disappointed, but remember that you are stronger than this. Everything happens exactly when it's meant to."

Finally, the dam broke, and Jude rested against you, the tears he’d managed to keep at bay all night came pouring out. He remained pressed against you until the stress of the past few months drained his eyes dry. He allowed you to lead him to the bathroom, welcoming the warm, fragrant steam filled the room, creating a cocoon of comfort.

He allowed you to help him undress, your movements tender and deliberate, as if you were peeling away not just his clothes but also the layers of his hurt.

"Let's get you in," you murmured softly, as his lips brushed against yours, guiding him into the tub. Jude eased himself into the warm water, letting out a deep sigh as the heat began to soothe his aching muscles and weary mind.

You stepped back to gather the other things you had brought, but Jude's hand gently traced soothing circles into your thigh as you stood by the tub. The simple touch spoke volumes, a silent plea for your presence, for you to stay close.

Jude leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he let the warmth of the bath wash over him. The exhaustion and frustration that had gripped him began to loosen, replaced by a growing sense of peace. He listened as you moved around the room, lighting a few candles and setting out the items you had brought—a fluffy towel, his favorite shampoo, and a soft robe for when he got out.

You joined Jude in the tub, settling behind him. He welcomed the loofah against his skin, the gentle, rhythmic motion of your hands soothing his frayed nerves. You massaged his shoulders, careful with the one that had been previously injured, as he rested back against you. His hand found its place on his leg, grounding him as he watched the movie playing on the tablet propped nearby.

Your touch worked magic, and you could feel his body gradually relaxing. The tension that had coiled within him slowly unwound, and he seemed to be coming back to himself. The voice in his head, the one that echoed with doubt and personal criticism, grew quieter with each passing moment. Each gentle kiss you pressed against his skin, each laugh you shared from the film, chipped away at the walls of his frustration.

By the time most of the bubbles had dissipated, Jude was completely relaxed. His gratefulness showed in the way he gently squeezed your thigh and the soft kisses he brushed against your knuckles. The warmth of the water, combined with your presence, created a cocoon of comfort and safety.

He tilted his head back slightly, letting it rest against your shoulder, eyes half-closed in contentment. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, fingers tracing small circles on his chest. "You don’t have to," you replied softly. "I’m here, always."

Jude sighed, a deep, contented breath that seemed to release the last of his lingering tension. He turned his head slightly to kiss your forehead, a silent thank you for being his anchor in the storm. The doubts that had plagued him earlier were now a distant memory.

The kiss he left against your lips was soft, almost sloppy. The physical and mental strain he's been under from Real Madrid and the Euros suddenly registering. His body begging for sleep.

"Let's get you outta here," you giggled. "I don't think I can carry you to bed if you fall asleep."

You press against the corner of his mouth, the action stopping the closing of his heavy eyelids. "Come on, Jude."

"Mmm...hold up..." Jude mumbled, eyes drifting shut as your lips brushed against his. Brow arching, his smirk prompting your eyes to roll. "...I'm not even tired."

"Uh-huh," stifling your giggle, you watch as Jude nods. His heavy eyes blinking before dropping down to your smile.

"'m not," he mumbled, his kiss missing your lips and settling on your chin.

A series of soft and light kiss lingered against your jaw, drifting to your shoulder. As much as he tried to fight off the comfortable sleeping tugging at him, Jude couldn't resist. By the time he reached your lips, a tired and goofy smile stretched across Jude's lips.

"Alright," he relented. "Let's go, but we gonna finish this in the morning."

"I'm sure we will," you smiled.

You place a final kiss against his lips. The brushing of your nose against his pulling out the smile that left you the victim of constant butterflies and euphoria. Before Jude knew it, the words slipped out.

"I love you," he murmured, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate promise. "Thanks for this."

The words halted your movement of slipping from beneath him, your eyes widening slightly in surprise. It was the first time he had said it aloud. You had never pressured him for those words, knowing that he showed his love in countless other ways. Just as you did for him.

"I love you too, Jude," you replied as his lips found your forehead.

Letting his lips pass over your nose, Jude pushed himself.

#the mobile app posted this while i was reviewing it in my drafts #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x black reader #jude bellingham x black!reader #black!reader #jude bellingham fic

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soapsbaby · 1 year ago

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Bunch of Deviants II

Summary: Second part of me assigning a k!nk to each of the 141 + Alejandro, Rudy, Graves, König and Valeria that I could imagine them having. You can find part one here. Enjoy!

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Phillip Graves, Alejandro Vargas, Rudy Parras, Valeria Garza, all x reader

Rating: NSFW (minors DNI)

Warnings: Choking, Primal Kink, Free Use, Degradation

Word Count: 1.3k-ish

Ghost - Primal

He loves the thrill of hunting you down. Even though you of course know that it's just him, the panic you feel when he catches you is genuine. The way he towers over you, eyes cold except for the sense of victory in them that he caught you and that you are now his to deal with whatever he wants to.

Usually he just takes you right where he catches you, ripping your clothes from your body and fucking you, pinning you down and just holding you in whichever position he needs you in.

He will be so humiliating and degrading, oh, you should run faster next time, are you actually enjoying this? you really are a needy little slut.

After he has come and you are all fucked out he will hold you, just pressing you to his chest until your heartbeat returns to a normal pace.

Soap - Receiving Nudes at Work

He loves when you rile him up through the entire day, sending him pictures, videos or voice messages, telling him how badly you want him, how you need him, how you've been touching yourself all day but it just doesn't compare to when he does it.

He won't be able to think straight until he's finally back home with you and gets to actually fuck you, working off the frustration you put him through.

Usually he just has to get himself off as quickly as possible, fucking you desperately, but he isn't done just because he came. Usually he'll take his time afterwards to eat you out for as long as you can take.

He also makes sure to save all of the messages so he can go through them later, especially on long missions with bad internet reception where it is all he can use to get himself off.

Price - Watching you Touch yourself

He loves watching you touch yourself for him. It started once when he walked in on you and instead of joining in, he just sat down on the foot of the bed, telling you to keep going even though your first reaction was to cover yourself with your blanket.

He loves the way he can read your body, can tell when you are getting closer, those little whines when you push yourself right up to the edge. He knows you too well.

He loves watching you come for him while he strokes himself. You look so beautiful when you do and he takes in every aspect of you, the way your eyelids flutter shut, your legs shaking and your mouth falling open, his name spilling over your lips.

His favorite part is when he finally gets to fuck you for round two, you are so wet after you've come once already and you are so whiny and sensitive.

Gaz - Free Use

Free use goes both ways for you. Especially if you have longer periods of vacation times where you can stay home you will fuck wherever and whenever. Whether it is you walking in while he plays video games and sucking him off while he tries to not let the people on voice chat know or him pushing up your dress while you are working in the kitchen to fuck you from behind, you love being available for each other.

For convenience you both usually don't wear much clothes at home anyways and you also sleep naked.

Of course you both know that you can deny favors to one another if you are not feeling up to it, but neither of you really ever do. Each other's pleasure is enough motivation.

König - Thigh Riding

Having you ride his thigh is one of his favorite things, he loves the way it gives him close to no physical stimulation so he can focus completely on you without any distractions.

He loves the desperation in your eyes when you drag yourself across him, grinding your hips against his leg because it's the only thing he'll let you have if he's feeling strict.

Sometimes, when you are already overstimulated he will grab you by the hips and make you grind down even harder and faster, feasting on your whimpers.

It's one of his favorite ways to make you come, the way your movements stutter and he has to grab you to hold you upright, whispering sweet praise into your ears.

Graves - Pegging

It took him so, so long to admit to you that he wanted you to peg him. He was terrified that you would reject him or even be weirded out by his request. He didn't want to make you feel any different about him.

Of course you didn't, and you both loved it from the first time you tried it out. Everything about his reaction to being fucked refuses to leave your mind, the way his body just seemed to melt into the sheets, legs refusing to support him, hands tangled in the sheets for some form of support.

You have never heard him moan the way he does every time you peg him, his mind just immediately turns into putty and all of his dirty thoughts just spill out, begging for you to go harder.

Will usually be able to come hands free if you take your time with him.

Alejandro - Degradation

He loves you more than anything in the world and he respects and adores you, but there is just something about treating you like a dirty whore that gets him going like nothing else.

He loves making you give him sloppy blowjobs and making you drool all over him, he loves bending you over whichever surface is closest to you and just taking you then and there.

He loves treating you like you are property, like you're a toy he gets to use to get himself off, pushing you into whichever position he wants you in.

He doesn't let go until you have come at least a few times, his favorite is when you come around his cock, the way you clench around him and that sweet, overwhelmed look in your eyes drives him insane.

He will always make sure afterwards that you are okay and that you know that none of the ways he treated you reflect how he actually feels about you and that you know how much he loves and appreciates you.

Rudy - Choking

The majority of the time there is no clear dom-sub relationship between the two of you, however, he adores you choking him.

His favorite position is when you are riding him and then wrap your hands around his throat, just tight enough to make him a little dizzy.

He'll beg for you to kiss him, take away even more of his ability to breathe.

He comes so hard being choked, almost passing out and whimpering for you to go harder on him.

Valeria - Strap-Ons

It doesn't matter what your gender is, if you let her, she'll use her strap on you.

She almost sees it as an extension of herself, she adores seeing you on your knees and making you suck the strap, praising and degrading you at the same time as she fucks your throat as deeply as you can take it, "such a pretty slut, so needy for my cock, aren't you?"

She fucks you like she wants you to never be able to walk again, rough and deep, long deep strokes. If the position allows it she'll also use her hands on you, circling your most sensitive spots with her thumb and taking pleasure in your desperate, whiny moans.

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milfsiril · 5 months ago

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symptomatic

kabru x reader; one shot

word count: 10k~

tw: adult audiences only, pet names, sex pollen, overstimulation, no pronouns but mentions of breasts and vagina, mild breeding kink if you squint

*—*

His breath tickles against your skin as he presses his face into your shoulder, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s purposely trying to tease you. Scratch that; he definitely is. He hums, his voice honeyed and low. “Don’t move,” he groans, his grip on you solid.

Although your party had recognized that you were all underprepared, you still made the mistake of rushing into the lower levels of the dungeon, despite how ill-advised it was.

Kabru was aware it was partially his fault; he had been too reckless, impatiently pushing everyone on despite the looks of uncertainty.

That’s what led to this very moment: Kabru clinging to you as if being apart physically hurt him, soft noises of protest spilling from his lips any time you shifted.

They had fallen and been revived many times, yet he had insisted on pushing further. This had led to him being snared by a plant monster and coming away coughing and wheezing as the pollen penetrated his sensitive membranes. Healing spells had proven ineffective, and despite the others’ voices of concern, he had waved them off, convincing himself he could push through any ill effects.

He had managed to stave off the symptoms of the pollen for long enough, but one night, as you had retired to the fireside, you commented about how he seemed more worn down than usual. You had raised your eyebrows in concern when you went to check his temperature and he had instead nuzzled against your palm.

Your party had left the dungeon, ignoring Kabru’s protests, and had holed him up in an inn so he could recover with no disturbances. You had agreed to stay with him, yet it didn’t explain why he was now curled around you, his fingers wrapped in the material of your shirt.

He whines quietly, pressing his face against you almost as if he was trying to hide. “Mm sorry,” he apologizes, his lips grazing the skin exposed by your shirt neckline. He rests his weight on you when you move, trying subconsciously to hold you down and prevent you from leaving.

Despite your prior relationship and his smooth talking ways, his pleas this time seem genuine as he begs you, “Please stay with me.”

You sigh heavily, stopping yourself from moving. You had originally joined his party because he was the only person you could find who would agree to take you. You worked as a member of a dungeoners safety and health organization, and had been required to go to the field (or the dungeon rather) to directly document health and safety violations.

Since most adventurers at best found an untrained person a burden and at worst were actively creating health and safety violations, it was difficult to find someone to take you with them. Luckily, Kabru’s party had needed the coin (or unluckily you supposed).

Kabru had also gone on a tangent about “protecting the rights of humanity” at the time, and winked at you, to which you had shuddered in disgust. The two of you were definitely at odds, and didn’t see eye to eye. You found him arrogant and narcissistic and he found you stuffy and nagging.

You two had argued often, and you had scolded him for not being careful many times, but still were the first to notice he was being affected. Now, you were here, nearly pinned under him as the rest of the party had gone to the next town over in search of a doctor who could remedy magical maladies.

He's.. a lot quieter now than he was before, not that you were complaining about that. If anything, you welcomed the temporary respite from the constant witty remarks and sarcastic quips that would spew from him on a daily basis.

His hand moves to thread through your hair, and he buries his face against your neck once again, inhaling deeply before letting out a breath that's almost akin to a sigh of relief.

He's so, so close to you. You can feel his chest rise and fall against your own, and you idly wonder if he's aware of just how hard his heart is beating.

You chew your lip, highly uncomfortable but willing yourself to be still for his sake. It’s not like he could help it at the moment, and it was your job to ensure adventurer safety technically, so you were the best to monitor him while the others went for help. His breath against your neck tickles, and you squirm a little. “This is… helping?”

As you squirm, he makes a low growl into your neck, almost like a warning not to move away. When he speaks, it's in a low murmur against your collar. "Stop moving. You're making it worse. Yes, it's helping, please. Just--" His grip on your shirt tightens, and he's suddenly moving to bury his face into your shoulder with a strangled moan of frustration and irritation. "Just let me breathe you in, for god's sake. You're not close enough."

You stiffen again, your body betraying you. While Kabru had certainly been an irritant for you, you felt terrible that he was so affected, and also.. had not been this close to someone in a very long time. You bring your hand up, petting his head awkwardly in what you hoped to be a comforting manner. He whined again in protest at your movement, and you hummed at him. “I have to move a little to make you as comfortable as possible… I’m sorry…” Gods, why does this have to feel so good?

He practically whimpers when you start to run your hands through his hair, his grip on your shirt lessening in order to hold onto your hip instead. His other hand finds its way to your side, fingers splayed out against your hip as if afraid that you might suddenly try to leave.

"It's-- It's fine," he says through gritted teeth, his voice cracking a little near the end as he tries to collect himself. "Just.. Just don't go too far. Please."

You bite your lip as he clings to you, his grip nearly bruising as he presses your body against his. “I won’t. I’m here.” You whisper as you keep petting his head. He seemed to react well to it. You allow your fingers to card through his hair in order to soothe him.

It's both a relief and a torture that you're indulging him. There's no other way he can satisfy this overwhelming need to hold and touch and make sure that you were here and real, and it's also torture because it makes it all the harder to keep any sort of coherent train of thought.

With how your fingers are running through his hair, he feels like he's losing his goddamn mind. He can practically hear the blood rushing in his ears if he tries to concentrate hard enough, and he leans into your touch.

You bite your lip even harder, drawing blood as you hear him practically purr, simultaneously trying to shove his face into your shoulder and push back into your hand at the same time.

Gods, you're going to drive him insane like this. He's completely unraveling under your hands, and it's.. it's so hard to think straight. He wants to push farther, wants more, but a part of him restrains himself from doing more than just bury his face against your shoulder and grip at your hip and side. He's already doing more than enough with how he's pinning you down like this.

Feeling more assured that this is helping, yet feeling bad that you’re even touching him in such a state, you shut your eyes, bringing your other hand up to rub up and down his back gently. “I’m sorry.” You whisper again, leaving the rest of that sentence unspoken. For him feeling like this? For touching him? For the inappropriate thoughts gracing your mind? You weren’t sure which.

No, no, he's enjoying the way you're rubbing up and down his back, the way your fingers comb through his hair. He's enjoying the way you're letting him hold you like this, indulging him so that the damned pollen can run its course through his systems. He's enjoying having your body flush against his, how your touch radiates through his clothes so that he can feel it against his skin. "Mmn... Don't apologize. Just.. gods, don't stop."

You nod, your cheek brushing his head as you do. Your fingers scratch his scalp, the other hands draw soothing circles against his back. His shirt is damp with sweat, and you look down at his curly head of hair rubbing against you. “You’re so warm...”

He practically writhes under the combined effect of the pollen and your touch. Your fingers scratch at his scalp and the back of his shoulders, and the circles you make against his back only make shivers run up his spine. He lets out another shuddery breath, and you can practically feel his body try to press up against your own even more than it already is. His shirt is sticking to his skin, mostly drenched with sweat now. "’m not, you’re too cool..."

You pause for a moment but continue stroking him when he whines, “Does that… does the coolness of my skin feel good?”

"M-mn-- yeah," he admits without hesitation, his words slightly muffled from where his face is tucked against your shoulder. "Your hands are cold, they-- gods, that feels good."

He lets out a shaky breath, and you feel his fingers dig into your hip, so hard that it's almost painful.

You take a deep breath, unsure if it’s a good idea or not, but the words tumble out of your mouth anyway. “Do you want to take off your shirt? It might help…”

His fingers freeze for a moment, and you can practically hear him swallow in an effort to respond. That request shouldn't have affected him so much, but he can already feel the heat rushing up his neck.

"... Yes," he finally manages to say, his voice hoarse. "Y-yes."

He sits up for a moment to take his shirt off, practically flinging it to the ground before he's back on you again, now with his bare chest flush against your own.

You grimace, though you still have your own shirt on, with less of a barrier you can feel how warm and damp he is. You return your hands to him, the heat of his back against the coolness of your hand. You rub your hand up and down, and grit your teeth at feeling his sinewy muscles twitch under your fingertips.

Why is the contrasting temperature difference between your body and his making him feel so sensitive? It's making him feel lightheaded with how your hand feels so good against his skin.

Almost on instinct, his hips grind against yours, seeking even more contact and friction. "Mmn.." he moans, his voice cracking into a ragged gasp.

You freeze, your eyes widening as you feel his hips move, grinding down against your thigh. “Ka-Kabru…”

He feels his heartbeat quicken at your reaction, and suddenly he's all too aware of how his body is moving against your own. How his hips are grinding, seeking more of that friction and contact that feels so good.

"Nggh don't-- Don't freeze up on me now." He tries to warn, but it comes out as a low, almost ragged plea. "Please don't, don't stop-- please."

His hips continue to move, and you bring both hands up to grab his cheeks. He nuzzles into your palms, his eyes hazy and face flushed. “Kabru… I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to, you know this magic is affecting you, and you’re not in your mind right now…”

He's so gone with the effect of the pollen, and your words almost seem to hang in the air for a moment with how he's too lost in the sensation of your hands and the feeling of your body flush against his own. But then the words actually register with his fuzzy, cloudy mind, and he groans, burying his face into your palm. "I know that, I know-- I know," he murmurs against your skin, his voice cracking. "I.. I want this. Please--"

You move his face again, making his hazy eyes look at you once more. “You’re sure? You’re ok with me helping you out?”

He's still grinding his hips against your thigh, his breathing labored and hitched as he tries to control himself. He wants you. He's craving you, and it must be so obvious in his expression and the way his body is moving against your own. It's taking all of his willpower to hold himself back from just taking you.

And yet, he knows. He knows that he is not in his right mind right now. So he swallows down a ragged moan, and nods weakly against your hands. "Yes."

You suck a breath in through your nose, closing your eyes momentarily to gather your bravery, and you use the grip on his cheeks to pull him level with your face, smashing your lips against his.

One moment, he's grinding down against you, seeking that friction that was driving him mad... and the next, he feels your hands tugging at his face to pull him up to your level. When he feels your lips against his, he practically sobs into your mouth, his mind going completely blank, overwhelmed by sensation.

He kisses you back greedily, his lips moving against your own with a feverish desperation that he's never felt before.

You feel his tongue immediately dart out, pushing against yours, him whimpering into your mouth as your tongues tangle. It’s sloppy, he doesn’t have the capacity to be precise at the moment, and his fingers dig into your skin. His hips had momentarily stopped in surprise, but he resumes grinding down, his position now switched so he’s nestled between your legs.

Your mouth is so perfect. So good. He wants to kiss you, wants to feel your tongue against his, and he practically keens when he feels you kiss him back with an equal fire.

His hips start to move again, now more confidently, more surely as he slots himself in between your legs. He lets out a whimper at the pressure, and his hands start to wander along your body.

His hand trails down to your chest, quickly finding your breast and squeezing the flesh, rolling it under his palm. You gasp into his mouth, moaning at the contact of both his hands and his hips grinding into yours.

He relishes how you moan against his mouth as his hand wanders down your chest, finding one breast and squeezing. He's greedy. Greedy to hear more sounds like that, to feel more of your body against his own.

His hips start to move more forcefully, the pressure driving him wild, and he almost growls into your mouth as his tongue tangles against your own. His other hand grips at whatever part of your body he can reach, holding tight to anchor himself to you.

He paws at you, and you allow him to explore, his hands moving quickly from place to place like he can’t decide where to touch. He untangles his mouth from yours, moving down to suck and bite at your neck messily, leaving saliva and marks behind as his whines against your skin.

He's practically drunk on the way you taste, addicted to how your body feels under his, and the pollen is making his mind feel fuzzy, hazy-- "Mine," he grunts against your skin.

You whimper at his words, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. You whine out loud as he leaves a particularly hard bite, his tongue soothing over it. “Ka…bru…”

He growls as you tug at the hair, the stinging sensation just adding on to the overwhelming amount of stimulus he's feeling right now. He knows that he's being rougher than usual, especially with the way he bit down on your neck just moments ago.

His tongue soothes over the bite mark, and he moans against your skin, his hips moving against yours in a relentless rhythm. He grinds against you, seeking more friction to satisfy his growing need.

His hands come down to grip the hem of your shirt, growling as he tugs his mouth away to pull it over your head, almost as if he’s angry at himself for having to be separated from your body for one second. Shirt off, he presses his chest against yours, grinding his entire body into you, licking your cheek.

You lift your legs to either side of him, making it easier for him to fit between them. He immediately drops his head to your chest, wrapping his lips around your exposed nipple and sucking hard. “Haaa-ahh!” You cry out, surprised by the intensity.

Gods, the way you sound when you cry out. The way you taste. He moans against your chest as he works his mouth against your breast, sucking hard.

He lets out another whine, his hips grinding against yours relentlessly, the pressure making him ache in the best way possible. "You're mine," he grunts against your skin. "All mine."

He switches sides a few times, nipping with his teeth and sucking, before you push lightly at his shoulders. “Nnngh… pants… off…” You demand.

He lets out a whine at the loss of your skin beneath his mouth, but he lets you push him back as you gasp out your request. Pants off—

His hands are already moving to fumble with the laces, working them off as quickly as possible until he's left in just his underwear.

He doesn't hesitate to press himself against you again, his hands gripping your hips to center himself as he resumes grinding against you.

You had somehow managed to pull your own bottoms down as fast as he had done his, so the only barrier between you was your underclothes. You whimper, feeling his heat between your thighs, embarrassed he could feel how damp your underwear had become in such a short time.

You're so wet-- The thought comes unbidden, but suddenly he is very much aware of it, aware of just how much you're enjoying this, how much you're enjoying him against you.

He gasps, almost akin to a whine, against your skin, and he can feel how the pollen has affected him, has left him a mess, desperate on top of you. "Can I...?" he pants, pulling away from your chest to look at you.

He lets out a ragged moan at your nod, his eyes dark with desire. He's panting, breathing heavily as he looks at you.

He sits back on his heels and gently pulls your underwear down your thighs, exposing your flushed skin beneath him. He hesitates for a moment, his gaze wandering across your body, taking in the sight of you beneath him, and he groans, leaning down to leave another bite mark on your hip.

You gasp, which fades into a moan as he sucks a mark, his hands coming up to part your thighs.

He growls, making room for himself to move in between them. His mouth wanders across your hip, making sure to mark your skin with a few more bites before he looks back up at you with a hazy stare.

He gasps hoarsely, his voice cracking as he watches your expression. He lifts up one of your legs, placing it over his shoulder. "Look at you~"

You shudder at the reverence in his voice, embarrassed by how closely he’s inspecting you. You whine as he brings up his fingers to test your wetness, rubbing them together and making a string between. You whimper, looking away.

His pupils blow out wide, and he can feel the way your body shudders beneath him. His gaze is almost piercing as he looks at you, his eyes raking down your body, taking in every little detail. You shut your eyes as you start to feel overwhelmed.

"No, no... look at me," he commands urgently, bringing his other hand up to gently grab your chin, gently pulling your face up to look at him. "I want to see you.”

You scrunch your face, but look at him as he had asked. His eyes are lidded, and his face is still flushed. He leans down, placing a teasing kiss on your lower stomach, keeping eye contact while he does so.

"Good," he croons against your skin. "Gods, you're so good for me." One of his hands comes up, moving up to gently cup one of your breasts in his palm. "So good, so perfect."

You whimper again, both turned on and embarrassed by the praise. “Wh-what are you going to do…?”

He chuckles, his fingers teasingly rubbing against your nipple as he speaks, "What do you think I'm going to do?" he asks lightly, his mouth against your stomach again as he lets out a warm breath of air over your skin.

"I'm going to taste you." he answers, his eyes never leaving yours. "Going to make you mine, completely."

He moves down, his hot breath falling against your center. You bite your lip, wondering where he suddenly got all this patience from when he was so desperate before.

His mouth slowly moves lower, and lower, his tongue darting out to sample you, drawing a long, slow stripe against your skin. He groans at the feeling, the taste of you, and he wants—

But he restrains himself, moving his head to nip at the inside of your thigh instead. His hands massage your skin as his mouth teases around you.

You whine, your hand resting atop his head. “Shouldn’t we be… helping y-you… not me?”

He lets out a shaky breath against your skin, his mouth pulling away from your thigh for a moment, though his hands remain pressed against you. "Later," he pants out. "I'll deal with that... later. Let me... Let me focus on you, for now."

He lets out a ragged gasp as he takes another look at you, taking in the way you're spread out in front of him, helpless beneath him. "L-let me focus--"

You clench around nothing, his strong, hyper focused gaze making you feel extra sensitive. “Kabru…” You whimper his name mindlessly.

He lets out a groan at the way you clench around nothing, and he desperately wants to replace his gaze with something else.

He leans his head down again, bringing his mouth back between your legs, just to teasingly run his tongue against your folds. "Just... just relax, sweetheart," he whispers, his breath against your skin.

Despite his words, your stomach clenches as his tongue dips into your folds. You whine again, and his eyes flutter shut as he tastes you. You feel desperate suddenly, your eyebrow twitching. This was supposed to be making him feel better, and yet he’s toying with you?

"Patience," he murmurs against you, his voice rough. He can tell that you're getting restless, but he doesn't mind that at the moment. He wants to feel you writhe beneath him, wants to hear your desperate whimpers, wants to feel you clench around nothing as his tongue teases you.

He mouths at you with a slow, deliberate pace, not letting you get what you want too easily.

At that, your mind momentarily forgets he’s under a magical effect, that vexation at his bravado returning. You thread your hands in his hair, tugging hard. He whimpers as you pull his head back, hissing at him. “As much fun as you’re having, we don’t have all day.”

He lets out a low, needy whine as you tug at his hair, his body shuddering as he lets you pull his head back. He lets out a shaky exhale as he looks up at you, his gaze hazy with want, but also slightly surprised at how commanding you're suddenly being.

"I know we don't," he says. "But you just look so good, like this. You just... I just want-- I need--" He bites his lip, trying to find the words to express himself.

You feel bad instantly, knowing he can’t control himself right now, shame flooding you. You loosen your grip, smoothing his hair instead. “I know… I want you to feel better, but you’re going to make it worse if you drag it out. Let me help you, please?”

He lets out a low whine as you soothe his hair, and he leans into your touch, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. He nods a bit at your request, giving in to your words even as his body tries to resist.

But even still... even though he wants to protest, wants to keep teasing you, just to hear that pretty voice of yours, his body is begging for more. "Please," he gasps out, looking at you with wide, pleading eyes. "Please, help me."

You shudder at the need in his voice, and part your thighs more. “If this is what you want…” you gently push his head down, “then take it…”

His eyes go half-lidded as he gazes back down at you, his mouth parting slightly as his breath stutters in his throat. He can feel the pollen making it hard to think, making it hard to resist, and he can feel your fingers, gentle but firm, guiding him back down, back to your heat.

He lets out a low groan as his tongue begins to taste you again, and his hands grip tighter against your thighs.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back your sounds as he fully puts all his effort into devouring you, his grip on your hips tight as he pulls you against his face, nearly smothering himself.

He's desperate in his want, his need for more of you, his tongue working against your skin, trying to get as much of you as he can.

He lets out another desperate whine against you as his tongue dips deeper, trying to lick into you more.

You feel your eyes flutter, hand tangling in his hair again, this time just holding him while you rock up your hips, keeping time with his pace. You whine out as he groans into you, the vibrations shooting heat through your stomach. “Nnnghh… good… feels.. good..” You whimper.

He lets out a strangled moan as your fingers grip his hair, his eyes practically rolling back at the feeling of your fingers against his scalp, holding him tight against you.

He can feel the way your hips rock up to meet his motions, the way you whine out at his sounds against you, and it drives him wild. He doubles his efforts, trying to get more, more—

You feel the bed rock, and realize he’s grinding his hips down as he pushes his tongue into you. You moan aloud, turned on by how much he’s getting off on this alone. You accidentally press down, smushing his face harder into you as you clench, your body heating up.

He shivers as you press down against him, his hands digging into your skin as he lets out a gasp against you. He's almost lost in the feeling of you clenching around his tongue, his eyes closing as he moans against you, his hips pressing down into the bed as he grinds against the pressure.

He can feel the pollen taking hold of him again, and it makes him desperate for more, makes him need more of you. He lets out another hitched moan against you, his tongue lapping up every drop of you he can collect.

You moan, body rocking both from your own movement and his, your head falling back against the pillow. “Fingers… please…” You manage to gasp out.

He lets out another whine as you plead for him, shuddering at the pleasured sound of your voice. For a moment, he thinks about denying you, not giving you what you want just yet, wanting to hear you beg for him...

But the pollen in his veins is making his brain fuzzy, making him desperate, and he wants to please you, wants you to sing for him. His head pulls back from you for just a moment, and he pants against your skin.

His hand comes down between your thighs again, his fingers parting you as his tongue quickly gets back to work, and you keen as you feel both start to press inside of you. “Y-yes….” your breath hitches, and you flop back against his ruffled pillow again.

He's frantic, his hands moving desperately, his teeth occasionally biting marks into your skin as he works his mouth over all of you. He's drowning in you, greedy for more, begging and pleading and whining into you as his head moves against you.

He can't think straight, can't do anything other than focus on you, on the way you taste, on the way you sound.

He lets out a ragged gasp against you when you suddenly squeeze down, your heat and tightness making him dizzy. He’s frozen in place for just a moment as he feels you clenching around him, feeling like he's already on the edge, like he's already so, so…

He finally regains his bearings, moving his fingers inside you, trying to give you some of what you need as he whimpers desperately against you once again.

He starts to pump them into you, his own hips bucking against the bed, whining and laving his tongue against you, the pollen once again ravaging his mind as he gives into the pleasure.

His body is shaking uncontrollably, breath coming out in desperate gasps as he pumps his fingers into you. He can feel the pollen making his head go fuzzy, making him struggle to even think, his body giving control over to instinct as he gives into the pleasure, the need to feel you. “So good," he pants out hoarsely. "Gods, you feel so good-"

Your back arches, your breath coming out heavy as you focus on the feeling of his fingers. “Good… need it… haaahh-“

He lets out a low, ragged moan as he feels you arch up into him, his fingers pumping into you again, trying to find the perfect rhythm. His eyes are half-lidded, darkened with need as he looks up at you, wanting to see your face as he takes you, as he pleases you. "I need you," he gasps out desperately. "Need you so badly- please!”

You clench around his fingers again, and he groans, fading into a high pitched whine as he leans down, burying his face into you again. The bed rocks harshly as he grinds down even harder, his shoulders trembling against your thighs.

The sounds that leave him are broken and ragged, almost animalistic, as he tries to hold back his own moans. The bed is shaking at the force of his grinding, his body moving on pure instinct as he tries to take more of you, to feel you all around him-

He suddenly lifts his head, moans tumbling from his lips as his eyes roll back in his head. His body shudders, mouth falling out with small panting whines coming from him. He shakes for a moment, his hand stilling as his head flops forward, the shaking of the bed stopping. You lift your head curiously.

He's panting against you, a strangled, broken sound, as he slowly works his way back down from the wave of pleasure that crashes over him. His body is shuddering against yours, the remnants of the pollen making his brain go fuzzy as his head rests against you.

He seems to realize that you're looking at him, and he slowly opens his eyes to look back at you, his face still flushed and breath labored. "..mmm.." he groans out between pants.

You bite your lip, looking at his fucked out expression. “Kabru..? Did you just..?”

He turns red at your words and he shuts his eyes, his head flopping down again as he tries to catch his breath. "..I.. I may have..." he says with an embarrassed groan. "..it was too much, you were too much-"

You rub his head softly, the pleasure in your own body softening back to a lull for the moment. “It’s ok… you were feeling good…”

He shivers at your touch, his eyes closing again at the soothing feel of your fingers in his hair. He lets out another low groan, the last of the tension seeming to slip from his body as he leans into your palm. "..it felt amazing," he gasps out between breaths. "You... you felt amazing, too good. I couldn't help it."

You smirk a bit, your own breathing returning to normal. You pet his head for a moment longer, before you pause. “Do you… do you want to stop now..?”

He blinks up at you for a moment, his mind still a bit fuzzy from the pleasure just moments before. He almost thinks about stopping, before he feels another overwhelming wave of need, of want, crash over him again.

He shuts his eyes for a moment, taking a shaky breath as he tries to get more control over himself, before he looks back up at you again. "No," he gasps out, his eyes dark with desire. "More, please, need more of you-"

He starts moving his fingers again, and your eyes widen, letting out a surprised moan as the hunger returns to his gaze. At the very least, his release gave him some clarity, so he’s entirely focused on you now, his tongue coming back down to rub against you, his eyes never leaving yours.

His eyes stay locked on as he works you back up, the desire, the need still burning strong in his gaze as he moves his fingers against you. He's determined now, focused on one thing and one thing only, on making you cry out for him, on letting himself please you.

His tongue works against you with precision, moving in practiced motions as he watches you for any tiny reaction, any tiny sound.

You breathe out a long moan, the dormant fire in your blood kicking back up as he returns his attention to you. Your thighs tighten together over his shoulders, squishing his face between.

He closes his eyes as he feels you squeeze around him, a low moan rumbling in his chest as his head is trapped between your thighs. His fingers keep moving desperately, and he keeps lapping at you, tasting as much of you as he can, lost in the sensation, in the pleasure.

You arch up again against his mouth. “Need to finish… wanna come for you…”

He lets out another low moan at your words, a shudder going through his body at the sound of your voice. He's desperate to give you what you want, to make you feel good.

His hands keep moving, pumping his fingers as his tongue keeps sliding against you desperately, taking in as much of you as he can. He wants to make you finish, to make you fall over the edge, all for him.

You whine, your hips bucking as you whimper out a string of curses. “Shit I’m close… gonna come… please…”

He whimpers low in his chest, his eyes closing and breath stuttering for a moment as he hears you whine and curse. He wants nothing more than to give you what you need, to give you what you want, and so he moves his fingers and tongue faster, working you towards your completion as he gasps out. "Please, please, please-" he whines desperately against you.

He sucks your clit into his mouth, and at that your head snaps back, your eyes rolling as you crest over the edge. You hold your breath for just a moment, then it all comes whooshing out as you nearly scream, hips snapping against his hand and face as you reach your release.

His own eyes flutter shut as you come, a muffled groan leaving him as he feels your body shudder and tense against him. He tries to keep his hands and mouth moving, to keep working you through the pleasure, desperate to draw out every last wave of it that he can. He feels satisfaction at the way you call out for him, at the way you clench around him.

You whimper as you come down from your high, Kabru cleaning you off with his tongue. The overstimulation hits and you try to push him away.

He lifts his head at your insistence, his eyes hazy and dilated as he slowly comes down as well. His expression turns apologetic as he realizes the overstimulation, and he quickly pulls his face away from you. He lets out a shaky breath, his body shuddering at the essence of you still on his tongue. He wipes his mouth as he hovers over you again, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his eyes rake over your body.

Your chest heaves as you attempt to recover, looking up at him with your eyes lidded in satisfaction.

He just stares down at you for a moment, his eyes taking in your flushed skin, your lidded eyes, the way your chest heaves as you recover. He feels his desire flare up again at the sight, his body aching for more, for everything, but he manages to keep himself back, for the moment.

He pants softly as he runs his eyes over you again, before finally letting out a shaky groan. "You're so beautiful," he blurts out.

You reach up, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him down for a kiss, lips meshing together more slowly than before, but still filled with need.

He lets out a low groan into the kiss as you pull him down, melting against you as your lips press together. Some of the frantic and desperate need from earlier is gone, replaced instead by a different, subtler kind of burn.

He moves his body against yours, pressing himself up to you, his arms wrapping around you, holding you against him as he savors the feeling of your lips against his.

You kiss like that for a moment longer, before you feel his need poking at your hip once more, hips bucking into yours as he starts to kiss you more frantically, the pollen once again overtaking his mind, panting against your mouth and hips stuttering.

He lets out a shuddered gasp as his hips buck up again, his body instinctively seeking out more contact, more pleasure. The need, the desire, is back in full force as he kisses you more frantically, desperately, his hands gripping your body like a lifeline.

"Please..." he pleads softly against you between pants. "Please, please—"

You spread your legs some more, letting him slide in between again. You reach down, taking his hardness in your hand and guiding it to rub against your entrance. “Come on…”

He lets out a shaky breath against you, his body trembling with the sensation, the need running through him. Before he can doubt himself, he moves his hips again, pushing into you, his eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure hits him.

"Ah-" he gasps softly, his breath shuddering even more in his chest as he burrows his face into your neck, his hands gripping at your body again.

You feel him shake as he makes his way in, seated inside you. He hovers over you, looking down to watch himself disappear inside you, mouth hanging open and eyes wide.

He pauses there, screwing his eyes shut and trying to retain his sanity. You dig your nails into his back to bring him back to earth.

His eyes shoot open at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin, a soft moan escaping him at the slight sting. He tries to remember to breathe, to stay focused. "You feel so good…!"

You move your hips just a little. “Kabru.. need you to move.” You whine.

He lets out another shuddered gasp at the feeling of your hips stuttering when you say that, and he quickly nods, desperate to make you feel good, to give you what you need.

"Okay, okay-" he pants, his voice shaky. He starts to move his own hips then, slowly at first, pulling almost all the way back before pushing back in again.

You tilt your head back, exposing your neck as you tremble and whine, inadvertently clenching around him. Even with the preparation, it’s still a good stretch.

He feels you clench around him, a shaky moan falling from his lips. He grips at your hips with his hands, holding you firmly as he finds a rhythm, slowly working up to a steadier pace.

He lowers his head to your neck, nuzzling and kissing at the exposed skin, desperately trying to keep himself in control.

You arch, pushing yourself up into him. While it feels good and you’re enjoying this, you know he needs more to feel better. You look at him, foreheads pressing together as you look in his gorgeous blue eyes. “D-don’t try to control yourself, you need this, take what you want.”

He lets out another low moan as you arch into him, his eyes shutting for a moment at the sensation. But then he feels your forehead press up against his, and he slowly opens his eyes to look at you again.

He can see the concern in the way you look at him, the way you talk, and he feels a pang of affection for you in his chest. He also knows the pollen's still getting to his brain a bit. "Are you... sure..?" he gasps out. "I don't want to hurt.. to overwhelm-“

You bite your lip, deciding if there’s any moment to be honest, it’s this one. “It’s fine.. I… like when it hurts a little…”

His eyes widen at your words, the confession taking him a little off guard. He shivers, a shudder running through his body as his eyes rake over your face, trying to figure out if you're telling the truth. He lets out another breath, the words still bouncing around his head.

You flush, embarrassed at his lack of response. “Ok well if you want to go all slow be my guest…” You mumble.

He lets out a soft scoff at your shyness, affection welling up in his chest at the way your face flushes. He moves to kiss your forehead before leaning down to press his lips to your cheek, followed by him sliding down your jaw to nibble gently at your neck. "Was just making sure, is all," he mumbles gently against your skin. "You... like the pain, huh..?"

As he says that, he snaps his hips against yours, making a cry bubble from your lips. You furrow your brow. “I-I….”

His eyes darken as he hears your moan, your mewl at the movement of his hips. His fingers dig gently into your hips as he starts to move again, more purposely this time, his eyes glued to your face, watching your expressions intently. "You like it when it hurts.." he breathes into your ear.

You blush, moans being forced out of you as he picks up the pace with each sentence, his hips punctuating everything he says with a sharp thrust. You gasp, “Y-yeah… feels g-good-!”

He lets a soft snicker out as he watches you flush in embarrassment, the sight only serving to encourage him further. His eyes rake over your face hungrily, drinking in all your expressions, the way you flush and the way you gasp for breath, the way your words seem to come out involuntarily.

He starts to pick up the pace more, shifting his hips a bit and adjusting the angle-

"There. What about there..?" he asks you, voice strained.

He feels you squeeze around him as he hits your most sensitive spot, your body tensing as a moan falls from your lips. A smirk tugs at his lips as he takes note, filing it away for future reference. "Right there...," he purrs into your ear, watching your expression intently as he angles his hips and starts to move against you again.

Your hands clench his back, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks as he starts to hit that spot over and over. You try to say his name, but it only comes out as a gurgle.

He hisses softly as he feels your nails digging into his back again, the slight sting adding a pleasant sensation to the needy feeling running through him.

He groans at the way you whimper and squirm underneath him, the sound of his name leaving your lips in a garbled moan driving him crazy. He keeps working his hips up into you, moving against you frantically.

He presses his face into your neck, hips moving at a brutal pace, not wanting to be separated for even a second. You hold him to you tightly, wrapping your whole body around him.

He lets out a strangled gasp as he feels your grip, your hold on him tight and your limbs encircling him. He can feel himself getting lost in the sensation of you, every fiber in his body craving more, more, more.

He keeps his face buried in your neck, breathing in your scent as he keeps on slamming his hips against you, frantically, desperately, his fingers gripping your hips tightly.

He sits up suddenly, pulling your calves up onto his shoulders. You start to ask what he’s doing, but instead heave a loud moan as he bends you in half, leaning forward to push into you again. “Oh… oh gods..!”

He lets out a groan of pleasure as he moves your legs up onto his shoulders, the new position letting him push himself deeper into you, and he pants loudly as he feels you clench around him, your words getting cut off mid-sentence. "You good..?" he asks you between breaths, wanting to make sure you're alright in the new position.

You open your mouth and a cry tumbles out. You squeeze your eyes shut. “So deep… please… more…”

He lets out another noise when he hears your cry, the sound shooting straight to his gut. His hands grip onto your legs at your words, heart skipping a beat with desire.

"Yeah, I got you... I'll give you more..." he gasps as he starts to move again, angling himself against that spot he'd found earlier and starting a steady rhythm, working up to a slightly faster pace.

You try hard to keep your eyes open, his dark lust filled ones keeping eye contact, his face much closer as he drives into you like this. The new angle feels so intense, you can’t even try to close your mouth, every breath accompanied by some kind of pleasured noise.

He keeps his eyes fixed on yours as he moves into you, watching, drinking up the way your face twists and the sounds that fall from your lips, the way your breaths and gasps are getting more labored.

Between all his gasps and panting, he manages to speak a few times, his words shaky, raspy, as he tells you how good you feel, how much he needs you.

His hips slap against you and you bite your lip hard, surely bruising yourself at how much you’re feeling. “Gods… need it so bad… want you to fill me up.. hannghh-!”

He lets out a shuddering moan at your desperate whines, his eyes darkening as his hands grip your legs with a little more pressure. He can feel the building tension in him starting to get more and more intense, his eyes raking over your face desperately. “Yeah, you want it that bad, huh..? Need me to fill you up, baby..?" he pants out, voice strained with the effort.

You nod mindlessly, feeling your eyes go out of focus at his words. “Need it… please.. give it to me….”

He gasps as he sees your face start to twist in front of him, your eyes glazing over and your words sounding almost mindless. He lets out a shaky moan at the desperate tone of your voice, his body getting tight with tension. "Yeah… yeah, I will, you’ll take it-" he gasps out as his pace starts to get more and more frantic, moving against you roughly.

In the back of your mind you wonder if some of that pollen had rubbed off on you, acting even more desperate than the party leader above you. You tilt your head back, enjoying the sensation of his hips pounding into you.

You gasp and moan again as he keeps pumping into you, feeling the burning pleasure building in your abdomen again. You bring your hand down, fingers rubbing circles against yourself to help bring you to the edge.

He can feel the way your body starts to tense up, your moans getting more and more frequent, and he knows that you're close.

He watches as your hand comes down to touch yourself, the movement making his heart start to pound in his chest harder.

"Gods- just like that, baby.. please-" he gasps out, voice strained.

You look up again, making eye contact with him, and a spark of pleasure shoots through you. You whine, bucking your hips up as best you can from your position. “Gonna come again… oh gods… gonna come for you…”

He lets out a shaky gasp as he sees you look up at him, your eyes making direct contact with his, and he whimpers at the feeling that comes with the sight.

He keeps moving against you while trying to control himself, not wanting to lose himself too soon. But at the sound of your whine and your words- "Please baby.... come for me-"

At his response, your eyes slam shut, your body tensing for a moment before you thrash, your pleasure being ripped from you as you reach your high again. You tremble around him, both your thighs and insides clenching as he keeps his harsh pace through it.

His eyes go wide as he watches you come undone in front of him, your body tensing and trembling as he keeps moving against you, the feeling almost sending him over the edge.

He moans loudly as he feels you clench around him, the sight of you in front of him, the sounds you involuntarily make, the way you thrash as you reach your high making the tension in his body almost unbearable-

"Gods- Gods, baby-" he gasps out again, his eyes squeezing shut.

You shiver and whimper as he keeps going, “Please…” You moan out “Come inside… please…”

He feels another pang of pleasure go through him when he hears your voice, shaky and needy. Each word from your mouth only makes it harder to hold onto any semblance of control, makes him want to give in even more.

He pants as he picks up his pace, moving harder, deeper into you as he feels himself close to the edge. He almost moans out your name in between the gasps and pants as he gets closer and closer- "Yeah... gonna... hah.. gonna give it to you-!”

He falls silent, his head dipping down as he concentrates, his brow furrowing as he buries himself in you over and over, gasping as he teeters right on the edge.

He tries to hold on just a bit longer, trying to draw out this moment in time as long as possible, savoring the feeling of moving against you, the sound of you moaning right in his ear. “Fuck-" he gasps out- "Hah- please.. I'm gonna- mmph-"

He slams his hips into you frantically, his vision going white as he finally reaches his climax.

His eyes squeeze closed as he loses control, his hips moving in quick, rough bursts as he feels himself reach his peak, his fingers digging into your hip as he gasps and writhes.

He lets out a shaky moan as he feels his release wash over him, his body tense as his hips twitch while he rides out his orgasm, moving instinctively against you. He groans out your name in between the pants and moans as he shudders and trembles.

He feels himself twitch inside you, the sensation sending sparks through his body as he pants desperately, still coming down from his high.

He leans against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his body pressed against yours, still moving against you slowly. He lets out a shaky gasp, his breath hot against your skin as he tries to catch his breath.

You bring your hand up, moving his damp hair from his forehead, feeling him still twitching.

He shudders when he feels you touch his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin from the exertion and sweat. He shuts his eyes as he feels your hand move along his face, your fingers tangling in his hair gently. His breathing still has a bit of a tremble, his body shuddering from the aftershocks.

He lets out a soft gasp as he feels himself twitch again, the feeling starting to get just a bit overstimulating.

You sigh out as he breathes, slowly returning to normal. He lays still for just a moment, yet suddenly his hips snap up again. He whimpers, a mix of pain and pleasure, but his hips move again as if they have a mind of their own.

His eyes widen when he feels his hips move without his control, his body acting on its own as it seems to be searching for more friction. His whimpers are shaky, caught somewhere between bliss and discomfort.

He gasps as he feels himself twitch again, the sensation of being overstimulated making him shiver. "Wait-" he gasps, voice trembling, "help me- please…"

You gasp as you feel him drive into you again, sensitive from just before. “Kabru..?” You question.

He lets out a whimper as he moves into you again, the mixture of pleasure and sensitivity causing him to shiver as he moans.

He feels his cock twitch inside you again, another wave of sensation running through him. He pants out a shaky "Please-" as he lets himself get caught up in the feeling, his eyes going half-lidded again.

You shiver at the movement. “What’s… you’re still..?”

He trembles as he hears your words, his mind feeling fuzzy with pleasure. He bites down on his lip as he tries to get control of his thoughts again. "Hah- Yeah… yeah, I-” he gasps out, voice shaky and trembly. "I-I don’t… think I’m done-”

You feel his arm muscles shake with exertion, picking himself up to hover over you again, a complicated look on his face, over sensitive but still craving the sensation.

He swallows hard as he looks down at you, his expression torn between discomfort and craving more. His body is still seeking out friction without his control, his hips grinding against yours.

You furrow your brows, concerned. “You… doesn’t it hurt…?” You run your hands through his hair, him whimpering and pushing up into your palm, his hips snapping again and he lets out a cry.

His expression of pleasure falters when you ask him if it hurts, your words reminding him of the overwhelming feeling he’s experiencing. He lets out a shaky whine as he nods, his hips still moving despite himself.

You bite your lip, feeling bad for him. It hurt him to continue, but it also hurt to not continue. You consider what to do, and bring your hand to his cheek as he whimpers, hips twitching.

He whines again at the feeling of his hips moving, the conflicting feelings of pleasure and pain making it difficult to think straight.

Determined to help, you wrap yourself around him suddenly, pushing with all your might to flip his heavy form without crushing any important parts. He looks up at you in surprise as you smile down at him, still straddling him. “You’re tired… let me help?”

He lets out a shaky breath as he looks up at you, still somewhat tired from the previous session. He nods eagerly at your words, a silent plea for you to help him let his body rest.

You feel him relax a bit and smile, getting up on your heels and hearing him whimper uselessly at the slide. You place your hands on his chest for leverage, slowly starting to grind up and down on him.

He gasps as he feels you moving on top of him, his eyes widening again as he watches you, hands clenching around the sheets beneath him. The feeling of you grinding up and down against him sends sparks of pleasure through his body, the mixture of oversensitivity and pleasure making him shiver and whine involuntarily. "Gods- Baby- please-" he gasps out, voice trembling.

You gasp in tandem as your own body feels the ache, still moving so you can give him relief. “I got you…”

He feels his body shiver again as he watches you move on top of him, his eyes fixed on you as he swallows hard. The overstimulation is still sending waves of pleasure and pain through his body, but the feeling of you trying to give him relief makes his heart flutter. "Hah- I-I know, baby, I know… you’ve got me…" he moans out, his voice broken as he speaks.

You bounce a little harder, breath whooshing out of Kabru every time you drop back down. He releases his grip on the sheets and brings his hands up to loosely rest on your hips.

You run your hands over his chest, moaning “You just.. c-couldn’t end there huh? Needed more~!”

He moans softly as he feels your hands roaming over his chest, the feeling sending shivers through his body. He bites down on his lip as he listens to you, a shaky smile crossing his face as he nods weakly. "Y-Yeah…" he gasps out, voice trembling. "I couldn’t.. couldn’t stop, I need-" he moans, his hips pushing up instinctively against you.

You shut your eyes, focusing on bouncing on him, clenching every time you go up. “You’re gonna… fill me again… hah..”

He gasps at the feeling of you clenching around him, his head tossing back against the bed as he lets out a moan. His breath comes out in whimpers, each one more shaky than the last as he feels himself be pushed down with every movement. “Yeah- yess- I-Hah-” he gasps out, voice trembling as his hips push up once again, trying to meet you in the middle.

You move as fast and hard as you can, his whines picking up in tone as he pushes back against you, so close again already.

His breath is coming out in desperate stutters as you move on top of him, the feeling of you bouncing on him pushing him quickly towards the edge. He feels his body trembling harder, his hands clenching on your hips tightly as he pushes back against you, desperate for more stimulation. “Hah-! Baby-!” he moans, his voice trembling as he gets close again. “Gods- please… please-“

It takes only a few seconds later, and you feel him tense, his face melted in an expression of desire.

He reaches his high, body tensing and shaking as he lets out a loud gasp, his head tossed back against the bed. His eyes slam shut tight, face frozen in intense pleasure as he moans loudly, his body trembling and twitching beneath you.

“Hahh- f-fuck-!” he cries out, body tightening as he rides it out.

You bounce a few more times to milk him, but he whines, this time is pain, and you sink down on his lap, panting.

He swallows hard, his breath coming out in weak gasps, hands still clenching on your hips tightly.

You lift up, pulling off him, and he whines again, but sighs as you remove yourself and flop down next to him.

He lays there, breathing heavily, still trying to catch his breath and steady himself. He closes his eyes, feeling exhausted and oversensitive in the aftermath of his climax.

You both lay there for a few more moments, his eyes still closed as he tries to even out his breathing. He can feel the exhaustion in his body, the ache in his limbs, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

After a few more moments he opens his eyes, turning to look over at you. He’s still panting slightly as he lays there, looking somewhat drained and exhausted, but there’s a soft, almost grateful look in his eyes.

As he makes eye contact, reality comes back, and you blush, looking at the ceiling instead. It’s silent for a moment. “You feel better?

He stares at you for a moment, his gaze studying your flushed face and averted eyes, and he can't help but crack a faint smile at your blushing. He stays still for a few moments longer, the silence growing thicker.

He considers your question, taking stock of how his body feels. The hazy, oversensitized feeling has receded, leaving a more general soreness in its place. He nods slightly. "Yeah… I feel better. Thank you,” he says hoarsely.

You blush harder, keeping your gaze on the ceiling. “You’re welcome..” You remain there for another moment before sitting up, clearing your throat. “You’re.. okay now?”

When he nods, you determine that he’s worked everything out, your back aching as you raise yourself off the bed. “Alright good… the others will be back with the doctor soon so…” You trail off.

He watches you as you sit up, noticing the way you wince slightly as your back aches. He feels a pang of guilt, seeing the aftereffects of the pollen on your body.

At your words, he swallows hard, nodding slowly. "Yeah…" he says quietly. There's a moment of awkward silence between the two of you, the realization of what just happened hitting both of you with full force. The others would be returning soon.

You stand, your legs shaking slightly. “I’ll uh… head to my room… if you need me again just…” You look away, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

His gaze follows you as you stand up, his eyes flickering subtly as he notices the slight tremble in your legs. He knows that he’s at least somewhat responsible for your current state.

He swallows as you speak, his eyes widening a bit as you look away, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. He’s suddenly hit by how different this situation is outside of the haze of the pollen. He nods awkwardly, still sitting on the bed. "Alright. Yeah. I’ll… I’ll.. keep that in mind," he stutters.

You quickly get dressed, the two of you silently and awkwardly moving around the room. After you finish putting your clothes back on, you head to the door, giving him a nod before stepping into the hallway.

He watches as you quickly get dressed, the silence between the two of you filled only by the sounds of fabric rustling and you moving around the room. When you finish, he frowns as he watches you move towards the door, feeling a pang of something in his chest as you give him a final nod.

His eyes follow you as you step out into the hallway, leaving him alone in the room. He groans, his mind racing, wrestling with the strange mixture of emotions swirling inside him after what just happened between the two of you.

*—*

a/n: sorry if the formatting is weird i pumped this out on my train ride today. anyway uh this was inspired by beooum’s character ai bot prompt and it got my brain moving, so enjoy my rambles as i procrastinate more of my school work!

#kabru #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi #smut #kabru x reader #x reader #dungeon meshi smut #dunmeshi smut #kabru of utaya #delicious in dungeon #IM REPOSTING BC I WENT TO EDIT AND I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT #TUMBLR MOBILE MY WORST ADVERSARY WTF

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hoshiina · 6 months ago

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pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: Hii im the anon who ask for the wips and i saw the blurbs you have. IM VERY MUCH HOOKED with the third ones where hoshina loves reader's smile🥹 relating to that maybe i would like to add(if you want, but feel free to do seperate if you want) soft moments with hoshina x reader who felt like she being the most pessimistic person regarding love(not anti but just felt like she doesn't deserve it) so she is on denial when hoshina make a move on her

notes: reader is usually rather energetic, talkative reader, hoshina thinks you are "beautiful" at some point, TYSM FOR THE REQ!! sorry it took so long omg

wc: 1300

Something was wrong— terribly wrong. There was no way someone would want you, let alone your vice-captain who could have anyone in the world. Not your vice-captain who did everything with such care and looked after everyone so preciously. And definitely never your vice-captain you were terribly in love with.

There must be some mistake. Or else he wouldn’t have just said what you thought he said.

“Pardon me?” you asked.

He looked a little flustered and you had never seen such an expression on him, confusing you further. “I love you,” he said again, softly. “I’d love to know if you’re in a relationship.”

The way he spoke so carefully added to how nervous it made you feel— it was so different from how he usually talked to you. Now, you were lost to say the least, because you couldn’t think of one reason why he would like you, let alone romantically. Under normal circumstances, you’d assume you were being played with or that this was a silly prank or dare, but you knew that Hoshina wasn’t one to do something so horrible. So what was happening?

“I am not…” you said, still confused, but the visible relief in his eyes made your heart tighten. Oh gosh, is he serious?

“I’m… thrilled,” he said, and he wished you goodnight and left. While you were terribly flustered to know he liked you back, there was a voice in your head that wouldn’t stop making you feel anxious. Something felt so odd to you— to be loved back. To be loved back by him. You enjoyed talking to people so you talked to him often, but never had you thought he'd think of you like that. Having a naturally talkative personality, it was true that both of you had fun talking to each other, but you had accepted that your love was unrequited ages ago. When would he have possibly fallen in love with you? The more you thought about it the more impossible it sounded. As thoughts of him circled your head, it’d be morning before you knew it.

It'd be hard for him to point out exactly when he fell in love with you, because he was in love before he knew it. Before he knew it, he'd catch himself following you with his eyes. He adored watching you work, because you made everything look exciting. Of course, he saw how you groaned at the paperwork you had to do, but he'd see how the little things would put a smile on your face.

He liked the work he did, he liked all of it quite frankly. From neutralizing kaiju all the way down to the research he had to do— rarely did he think something was a chore to do, but if you were around to laugh at something silly he found or mutter about the binders and binders of files that the 3rd division just doesn't have space for anymore, he'd start looking forward to these moments.

While he knew you were like this with everyone, he hoped that you were happiest with him. It would mean everything to him if you looked forward to doing seemingly mundane work with him too.

However, while he loved so much about you, there was one moment specifically that made him realize he wasn't moving on. His heart would be yours forever at this rate. You'd look so horribly tired after all this work, and yet, if someone needed help with anything at all, you'd still smile and ask them what's wrong. You'd find the energy and speak to them so kindly. You might not have the energy you usually had, but you'd be so happy to help. Even if they couldn't tell how exhausted you were, he could. He knew how much you did for everyone in the division, and he thought you were stunning when you did so. You were the most beautiful when you had that lovely smile on your face that seemed to light up his world.

He loved you so dearly.

You loved talking to people, so there always seemed to be something for you to talk about. A new finding you wanted to share or a terribly random thought that popped up in your head. While you naturally talked to most of the people in the division, you looked forward to talking to Hoshina the most. The way he'd always listen so intrigued at your dumbest thoughts and laugh at the smallest things you said meant more to you than one would probably think.

And if you shared your daily happenings with him, he'd share his with you too. To say you loved these moments would truly be an understatement. Nothing could possibly make you happier.

However, you knew he was like this with everyone. His laugh would always manage to keep the morale of the division up and he'd never miss potential problems in the condition of any of his officers. You knew he was a sweet person, but also the best one could ask for in a vice-captain. You weren't special— he was like this to everyone. You knew better than anyone else.

You couldn't imagine anyone falling for you, let alone the kindest person you'd ever meet in your life. Let alone the person you'd probably love for the rest of your life.

Yet, here you were, alone with him this afternoon working away through paperwork and it was quiet. Eerily quiet. He was the first to break the silence.

“I rather dislike the rain,” he said, looking out the window. “It’s been raining all day.”

You paused to look outside as well. “No, you’re right. I don’t mind the rain, but I hate how dark everything is.”

“Yeah,” he said. More silence.

“Sorry, I’m awkwardly nervous now,” he said, eyes fixed on his work. “I didn’t mean to make things… weird.”

You could tell he probably didn’t want you to, but you couldn’t help but look his way. Your eyes widened and your heart filled. You weren’t afraid to say much, but you were afraid to talk about this. However, you thought you’d be able to if you were talking to him.

“I just… can’t imagine that you’re… in love… with me,” you said, looking down at your paperwork. “Sounds too good to be true. I know... sounds unlike me, right?”

Immediately he looked up at you, shocked to say the least. You could tell he probably wanted to ask why, but he thought for a moment more.

“What… would I be able to do to show that I am?” he asked. “You’re the one I love… you always will be.”

Your eyes widened. “I just… don’t know why,” you said honestly. “Why me?”

“Because I love you,” he said. “I love a whole lot about you, but I love being with you. I enjoy spending time with you and watching you enjoy the life around you. Is that too simple?”

It took you a second to reply, but you felt a lot better. “No, not at all,” you said. “Because I feel exactly the same way.”

“You’re kidding”

“Absolutely not”

“I’m going to kill you if you’re lying,” he said.

That made you laugh. “You know I wouldn’t,” you said, and yes, he knew you wouldn’t.

“Hey, Hoshina,” you said, avoiding eye-contact. “If I get worried… will you tell me again?”

“I’d tell you until you get sick of my voice,” he said while getting up to kiss your forehead. “I love you so much.”

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wcnderlnds · 3 months ago

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stupid for you | peter maximoff

SUMMARY: you and peter fall out and he makes it up to you in his own peter way WORD COUNT: 928 WARNINGS: some swearing. A/N: idk what this is but writing peter is my fave so he gets all my dumb ideas ❤️ p.s. if the format sucks it’s bc im mobile.

It wasn’t like Peter had meant to upset you. Sometimes his mouth didn’t have a filter and he said things before even thinking about it so when he called you ‘annoying and needy’, he really didn’t mean it. He wasn’t that guy. He wasn’t the type of person to ever want to upset you or anyone for that matter. So when he’d seen you walk away hurt and upset, that had sent him right into action. He just had to make it up to you — make you see how important you really were to him. It gnawed at him inside that he’d been the one to make you feel that way. Never before had he ever felt so bad. So guilty.

He’d spent the whole day trying to think of what he could do to apologise then suddenly the idea hit him. Maybe it was a little stupid, maybe you’d completely hate it but he thought it’d be cool. Different. It’d be something him.

Meanwhile, you’d spent the day moping around the X-Mansion. The training session you’d had earlier had helped distract your mind but as soon as it was over, your thoughts drifted back to Peter. The fight the two of you had had been so stupid. All you’d done is made some comment about Peter needing to slow down for a minute and listen to you and it had spiralled from there. It wasn’t often the two of you argued. In fact, you never really had. In the whole six months you’d been dating things had been going smoothly. Things had been so easy going, so fun — it wasn’t really a surprise that something was bound to happen to ruin that. When things were going good there was always something that had to come along and mess it all up.

With a sigh, you started to head upstairs to your room when suddenly a blur of silver and blue rushed past you. Before you could even blink Peter was stood right in front of you, his hands hidden behind his back. Your arms wrapped around yourself as you looked at him. “Hi.”

Your nerves were mirrored in his face as he spoke. “Hey. Uh…”

The silence fell between you. It was awkward — something that didnt happen often when it came to you and Peter. Just as you were about to open your mouth to say something he began talking.

“Okay, just let me talk for a minute before I chicken out. I’m not good at this shit. I’m not the best at filtering the stuff that comes out of my mouth. That’s why I’m always getting myself in trouble. You know that but the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you. You gotta believe me on that one. If I could, I’d punch myself in the face. I mean, I could but… I can’t break the goods, y’know?” He laughed lightly, trying to ease the tension.

“It’s my fau-“

“Gonna have to stop you there, babe,” he said as he pulled one of his hands from behind his back and held it up to signal you to stop. “Can’t have you taking the fall on this one. It’s all me. A Maximoff fuck up special. That little switch people have in their brain where they tell themselves to shut up before they say something dumb? Yeah, turns out mine is broken. Probably wasn’t born with one actually. I’m not letting you feel bad for this. It’s all on me, okay? I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “It’s okay. You really don’t have to apo-“

“I do, I really do, though. Felt bad the second I said what I said. You’re not annoying and I love when you’re clingy. I love you wanting to be around me as much as I want to be around you. You caught me on one of those rare days where I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Maybe Scott even pissed in my cereal or something, who knows. Point is that I messed up.”

“Are you gonna stop cutting me off?” You asked, an amused look on your face as you listened to your boyfriends rambling.

“Oh shit, sorry. My bad. The floor is yours.”

“What I was trying to say was that you don’t need to apologise because I forgive you anyway. We’re gonna mess up sometimes and I know you didn’t mean it. It was just hearing it come from you that upset me, I guess. Anyone else I could take it but you? Your opinions and thoughts about me matter the most. Can we just forget about it and move on?”

“Sure, yeah… but first…” he finally pulled his hand from behind his back to produce a Lego bouquet of flowers. “These are for you and lemme tell you, it was hell trying to put this together.”

“…you got me Lego flowers?”

“Duh. This way they last forever and you won’t have to worry about watering them and you can always remember the time your boyfriend was a dumbass.”

You laughed, taking them from him. “How long did it take you to put it together?”

“Might have cheated and used the ol’ mutation but I kept messing up. Some of the pieces wouldn’t fit where I wanted them to and I almost got mad and thr-“

“There’s instructions, you know.”

“Are you gonna stop cutting me off?” He grinned, hands on his hips as he echoed your words from earlier.

”Smartass.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #quicksilver imagine #my fics #i hate posting stuff mobile but it’s past 10pm and ya girl is lazy

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sleepymarimo · 6 months ago

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➛ had some quick thoughts w toji and a barista!reader who works at a popular spot in tokyo

the first time you meet him, he’s getting his coffee paid for by a woman who looks a few years older than him. she exudes an aura of utter luxury, from her neatly painted nails to her leather purse.

he orders a coffee, black, giving you a glance, and that’s about it.

you don’t think much about the exchange, not really. so many customers come in to grab coffee, so another face isn’t a big deal.

yet, you start to notice him more and more. sometimes he comes in every week, maybe every other week, or a couple times a day- you never know. those deep green eyes and that rugged scar over his lip start to stand out to you, along with the company he brings in.

there seems to be a new woman with him each time. some are older, some are younger. they’re of all shapes and sizes, each with their own quirks.

and? they pay for him each time, without fail. you don’t even know his name, as his (what you assume to be) dates use their names for orders.

he starts to recognize you, too. his eyes pick up on something new each time, whether it be your new uniform or the stickers on your name tag. he comes when you’ve just opened, comes when you’re about to clock out.

when his dates happen to be particularly rude or fussy, he gives you a look that says “don’t ask.”

it gets to a point where you put in his order before he even reaches the front of the line.

you unknowingly become somewhat of a constant in his tumultuous life, and he doesn’t know if he likes it or not.

then, one day he comes in all by himself.

your fingers tap tap tap on your tablet, putting in an order for a single black coffee. there’s an awkward sort of tension as he stands before you, like you’re a stranger and acquaintance at the same time.

“hey,” he greets, picking up on how you look behind him, seeing if he’s brought in another woman. “just me today.”

you nod, pretending to start his order as if it’s not already inputted. “oh, okay! and to drink?”

a smirk grows on his face, a spark of challenge, of interest, in his eyes that you didn’t see with any other of the women he’s came in with. “you already know,” he speaks, confident.

ignoring how your cheeks warm, you smile and get out a laugh, looking away. “black coffee, got it,” you respond, thinking to yourself that this is the most you’ve spoken to him. “anything else?”

he clears his throat, reaching for a wad of cash tucked away in his pocket. “yeah,” comes his voice, deep, almost a rumble, a smidge of reluctance. “whatever ya want. y’er off in a few, aren’t ya? i was thinkin’ we could grab a table. talk.”

and maybe it’s your curiosity. or maybe you’re flattered by the fact that he’s actually paying for your coffee.

either way, you give him a smile and put in your order. “yeah, i’m just about done,” you reply, starting to feel excited for your chat with him. “and the name for the order?”

he’s pleased, a glimmer of satisfaction in his gaze as he hands you a few bills. “toji.”

#toji fluff #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #toji x reader #sorry I’m on mobile rn no computer 😖#do you see my vision

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koolades-world · 6 months ago

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how much begging would it take to let mc play with barbatos’ hair. i just wanna give him two little pig tails

if it's mc, honestly i don't think too much! he's got such a soft spot for this human that basically barreled into his life headfirst haha

With a cherry on top?

"Barb! Please?" You trailed after him, a small container of hair styling tools in hand. He didn't answer, glancing back at you, an amused look on his face. "It's be so cute and fun I promise!" You shook the little box with vigor.

"I've got duties to attend to, Mc. I'm afraid I don't have time." Barbatos look as if he was holding in a laugh.

“If you let me do your hair, I’ll help out for the rest of the day?” You offered. You knew he didn’t need your help, but you really wanted to mess with his hair, and you’d get to spent more time with him.

“Are you sure? I still have a long list of duties to attend to today, and I expect you to put your all into them as well.” He glanced back at you, but didn’t stop walking.

“I promise! Besides, if we work together, it’ll get done faster and we can spend time together.” You gave him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster. He cracked a small smile.

“Very well. You may do as you see fit.” Barbatos led you over to a nearby seating area and sat down.

“Yay! I promise I won’t be long!” You happily knelt beside him on the sofa and began your work.

By the time you were done with him, he looked almost like an uncle who let his niece do whatever she pleased with his hair. You’d pulled up his hair into two little pigtails, each with a different colored hair tie. They were a little lopsided, both because of you and because of his uneven hair length. You had adorned his bangs with multiple, brightly colored barrettes and hair pins. To complete the look, you’d added a small, glittery hair extension that was probably meant to be braided in to both pigtails.

The little D’s that has gathered around you complimented you on your work, all begging you to do them next. “Now, don’t you all have work to be doing as well? We can revisit this later, hmm?” With Barb’s words, they all scattered at being called out, leaving just the two of you.

“We have no time to waste, Mc. Our first task is to grout the tiles in young Master’s bathroom.” The same smile from before still adorned his face, just a little more smug looking.

“Let’s take a picture together first! I want to savor this forever. You look adorable!” You raised your D.D.D. After making sure he was looking at the camera, you snapped a quick photo. He was never going to be able to live this down, but, he’d do anything if it was for you.

#on mobile rn! sorry for any mistakes and will add barb’s green later #currently redesigning my room and my writing desk is a mess #so I just did it on my phone lol #obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me barbatos #obey me barb #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me! shall we date #drabble #gn reader

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katsukiizmoon · 1 year ago

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╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🌶 ┊k.bkg + birth control begone ꒱

『♡』 Stopping birth control has turned you into something akin to an insatiable succubus.

『♡』 @crybaby-bkg for the idea because she made an original post that heavily inspired this ! I stopped my birth control one time and stopped feeling attracted to my at the time boyfriend of almost two years Lmaoooo but anyways! This is like way fucking longer than I thought it would be.

『♡』 18+, mild scenting kink??, idk it’s like not abo but but like ..mm, raw sex,, mating press, breeding, mild degredation, pussy eating, one orgasm denial, finger sucking, biting, established relationship, f! Reader, squirting, some marking / biting

The idea was his. Birth control made you sluggish and less alive almost. He didn’t like seeing it, watching you struggle with certain symptoms. Over the years, he reached out to different contacts for an alternative. There were none, unfortunately.

Part of it was wanting to take burden off of you and your body. You’d been exhausted of the headaches and fatigue. Random ups and downs with your weight was beginning to cause confidence issues. So you stopped taking it.

And god, you’re thriving.

Katsuki piddles with the pen in his hand and watches tv. The blue light of the screen no match for the warmth of daylight. Click click click. He clicks the side of it, mild frown gracing his features at the characters on the screen.

Your head lays on the expanse of his chest. Tan skin against your own, cheek smooshed against the muscle there, listening to his pretty little thump of a heartbeat. His beefy arm relaxes on top of your body and rubs minuscule circles near your hip bone.

It’s relaxing. It’s peaceful.

Until your nose nudges near his throat and you inhale deeply. The skin of his neck is soft and smells so much like honey that your mouth begins to water. Heat pools in the pits of your tummy slowly as you press in and inhale again.

“What’re you doin brat?” The blonde sighs, thick brow raised and eyes flitting over to you.

Your tongue traces a little line up from his collar bone to his jaw. Suddenly the characters on screen don’t make much sense, haze slowly seeping into the air of your apartment. His cock begins to stir in his sweats, eyes flicking toward you again and tongue sweeping over the plush of his lips.

“M’ just.. you smell so good baby..” You drawl, nipping at the skin near his jaw a little. Your hand slides down the planes of his torso, low purr forming in the back of your throat, excitement building.

Katsuki snorts, “I smell good?” He tilts his head a bit and groans lowly, allowing you to have your way for now, letting you play.

You nod while sucking a purple mark on his collar bone. A shiver runs up and down his spine at the feeling of your nimble fingers sliding over the fabric, palming at his semi. His lips open to let out a puff of air and before he can blink you’re on top of him. Panties pressed against the fabric covering his cock, pussy slowly leaking and soaking through the threads.

“God you smell so good— makes me wanna lick every part of you and suck you dry.” You coo,hips rocking forward and lips finding his. He just smells so.. so him. It feels so good to smell like him.

“Oh—“

You’re rutting against him like a bitch in heat. He doesn’t know how the two of you got here this fast— you sniffed his neck and suddenly now you’re dry humping him like your life fucking depends on it. And god he loves it, he just eats it up.

Katsuki’s cock is so hard now that the pen is tossed to the ground. He focuses on the way your mouth feels against his, his tongue sliding toward your own, the way you taste. The dampness against his sweats is beginning to soak through. Precum leaks from the head of his cock and he bucks up toward you.

“God baby— what’s gotten into you hmm?” Thick fingers reach toward your panties, swiping over the soaked area. He groans and curses to himself before slipping them beneath the fabric and toward your clit.

The moan you let out makes his body heat up a few degrees. Sweat beads up on him and the smell has your pussy squeezing around nothing. You lean back and he lays you down on the couch and yanks the panties off of you. Before you can give him an answer his tongue is licking stripes through your folds.

You feel almost intoxicated. Possessive, high on him, obsessed with becoming part of him— you can’t describe it. But he smells just enough like heaven to make you sin.

Your pussy squelches when two of his fingers enter, feeling around and pushing in and out. His tongue circles your clit, lips wrapping around to suck. And he’s on cloud nine.

Ever since you’ve been off birth control it’s been like this. You pounce on him when he’s least expecting it, beg him to fuck cum into you, and then walk around in his clothing for hours after.

Your hips buck and your fingers grip wheat colored strands of hair like he’s your lifeline. Like he’s the only thing keeping you on earth, but your heart pounds in your ears and something similar to a coil is tightening in your tummy. Slick juice spills from you and onto the poor couch below despite Katsuki trying in earnest to lick it all up.

It feels good, it sounds good, it smells good— he’s got fingers in your pussy and his tongue lapping up juices. He eats like he’s starving every time, placing a little smack on your ass when you squirm a bit too much. Cherry irises look up to you, watching your face scrunch and your jaw drop. The coil feels like it’s about to snap, your toes starting to curl as you press your pussy against his face more. You’re practically using his tongue like a toy, rubbing yourself against his mouth and begging like a desperate whore.

And then he stops and sends you into a hissy fit. Your oversized tshirt is snatched off of you, tossed to the side.

“Katsuki what the fu-“

His fingers are shoved into your mouth before you can finish. One hand coming to palm with the mound of your breast as he now looks down at you.

“You see how you taste baby? Taste so fuckin good—“ He licks his lips, pulling his fingers out with a wet pop sound.

You look at him in a daze, fucked out and confused. Your orgasm ripped from your hands and the smell of caramel and honey thick in the room. You consider clawing at him, sinking your teeth down, finding a way to smell like him forever.

He uses a hand to guide his cock toward your slick folds, sliding the weight through them and against your clit. Sweat beads on his temples and chest while his pants are pulled down to his knees. And you’re losing it.

“Hnn fuck, fuck, baby I need it” you babble.

His cock sheathes in one fluid motion, burying to the hilt. Both his meaty hands push your legs up toward your shoulders and he’s so close your senses are flooded. It’s overwhelming, feeling him this close.

“Hahh.. pretty little thing.” Katsuki rasps, slamming his hips forward and up. He’s so deep that the tip of his precum covered length presses against your cervix. And oh, it makes him dizzy. A little too excited, too ballsy.

“Oh fuck me, god you’re in my belly— cmere baby,” You babble nearly incoherently and card your fingers through his hair and pull him in. Your nose nuzzles against his neck and you inhale again, getting high off it. It’s like you can feel it seeping into your veins, becoming part of you.

His dick is always so weighty, pushing up and pounding into your pussy. Squelching and clapping, frothing lightly at the base while you dig your nails into one of his shoulders. His eyes meet yours and keep the contact, like he’s swallowing your soul whole and replacing it with part of his.

“Yeah? You wanna be stuck with me forever don’t you? Bet you want to be scented and stuffed full of cum till you’re pregnant huh?” He pistons his hips up and holds you there, pressing down on your lower tummy a little like he can feel himself there. You make a desperate noise, realizing he took a peek into one of the books you read recently— and something you starts to snap.

“Yeah, yeah, god yeah I do ‘kats!” Your nails dig deeper into his shoulders and you sink your teeth into his neck.

He slams in again, so deep and hard it nearly hurts, and you fall apart. Your jaw clamps down, nails dragging across his shoulders and eyes rolling back while you take in his scent. It wafts around the room and makes you float. You can taste it, you swear, like caramel melting in your mouth.

Clear substance spurts from your pussy and all over your tummy and his. The blonde watches in awe with his abs flexing to still himself as you finish. Your pussy squeezes him and sucks him in so much he can’t stop himself.

He buries himself to the hilt and pushes his cock against your cervix. His head throws back, eyes squeezing shut as the air is taken from his lungs. The bite on his throat hurts and makes him dizzy in the best ways. His balls tighten, hands squeezing at your body as he cums.

“Oh fuck.” He whines, groaning and panting.

Cum fills your pussy up to the brim, slowly leaking out as he stays inside the heat. You begin to relax your jaw and lick at his throat like an apology. Your nose nudges near his jaw and you begin to unravel yourself from him.

Katsuki’s hair sticks to his forehead, he pants and pulls out, laying on top of you. The two of you lay like that for a while before he’s pulling up his sweats with a breathy laugh.

“God you pounced on me, you perv!” He snickers, poking the side of your tummy while you lay under him and look for your shirt.

“Yeah well you read my damn book!” You sit up, tossing on the shirt and grinning with a brow raised. He turns a little pink and rolls his eyes.

“That ain’t the point! Dammit, just gimme a kiss .” The blonde snorts, leaning over toward you and kissing your lips lightly. He still tastes like your pussy and you still taste like his sweat.

He’ll talk to you about it later. Maybe— just needs to let you sniff him a bunch again. Then he can pop quiz you, ask you what the fixation is about. You’ll deny it for a minute, but you can’t hide the pink on your cheeks when he comes in sweaty from work.

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fangdokja · 3 days ago

Text

You’re his sister, but to him, you’re everything he’ll never let go of.

❤︎ Synopsis. Trapped in his obsession, your brother’s love is a cage—burning, possessive, and unyielding. Every kiss is a claim, every touch a warning. You’re his, and he’ll make sure the world knows it.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Older Brother x Reader

♡ Novelette. Sins of the Silent Heart - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 6,926

♡ TW. incest, unhealthy power dynamics, toxic relationship, spanking and slapping, emotional and psychological manipulation, social isolation, non-con kissing, physical assault and abuse

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving minors, some plot details of the original story were changed to fit the platform. If you want the true original story, please look at the author's official website or Ao3.

The dim yellow glow of the bedside lamp painted long, jagged shadows across the walls, distorting the once-familiar room into a grotesque parody of safety. His room—a chaotic vortex of textbooks, rumpled sheets, and the faint scent of stale cologne—now felt like a predator’s den, with you caught squarely in its jaws. The door clicked shut behind you with an almost mocking finality, the latch’s soft groan a promise of no escape.

He stood near the bed, his back to you, shoulders tense as if bracing for an internal war. His silhouette was a study in contradiction—strong, protective lines now cast in a menacing, foreboding light. The distant hum of the world beyond the house seemed to mock the thick silence between you, punctuated only by the rasp of his uneven breathing.

“Why are you here?” His voice cut through the stillness like a blade, low and clipped, every syllable weighted with restraint.

“I… I just wanted to talk.” Your words wavered, the carefully rehearsed lines evaporating under his icy stare when he turned, his eyes locking onto yours.

Those eyes, once a sanctuary of warmth during countless childhood nights, now held a glacial fury, as if he blamed you for some unseen torment. But beneath the chill was something darker, something that churned like a black hole, swallowing reason and morality whole. You couldn’t name it, but you could feel it—a suffocating, primal pull that made your stomach twist and your legs stiffen.

“I’ve been busy,” he said curtly, turning back to his desk, dismissing you as easily as one might swat away an insect. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I miss you.” The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, a desperate attempt to breach the widening chasm between you. “I thought—now that we’re both here—maybe we could…” Your voice faltered as he turned again, this time slowly, deliberately, like a predator circling prey.

“Miss me?” he repeated, his lips curving into a bitter smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t even know me anymore.”

The accusation hit harder than you expected, making your chest tighten. “That’s why I’m here,” you murmured, your hands clenching at your sides. “To know you again.”

He barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless. “Know me?” His gaze raked over you, lingering in a way that made your skin crawl. “You wouldn’t want that. Trust me.”

His words were a warning, but they only fueled your resolve. You stepped closer, driven by the memory of the brother who once held your hand during thunderstorms, who stayed up late helping you with your homework, who always told you everything would be okay. “You’re still my brother,” you said softly, pleadingly.

“Don’t,” he growled, his voice suddenly sharp, his hand twitching as if to reach for you but stopping short. “Don’t call me that.”

The air between you grew oppressive, thick with unspoken truths. Your heart pounded as his gaze darkened, his pupils blown wide as they drank you in. For a moment, his mask of indifference cracked, and what lay beneath made your stomach churn.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice was low, almost gentle, but it carried the weight of a confession. “The way you look at me? The way you follow me around like a lost kitten?” He took a step closer, and you instinctively backed into the wall, your breath hitching. “You’ve always needed me. Always depended on me. And now you think you can waltz in here and what? Fix everything? Fix me?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Shut up.” His voice cut through your protest like a whip. He was close now, too close, his breath hot against your cheek. The smell of him—faintly metallic, tinged with sweat—wrapped around you like a suffocating shroud. “You don’t know the first thing about me, about what I’ve done. About the things I think about when I look at you.”

The room seemed to tilt, the floor buckling under the weight of his words. “I… I don’t understand,” you stammered, your voice barely audible.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he sneered, his hand shooting out to brace against the wall beside your head, caging you in. “Because you’re pure. Untouched. You don’t know what it’s like to carry this...this sickness. To want something you can never fucking have.”

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the frantic pounding of your heart. His confession hung in the air like a noose, tightening around your throat.

“I tried,” he continued, his voice shaking now, the cracks in his facade spreading. “I tried to stay away. To forget. Do you know how many women I’ve fucked trying to scrub you out of my head? But it doesn’t work. It never fucking works.” His hand slid down the wall, his knuckles brushing against your shoulder. “You’re in here,” he said, tapping his temple, then his chest. “In here. Like a damn parasite.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “Why are you saying this?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why now?”

“Because you’re here,” he said simply, his lips curling into a twisted smile. “Because you walked into my fucking room and looked at me like that. Like I’m still the hero you remember. Like I haven’t been corrupted.”

“You’re scaring me,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

“Good,” he replied, his tone soft but laced with menace. “You should be scared. Because if you stay, I don’t know if I can stop myself.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the room charged with a tension so thick it was suffocating. Then, with a suddenness that made you flinch, he stepped back, raking a hand through his hair. “Get out,” he growled, his voice rough and uneven. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your hands fumbled with the doorknob, your legs barely supporting you as you stumbled out of the room. As the door slammed shut behind you, the last thing you heard was the sound of his ragged breathing, a haunting symphony of longing and despair.

────────────

It began in your first year of university, with a joke. A harmless, stupid, throwaway line.

"Hey, your sister's cute. Maybe I'll ask her out when she’s older."

You hadn’t been there to hear it. Maybe that was for the best. He’d laughed then, a sound so casual it might have fooled anyone listening. “Don’t even think about it,” he’d said, shoving his friend’s shoulder as if it were all a joke. But deep down, something had snapped into place.

It wasn’t anger, exactly—not yet. Just a quiet, simmering unease that he didn’t understand.

You were always close to him, always lingering just at the edge of his vision, a constant part of his life. He was your older brother; it was natural. He was protective—maybe a little too much so. But wasn’t that what older brothers were supposed to be? That’s what he told himself whenever he felt the strange, uncomfortable tightness in his chest.

It only became a problem the day he saw you with someone else.

It was late autumn, and the world was painted in muted tones of orange and gray. He’d been walking to the library to pick you up when he saw you standing beneath a streetlamp with a boy.

The sight froze him in place.

You were holding a notebook, pointing to something on the page, explaining something with that calm, patient expression you always wore. The boy leaned in, his eyes never leaving your face.

And that was when he felt it. That sick, twisting feeling in his gut. The way the boy looked at you—like he wanted something. Like he thought he deserved something.

His hands clenched into fists, the sharp bite of his nails grounding him just enough to keep him from storming over. He didn’t know what he’d say if he did. What excuse could he possibly give?

Instead, he stayed hidden in the shadows, watching as you finished your tutoring session. The boy lingered too long, said something that made you smile faintly, and then finally walked away.

You didn’t even notice him standing there. You just closed your notebook, adjusted the strap of your bag, and walked off as if nothing had happened.

He followed you home that day, keeping a careful distance.

After that, it was as though something inside him had cracked open.

He told himself it was normal to be worried. You were too trusting, too naive. You didn’t see the way people looked at you. You didn’t realize how vulnerable you were. Someone had to protect you—someone who knew you better than anyone else.

But it wasn’t just about protection anymore.

It was about possession.

He tried to ignore it at first. Tried to tell himself it was nothing. But every time he saw you leave to meet that boy, his anger simmered just a little hotter. It didn’t matter that you were only tutoring him. It didn’t matter that you weren’t interested. He could see the way the boy looked at you, the way he lingered when you weren’t paying attention.

He started watching you more closely after that. You didn’t notice—of course, you didn’t. You never seemed to notice anything when it came to him.

When you weren’t around, he buried himself in distractions. He went out with his friends, dated girls who were nothing like you, did anything he could to drown out the thoughts that haunted him. But it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

Every laugh, every touch, every kiss felt wrong. None of them were you.

By the time you started your second year of university, and him at his Master's, he’d perfected the art of keeping his distance. He didn’t want you to see the way he looked at you, didn’t want you to know the things he thought about late at night when he was alone.

But keeping his distance didn’t mean he stopped watching. He always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were doing.

You were his. Even if you didn’t know it.

Another day, he caught you talking to someone else. Another boy. It didn’t matter that the conversation was casual, that you barely even smiled. All he could think about was how easily someone else could take you away from him.

When you came home that evening, he didn’t say a word. You didn’t ask why he was so quiet, why he avoided your gaze, why his knuckles were red and raw as if he’d been punching something—or someone.

You never asked questions like that.

Maybe you should have.

Now, standing in his room, he runs his hands through his hair, staring at the picture of you on his desk. It’s an innocent photo, one taken years ago during a family trip. But to him, it’s more than that.

It’s proof. Proof that you belong to him. Proof that no one else has the right to take you away.

He knows he can’t keep this up forever. He knows the truth will come out eventually.

But when it does?

You won’t have a choice.

────────────

It began with distance. He thought it would fix things—make him normal again, make you normal again. He pulled back, growing cold and indifferent, watching you from a distance as you stumbled through life. You didn’t even notice, did you? How he deliberately stopped answering your questions with warmth, how he only gave you clipped, efficient replies. How he didn’t teach you the things he should have, the things that would have made you stronger.

You didn’t need friends. He made sure of that.

He liked it that way—your awkwardness, your inability to connect with others. It kept you safe. It kept you his.

But then...

Then, he saw the change.

You became distracted, eyes far away, your lips twitching into little half-smiles when you thought no one was looking. At first, he ignored it. Told himself it didn’t matter. But then he started noticing the way you doodled during your free time, how your handwriting softened, curling into childish hearts.

And then the name.

Daniel.

The rage that erupted in his chest was immediate, primal. He wasn’t proud of how quickly he found your diary, how thoroughly he read every naïve, saccharine line.

"Daniel held my book today! He smiled at me, I think! Maybe I’ll ask him to the dance? Would he say yes? It’s stupid, but I think we’d make a great match."

You wrote about your future. About marriage. Little plans you hid in the margins of your notebook like some ridiculous fairytale.

Marriage, when you didn’t even know what it meant. When you’d never spared him, the one who’s protected you your entire life, that warm, shy smile.

He could’ve broken your door when he threw it open that night. You weren’t even there to hear the sound splinter through the silence, or see the way he stood there, shaking, fists clenched white-knuckled. He tore through your things after that—pictures, scraps of paper, clothes—he wanted to find anything, anything that might explain why you’d betrayed him like this.

You didn’t have the right to want someone else. You barely knew what you wanted! That boy didn’t even like you. Couldn’t you see it?

The world saw you as the awkward, strange little thing you’d always been. And he liked it that way. It kept the wolves at bay. He kept the wolves at bay.

But this boy? This Daniel? He didn’t even look at you the way you thought he did. He didn’t deserve your thoughts, your shy little fantasies. He deserved nothing.

When you finally confessed to the boy, he was there.

He’d hidden in the shadows like a predator waiting for the right moment. Watching as you stood there, clutching that stupid notebook to your chest, stammering over your words.

Daniel’s rejection was inevitable. His awkward laugh, his half-hearted apology—it was all so predictably pathetic. But you didn’t stop there.

Even after being turned down, you followed him. Like a kitten, tail wagging, desperate for scraps of affection. The same way you used to follow him.

That night, he didn’t go home. He didn’t sleep.

His body ached, torn between the raw heat of his anger and the cold clarity of his realization.

You’d never shown interest in romance before. Never spared anyone those soft looks, those quiet smiles. Not until now. And the thought of you giving that warmth—his warmth—to someone else?

He didn’t just want to destroy Daniel.

He wanted to destroy you.

You traitorous, ungrateful little bitch.

The next time he saw you, you didn’t notice anything was wrong. How could you?

“Hey,” you’d said softly, the same way you always did when you weren’t sure if you were bothering him. He didn’t reply.

Instead, he crossed the room in slow, deliberate steps. You flinched when he cupped your face, his fingers rough against your skin.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” His voice was calm, too calm, each word slicing through the silence like a blade.

You blinked up at him, confused, your lips parting to stammer out a reply. But he didn’t let you.

“Do you think he could protect you the way I have? Do you think he even sees you? You’re so... stupid.” His grip tightened, just enough to make you gasp. “But I’ll fix that.”

That night, he showed you what it meant to belong to someone.

There was nothing gentle in the way he touched you. Nothing kind. It wasn’t love—not in the way you’d dreamed it would be.

It was sharp edges and whispered threats. The suffocating weight of his body pinning yours to the mattress, his breath hot against your ear as he murmured things too dark to repeat.

“I’ll make sure you never think of him again,” he growled, his voice low and venomous.

You cried. He didn’t stop.

Because you were his. And no one else deserved to have you—not even you.

The next morning, he watched as you sat silently at the table, your hands trembling as you picked at your breakfast.

You didn’t look at him.

Good.

He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a satisfied smile.

“You’ll thank me one day,” he said, his tone light and conversational, as if nothing had happened. “You’ll see.”

But in the dim light of the kitchen, his eyes glinted with something darker.

Something permanent.

────────────

He hadn’t kissed you that night. He hadn’t touched you—not in the way he craved. That would come later.

Instead, he had punished you.

The memory played like a cracked film reel in his mind, skipping over the sound of your muffled cries, the way your body jolted with every strike of his hand. He’d treated it like a lesson, hadn’t he? A father disciplining a wayward child, nothing more.

Except it was so much more.

Each tear that slipped down your cheeks, each broken sob, fed something primal inside him. It made him feel strong, in control—your trembling figure draped across his lap, your protests falling to deaf ears.

“You need to understand,” he had murmured between blows, his voice calm, deliberate. “You don’t need anyone else. You don’t get to have anyone else.”

It wasn’t until your body went limp, your resolve shattered, that he finally stopped. His hand lingered against your flushed skin, his breathing uneven. He could feel the temptation coiling inside him, the desire to leave more than just a warning.

But he didn’t.

He wouldn’t.

Not yet.

You were still too young, too delicate, and he loved you too much to break you completely.

In the days that followed, you clung to him like you always had. The defiance in your eyes was gone, replaced by a docile obedience that filled him with both satisfaction and guilt.

It was better this way. No friends, no distractions.

Just the two of you, the way it had always been.

────────────

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving him alone in the suffocating quiet of his room.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, fingers digging into his scalp as he exhaled sharply.

He could feel the cracks spreading, the fragile dam of restraint he’d built over the years threatening to shatter. You were older now—no longer the awkward, wide-eyed girl he’d once protected. You were beautiful, maddeningly so, and every time he looked at you, he could feel his self-control slipping.

But what was he supposed to do?

His parents had never cared, not about him, not about you. The only thing that mattered to them was the profit you both could generate. He doubted they’d even notice if he crossed the line.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

His gaze drifted to the doorway you’d just passed through, his chest tightening with something dark and suffocating.

He could take you now if he wanted to. No one would stop him. No one would care.

But he cared.

He loved you in a way that terrified him, a way that left him tangled in knots of lust and guilt and longing. He wanted you—to keep you, to claim you, to destroy anyone who dared look at you the wrong way. But more than that, he wanted you to love him the way he loved you.

And that’s where the conflict lay.

Would you still look at him with those soft, trusting eyes if you knew what he was thinking? Would you still cling to his arm, still smile at him, still call him brother if you knew the truth?

Or would you hate him?

The thought sent a shiver of rage and despair through him, his hands clenching into fists.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal.

What was the point of waiting?

Every moment he held back felt like agony, his need for you consuming him piece by piece. You were already his, in every way that mattered. You’d been his from the start, long before you even realized it.

He stopped in front of the mirror, his reflection glaring back at him—a predator barely leashed, a man fighting against the very instincts that defined him.

He exhaled slowly, his lips curling into a dark, humorless smile.

“As long as I don’t get caught, right?” he muttered, his voice dripping with bitter irony.

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

When he finally left the room, his mind was made up.

He’d wait, just a little longer. Long enough for you to grow even more dependent on him, long enough for you to forget whatever fleeting fantasies you’d once harbored about other men.

And when the time came, when there was no doubt in your mind that he was the only one who could ever love you, he’d take what was his.

Until then, he’d bide his time.

But God help anyone who got in the way.

You were his. And soon, you’d know it too.

────────────

Classes had started like any other semester. Despite sharing a dorm, he and you had kept your distance—a mutual, unspoken agreement that suited both of you.

On the surface, things appeared normal.

He excelled as always, juggling academics, sports, and a parade of temporary girlfriends like it was nothing. You thrived in your own way, delving into the competitive grind of your entrepreneurship course with an unrelenting focus. To the outside world, you were two strangers, bound only by circumstance. No one would guess you were siblings, much less tied by anything deeper.

And that was fine by him.

As long as you stayed close—within reach—he could tolerate the cold distance between you.

It began as a flicker, a subtle shift in your demeanor that most would have missed.

You’d always been poised, calm, your expressions muted and unreadable, much like his own. But lately, there was something else—an irritation simmering beneath the surface, barely contained. You’d still wear that neutral, aloof mask, but he could see through it.

At first, he dismissed it. Maybe you were stressed. Maybe it was nothing.

But then he noticed the reason.

It was another guy.

The bastard was a thorn in your side, a so-called academic rival who had taken to hounding you relentlessly. He was obnoxious and petty, constantly goading you with thinly veiled insults and challenges.

Initially, he’d thought it might be a good thing—an opportunity for you to toughen up, to learn not to rely on him or anyone else.

How fucking naive he’d been.

The longer he watched, the more he understood.

The interloper didn’t even realize he liked you, not yet, but the signs were there. The way he hovered around you, the excuses he made to stay close, the looks that lingered too long—it was all obvious to him.

What infuriated him most was you.

You, who never cared about anyone. You, who had always kept your distance from people, brushing off their advances without a second thought.

You weren’t pushing the bastard away.

You tolerated him, even seemed to accept his presence, and that made his blood boil.

He told himself it didn’t matter.

No need to make a scene. No need to draw attention.

But it gnawed at him, day by day, that stupid fucker sticking to your side like a damn parasite. He could feel it building inside him, a storm of frustration and possessiveness he couldn’t fully suppress.

And then it happened.

You were late for dinner one evening, and his annoyance was already simmering by the time he went looking for you. He’d told himself he was only checking in because it was still his responsibility to take care of you.

That’s what he told himself.

He found you in an empty classroom.

And you weren’t alone.

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The moment he saw you with him, it was as if the ground beneath his feet had shifted.

At first, it was confusion—a fleeting, disorienting moment where he didn’t fully understand what he was looking at. The interloper, leaning closer, his expression soft and open, the kind of look reserved for someone you cherished. You.

You, standing there, not moving, not rejecting him. Your hand was still, almost brushing against his, your lips parted as if you might speak—or worse, respond.

The first spike of jealousy hit him like a blade.

Not the dull ache of annoyance he’d felt when you first started tolerating this bastard’s presence. No, this was different. This was visceral. It clawed at him, shredding through his carefully constructed self-control until all that remained was raw, unfiltered rage.

His pulse roared in his ears, a deafening drumbeat that drowned out reason. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms hard enough to draw blood. He could feel the metallic tang of it on his tongue, sharp and bitter, mixing with the bile rising in his throat.

He’d always prided himself on being in control. He wasn’t some reckless animal, driven by instinct or emotion. He was better than that. Smarter than that.

But watching that fucking bastard lean closer to you—watching you let him—it unraveled something inside him.

This wasn’t just anger. This wasn’t just possessiveness.

This was a deep, gnawing sickness, a jealousy so consuming it felt like his very soul was being eaten alive.

He couldn’t stand the way the interloper looked at you, like you were something pure and delicate. Like you were a prize to be won.

That was his.

You were his.

The thought burned through him, scorching and absolute.

He’d spent years keeping you close, making sure no one else could reach you, molding your world so that he was at the center of it. And yet, here you were, letting this pathetic excuse of a man step into the space that only he should occupy.

It was a betrayal.

And you—oh, you—were just as much to blame.

You, who never cared for anyone. You, who always kept your distance, your heart locked away. You, who had followed him like a shadow for so long, who had looked at him with that shy, adoring gaze that made him feel untouchable.

Now you were looking at someone else.

And it wasn’t just the look—it was your body language, the way you leaned ever so slightly into the interloper’s space. The way your eyes softened, your lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile.

He wanted to rip that expression off your face.

Not because it didn’t suit you—it did. It was beautiful. It made his heart ache.

But because it wasn’t for him.

The jealousy twisted, dark and monstrous, until it became something else entirely.

He didn’t just want to destroy the interloper.

He wanted to destroy you.

Not completely—no, never completely. You were his, after all. But he wanted to shatter this version of you, the one who dared to look at someone else with warmth. The one who dared to let someone else get close.

He wanted to strip you down to nothing and rebuild you in his image, piece by trembling piece, until there was no room for anyone else.

And then the bastard leaned in closer, and the room seemed to tilt.

The distance between you shrank, his lips hovering just above yours.

────────────

You were letting it happen.

Something inside him snapped.

Before he realized it, he was moving. The door slammed open with a deafening crash, and the interloper jerked back, startled, his face paling when he saw the storm etched into his expression.

“Hey, man—”

The words barely left the bastard’s lips before his fist collided with his jaw, the sickening crunch of bone echoing in the empty room. The impact sent the other man sprawling, blood pooling from his broken nose as he groaned in shock and pain.

“Stay. Away.” His voice was low, lethal, the kind of tone that promised far worse if the warning wasn’t heeded.

The room was silent except for the ragged breathing of the crumpled figure at his feet.

He turned to you then, his chest heaving, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

You stood frozen, wide-eyed and pale, your lips parted in disbelief.

“Get up,” he barked, his tone sharp, brooking no argument. “We’re leaving.”

You didn’t move, still staring at the man on the floor, and something in him snapped again.

He crossed the distance between you in two strides, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him with enough force to make you stumble.

“I said, we’re leaving.” His voice was quieter this time, but the edge of danger was unmistakable.

Your gaze finally shifted to him, your eyes searching his face for something—an explanation, a reassurance, anything.

But all you found was rage.

As he dragged you out of the room, his grip unyielding, his mind raced.

This wasn’t over. Not even close.

You had betrayed him. Again.

And this time, he wasn’t sure he could let it slide.

No one else gets to have you. No one.

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The door to your shared dorm slammed shut behind you with a bone-jarring finality. The echo reverberated in the small space, amplifying the oppressive silence that followed. You winced, clutching your throbbing wrist where his grip had bruised it. But before you could pull away, his hand was on you again, relentless and unyielding.

“Let go,” you hissed, yanking your arm back, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound resolute. The command only seemed to enrage him further.

His response was immediate, a blur of motion and a sting that burned like fire across your cheek. The force sent you staggering, your knees hitting the cold floor as your vision swam. Pain blossomed, sharp and unrelenting, and you tasted copper on your tongue.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” His voice, usually so measured, so cold, was now raw and trembling with fury. He loomed over you, a monolith of rage, his shadow swallowing you whole. “Did you really think I wouldn’t see? Wouldn’t know?”

You pressed a trembling hand to your face, the sting of his slap radiating through your skull. You glared up at him, defiance flickering like a dying ember in your tear-filled eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” you spat, your voice quaking as you pushed yourself up. “I didn’t do anything!”

The words barely left your mouth before his hand shot out, tangling viciously in your hair. He yanked your head back, forcing you to meet his wild, unhinged gaze.

“Didn’t do anything?” he snarled, his face so close you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His lips twisted into a cruel smile that sent chills racing down your spine. “You let him touch you. You let him. Are you that desperate? That much of a pathetic little whore?”

You choked on a gasp as he tightened his grip, pulling hard enough to send a bolt of pain down your neck. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice dropped to a deadly whisper, the calm before the storm. “I saw it. You didn’t push him away. You didn’t stop him.”

“You’re wong,” you bit out, your voice trembling with fury and fear. “You’re imagining things that aren’t there—”

Another slap cut your words short, sharper this time, enough to knock the breath from your lungs. You crumpled again, your cheek pressed against the floor, and before you could recover, his hand was back, dragging you up like a ragdoll.

“Do you spread your legs for anyone who pays attention to you?” he hissed, his voice venomous, laced with a dangerous kind of desperation. “Are you really that easy? That desperate for it?”

You glared at him through the haze of pain and tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. But he wasn’t looking for defiance. He was looking for submission.

For proof that you were his, and his alone.

His free hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. His expression was a terrifying mix of fury and something else—something far darker, far more possessive.

“Say it,” he growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Say you’re mine. Say it, or so help me, I’ll make sure no one ever looks at you again.”

You opened your mouth to retort, to scream, but the words caught in your throat as his grip tightened, cutting off your air.

“Say. It.”

The room spun, your vision blurring as the oxygen left your lungs. Panic set in, and your resolve began to crumble. You clawed at his arm, your body trembling with the effort to stay conscious.

“Yours,” you gasped, barely audible, but it was enough.

His grip loosened just enough to let you breathe, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“Good girl.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, a sickening mix of relief and terror. His grip in your hair eased, but only to drag you closer, his arms encircling you in a cage of muscle and iron will.

“Don’t make me do this again,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less threatening. “I don’t like hurting you. But I will if that’s what it takes to keep you.”

You stayed silent, too shaken to respond, your body trembling in his grasp. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t over. This was only the beginning of the storm.

────────────

Without another word, his lips slammed onto yours, a bruising, punishing kiss that stole what little breath you had left. Your eyes widened in shock, and you squirmed, thrashing against his iron hold, but it only seemed to fuel him further. His teeth bit down hard on your lower lip, drawing blood, and his tongue invaded your mouth with an almost feral desperation.

Every movement was a claim, a declaration, his hands gripping you like you might vanish if he let go. He growled against your lips, his voice a low, guttural snarl as he pressed you against the wall, his body pinning yours effortlessly.

“Since you’re so eager to spread your legs for any man who looks your way,” he hissed, breaking the kiss just long enough to speak, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, “why not for me? Your own older brother. Or does that only make you more of a filthy little slut?”

You shook your head vehemently, tears spilling down your cheeks, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want your consent; he wanted your submission. Your humiliation. His lips crashed against yours again, his teeth marking you, biting and bruising as though he could etch himself into your very being.

His hips pressed against yours, the weight of him inescapable as he ground against you with a possessive growl. Every word that left his mouth was venomous, dripping with jealousy and rage.

“Do you know how sick you make me?” he spat, his voice trembling with fury. “How fucking jealous I get every time I see someone else looking at you? Touching you? You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

Your protests were muffled, your struggles weakening under the sheer force of his assault. His hands roamed your body with an almost methodical cruelty, every touch a reminder that you belonged to him and no one else. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air heavy with his dominance, his possessive need swallowing you whole.

“No one else gets to have you,” he growled against your ear, his voice a deadly promise. “No one.”

His lips crashed against yours again, bruising, punishing, and suffocating. There was no gentleness, no hesitation—only raw desperation and rage poured into every motion. His teeth scraped against your lips, a deliberate, cutting edge to the kiss that made you whimper, the taste of blood sharp and metallic as it spread across your tongue. He wasn’t just kissing you; he was claiming you, forcing his presence into every corner of your being.

When you tried to pull back, his hand was there, tangling in your hair with a bruising grip, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Every gasp you took was his to steal, every sound you made swallowed by his insistent, devouring mouth.

His tongue pressed into you, hot and invasive, tasting, consuming, as though he could erase any trace of anyone else with sheer force alone. The kiss deepened with every passing moment, turning darker, hungrier, as his free hand gripped your waist hard enough to leave marks, pressing your body against the wall with an unrelenting pressure.

The sharp pain of his bite pulled a gasp from your lips, and he seized the moment, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that felt almost mocking. It wasn’t enough for him to take; he wanted you to feel it—to feel the way he dominated every inch of you, every sound, every breath.

“You taste like lies,” he growled against your lips, the words vibrating through your chest as his teeth grazed your bottom lip again, threatening another sharp bite. His breath was hot and ragged, mingling with yours, and the fury in his eyes hadn’t dimmed—it had only sharpened, focused entirely on you. “Do you think I’d ever let anyone else have this? Have you?”

Your hands pushed weakly at his chest, but it was like trying to move stone. He laughed, a low, bitter sound that sent chills racing down your spine. “Pathetic,” he sneered, the word dripping with venom. “Look at you. Fighting when you know you’ll lose. You always lose.”

He kissed you again, harder this time, his teeth sinking into your lip just enough to sting before he licked the blood away with a slow, deliberate motion. “Mine,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and possessive. “Every inch of you. Every breath you take. Don’t forget it.”

He shifted slightly, his hips pressing against yours, trapping you further as his mouth moved with calculated cruelty. Each kiss was an invasion, each touch a brand, his lips trailing down to your jawline and then to the curve of your neck. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin there, sending a jolt through your body that you couldn’t suppress.

“You think they could kiss you like this?” he hissed, his voice rough and filled with bitter jealousy. His lips latched onto the base of your throat, sucking hard enough to bruise as his hands roamed your sides with deliberate possessiveness. “Think again.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face inches from yours, his breath fanning against your swollen lips. His thumb brushed your cheek, almost tender, before he pressed it against the raw bite mark he��d left. You flinched, and he smirked, leaning in to whisper against your ear.

“You’ll remember who you belong to. Every time you see these marks, every time you feel them—” His teeth grazed your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. “—you’ll remember me.”

Then his lips found yours again, relentless, brutal, as though he couldn’t get enough. His fingers dug into your waist, his nails biting into your skin, and every movement was a reminder of the storm raging beneath his skin.

“You make me like this,” he growled between kisses, his voice thick with fury and something darker. “You make me fucking crazy. You make me want to ruin you, just so no one else can even look at you.”

His words blurred with the heat of his kiss, the tension between you a heady mix of fear, pain, and something far more twisted. And in that moment, you knew there was no escape—not from him, not from this, and certainly not from the obsession that burned in his eyes every time they met yours.

"You're a such a fucking cheating bitch. But, you're my cheating bitch."

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List of Fandoms and Characters

Ace Attorney: N/A

Blue Lock: Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi

Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi

Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: N/A

Death Note: N/A

Demon Slayer: Rui, Sanemi Shinazugawa

Dishonored Series: Kirin Jindosh

Genshin Impact: Ayato Kamisato, Childe / Tartaglia, Scaramouche

Haikyuu!!: Atsumu Miya, Hajime Iwaizumi, Kenjiro Shirabu, Suna Rintarou, Tobio Kageyama, Yūji Terushima, Ushijima Wakatoshi

Honkai Star Rail: Blade, Boothill

How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A

Hunter x Hunter: Chrollo Lucilfer

I'm Not That Kind of Talent: Demon Aru

Jujutsu Kaisen: Naoya Zenin, Suguru Geto

Kill The Hero: Se Jun-Lee

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Xavier

Naruto Shippuden: Kabuto Yakushi, Tobirama Senju

One Punch Man: Amai Mask

Reverend Insanity: Fang Yuan

TOUCHSTARVED: Ais

Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Dust! Sans / Murder! Sans

Wuthering Waves: Geshu Lin, Scar

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General TAG LIST: @uniquecutie-puffs , @ikevampharem , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk-blog1

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