#(it was raining so I’m not mad at them for not wanting to take out orders 💀)

[karikarasuno]

part ten | part eleven | wc: 5.1k | explicit sexual content

“Good morning, sleepy girl,” you greet Nami as she shuffles into the kitchen. Once Ace dropped you off last night, Nami spent a good three hours on the bathroom floor throwing up everything she consumed that evening. So you also spent three hours on the bathroom floor with her. Your anxiety wouldn’t allow you to relax, somehow convincing yourself that if you shut your eyes for too long she would choke on her vomit and die. 

“No,” she whines, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She plops down on the bench of your breakfast nook, hair a mess and eyes a little puffy from dehydration. 

“You woke up just in time,” you pour her a cup of coffee with some sugar and a healthy helping of milk. “Sanji just dropped off some food.”

“I know,” she groans, pressing her thumbs into her temples, “I smelled it.” 

“Apparently this cures a killer hangover.” You start serving the food in the containers it was brought in. A veggie omelette, sausages, bacon, pancakes (regular and chocolate chip), some cheesy hash browns, and avocado toast. You understand how Nami woke up just from the smell because your mouth is already watering. 

“It’s damn near medicinal,” she agrees, flipping over one of the lids and grabbing an entire pancake, folding it right in half before taking a big bite. 

You smile sympathetically at her when she flinches from the pain in her head. You really don’t know how much of last night she remembers, but you decide to start off light. A quick temperature check. 

“Aside from the obvious, did you have fun last night?” 

“Mmm,” she groans, picking up a sausage and taking another sloppy bite. “Yeah, aside from the cryin’ and throwin’ up, it was fun. Just don’t let me take that many shots ever again.”

“I blame Sabo,” you say, stabbing a sausage with a fork before she eats them all. “He was supposed to be responsible for you.” 

“Ugh, did he see me cryin’?” She frowns as she looks at you with the most pitiful expression on her face. And in all honesty, you’re not sure. You could tell Sabo was a little off last night, especially towards the tail end, but you can’t read him well. Not like you can read Nami, anyway. 

“I’m not sure,” you shrug, “but the guy really does care about you.” 

She’s silent. She bites into the toast, avocado smearing the corner of her mouth. She’s lost in thought. Distant. A pang of guilt rings in your chest because you didn’t exactly have to bring it up. But she can’t drag it on for much longer. And you don’t know how much longer you can keep this from Ace. He’s smart and curious and he’ll weasel the information out of you one way or another. 

“He knows,” she says mid chew. “I told him before I told Vivi actually.”

“And?” You pause and wait for an answer that doesn’t come. She sniffs awkwardly and adjusts in her seat, finally picking up her fork but instead of using it to eat she just fiddles with it. Anxious. 

“And he was more chill about it than I wanted him to be,” she admits. “I thought he’d be more mad or upset. Break things off with me or somethin’.” 

“Men never make things easy,” you reply, watching as her eyes well up with tears. “And Sabo’s too nice to show you how upset he is, so he’s taking a stance by making your decision more difficult for you.”

“And that’s mean,” she pouts, huffing out her complaint and crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t wanna decide. I want both of ‘em.”

“Don’t be greedy,” you wave your fork at her and she just rolls her eyes. Still watery from unshed tears.  

“Maybe I’ve bitten off more than I can chew,” she says, cutting the omelette in half with the butter knife. 

“Maybe a little,” you chuckle, offering your plate so that she can slide your half of the omelette onto it. 

“This sucks,” she complains, stuffing her mouth with egg as she continues to nurse her headache and her torn heart. 

****

Well, Nami isn’t the only one stuck in situations that absolutely suck. The rain is picking up. You can barely see a  few feet in front of you and to top it all off your truck is making a concerning rattling sound that you’re almost positive is coming from the damn engine. You just dropped Nami off at her place and you didn’t think to check the weather because this was supposed to be a quick trip. And the summer storms usually don’t terrorize the town until the evening, so you were under the impression that you had ample time. Apparently not. 

You’re not even far from home. Just a few more minutes and you’ll be pulling into your driveway. Except smoke starts rising from beneath your hood. The truck’s temperature gauge swings alarmingly to hot. You don’t know much about cars, but you know enough to recognize that your radiator is overheating. Yet before you can decide to pull over, your truck chugs, groans, and whines to a pathetic stop. 

“Are you fucking serious?” You whine, pressing down on your gas, but it’s useless. The truck starts to shake and the rattling intensifies. You’re half a heart attack away from a full blown panic. It also doesn’t help that you left your cellphone at the house. Because again this was supposed to be a quick trip. There’s nothing left for you to do, so you just turn off the truck. Twisting the key in the ignition and even that is accompanied by an unpleasant sound. After the engine goes quiet you’re left with the fierce sound of rain pelting into the metal of your truck. The wind is whistling around you and in the distance you can see the trees swaying violently. You’re too far from home to make a run for it. And stress begins to flood your chest when you realize there’s nothing you can do but wait it out. These storms don’t typically last long, but they also aren’t usually this aggressive. For whatever reason, the sky is angry and you’re now facing the brunt of that anger. 

You shut your eyes and rest your head on your steering wheel in the hopes you can pretend your circumstances are different. That maybe your mind will wander somewhere far more pleasant. But as your thoughts drift into something a bit more soothing there’s a loud knock on your window. It’s loud even through the sounds of the storm. Loud enough that you yelp, clutching your chest as your body jerks up in your seat.

Ace is standing there. With water dripping off of his cowboy hat and the rain slamming sideways into him.

“What’re you doin’ stopped in the middle of the road?” He shouts over the rain. You’re still processing the fact that he’s even here and you’re kinda wondering if you’re hallucinating him. “Hello?!”

“I broke down,” you blurt out suddenly, finally realizing that yes Ace is actually here and getting soaked through by the storm. 

“Jesus,” he says, tugging your door open. You flinch when the raindrops hit your thigh and arm. Cold and painful from how hard it’s falling. “Go get in my truck.”

“What?” You ask, confused but immensely grateful that he’s here. Like he heard your wish to be saved. To be home.

“My truck,” he emphasizes, reaching over to undo your seatbelt and grabbing your elbow to lift you out of the truck. “I’m gonna try and move yours off the road, so go wait in mine.”

“So we’re just gonna leave mine here?” You ask while standing unguarded beneath the downpour. You’re not thinking clearly because to be honest you’re still in shock that Ace is standing in front of you.

“Yes,” he says firmly, “We can come get it later when we’re not in the middle of a hurricane.”

“But-”

Ace glares at you. You’ve never seen such an intense expression on his face. It shuts you up immediately. Your protest dies on your tongue and he points over his shoulder at his truck which is still on and running behind yours. No more words are exchanged. He shuts the door to your vehicle and your only option left is to run to his. Not that it matters because your clothes are already soaked through and sticking rather obscenely to your body. 

It takes Ace a few minutes to get your car started enough so he can actually move it. You cringe as you watch from the passenger seat as your poor truck shakes to life and sputters pathetically off of the main road and into the grass. You feel even worse when you watch Ace jump out of your truck and run back to his as the rain seems to come down harder. 

“Thanks,” you say sheepishly as he frantically gets behind the wheel. He tosses his hat in the back seat and shakes out his hair. Water splatters across his dashboard and speckles across your bare thigh. You can tell he’s tense, agitated almost.

“How long has your car been actin’ up?” He asks, pointedly looking at you. Searching for a reasonable answer. But in truth, your truck has had its fair share of issues for some time now. You just haven’t fixed them. 

“It’s been a while,” you respond, looking down at the hands in your lap. You feel like you’re being scolded and looking into Ace’s eyes that are smoldering with irritation and concern doesn’t help. You squirm.

“How long is a while?” He shifts his truck into drive and a crack of lightning slices through the sky directly in front of you. 

“Uh-.” A loud rumble of thunder interrupts you.  The sound is deafening, but Ace continues to drive steadfastly through it all. Seemingly calm besides the waves of agitation rolling off of him. 

“Too long,” you end up replying and you watch as his hand tightens around the wheel. But it only lasts for a second. And he relaxes it quick enough for you to think you imagined it. 

“I’ve never heard a car make that noise,” he says through a clenched jaw. “Anything could’ve happened to you.”

“I was gonna wait out the storm,” you offer as a solution. One that you thought was valid until his eyes slide back over to you and there’s no humor in his gaze. Just annoyed concern. 

“The one that’s s’posed to last all night?” 

“I didn’t realize…” you allow your sentence to end there. There’s no point arguing with him. Not when he has to focus on the road and you swear the storm is only getting worse. If that’s even possible. But it doesn’t take long before he’s pulling up to your home, parking his truck only a few feet away from your porch steps so you don’t have to make a long run for the door. 

“You should come in,” you say, hoping that’ll improve his mood. “I can make us a pot of coffee or some tea so we can warm up.”

You have goosebumps alight over your entire body from sitting wet in the cool air. You can tell he’s not too warm either with the way he suppresses a chill at the offer. He doesn’t answer you, though, he just turns off the truck. 

“Ready?” He asks, hand on the door. 

“No,” you answer honestly, “but it’s not gonna lighten up anytime soon.”

He nods and you both take a preparatory breath before jumping out of the truck and into the cold rain. You can’t even see as you bolt to the front door, for once thankful that you forgot to lock it when you left the house earlier. Ace shuts the door behind you quickly, muffling the whipping winds and treacherous rain. 

You kick your shoes off in the doorway, absolutely feeling like a drowned rat as your hair sticks uncomfortably to your face and your clothes are suctioned to your body. The water drips onto your hardwood floors as the two of you stand in your entryway. Still processing everything that just occurred. 

“Thanks again for the help,” you say, flicking your hands out in an absurd attempt to dry off. 

“Yeah,” he starts, bending over to peel off his boots. His jeans are weighed down from the rain, the waistband sinking lower down his hips. And even though he’s just as wet as you are, he looks insanely good. His shirt clings to the outlines of his muscled abdomen. His biceps seemingly bigger with the way the sleeves mold around them. You’re honestly trying not to drool. 

“But I’m not gonna lie to you,” he continues, peeling his shirt away from his torso when he straightens, “I’m not too happy about the state of your truck. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“To be fair, it’s never done that before,” you try to reason, but to no avail. Because Ace’s glare is stern. Serious. Sends a chill down your spine that has nothing to do with cool air touching your wet skin. Your posture straightens and your body becomes tense beneath his gaze. 

“You need new tires too,” he says, but his eyes are wandering. Past your face. Over your collarbones. And in that moment you remember something. You’re not wearing a bra. Your shirt is thin. White. And now completely see through. 

“They’re balding.” He clears his throat. His cheeks shift into a pretty pink and you know it’s because your nipples are hard. Poking through the wet fabric. 

Despite you being so obviously cold, a familiar heat begins to lick temptingly through your stomach and over your neck. 

“I’ll get new ones,” you breathe, frozen in place as he takes one step towards you. “I get paid next week.”

Ace’s hand finds the edge of your shirt and he sneaks a finger underneath, barely touching the soft skin of your belly. “You need them now.” 

“Well, right now it’s raining.” You swallow around nothing as another finger finds its way beneath your top, slowly pulling the weighted fabric away from you. 

“Tomorrow we’ll take it to Franky’s.” His fingers are now gripping your waist and he’s tugging you towards him. You don’t put up much of a fight especially when your body practically melts into his. 

“I can’t afford the repairs tomorrow,” you whisper, distracted by the ghost of his lips as they travel over your cheek. He makes it hard to breathe. The way he dangles his affection in front of you, waiting for you to take a bite out of it. 

“I got it covered,” he says, the words spoken directly into your ear as he makes his way to your neck. You shudder, your mind liquifying under his careful touch. It makes his words take a second to register, but once they do you’re pulled from the moment. 

“Wait.” You stop him, your hands moving to press against his chest so you can look at him. “I can’t let you do that. We can just get the diagnosis and I’m sure I can work something out with Franky.”

“I’m sure you can.” His face returns to your neck and he presses a kiss just below your ear. “But I don’t mind.”

“I know, but it’s the principle,” you sigh when his lips leave a sloppy trail of kisses down the column of your neck. One of his hands pops open the button on your shorts and he doesn’t waste any time shoving his hand down the back of them to grope your ass. 

“We can talk about principles later,” he says into your skin, nipping at your shoulder hard enough to make you squeal. 

“But Ace-”

His hand grips the back of your neck suddenly, his fingers curling into your hair to crane your neck towards him. He presses his lips to yours, but it’s not a kiss. It’s a warning. 

“What can I do to get you to stop talkin’?” 

Your breath catches in your throat, your eyes flutter from the pressure of his hand lightly tugging your hair. All you can do is throw your arms around his neck to keep your knees from buckling.

“Take me to my room,” you smear against his lips, practically jumping into his arms. Ace is quick though, he scoops you up so your legs wrap around his waist and for the first time he kisses you. Earnestly. 

He manages to stumble the two of you upstairs without breaking the kiss. It’s all tongue and you forgot how soft his lips are as they suck on your bottom lip. You can’t get close enough even though your hands are in his hair and your ankles are locked around his waist. You’re nearly panting into his mouth just from how strong his body feels pressed against yours. And you mourn it when he tosses you on your bed. 

Ace grips the collar of his shirt and tears the drenched fabric over the head. It falls on the floor somewhere with a heavy slap, but your eyes are trained on the way his body moves and ripples. Scarred, tanned, and stable from years of working on the ranch. His hands are rough and calloused as they draw lines up your calves and over your thighs. Mapping out the contours of your body before he curls his fingers in the open waistband of your shorts. He yanks them down with enough force that your body shifts towards the edge of your mattress. 

He doesn’t give you the chance to think. Not when he’s parting your thighs eagerly after undressing you. You’re exposed and your pulse is racing with anticipation and Ace’s gaze is locked in on your cunt. Hungry. You fist the sheets so hard your hands shake as he kisses his way up your inner thighs. Biting the fat there before ghosting his lips over you. 

“God, I’ve missed you,” he murmurs against moistened skin. He glances up at you from between your legs, lashes fluttering, lips so close to touching you exactly where you need him. “Do you know how badly I’ve been wantin’ to taste you again?”

“Show me, then.” Your hips tilt closer to him, begging for him. “Show me how bad you want it.”

Something snaps in Ace’s eyes. His whole body ripples with desire and he lurches forward. His tongue parts your folds as he licks through you. He gathers your slick onto his tongue, groaning as he finally tastes you. Your body just softens under his attention. Your eyes fall shut against your better judgement. You want to watch him. See him. But you don’t have the wherewithal to keep them open. Especially when he uses your own slick to coat your clit before sucking it into his mouth. 

Your thighs are aching to close around his head. Every muscle in your body is stiff with restraint. But need is rising in your chest. You’ve already had him. Between your legs, with his mouth closing around you sloppily, but you’re greedy. You want more. You want everything. And you want to take it from him. 

“How are you so good at this?” Your body sinks flat against the bed and your hips twitch in his grip. His fingers tighten around your thighs as he chuckles against you. Dark and alluring. 

He pulls away from you. You whine at the loss, but his fingers are quickly replacing his mouth as two digits ease their way inside of you. “I just enjoy what I do.”

“Is that right?” You say breathily as you prop yourself back up on your elbows. His face is covered in you and unlike the last time it’s not dark, and you can openly see how wet you are with the evidence left on his face. 

“Mhmm,” he hums, rising up to meet you face to face. His nose brushes yours in a sweet gesture, almost innocent with the way he presses his forehead to yours. And it would be if his fingers weren’t massaging your walls, pulling pleasure from you effortlessly. 

You card your fingers through his hair, twisting his locks between them to tug his lips to yours. He groans into the kiss and his body melts into yours, his weight pressing you into the mattress. Tasting yourself on his tongue makes you dizzy, needy. The want that heats through your body is unbearable. You’ve never wanted anyone as badly as you want Ace. 

“Take these off.” You pull at his jeans, but the denim is stiff from the rain and you can’t get them further than his hips. He keeps kissing you through your request though, his fingers speeding up and your stomach flips. 

“Ace, please,” you gasp, still fussing over his pants. It’s difficult to think. You’re only relying on instinct, but you’re barely surviving. He’s making it impossible for you to focus on him. To redirect your attention to his pleasure, but you can feel how hard he is through his jeans. And you are desperate for more, so you push him away with all the strength you can muster. 

Your breathing is heavy and labored when you finally put some space between you. Ace’s pupils are dilated and his eyes are half-lidded. His expression is almost drunken. As if he’s intoxicated and maybe he is. Maybe he’s just as wound up as you are. 

“Ok,” he removes his fingers from your center, “clean me up first.”

His fingertips tap on your bottom lip, urging you to open them. Your eyes lock onto his as your lips part and you take his fingers into your mouth. You watch as his breath stutters from his lips as you slip your tongue between parted fingers, sucking yourself off of them. 

“Shit,” he swears, pulling his fingers from your mouth and jumping off the edge of the bed. His hands get caught in his jeans as he tries to kick them off, the thick fabric sticking to his thighs from the moisture. You giggle at his struggle, your laugh breaking the tension that was starting to feel like suffocation. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” he says with a light laugh of his own. “Nothin’s funny.”

“I’m sorry,” you laugh harder, covering your face with your hands as you do. You hear how hard of a time he’s having pushing his jeans down his legs and you continue to hide your laugh behind your palms. 

“I don’t think you are,” he says, but it comes from right above you, the mattress sinking around you when his weight hovers over your body. “But it’s fine,” he grasps your wrist and pulls your hand away from your face. “I’m sure you’ll make it up to me.” 

His other hand sneaks up your shirt, using his wrist to push the fabric over your chest. He gives you a chaste peck before peppering kisses over your jaw and down your neck. You try not to squirm when he holds one of your arms above your head. Leaving a trail of hot kisses down the center of your chest before he drags his lips across your breast. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking it until it's hard and sensitive. Your thighs tighten around his torso as your hips undulate, searching for a friction that’s too far. 

You pull Ace off of you when you can’t take it anymore, wiggling yourself free from his grip so you can rip your shirt off. It falls somewhere behind you but you can’t worry too much about it when you glance at Ace and his eyes are glued to your completely naked body. It’s funny with everything that you’ve done together, even fucking on the night you first met, he’s never seen you naked before. You’ve never been completely bare for each other. 

His hand presses down on your sternum and he drags it down your stomach slowly. With unwavering concentration. Like he’s committing you to his memory. It’s enough to make your skin burn.

“You always surprise me,” he whispers, his fingertips dancing over your lower belly. “You’re prettier than I coulda ever imagined.”

Goosebumps rise on your skin and you shiver under the weight of his words. “Turn on your side.”

He helps push you over with a firm hand on your hip. He immediately gets comfortable behind you, kissing over your shoulder before he tucks his arm beneath your head. Your cheek pillows against his bicep and he kisses your temple in an unsettling moment of intimacy. 

“Ready?” He asks, lips brushing against your ear. You part your legs for him, closing your eyes as soon as you feel his cock slip between your thighs. Your breath hitches when his tip slides between your folds. You clench in preparation. Squeeze tightly around nothing when he starts to coat himself in you. He’s not even inside you yet and you’re leaking all over him, the wet noises ringing loudly through the room. Even heard above the relentless rain falling onto your roof. 

“Yeah,” you moan, pressing your ass into him in the hopes that he’ll just fuck you. That he’ll relieve the pressure that’s slowly yet powerfully building in your gut. His hips shift away from you and on instinct your hand reaches back to keep him close. Your nails dig into the muscle of his thigh, but he just chuckles and the exhale that releases from his lips tickles your neck. 

“I got you,” he reassures, carefully and with obvious restraint pushing his cock inside of you. The whine that squeaks its way up your throat is involuntary. You forgot how thick he is. How full he makes you feel. You nearly choke from it. 

“Fuck,” he huffs, his hand squeezing your thigh before he tosses your leg over his, “you’re tighter than I remember.”

“You’re bigger than I remember,” you respond through strained gasps, doing anything to keep yourself relaxed. 

“You’re too nice,” he says roughly. And you can hear the playfulness in his tone, but it’s hidden deep beneath his desire. The same desire that pumps intensely through your veins. 

Ace thrusts into you with a force that jolts your body. You muffle your moan into his arm, drool gathering at the corner of your mouth and smearing against his arm as he drives into you. There’s no more room for thinking. You try to string thoughts together but Ace fucks them into a scrambled mess. His free hand creeps between your thighs suddenly, fingers rubbing harsh circles against your clit. 

It’s truly a mystery to you how well Ace knows your body because he’s working you towards your release with an ease that’s almost terrifying. All that restraint he had before is gone. All that care and hesitation that he displayed just a few minutes ago dissipated the second he entered you. 

You grip the wrist that’s placed between your legs in an effort to become grounded, but he picks up the pace. Wet slaps of skin on skin echo off of the walls. His groans are humid as they mist across your skin. It’s overstimulating in the best way possible. Lightning cracks outside your window. It flickers white light across your bedroom. Cutting through the darkness behind your eyelids. 

A few seconds later thunder roars, shaking your home, scattering your pleasure into a million pieces. 

“Baby,” you whimper, trying hard to close your legs, but it’s impossible with the way he uses his knee to keep them open. “I’m gonna-”

“Get on top,” he says out of nowhere, extracting himself from you so suddenly your brain doesn’t register that you’re empty until the feeling of your orgasm fades, splintering off into a dying buzz. 

“Wait,” you whine, reaching for him blindly. “I was about to come.”

“You can come on top,” he says urgently, manhandling you into position. Your thighs straddle his hips and he doesn’t wait for you to settle before he’s lining his cock with your entrance. You’re flush against him in seconds, bracing your hands on his chest to keep from collapsing over. “I’ll make sure you do.”

And he keeps his word. His hands hold onto your hips harsh and bruising. He grinds you against him while rolling his hips upwards, hitting the sensitive tissue inside of you over and over. You scratch down his chest, marking him. Claiming him as yours. Because he is. He always has been. 

“Ace.” His name is the only word left on your tongue. The only word left in your mind and it’s situated between bursts of electric light and fragmented ecstasy. 

“Keep sayin’ my name,” he groans, deep from within his chest. “You sound so sexy sayin’ it like that.”

Your pussy flutters around him, butterflies fill your stomach and you fold over. You don’t have any strength left. Your muscles weaken as soon as your orgasm hits you. White noise fills your ears and static blinds you. A broken, desperate version of his name tumbles from your lips and he swallows it with a rough kiss. Kissing you hard and wet and sloppy. You can’t even kiss him back. You can hardly handle the way he’s rutting into you from below. He’s clearly chasing a high of his own, but it only prolongs your pleasure and seeps it into something dangerously delirious. 

“Ace,” you whine his name again and his hips stutter as he growls into your mouth. “Too much.”

“You can take it, baby,” he plasters the spit soaked words to your lips, moving his hands from your hips to your hair as he pounds into you. You’re clutching onto his shoulders, trying hopelessly to keep yourself present, but your body is limp and your mind is gooey. Even Ace sounds distant and warped through your pleasure induced haze. 

You don’t realize he finishes until his body settles beneath you. Until his limbs relax and his hips slow and his kiss grows tender. You blink at him through watery lashes, your vision blurry from the tears that collected there. His breathing is stilted, like he’s having a hard time capturing air into his lungs. 

“You ok?” You ask and your voice is hoarse. Unrecognizable to your own ears. But he just chuckles and turns his head to press a kiss to your sweaty temple, hugging you closer to his chest. 

“Never been better.” He rolls you onto your side gently but with steady hands. “Are you?”

“Maybe,” you admit, hiding your face in his neck, indulgently inhaling him. “I’ll let you know in the morning when the soreness settles in.” 

“Shouldn’t be too bad,” he says, rubbing soothing circles onto your back, “considering I went easy on you.”

taglist: @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @nico-ith @chillerkiller @jozhenji @starchild-unnamed @certain-tragedies @hannahbarberra162 @kanekisheart @stuckinmymind22 @greenbnny@kimkat1822, @purplefluffycows@insomniacvoidsstuff@straight-n-arrow @jevoislesbrasdemer

[hxney-lemcn]

Mine, Only Mine — Mr. Crawling, Gap, Silvair, Chopped, Hugeface, and Scarletella x gn! reader

summery: how jealous do some of the Homicipher boys get?

tw: unhealthy relationships (Mr. Hugeface & Scarletella)

wc: 1.2k

Master List

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Crawling

❥I know people have written about how he gets jealous…but I don’t really think he does? Or at least not terribly. The scene with Mr. Chopped and the cat ears show that Mr. Crawling won’t pout or get sad at you showing affection to others, just that he wants to gain the same attention (the ear scene…). So jealousy with Mr. Crawling isn’t too bad, just be prepared to shower him with more affection than the person you originally did. 

❥On the other hand, I do think his jealousy may increase if you ignore him. Say you give more attention to Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Crawling would get a bit sad and pouty, thinking you don’t like him anymore. If this happens, give him lots and lots of attention and reassurance, he’ll be super grateful. I mean he loves your affection anyways, so might as well give him some extra headpats and kisses. Even better if you only show certain signs of affection with him, it makes him feel special. 

❥Overall, not the most jealous, but not completely unaffected either. Make sure he gets his daily dose of attention/quality time and he’ll be as right as rain.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Gap

❥Uh, he gets more jealous than you’d think. Like…his whole thing is he wants to be special to you…in his own strange way. Doesn’t like the thought of someone taking his place as a jokester to you. Also why he brings you things he’d think you like from time to time, just to make sure you still have that special place in your heart for him <3

❥Hates hate hates when you call him bad or not good. He’s good! He swears! Remember how he’s helped you before! Gets all frowny when you call him not good and then call someone else good. He’s good too! Guess he has to prove it, AGAIN. It’s honestly kind of endearing how he has no clue how he actually kind of does like you? But not exactly in a romantic way? It’s honestly hard to label his feelings towards you, so why should I?

❥I’d say he’s the second most jealous in this list of characters, watching on angrily as you praise someone that isn’t him. Be prepared for magazines and books galore when he’s in this mood, trying to prove his worth to you. Kind of strange for someone to try so hard when they claim to not like you…

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Silvair

❥Definitely the chillest one here. Doesn’t really get jealous at all :/ If anything, he finds it entertaining when you’re affectionate with others. Gives him more insight to his lab rats. Yes, he sees everyone as a lab rat. Idk, I can’t really see him get jealous.

❥Maybe…MAYBE if someone else tries doing research on you, or if Ms. Nurse treats you instead he’ll feel a bit off. Like…you’re his test subject, he knows you from the inside out…literally and not in the fun sense. Why would you go to someone who doesn’t know as much about you and how this world affects you? It’s very hard to spot his jealousy, doesn’t even notice it/recognize it himself. He just doesn’t want anyone to mess up his data…that’s all…totally.

❥In conclusion, not really jealous. Doesn’t feel like he needs to be. You’re ‘friends’, doctor and patient, mad scientist and lab rat not many others threaten that balance between you. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Chopped

❥Honestly…Mr. Chopped I’m kinda mixed on how he’d be. Like on one hand, I could totally see him getting jealous if you call others cute or pay too much attention to them. On the other…he could probably care less. He loves himself, you love him, why does he need to get jealous? It’s clear how much you like him with the way you pamper him. I mean we get so many examples where you’re affectionate to Mr. Crawling in front of Mr. Chopped and he doesn’t really bat an eye. 

❥Now, I can see if he gets a bit insecure he might get more jealous. Whether it be because Mr. Crawling pats your head or tucks you into bed, Mr. Chopped feels a bit sad. He’d like to tuck you in, you look so comfy. Might be just a bit pouty, eyeing you like a dissatisfied cat. Easily rectified with head pats or even cuddles. Gets side tracked from his jealousy as soon as you give him a sliver of attention honestly.

❥Mr. Chopped is fifty fifty when it comes to jealousy, but it’s never too bad. He’s pretty comfortable with what you both have and doesn’t really feel threatened by others. After all, you did call him cute.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Hugeface

❥I wouldn’t say he gets jealous? More possessive than anything. Like that scene when Mr. Machete stumbles into his little makeshift dollhouse that he made for you and gets all angry that he’s there. It’s more of a ‘you’re not supposed to be here, this is our playtime’ more than actual jealousy. Throws a little fit whenever someone messes up your playtime. Very accusatory lmao.

❥Does not like when you try to escape. Was he not providing enough for you? Were you unhappy? You’re not allowed to leave! You’re his cute human! He can’t just find another one y’know. Mr. Hugeface may be lenient if he sees you happier, you need enrichment after all. Feels extra happy if you come back on your own violation. 

❥The most childish out of all the characters on this list. Isn’t afraid to throw tantrums, will also punish you by putting you in a solid concrete cube if he’s really upset. Yeah…not the most healthy of relationships to have…BUT! I do think you could convince him to be a bit better…? Maybe? Only if you put enough work in communicating with him though. Maybe punish him in your own way like leaving for longer if he threatens to trap you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Scarletella

❥Uhhhhhhhhhhh. Top of the list when it comes to jealousy. Watches your every move with curiosity and spite. Why are you doing that to Mr. Crawling? Do it to him instead. Why do you look so happy braiding Mr. Chopped’s hair? Style his hair instead. Why are you looking so fondly amused at Mr. Gap? Don’t you find him amusing? You do like him, right? He likes you. He likes you a lot, and he thought he was enough…was he not?

❥Will stare through your skull. It is so intimidating. His smile? Strained, it makes your skin crawl. You have to make sure he doesn’t hurt your friends, he’s so close to snapping, but he knows that would upset you and that’s not his goal. So instead he stands ominously in the background, body staticing in and out while his hand clenches the handle of his umbrella. 

❥Not that easily mended. Likes to monopolize all your time and affection. Needs constant reassurance as well, he’s quite needy. If you like constant validation and no social life go for it, just don’t get too upset if he threatens your other monster friends…he can’t stand that you could like someone that wasn’t him.

[pink7princess]

rainy nights

slow to rough missionary with abby anderson!!

┊͙ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ content: nsfw!! dom!abby & super needy femme reader :3 straight up lesbian strap sex LOLZ

used; “mommy”, strap referred to dick/cock, hair pulling, asphyxiation!!!!

authors note: this is my first fic…don’t hurt em now!!

(this is a lil long, sorry chat.. i like a shit ton of foreplay but it’s abby foreplay so come on now!!!)

the rain crashing outside. comforting thunder. blinking awkwardly, you watch abby’s sleeping face. quietly, your hand is resting between your own plump thighs. you squirm, biting your lip, thinking of her fucking you so good to sleep.

you’ve been teasing yourself by tracing the elastic of your panties for the last five minutes.

your doe eyes trail to abby's sweet lips, her gentle breathing practically enough to get you soaked.

the way the blanket is hugging the two of you feels different now. so nicely against your skin, overloading your senses, dangerously turning you on by the second. you can feel your own face burning, my god, being able to feel your growing heat, the aching need.

your eyes slowly fall to abby’s chest as it rises and falls, her tits gently yet so roughly pressed against the fabric of her grey tank-top. you bite your lip discreetly, realizing your hands are begging to touch them. you want to. you need to. you sigh tiredly, glancing up at abby’s peaceful resting eyes.

finally gaining the courage, your soft hand brushes against her bicep gingerly, “abby,” you whisper gently, “abby, abs.” your comforting voice made her slowly writhe.

noticing it wasn’t a dream, her gorgeous blue eyes slowly part, taking in your delicate features,

“hmm…" she groans roughly, swallowing, "what is it, baby?”

her voice hoarse from sleep stirs the warmth between your legs.

shit, the simplest things she does makes your poor thighs part.

attempting to reply, you feel your voice hitch. stuttering from how damn hot her voice simply sounds. "baby..." you start, cheeks rosy with sweet lust,

"uhm, I.." your breathing becomes uneven.

anxiously, you lean forward into her arms with a little sigh. you groan and nuzzle your nose against her chest.

"what's wrong, baby?"

her voice. you can feel your dampness.

fuck.

you can feel the way your panties are sticking to you from how motherfucking wet you are.

fucking shit.

the stupid realization hits you suddenly. you waking up your girlfriend simply because you were just so fucking horny. so fucking desperate, was so humiliating.

"hmm? answer me." her voice was so sexy yet gentle. the smell of her musk and breath almost clicked something primal in you. my fucking god. you need it, you didn't care, shit. “use your words, mama.” oh my god. abby began using spanish recently because of manny, and don’t get me wrong—you’re not mad. she sighs, slightly annoyed with a growing smirk,“speak or i’m gonna go back to sleep.” that familiar cocky smile appeared on her face. god. your chest tightens as you think.

imagining how she spreads you wide, holding your thighs down, so effortlessly stretching you out, her amazing slow strokes…strapping you so good, so late…

she’ll figure what you want. abby always does.

she waits for your answer. but you don’t give a single fuck anymore about being verbal. you begin kissing her nearest skin. the familiarity of her warm silk chiffon skin against your lips makes you throb.

as you plant harsher kisses, abby raises an eyebrow. her smirk playful. she can feel how the kisses are not innocent. they feel greedy.

she knows why you woke her up.

marking her skin, you nip at her throat as you trail up…your hands gripping her waist. the crisp sounds of your lips leave behind spit, drying cool in the showering night. abby moves her head back softly, giving you more access. she lets out low gentle groans that are oh-so delicious to your ear. you make your way to below her ear, the most sensitive spot. you swirl your tongue, savoring the sweetness of her skin. you moan gently, getting more aroused by the fucking second. with a small smile, you seductively groan in her ear, “abby, can you fuck me? been thinking about you dicking me down alllllll night.” you tease, nipping her ear.

your voice was so alluring and the moment she heard those words… abby, herself, felt her own warmth grow. “mmm…i can make that happen.” her voice was no longer groggy but intrigued and sensual. abby kisses along your jaw, making you softly laugh, feeling so fucking elated her lips are finally on you. her hands drag down to your waist, gripping the flesh.

you stop kissing her, allowing your head to fall back as she takes the lead down your neck, slowly pulling you on top of her. you whine softly, letting your hands crawl mischievously into abby’s tank-top, gripping her tits. your hands were cold and you can tell she immediately noticed from her sudden charming chuckle. fucking hell…her throaty laugh makes you wetter.

you continue nipping her neck as she’s going further down your neck, pulling at your shirt to kiss the softness hidden under your clothed collarbone. the feeling of her kisses are too fucking incredible and get weaker by the second. whining softly, you simply watch her sexy face as she passionately kisses your neck and my god. abby’s pretty eyelashes and nose made you want more. your hands move themselves, directing abby’s face towards yours now with rough eagerness. your hungry lips clasp hers in seconds. she moans roughly into your mouth, her tongue immediately plunging in, dominating the kiss. the soft wet sounds are porno-worthy. your lips are so locked together like there’s no fucking tomorrow. you grind on abby’s thick thigh in time with her tongue, hips moving gently..

attempting to keep up with the steamy kiss as it becomes more heated you can feel her lust radiating from her skin, “i was having a wet dream when you woke me up.” abby confessed, nipping at your bottom lip, her hands groping your ass harshly now. you eagerly reply with a teasing smile, “was it like this?” your hands tug at her shirt, almost completely pushing up her tanktop. sadly, her strong hands grip yours immediately, “not so fast, princess.” she tsks, turning her head with disapproval. “it was more like this.”

abby’s smile turns devilish as she pushes up your shirt. you give in instantly, even helping pull it over your head. the coldness gives you goosebumps which somehow turns you on even further. abby gropes your hard nipples as you eagerly pull her back into a rough kiss, “and what else, baby?” you question with a sultry tone against her lips once more, grinding in a hypnotizing way. you softly shake as you can feel your wetness finally seeping through.

“that.” her thumb moves to the waistband of your shorts, immediately slipping in at your hip. “i’m gonna dick you down so raw and so good, you want that baby?” she grunts into the kiss as she flips you over, her huge body hovering over you. she pulls her shirt quickly over her head, wanting, no, craving your tits against hers. abby’s strong nose brushes against your cheek as she adjusts, holding your hips nicely as she grinds against you. you beam widely, nodding with fervent. “fuck, abs…” you slowly lick her jawline as she roughly gives you a fucking hickey. the pain felt so damn amazing. you grip her waist tightly, holding her close. your cheeks glow redder as you look down to see your body caged between her sweet thighs. abby finally unwraps her lips from your throat, “all your little friends will see that.” she cheekily smiles with lust, continuing her kisses. the passion does not cease for one second as she trails down your throat. the marks finally stutter at your chest as she takes one of your tits into her mouth. abby’s mouth is so fucking hot and sticky, the feeling makes you shiver. you watch in awe as your engorged nipple softens as she wraps her tongue around it. the erotic popping sound as she moves to the other tit makes you moan harshly. god.

you impatiently find your hands moving to abby’s sweats, pulling them down hastily… and motherfucking god, she fucking helps. looking so good with a fucking titty still in her mouth, shimming down her pants. “fuck..” you exhale with a pretty smile, hands probing her shoulders as you admire her freckled skin.

abby’s sexy body, now perfectly in her boy shorts, immediately locks her lips onto your stomach. finally taking it to the next level.

you bite your lip with excitement as you watch abby’s face glow with determination and it’s the sexiest thing ever.

she kisses your stomach gently, savoring you, almost redeeming her previous manhandling. she holds the waistband of your shorts, voice gentle, “up, baby,” and like an obedient dog, you raise your fucking hips instantly. “atta girl.” she praises softly with a cocky grin, her thick fingers slowly pull down your shorts and panties, the wet spot shamefully visible. “someone’s excited.” her voice low as she watches a string of your wetness cling to your panties, “my god, baby. you want it hard and deep, huh?” abby bites her lip with an impatient smile. her eyes latch onto your sopping wet clit. “open the nightstand drawer and hand me the harness,” she sighs with a sexy smile, “and fuck, no lube.”

her teasing eyes follow you completely as you grab everything near you, fuck, you had it so accessible because you never know when you’d both have fun. abby’s eyes widen with greed as she finally holds the harness, leaning off the bed. now standing, her stature is pussy-quiver inducing… abby immediately pulls down her boy shorts, her eyes locking onto yours because she knows you live for her pussy. she steps into the harness, her sexy dirty blonde bush making your heart skip a beat. fucking hell, you blush a deep scarlet red. “ready for mommy to fuck you up?” she grins cheekily, a glint of wickedness in her eyes. abs knows how much you love this shit.

“which strap?” abby gently questions, eyes almost soft. she pulls you closer to the corner of the bed by your ankles. you stare up at her, beautiful and eager smile on display, hair sprawled on the bed, “you pick.” she smiles sweetly with a playful nod… and for an instant, you truly realize how her frame is so fucking sexy above you like this…her tits, her shoulders, my god. fuck. “okay, baby.” abby walks to the closet you shared, grabbing your soon to be toy.

you lay there, eyes closed, arm over your face. you prepare yourself because you know. you fucking know her sweetness is always an act in the beginning. you smile to yourself, your cheeks all cozy and red. fuck.

“don’t blame me if you’re in pain tomorrow because you let me pick!” she chuckles grimly as she walks back over, dick in hand. you gleam with excitement because she picked your favorite one, shit, it was the pink, translucent with glitter, long and thick one. the girth was no joke. her sexy gaze lingered on your oozing cunt as she attached it. your eyes are fixed on her abs, smiling with anticipation as your fingers lingered to your clit. rubbing gentle circles, the wetness coats your fingers completely, “fuck, i’m so ready.” you giggle sweetly, bringing your fingers to your lips, licking it completely clean.

“you better make this good…” you tease, watching abby who’s tilting her head with a cute blush. her pretty braid, all messy accompanied with her eyes glazed with complete confident dominance. kind dominance. she’s so pretty. your cheeks flush with excitement as abby quickly moves between your thighs, wasting no time. grinning from ear to ear, that familiar sexy grin looks down at you as she takes the strap in hand, stroking it as if it were real. she moves it along your slit so gently, ever so gently, teasing the fuck out of you. she circles the tip on your clit, “deep breathes, okay?” her hand moves to grope your boob kindly, watching your eyes. abby pushes forward slowly, the tip slipping in easier than expected.

your eyes remain on abby’s, completely trusting her. and my god, you almost fucking go cross eyed from how good the tip felt. you bite your bottom lip, watching her gently bottom you out. her hips moving slowly in, finally reaching the hilt. she allows you to adjust with a concentrated gaze as your mouth gapes. your eyes drop to the strap buried inside you. fuck.. abby looks at you for approval, a beautiful sincerity to her face and you nod with a half-lidded groan. “shit..” you manage to squeak out as abby begins to move.

her hips slowly draw out slow strokes. slowwwww, slowww, ones. you wince at how fucking good it felt. in and out,,, in and out… your breath hitches as she begins to take it up a notch. she picks up the speed slightly, alongside increasing the depth. her hips snap harsher into yours, causing to let your head fall back. “fuck, abby.” you whine, shutting your eyes, focusing on the warm feeling.

“eyes on me, on me baby.” her hips slow, “or i’ll stop.” your chest tightens as the pace almost comes to a full stop, making you immediately obey. you open your pretty little eyes lazily, “there we go.” suddenly, her movements become rougher and deeper with a new vigor. you cry out, with a loud moan, “oh shit-!” the pace starts becoming consistent, rhythmic, causing that familiar rising heat in your stomach. you groan deeply. “my god..” you pant as she grips your thighs, holding you open. her gorgeous grin appears on her face, “is it good, baby?” she teases, purposely heightening her speed even more. abby’s cock is buried to the fucking hilt, slamming in and out steadily and she expects you to speak? each plap earns a sound from you. “i-uh, uh, uh…uh what, sweetheart?” she smiles devilishly, biting her lip with concentration as she plasters your thighs down so fucking roughly against the bed, spreading you out so wide. your tits bounce and my god, she can’t take her eyes off them. “you’re taking my dick so well.”

she coos, “tell mommy how good it feels.”

you groan with heavier pants from deep within your chest, sounding almost desperate for more, “so-so, fucking good-mommy.” you whimper with high whines, your breath being knocked out of you with each thrust. “and who’s fucking pussy is this?” she teases with a sexy smile, “m-mommy’s.” you groan out, gripping the sheets.

“uh-huh.” abby loves this, every bit of this. throwing your head back once more gets on her fucking nerves. her hand moves up to your throat and the other to the top of your hair, your hairline, gripping a handful of your hair, forcing you to look down at the strap slamming in and out of your gripping pussy. you cry out with choked cries, face contorting into what looks like pain, but…you love how rough she is. you almost can’t take how perfect it is. her cocky grin watches as your tits flop with each fucking thrust. “mhm, you can take it, baby.” each one hits your cervix. and fuck, she’s deep deep. staying deep within but hitting the same spot over and over.

“mommy…” you choke out, your voice almost a sob, “right there.” her pretty eyebrows of concentration, furrow, gripping your hair and throat tighter, hips relentlessly picking up the pace once more. her sexy body is driving you fucking crazy… abby knows you can’t take much more. but…she knows what’ll push you off the edge.

“baby, rub it.” she smiles handsomely, noticing your hand on your stomach, “rub your fucking clit.” she demands, her voice almost a growl, “now.”

your hand moves weakly to your clit, abby’s arms almost in the way. she commands, “circles. small circles.” your ring finger moves gently but with enough pressure changes the whole experience. her pace suddenly becomes overwhelming with the extra stimulation. “fuck-!” you cry out, shutting your eyes and panting desperately. “open your eyes.” her voice, stern and almost mean as her hand grips your throat tighter and your hair rougher, making you groan as your face heats up with the need for oxygen and more. the pain is so fucking amazing. “mommy wants to see the way your eyes roll back when you cum.” her own voice almost seems desperate as she pipes into you, harder and even deeper, grazing your g-spot perfectly. so perfectly. you beg like a fucking bitch in heat, over and over, as if your life depended on it, “right there, mommy, right there, right there, please, please-!”

abby pounds into you, the lewd sounds of your soaked pussy fill the room. my god, you unravel into a fucking mess. eyes rolling back, tongue sliding out, begging for it, all of it. your vision grows fuzzy, “i’m-cumming-!” you squeak out so pathetically, so fucking pathetically.

however, her pace does not stop. her mocking ass rides out your orgasm, making you whimper with overstimulated moans, “ah-ah…there…it’s okay…” she comforts sweetly, teasing you with a fake smile. releasing her grip on your hair and throat… she holds your hips slowly, caressing them up and down, “mama, it’s okayyy…” moving forward, her hand holds your face gently as she slows her pace finally. she holds your thighs, gripping the flesh, pumping deep and slow. you breath heavy, whimpering, because fucking god, you were still seeing stars.

“was that good or was that good?” she grins confidently, a goofy little smile on display. abby breathes heavy, her chest heaving as if she just ran a marathon. her eyes glow with love, my god.

her once rough hands now move gently, fixing your messy hair stuck to your forehead. beads of sweat drip down abby’s neck and temples, somehow making her so much fucking hotter. her effort... abby’s hips now at a complete stop, letting you both finally catch your breaths. she stares down at you, carefully slipping out of your throbbing hole. you adore her freckled skin with a wince as she rubs her drenched cheek with the back of her hand. abby’s always so eager. you love that about her.

the room smells of lesbian sex.

“fuck you abby.” you sigh with a content smile, panting. your dewy afterglow makes your face gleam so sweetly.

“i fucked you and you loved it.” she charmingly giggles, her sweaty face still as beautiful as ever. abby leans down to hug you, pecking your cheek and your jaw, sweaty bodies mingling. her kind hands slip down the harness quickly, allowing it to plop wherever. she quickly moves to lay on top of you.

“glad you woke me up.” abby groans tiredly, cheek pressed against yours. her musk makes you feel complete.

“me too, you pretty baby.” you laugh, kissing her nose. your face rosey and relieved, the rain continues to pour… soothing the two of you to sleep.

CRYINGGG UGHHH SORRY THIS WAS SO LONGG i made this like at 4am but like i loved writing it tho🤰🧜🏼‍♀️damn waittt this got me yearning for her LMAOSJJDKW

~~~

[softjeekies]

Waiting After The Rain

↳ chapter 4

previous chapter // next chapter

Pairing: ot8!stray kids x pregnant omega!reader

Synopsis: An omega pregnant and alone after being kicked out by their alpha stumbles upon a pack willing to take them in and care for both the omega and their pup as if they were their own, because now they are.

Genre: strangers to lovers, angsty but lots of fluff to even it out.

Warnings: a/b/o, past abuse physical and verbal, mentions of past sexual abuse(mentions of past non-con), mentions of past violence, trauma, self esteem issues, pregnancy, aftermath of abuse, panic attacks, anxiety, pack dynamics, angst but it will be okay, polyamory

A/N: Thanks again for all the love, please enjoy this chapter!!

It’s been so long since you’ve been in a doctor’s office. You’d forgotten how awful it smells, so clean, too clean, you don’t miss the smell at all. Your alpha always had strong opinions on doctors and hospitals, as the rose colored glasses began to crack you think maybe he wanted to hide what he was doing to you. From across the room, Chan’s alpha whine pulls you out of your thoughts, you forgot he was there, let alone that he could smell your not-so-nice thoughts. Before you can let him know you’re fine the doctor comes in.

“Hello there, Ms. Y/LN. I’m Dr. Kim. It's nice to meet you.” She’s a gorgeous omega; any alpha would be lucky to have her.

“Hi.” It’s all you can muster the courage to say, it feels wrong sitting here.

“Chan let me know that you come from a complicated situation. So while I will need to examine you, I know this is a lot for you so I’d like to calm your nerves by checking on the baby first, how does that sound?” Your baby. You finally get to see your baby.

“Okay.” You take it upon yourself to lie back while she gets the ultrasound equipment together. Your scent sours almost immediately with negative thoughts, and a familiar fear rests in your chest. But with your belly out on full display you can’t help but feel a pair of alpha eyes resting on it. Your body tells you to flee, that he will hurt your pup, you take a deep breath trying to disperse the nasty thoughts.

“It’s gonna be a little cold, but that’s normal. If you get uncomfortable at any point let me know and we will stop.” You nod as she places the wand on your belly, you wait with baited breath, a part of you afraid there won’t be any- heartbeat. It sounds like music to your ears, the sound erupts a purr from your chest. Your heart bursts with love, that’s your pup. You smile looking intently at the baby blob on the screen.

“I know you told Chan you’re about ten weeks along but from what I’m looking at while the baby isn’t quite at the size we’d like them to be for this gestational age, the baby’s feature developments tell me you are closer to the sixteen-week mark.” And just like that it feels like your world collapses as you burst into tears. You had probably been pregnant for six weeks before you even realized and took a test, and now your baby wasn’t growing at the correct pace and it’s all your fault. You’re the worst mom in the world just like Alpha said you would be. Through your tears and the ringing in your ears you can hear Chan’s growl and your heart breaks at the thought that he’s mad at you for hurting your baby.

“Woah there Alpha. Why don’t you comfort your omega instead of shooting the messenger? I know this is new for both of you, but Chan you know I would never purposely harm your omegas.” The doctor huffs at Chan as he thinks for a moment before moving the chair closer to the bed but not daring to touch you.

“Hey, it’s okay, yeah? Let’s stop crying and listen to the doctor to see what we can do to get your pup nice and healthy.” Chan gives you a smile as your cries turn to sniffles and you wipe away the tears. You take a deep breath ready to listen again.

“Ok so, while the baby is behind in growth, they are developing nicely, you just need to start eating more, the pup needs lots of nutrients and you will do, creating a baby is draining. Now that you are in a healthy and stable environment that shouldn’t be an issue right? So there’s no need to cry, you had no control over your situation but now you’ve fixed it and you and your pup are going to be healthy and happy. If I know anything about Chan’s pack and how they treat their omegas, you are in good hands.” The doctor smiles as she cleans off your belly, You keep your head down, so disappointed in yourself, and now the pack will have to take care of you more, you ruin everything.

“Now, this is gonna be the hard part. I’d like to do a full exam on you, they mentioned some bruises so I’d like to see those, I’ll ask a few questions as well afterwards. Do you want me to have Chan leave?” You can’t bring yourself to look at Chan, you’re terrified to depend on anyone right now, but you can’t do this alone.

“He can stay.” The doctor nods and if your ears weren’t still ringing you would have heard the tiniest purr come from Chan’s chest. After the basic tests are done and the doctor confirms that all your bruises will just go away with time, she motions for you to have a seat on the bed. You keep your eyes on your lap while your legs dangle off the bed, waiting for what’s to come.

“Forewarning Y/N these questions will be intense as we go along so if you need to take a break just say the word, We’ll start easy, just some stuff to break the ice.” You nod signaling for her to ask.

“How old are you?”

“23”

“What’s your favorite movie?”

“Rapunzel.”

“What does nesting look like for you day to day?”

“I don’t nest.” Chan gasps at your answer but stays quiet.

“How much do you eat in a day?”

“Before Chan’s pack, I ate whatever my alpha portioned for me at mealtimes, he said he needed more food than I do because omegas are meant to be small.” You wince, she was right, these questions are getting tough.

“When I was looking over your bruises I noticed some rashes, Do you know what those are from?”

“My alpha wouldn’t buy me the special omega body wash, said it wasn’t necessary, that could be it.”

“That makes sense, omega skin is more sensitive than alpha or beta skin. I’m sure that won’t be an issue anymore though. Now, do you feel safe?” What kind of question is that? Sure you feel safer than you did a couple of days ago, but not safe, nothing is safe.

“I feel safer than I did before.” You’re honest, honest is good.

“Has anyone ever forced themselves on you or touched you without your consent?” Your breath hitches, and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the world to satisfy your body. In a daze, you reach out your hand to Chan and he takes it without a second thought.

“Hey, it’s okay, just breathe, answer when you’re ready.” Chan slides a gentle thumb over your hand not letting go. You can do this.

“Yes. Many times. I’m not sure how many times. I don’t want to talk about it.” Tears slip past your eyelashes, this is unbearable.

“That’s okay. I ask this question to not only gauge your comfort levels but it lets me know if we need to do a pelvic exam, which I think we should, as long as you are comfortable with that.”

“Okay.” You let out a deep sigh and completely blacked out. You feel like you’re watching your life happen in front of you, like you’re drowning and you can’t hear anything, you only come to the surface again once the exam is over and you realize, your hand is still in Chan’s. He helps you off the table so you can put your pants back on. The doctor is going on about how everything looks good, she mentions something about meals you think, but you can’t hear, your focus remains on your hand in Chan’s.

As you both stand at the front desk, the kind nurse behind the window hands you the sonogram photos and continues to talk to Chan. Now your focus is on the pictures, your baby, so small, so perfect, all yours.

“Okay, let’s go,” Chan says and guides you outside to the car, his hand doesn’t leave until you make it there and the passenger side door is open to let you in.

Everything feels kind of hazy, that was, a lot. Chan agrees too.

“I know that was a lot for you so we don’t have to but I had this whole plan to ask you if you wanted to go get some clothes and anything else you need. We can also go get food, anything you want.” Chan’s voice wavers awkwardly, like he’s a child asking their mom to go out tonight.

“I don’t have any money.”

“Oh, yeah I assumed. I planned to pay for you, everything is my treat today.” You moved your head to look at him, your face contorted in confusion.

“Why would you do that? You can’t do that.”

“I want to. I said I would take care of you two and I meant that.”

“Only because I don’t want to steal Felix’s clothes anymore. I will pay you back as soon as I can.”

“I won’t let you but if it makes you feel better I’ll let you think that.” Chan smiles and begins to drive out of the doctor’s office parking lot.

Chan explained to you how Han and Felix loved shopping here, it’s basically a one-stop shop for omegas, they had everything from clothes to nesting materials.

Chan grabbed a cart and gestured for you to look at the clothes. You decided to please the alpha by trying to look through the racks, picking out a few things that speak to you and will fit your growing body. You’re used to someone picking out your clothes for you, so this is bizarre. You find a few dresses that call your name so sweetly, you know dresses are popular for pregnant omegas due to the lack of restriction on your stomach but you’ve always yearned for dresses. Your alpha didn’t like you wearing them, he said they made you a whore. So you hesitate, holding onto a dress and looking back at Chan nervously.

“I think you’d look gorgeous in that!” He smiles, a real genuine smile that’s so sweet it makes you sick. You stare at the way his eyes crinkle just a bit too long, never wanting to forget that look, a blush sweeps across your face at the encounter, oh you’re screwed. With the alpha’s unknown permission secured you feel okay to grab a few dresses, a content purr leaves your throat before you let Chan know you’ve got what you needed.

“You said you don’t nest.” The alpha’s words spook you causing him to giggle.

“Well, I wasn’t allowed to. I’ve never even had a proper nest before in my life so I’ve learned to fight the urge. I don’t think I’d be any good at it anymore.”

“We’re gonna change that then.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna go to the nesting materials section and you’re going to pick out whatever your omega wants, and we will go home and Felix and Han will help you make a nest.”

“That’s not necessary.” You can’t help but look away from him, once again embarrassed by your past.

“It is, especially now that you’re pregnant, you need to nest.”

Nest. Build a big nest and invite Alpha in.

You blush at your omega’s inner monologue and in order to hide that from Chan you huff and walk towards the nesting material.

There’s so much stuff to pick from, it’s overwhelming, pillows, blankets, sheets, anything you could think of for a nest it was in these aisles.

“I’m not sure what I want, how do I know what I want?” The look you give Chan breaks his heart, This was supposed to come naturally for you, and here you were looking at him for the answers.

“Han usually touches everything to see what he wants, maybe try that?” His words are encouraging, giving you the strength to take his advice.

Everything is so soft, that you know for sure. Your omega leads you to a few different blankets, you’re not too intrigued by the pillows but you find a floppy long one that your omega tells you would be good as a border to the nest. Once you think you’re satisfied you turn to Chan asking for permission to be done and he agrees no questions asked.

“So, what do you wanna eat? Anything you want!” Chan smiles at you from the driver’s seat, eager to treat you.

“Whatever you want, today is all about you, I want to get you a nice meal, you deserve it okay? Don’t think too hard about it, just tell me what you’re craving and we will go get it.”

“Chicken.”

“What was that love?” Your heart skips a beat and you have to put your head against the window to hide your blush.

“I want fried chicken, please.”

“Of course sweetheart.” You can hear the massive grin on his face as he starts the car and drives off.

Chan lets you out of the car and keeps his hand out, a peace offering. He doesn’t push or take, he doesn’t even speak about it, just keeps his hand open and in your reach. So you take it, trying to push yourself because even if this is fleeting, it feels good for now.

“So what do you want? I’ll order for you!” Chan beams, still keeping your hand firmly in his.

“Hmm I don’t really like super spicy food, so the honey garlic chicken sounds nice. But if you think I should get something different, that's fine!” You blurt out the ending, suddenly nervous that you’ve upset the alpha by making a choice.

“No, you can eat whatever you want! I don’t do well with spice either so it’ll be nice to have another chicken around, maybe the guys will stop teasing me.” He lets out a laugh that leaves butterflies in your tummy, Seungmin was right, this pull, you feel it, hard. And that terrifies you.

As you sit across from Chan almost devouring your chicken you begin to hate this feeling. Like something good is right in front of you but you can’t have it, all you want is for this to be real and to finally have a pack with caring alphas but it feels too good to be true. Do you even deserve this? This feeling is magical, you almost let yourself pretend it’s real for a moment. It’s addicting, now that you’ve gotten a taste you will always want more.

“Do you like the food? This is Felix’s favorite spot, he’d eat here every day if he could. I hope we can show you more of our favorite spots, help you get to know us.” There’s that nervous twinge in his voice again, it’s endearing. You don’t think an alpha could fake that even if they tried, it’s raw and real and all Chan.

“Thank you for the food Alpha.” You say for maybe the fifth time since you got to the restaurant as you finish up your food.

“Stop thanking me, I want to take care of you, and this is a part of that. And you don’t have to call me Alpha, I’m just Chan, no need for fancy titles. Now let’s head home yeah?”

[ijustwannabecool]

Little Stormcloud

Dad!Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader

Summary... On a rainy day in Monaco, Isa’s having big feelings and Max does his best to weather the storm with her.

A/N: a little Max and Isa blurb to get you going this afternoon.

Let me know what you guys think of it. Requests are open :)

Like, comment, reblog.

Enjoy and have a beautiful day!

------

It’s raining in Monaco.

The sky is grey, thick clouds pressing low over the harbor, and Isa has decided — with all the logic of a three-year-old — that she hates it.

She’s been grumpy since breakfast. Max had given her banana slices instead of banana circles, which apparently ruined her entire morning. She didn’t want to wear socks. She did want to wear her racing suit from Halloween. She didn’t want a ponytail. She wanted to do it herself. Then cried when the hairbrush wouldn’t cooperate.

And now she’s camped out under Max’s desk like a tiny, brooding mechanic, hugging her stuffed bunny to her chest and sighing dramatically every three minutes.

Max peers down at her.

“Stormcloud,” he murmurs gently, nudging her socked foot. “How’s the mood under there?”

She glares. “Still mad.”

“Oh,” he says, pretending to wince. “Big mad or medium mad?”

She holds up both hands to demonstrate: very big.

Max slides off his chair, sitting cross-legged on the hardwood floor. His laptop pings with notifications in the background, ignored.

“Do you wanna tell Papa what made you feel so mad today?”

Isa shrugs, eyes watery. “Everything,” she whispers, bottom lip wobbling. “It’s a bad day.”

Max’s heart tugs hard in his chest.

“Bad days happen,” he says softly. “Even to the best girls.”

Isa sniffs. “Mama’s not here.”

“I know,” he says, reaching out slowly to take her hand. “She’ll be back soon, liefje.”

“She always smells like flowers.”

Max smiles. “You do too, when you wear her lotion.”

That earns a quiet giggle.

“Wanna come sit with me?” he offers. “We can look at car videos until the rain stops.”

She considers this. Then crawls into his lap, nestling her head under his chin.

Max doesn’t care that his meeting starts in ten minutes.

He pulls a soft blanket off the back of the couch and wraps it around them both.

“Do I still have to nap later?” she asks.

“We can call it a pit stop.”

“Like a fast one?”

“Super fast. Tires changed. Juice box refuel.”

Isa giggles again. “You’re silly.”

“You love it.”

“...I do.”

Later, when you return home — a little soggy, a lot tired — you find them exactly like that.

Max on the floor with his back against the wall, Isa fast asleep in his lap, tablet still playing an old F1 replay on mute. Her bunny is tucked under her arm. Her fingers still curl around the edge of Max’s hoodie.

He glances up at you, a little sheepish, hair messy and socked feet tangled in a stuffed animal pile.

“Long day?” you whisper.

Max nods. “She was a little stormcloud.”

“She always is when you’re both stuck inside,” you murmur with a grin.

You walk over and brush a kiss to Isa’s forehead, then lean down to kiss Max too — slow, warm, grateful.

“She’s lucky to have you,” you tell him.

Max looks down at the tiny body curled into his chest and whispers, “No. I’m lucky.”

[stxrrkissed]

── ۶ৎ POSSESSIVE .ᐟ

꣑ꦌ rodrick heffley x fem!reader ৴ LENGTH 615

DESCRIPTION you get mad after seeing all the girls flirting with rodrick after a show.

CONTENT jealousy ꣑ mention of arguing ꣑ p in v ꣑ some dirty talk ꣑ spanking ꣑ creampie ꣑ aftercare mentioned.

THOUGHTS another addition posted from my kinktober event that i didn't get to finish. i definitely need to write more for roddy (esp fluff), probably my fave to write at the moment.

𝒾. mlist 𝒾𝒾. previous fic 𝒾𝒾𝒾. prompts 𝒾𝓋. based on this ask

SOFT MOANS LEAVES YOUR TREMBLING LIPS AS Rodrick’s hips meets the swell of your ass, with his hand holding your right arm as he fucks you into the mattress beneath. It’s a perfect view, you have the perfect arch while your ass is on display as he drills in and out of your sopping cunt. Ever so often landing a hard smack on your ass, loving how much your pussy tightens around his cock in reaction. 

A flood of pressure flows through your body as his thrusts become stronger. Making you forget about the argument you had with him earlier. Whenever you and him have an argument, it always ends with the two of you going at it like bunny rabbits. 

Maybe it's the adrenaline of the argument that gets you turned on to the point, you want to undress him, maybe it’s whenever he raises his voice, asserting his dominance that gets you to clench your thighs together, causing friction to your aching core.

You didn’t know what it was, but who were you to stop it? 

You had just come from one of Rodrick’s gigs, you always sat in the front row so you could have a good view of your handsome man on the stage.

The show was good, you had fun until you walked backstage, catching a glimpse of some girls flirting with Rodrick, one even daring to have your hand on his arm, while he signed one of the other girls' breasts. You were used to girls flirting with Rodrick even when you were standing right next to him. 

It’s not like Rodrick would entertain any of these girls' actions and actually cheat on you but it’s the principle of not wanting to see the one you love with other girls especially if one has her hand touching him. 

Rodrick could tell something was wrong with you as you were silent the whole car ride home, not entertaining any of the conversations he brought up. You knew how much he was excited about the show as you were excited for him too, big gigs like that could get him places but the mere images of those girls just keep coming to the front of your mind. Those girls weren't the only one you were mad at, you were mad at him. 

You get that his fans mean a lot to him but he shouldn’t have been allowing them to get that close to him. The more you think about it, the more anger builds up inside of you. Once walking into the door of your shared apartment, Rodrick on your tail asking you what’s wrong and just like that, you broke and let out all the anger you’re holding in.��

That’s how you got in this position, regretting some of the words you said but enjoying the pleasure he was continuously giving to you. “Ahhh, Roddy… I’m going to cum…”

“Yeah that’s right, come all over my cock,” he demands, sending another strike to your ass. “You should know that you’re the only one I want. You know this cock belongs to you and no one can take it from you.” His reassurance is the key for the coil in your stomach to snap as your body spasms around him, your cum painting on his lower torso as some drips down your legs.

“There you go,” he coos as he continues to rut in and out of you until he flushes against your ass, emptying his load deep inside of you, his groans filling your ears as your body fully gives out slumping to the bed and he lets out a low chuckle.

“Rest baby while I clean you up.”

COMMENTS (if you want to be tagged in doawk fics, click here) @cherriespopsicle, @rain-likes-purple, @lover-of-books-and-tea, @coconut-pearl.

thank you for reading! © stxrrkissed 2025. all rights reserved — do not claim, copy, repost or translate.

[scoupsakakitty]

Please Don’t Leave Me pt.2 | idol!Mingyu x Reader | fluff

The phone buzzed against the car's dashboard, but the call went straight to voicemail—just like all the others before it. Mingyu let out a sharp exhale, gripping the steering wheel tightly before pressing the phone to his ear as the familiar automated message ended.

"Y/N, you're leaving me no choice," his voice was hoarse, exhausted. "I'm on my way to your dorm. I can’t keep waiting for you to answer. We need to talk. You can be mad at me, you can yell at me, but you can’t ignore me. Not anymore."

With that, he hung up and started the engine, his heart pounding against his ribs as he sped off towards the university. The rain drizzled lightly, the city lights blurring against his windshield, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were consumed by her. By them. By everything he was about to lose if he didn’t do something.

When he arrived, he parked haphazardly, not caring if he was in a student-only parking zone. He stepped out, pulling his hood up to shield himself, but it was useless. The moment he walked through campus, he could feel the weight of eyes on him. Whispered voices, subtle gasps—some had recognized him. But he didn't care. He had one goal.

Stopping in front of her dorm room, he knocked. No answer. He knocked again, harder this time. "Y/N, open the damn door." His voice was firm, unwavering. "I'm not leaving until you do."

A few seconds passed, and then—

The door swung open so fast he barely had time to react before Y/N’s hand gripped his wrist and yanked him inside. She slammed the door shut behind him, her eyes wide with disbelief and frustration. "Are you insane? Showing up here like this? Now people will definitely know you’re here! And then you knock like that? Desperate much?" Her voice was laced with panic.

Mingyu took a deep breath, stepping closer. "You left me no other choice. If you had just picked up the phone, if you had answered even one of my thousand messages, I wouldn't have had to come here."

She crossed her arms, her expression hard. "I don’t have to answer just because you call."

His jaw clenched. "Then I have to show up."

Silence settled between them, heavy and unyielding. Finally, she sighed, rubbing her temple. "What do you want, Mingyu?"

His brows furrowed, disbelief flickering in his eyes. "What do you mean, what do I want? Isn't it obvious? I want you. I want us. I can’t do this without you."

She scoffed, turning away. "Mingyu, wanting something doesn’t always mean you get to have it."

He ran a hand through his damp hair, frustration evident. "I talked to my management. I told them I want to go public with our relationship. I don’t care about the consequences. I don’t care about the fans who won’t support it. If they love me, they need to accept that I love you. That I can’t live without you."

Her breath hitched, but she remained silent.

"You’re not happy without me, Y/N. Just like I’m not happy without you. I know it. You know it. So why are we doing this?" His voice cracked, raw and pleading.

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the hem of her sweatshirt. "Mingyu... the stress, the sasaengs, the threats—it’s too much. Even if we go public, that won’t change overnight. And you’re always traveling. I barely got to see you before, how will it be any different?"

"I’ll take you with me." His answer was immediate. "We’ll talk to your university. My management has connections—we can figure out a way for you to do your studies online. That way, you can be with me. I can protect you."

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "I can’t afford online tuition, Mingyu. I can barely afford my fees as it is."

His heart ached at the helplessness in her voice. Slowly, gently, he reached for her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. "That’s what you’re worried about? Y/N, come on. How many times have I offered to pay for your tuition? Let me take care of you. Let me give you the life you deserve."

"I don’t want to be a burden to you," she whispered.

"You're not a burden. You're my life." His voice was thick with emotion. "Stop finding reasons for this not to work. I can and will fix everything, but I need you to fight with me. For us."

For a long moment, she just stared at him. At the exhaustion in his face, the desperation in his voice. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. Like he was drowning.

Finally, she exhaled shakily, placing her hand over his chest, feeling the steady, desperate thump of his heart. "Okay... you’re right." Her voice broke. "I’m sorry, Mingyu. I’m so sorry for making us suffer like this. Please forgive me."

A choked sob of relief escaped him as he pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. "You won’t regret this, I promise."

She let out a watery laugh as he peppered kisses all over her face—her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. "Mingyu, stop! You're acting like a puppy."

He grinned, setting her down but not letting go. "Now that I finally have you back, I’m never letting go again."

His eyes flickered around her room, taking it in for the first time in person. "So this is your room, huh? I’ve only seen it on FaceTime. Cozy. I like it."

She rolled her eyes, nudging him playfully. "It’s small, but it’s mine."

"Not for long," he mused. "Once you start online classes, you’ll be moving out. Either to my dorm or, better yet, our own place. And when I’m on tour, you’ll stay with me. We’ll share hotel rooms, wake up together, fall asleep together. Doesn’t that sound perfect?"

Her heart swelled at the thought. "I always wanted to go on tour with you, to be honest."

Mingyu’s lips curled into a soft smile. "Then it’s settled. From now on, we’re always together. No more secrets. No more hiding. No more distance."

He cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheek. "I love you, Y/N. More than anything. And I’ll spend every single day proving that to you."

Her heart melted as she whispered, "I love you too."

And as he kissed her, sealing their promise, she knew—this time, they were going to make it.

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — RYOMEN SUKUNA. a better man.

about. you’re a girl that’s way out of his league and he’s the bad boy you couldn’t help but fall for. what happens when ryomen sukuna fails to meet you in the middle?

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, suggestive towards the end, no curses!au, modern!au, it’s implied that sukuna is in a gang, mentions of fights, reader is a rich girl, they’re kinda in love :( bad boy!sukuna, fem!reader.

“you’re mad at me. aren’cha?”

sukuna mutters with an air of faux nonchalance as he lazily jogs up the final marble steps that lead up to the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at nearly two hours ago. the evening traffic zips by, red and white headlights parting through the rain to illuminate your boyfriend’s features. heavy water droplets take residence on the slope of his nose and Cupid’s bow, some even daring to cling on to the tips of dusty rose-coloured hair.

if you weren’t so angry right now, you might take a moment to appreciate how good sukuna looks in the moment — especially with the way the rain makes the designer tux you’d gotten for him cling to his skin. exposing every ridge and dip and curve in his muscle while his inky black tattoos become all the more visible.

“of course i’m mad.” you step aside to let sukuna under the shelter of the entrance, avoiding him as he swoops down for his usual hug and kiss. “tonight is important. it was important.”

“babe c’mon on, i was—“

“you were late. they’re serving dessert in there, ryomen.” your tone is coloured with shades of annoyance and a hint of warning. like a mother about to lecture her child. you’re pissed. it’s written all over your face too — in the way that your brows crease and you pout so adorably. he’ll try to play it off, like he doesn’t care, but it almost makes sukuna sick to his stomach to know that you’re angry with him.

the rain picks up outside of the restaurant and you continue. “all you had to do was show up on time. come to this stupid fancy restaurant and be there to meet my parents. but of course, you got yourself caught up in—“ you grab his dress shirt in frustration, noticing the blood on the collar that doesn’t belong to him. his split knuckles and the bruise on his lips. “— in whatever this is.” you roll your eyes, blood boiling.

“it’s nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” sukuna scoffs, lips spreading wide in his signature smirk. the excuse is lame, but he doesn’t want you to worry for him any longer. “since when did you care about what your parents think, anyways?” but you see it in his eyes, that same old worry. that he’s not good enough for you, that a scumbag like him doesn’t deserve a pretty girl like you. he’s always told you to find someone better, someone able to feed into the glitz and glamour that you were brought up in.

but you’ve always told ryomen sukuna that you have everything you need right there with him.

cupping his face, the heat of anger dispels from your body and you exhale deeply though your nose. “i don’t care about what my parents think. if i did, i wouldn’t be dating you.” you cast a thumb over the thick lines of ink decorating his face, accenting sukuna’s high cheekbones and chiselled features while the rest of your fingers sink into his smooth, dark undercut. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t want you to meet them. they’re just as special to me as you are. i want the most important people in my life to know each other.”

your boyfriend’s hands settle on your wrists as he grunts noncommittally, indicating that he’s aware of his wrong doings. if there’s one thing that sukuna hates, it’s upsetting you. he doesn’t care what the world thinks of him, it’s never mattered before. yet, even the slightest look of disappointment from you has the man in shambles. “‘m sorry,” he drawls, his grip on you shifting down to cup your waist — pulling you flush against him. “what can a guy like me do to make it up to you?”

“you can go on in there and charm the hell out of my rich, uptight parents so that we can hurry up and go home,” your voice lowers an octave as you stand on your tip toes for the extra height so that you can nip at the shell of sukuna’s ear. “where you can rip this dress off’a me.”

“such a dirty mouth for such’a prim ‘n proper girl, hm? i should wash it out with soap.” he purrs right back, leaning down to kiss at your neck until you’ve had enough of his frayed pink hair tickling your skin. he damn near melts when your fingers inch up to tug at his roots — earning a deep and thrilling growl from the man. “that was a dirty move. who taught you that?”

“my good for nothing boyfriend, he’s kind of a bad influence.” you tease back, despite having to physically push sukuna away in order to avoid setting off his inner beast before dinner with your parents is done — and instead, take to grabbing his larger hand in yours so you can lead him from the front of house to your family’s reserved table.

and like always, sukuna trails after you like a lost puppy enamoured with the person that found them, have them love and warmth. because, while you didn’t change him, you made him want to be better — to give up the knives in his back and the bullets looking over his head for something better. something softer.

something like you.

ryomen sukuna wanted to become the someone he thought you deserved.

that’s why he put on this stupid suit and tie, why he let you take his hand, why he follows you to the the table that’s sure to seal his fate with you.

behind all that rough exterior, is a man who loves you.

and in front of sukuna, is a girl who loves him and all of his flaws right back.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[castielthinkr]

UNCONDITIONAL [uhn-kuhn-dish-uh-nl] adjective. not limited by conditions; absolute

sam x fem!reader ft. dean cw suggestive (mdni), little bit of angst, set sometime in the early seasons bc i love baby sam, reader is shorter than sam, switch sam my beloved wc 1014

summary sam can’t get enough of you notes whiny sam ib this scene from house of wax

when dean had left the two of you alone in a motel room for the night, he hadn’t imagined he’d wake up to sam alone and miserable.

and yet, there he was.

“where’s-”

“she’s gone, dean,” his brother had huffed, “long gone.”

he hadn’t prodded any further. you were one of sam’s many soft spots. a hunter yourself, you knew the risks of getting close to people. sam had thought that with both of you being hunters it would offer some reprieve, would allow you to open up to him and begin something, anything. he was almost desperate for you, but you left anyway, claiming it was too dangerous.

of course, he knew that most hunters isolated themselves. bobby and gordon sprang to mind immediately.

still, he had hope.

you saw each other again some months later. this time, you’d helped the boys on a case, sticking around long enough for sam to get to know you somewhat better. it frustrated him to no end that he couldn’t get further than the walls you’d built up, but he understood.

you hadn’t spent the night together the way you had three times before then, instead parting ways at sundown with a kiss that could have rivalled romeo and juliet. sam was addicted to your lips, your eyes, your body. you weren’t faring any better; sam’s body on yours and the noises he made played on your mind constantly.

and then: radio silence. once again.

even dean was beginning to worry about you. you normally checked in with them, especially after a tough case, but they’d heard nothing for weeks upon weeks.

that was, until you showed up at their motel door.

dean had ushered you in out of the rain immediately after taking the necessary precautions (read: splashing you with holy water). you were tired, a little bloodied, and soaked to the bone, but otherwise okay. he sat you on a bed and brought you a towel, allowing you a moment of peace before he threw questions at you.

“you’ve had sammy worry sick, y’know,” he said, giving you yet another once over.

“i know, i’m sorry. i’ve been on a long hunt. no cell service for weeks,” you said, wringing out your hair.

“and?”

“a werewolf clan. six of them. had to pick them off one by one and the last one chased me here. i killed it on the border of town and by then i had nothing. no supplies other than the clothes on my back and weapons in my hand and god knows what in my pockets,” you explained.

dean whistled. “so how’d you find us?”

“i called-” you started, as the door swung open. you tensed, immediately relaxing the second you saw a mop of brown hair atop a lanky frame.

“sammy,” you whispered.

sam’s head snapped to you, which dean took as his cue to leave.

“hey,” you said lamely, standing.

“where have you been?” sam said immediately. you could tell he was torn between being mad at you for disappearing and worried at your complete absence from the world.

“a hunt. it’s a long story. i had no cell service for two weeks,” you said, stood stock still. you didn’t want to startle the man in front of you, instead letting him come to you.

“i’ve missed you,” he all but whispered, closing the distance between you and putting his hands on your waist.

“i’m sorry,” you replied. he leaned down to kiss you, one hand coming up to cradle your neck.

your lips met, beginning slow but soon moving towards something more like hungry. you’d been starved of each other for too long, and sam didn’t intend to let you go this time. he chased your lips as you backed away for air, moving once again to the bed.

“that one’s dean’s,” sam said against your lips, directing you to his own bed. you giggled, making your way over and allowing sam to sit on his bed. you stood inbetween his legs, craning your neck down a little to kiss him more.

he slipped his tongue in your mouth, pulling you impossibly closer to him. you ran your hands across his broad shoulders, down his toned chest, as his own danced up and down your back, occasionally reaching your ass. he moved back towards the headboard, pulling you onto his lap. you straddled his thighs with your own, practically crawling to him. you looked down at him through half-lidded eyes as he looked at you, nothing but adoration on his face. you leaned in once more, connecting again.

sam’s hands travelled further, spreading across your waist and against your stomach, settling eventually underneath your thighs. yours migrated down, feeling his abs and oh so carefully brushing his obvious erection. at that, sam let out a whine, which he tried to stop almost immediately. you smirked at him.

“haven't heard that one before,” you said, teasing him.

he rolled his eyes playfully. “yeah, well, i was on top last time.”

“maybe we should do this more often then.”

sam’s response was to pull you in again, to which you let out a gasp, making him smile into the kiss. he ran his hand through your hair and you moaned, at which point dean chose to enter the room again.

“c’mon guys, i don’t wanna see that shit,” he complained dramatically, covering his eyes.

you sighed and rolled off sam’s lap. he pulled a pillow onto it in your place to hide the bulge in his jeans.

“don’t just barge in like that then,” sam retorted, obviously annoyed at his brother.

“‘s not my fault you two chose to get it on in our shared motel room!”

you rolled your eyes at their bickering, leaning down to get the towel you’d forgotten the minute you saw sam and using it to dry your hair. looking over at sam, you knew it would be hard to leave him again. you couldn’t stay forever - all three of you knew that - but maybe this time you could stay for longer.

[novemberheart]

{overview} Your pack comes home

{warnings} fem reader, cursing, a/b/o dynamics, poly 141, chapter story, short chapter, fighting, slight angst

Chapter 36 <- Chapter 37 -> Chapter 38

“John I”-

“Get in now,” he growled lowly. You swallowed, holding Vernie closer in comfort. Kyle stayed by the car opening the door for you. Both of them were being pelted by rain. You swore you could see steam coming off of them.

“Kyle,” you started. He nodded his head towards the car, urging you along. You crawled in, already shedding your backpack off. The car was warm, infested with the putrid smell of an angry alpha. The door shut behind you, Kyle and John getting in the front.

This wasn't the reunion you had expected.

You could probably say the same for them.

Your eyes locked on the rearview mirror, hoping to catch John’s gaze. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel, the only sound being some labored breathing and rain snapping against the military-grade vehicle. You chewed your bottom lip, angling yourself towards Kyle.

You wanted to touch him.

You refrained.

The car came to another screeching halt, both men getting out. John opened the door for you this time. He refused to look at you. It was in the elevator when you started to crack. You resisted the urge to throw yourself at John, instead curling against the elevator wall.

“Go take a shower and get warm,” John commanded, opening the front door. Johnny and Simon were at the counter. You whimpered low in your throat, Johnny’s face curling At the sound. Simon was looking at you.

His eyes were completely unreadable beside the glimmer of dissatisfaction. He didn’t even seem angry. Maybe John was angry enough for the both of them.

You couldn’t bear it.

You latched onto Simon first, loud sobs wracking your body. He was stiff under you for a moment, before melting against you. It was biological.

“Stupid girl,” he grumbled, lips rough against your raw cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you sputtered, your claws tearing the thick layers covering his shoulder. He pulled away, his hand resting against your stomach to keep distance between the two of you.

“Go shower. We’ll talk then,” he commanded. You sniffled, nodding in agreement. You picked Vernie off the floor heading towards the bathroom to get her dried off. You shedded your clothes, opening the bathroom door just enough for Vernie to slip back through. She immediately paddled over to Johnny who hoisted her up, his nose resting against her scruff.

She smelled like you.

The bathroom door opened while you were in the shower, Kyle’s arm darting in to drop off a few clothes before closing.

They couldn’t be that mad.

Maybe the fact you had been separated so long was working in your favor.

They were sitting on the couch when you came out. It was eerily quiet, all of them sitting up straight upon your arrival.

“I want you to start with your visit to the medical center,” John spoke, leading as always. You decided to settle on the floor, the carpet plush under your knees.

“You were looking at my chip?” You questioned.

“Of course. That’s why we got it,” He replied instantly.

You had them right where you wanted.

“You had time to do that but none to call me?” You shot back. “I’m not an idiot. I’ve been marked. No effort is needed anymore,” you grumbled.

They didn’t like that.

Well, neither did you.

The hairs on your neck stood up at the sound of their low growls. It was like they did it unintentionally, immediately cutting themselves off as you shrunk back.

“Laswell had access to it,” Kyle spoke. “She’d keep us updated. We weren’t in a position to contact you,” Kyle explained. It felt condescending. Like all of them were confused as to the point you were trying to make.

“I don’t believe you,” you replied bluntly. “Before you were able to contact me every few days at least then all of a sudden that changed?” You questioned.

“Yes,” Simon interjected. “Calling you would lead to risks and put you in danger.”

“You could’ve sent a message through Laswell,” you argued.

“We couldn't,” Simon affirmed. “You're just going to have to understand that,” Simon barked, moving to a stand. Your face curled, your body following close behind. You rested your chin against your knees. John sighed, running a hand over his face.

“Why’d you go to the medical center?” John pressed. His voice was softer, resembling your alpha.

“I fell earlier this week. I thought it was okay but it started to look infected. I got it taken care of.”

They hated how monotone you sounded.

“Went by yourself?” Johnny spoke up. You knew he would have the biggest problem with you going through something like that alone.

“No one was here,” you spat back.

John stood up and Simon spun on his heels. Both of them opened their mouths to speak. John was able to get the words out faster.

“Stop actin’ like you weren't taken care of,” he growled. “Yes, you were alone, and I did everything in my power to make sure that didn't happen, but you were safe here. We made sure you had enough to last you for three times the amount of time we were supposed to be gone. It may not feel like it sometimes but everything we do is for you, even things you don't quite see,” he finished with a shaky breath.

“Really? So sitting in a hospital room alone, absolutely terrified of what's wrong with me is you taking care of me?”

“Course not,” he shot back. “I hate that you had to go through that and were without the people that are supposed to make things alright for you. But you understood what would happen if you joined this pack. I’ll put you first- no matter what- but it can't always be instant,” he spoke through a clenched jaw.

You could feel yourself softening by the minute.

You hated it.

You weren't ready to just get over it.

They had cut you off like it was nothing. Even now they sat before you showing very little signs of actually missing you. Maybe they were still angry at you for leaving the base.

“Can I go to bed now?” you asked quietly.

“No,” Simon responded. “The hell were you thinking leaving base?”

“Self sabotage?” you shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to get back at all of you for leaving me for so long. Maybe I wanted to prove to myself that I could actually do something. Maybe I wanted to see if it would make you come home,” you choked, turning your head over your shoulder.

They remained silent.

This was unbearable. Your eyes red and swollen. The sting of lemons in the air. Your knotted hair.

All because of them.

And their fucking jobs.

“Should bloody ‘retire’ after this,” John growled, taking a large puff of his cigar. Nothing sounded better at the moment. Two weeks away from you hitting him like a truck. He could retire from the field and resign himself to paperwork. He’d get the two of you a house with some land for you and Vernie to run around. Take you into town for dates. Take you out on the lake and teach you how to fish. He’d grill every night and the two of you would end each night looking at the stars.

His radio going off snapped him out of his thoughts.

Simon groaned at his headache, popping another pill in his mouth. They were some form of suppressants. It was supposed to make being away from you easier. Those who had insisted they worked obviously didn't have an omega like you.

“Right behind you,” Simon nearly chuckled.

He wasn't quite ready to retire yet. He still had some fight in him. But he had underestimated just how much you had domesticated him. The thought of stretching out in a recliner with you propped on his lap was far more compelling than this.

The betas had been worse off. Johnny had been acting like a zombie since day four. His fingers are constantly rolling the bracelet you had made him between his fingers. Kyle was just prick. Growing more and more frustrated each time he was denied access to you, whether by phone or through tracking. At least they had Laswell.

They had to persevere.

The enemy was lurking around. Waiting for one slip up. One thing to hold over their head.

What better thing than you?

“Don’t do it again,” John chided coldly. You wiped your eyes against your shoulder, nodding.

“Can I go to bed now?” You repeated, even softer than before. “All of you are tired too,” you added, already moving to a stand.

Their brows furrowed as you made your way towards your door.

Your mattress was still in John’s room from your heat. There had been no reason to move it back.

Had you moved it back?

“Fat fucking chance,” Johnny growled, connecting the distance. “Just got back from a month of hell and I’d rather die than sleep alone,” he gruffed. “That’s the only way you could get me to sleep alone,” he added. His hands found your waist, easily lifting you up. A small moan escaped you at the contact, your body begrudgingly aching for his touch. He purred roughly, his nose buried in your neck. His hand twisted the knob to your room. You hadn’t moved anything back. John breathed a sigh of relief.

“What were you going to do? Sleep on the floor?” John questioned.

“I want to be by myself,” you breathed, your legs trying to touch the ground.

“You’ve been by yourself enough,” Kyle piqued up. “In that head of yours,” he murmured the last part. You were tossed on the bed, the sheets cold and uninviting. The pit in your stomach only grew, your face hiding itself in the pillows. Johnny flopped down next to you, Kyle following suit. John and Simon remained in the doorway, Simon disappearing towards his room.

You were sandwiched between the two betas, which was all you had wanted the past few weeks. Now you wanted anything else.

“Some forced proximity will do you good,” Kyle sighed, his arm tossed over you and Johnny. You remained silent and still, breathing in the familiar scent of your nest. It smelt like you. No traces of your pack embedded within its fibers. It wasn’t theirs anymore. It was yours.

It was yours.

They were infringing on your territory.

A nasty snarl escaped you, causing both betas to take a scoot back.

“Bonbon?” Johnny breathed. The sound could’ve rivaled an alphas. Their stomach churned, John shifting on his feet. The noise echoing in his brain, his alpha on fight mode. Something had frightened you. His eyes shrunk, looking for a threat.

The air escaping his lungs when he realized.

They were the threats.

He bit the inside of his cheek, his mouth tangy from copper.

“Give ‘er space you two,” he commanded. “Now,” his voice urgent. The betas crawled out slowly, their eyes pleading- their eyes waiting. Waiting for you to whine and usher them back into bed. Pleading for you to seek comfort in them. Instead they got your back, your scent increasing in the air to drown out theirs. John grabbed them both by the arm, pulling them towards the door.

They felt a wave of relief when you stood up, face downcast as you headed towards the door. Johnny extended his arm, ready to meet you in the middle. That was quickly replaced with dread when it shut in their faces.

Hi friends! 👋See you in four days for chapter 38! As always lots of love 🧡

[hatsbuckets]

You know cuteness aggression? Okay I've got to post about this because auhsdfkjahdg

So. I think it is so funny that I get cuteness aggression with my military contract buddies who at this point are these like, six-foot guys who eat like bears and have the metabolism of a, well, 20 something year old man who's going into the military. And they all run laps around me when we work out. Could easily send my ass flying. They're attractive men, strong, capable, intelligent. I've seen them mad, and I've seen them goofing off. TLDR: big strong masculine guys, in my head, adorable little guys who just :)))

Anyway, that but with the 141. because they've all seen the HorrorsTM, but like they're adorbs. cod headcanons

Price: The kind of man who walks into a room and everyone straightens up—even ghosts. That voice alone could make a grown man confess to a crime he didn’t commit. He commands respect, strategy pouring off him in waves, like he’s always two steps ahead and already thinking five moves past that. But then he calls someone “son” or ruffles Soap’s hair with a fond grunt, and your heart does a stupid little backflip. He's got that small little smile that makes his nose scrunch and his eyes wrinkle. He looks like he gives warm, solid hugs that smell like tobacco and rain. He’s the kind of dangerous that comes with deep, quiet love. You see him smirk at a teammate’s dumb joke and suddenly your brain screams, “You’re too powerful. Too cute. Sit down. I need to wrap you in a blanket, squeeze that lovely waist, and make you tea before I scream.”

Ghost: Unsettling by default—calm in a way that is more threat than comfort. He moves like smoke and has the stare of a man who’s seen things (he has), a man who's crawled through hell and back to the light of day… he has this subtle, dry humor that sneaks up on you. You’ll catch him giving Soap the side-eye while sipping coffee like the long-suffering lieutenant that he is. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay, he just slides a protein bar into your hand and mutters something like “Didn’t eat today, did you?” in a way that makes your chest hurt. The mask doesn’t hide his warmth, it makes it more intense when it shows. You’ll be minding your business and he says something quietly caring and suddenly you’re thinking, “Oh my god, I’m going to tackle you. Bite you. I’m going to hug you so hard and bury my face so deep into your chest it counts as a threat.”

Gaz: Gaz is quiet competence and sharp eyes, the guy who notices everything and makes it look easy. He cares so deeply, wants it to be right. Wants to do good with a passion something fierce. Kills and moves and learns and fights. Protects. He’s got your back without asking, pulls you out of danger with a firm hand and a quick, “I’ve got you.” He fights like a soldier and jokes like a best friend, charming without trying and always ready to remind someone to hydrate. But then he grins, full and bright, like sunshine through storm clouds, and you’re left staring like an idiot. He calls you “mate” in that soft London accent and you consider violence, affectionate violence, because how dare he be so good at everything and sweet? You’d trust him with your life—and also want to flick the brim of his cap for making your chest feel all warm and weird.

Soap: Johnny is the walking embodiment of chaotic sunshine strapped to a rocket launcher. He’ll laugh mid-gunfight, throw out a bad pun after a breaching charge, and wink like he didn’t just take out a sniper two clicks out. He’s got that devil-may-care grin—but then he says something insightful that shows he’s been watching, listening, really caring, and it knocks you on your ass. You’ll watch this strong, agile, tactically trained man do a parkour move off a wall and immediately trip over his own shoelace, and all you can think is, “I will kiss your forehead and strangle you and tug on that stupid mohawk and squish your cheeks.” He is somehow every golden retriever in a tactical vest and you love him for it.

Anyway, okay byeeeeee

[wetdarkprincess]

Burn the City for Me- Jay Park

✦ CONTENT: nsfw! smut, mafia au, dom!Jay, cuffs kink, power imbalance, intense makeout, bloody rescue mission, guns & violence, possessive behavior, deep emotional tension, unhinged love, clothes still on sex, chain kink, aftercare, blood-stained kisses, criminal lovers, dangerously in love

✦ WORDCOUNT: 2k (English is not my first language, so forgive any grammar mistakes or weird phrasing)

✦ NOTES: mdni. adult content. don’t like, don’t read. this is dark romance dipped in gasoline and kissed by fire. unhinged love story between two people who would literally kill for each other. soft hands and hard crime. you're not ready.

We’re not innocent. We’re not clean. But we’re real. And we’re together. And that’s enough to burn everything else.

The white lights of the interrogation room burned my eyes.The cuffs dug into my wrists, and my face stung from the blows.I was exhausted. My legs ached from running from the police.Everything had gone wrong.I just wanted a new dress.I was even going to pay cash.

Agent Olinsky walked in with that superiority complex of his, a file under his arm.He threw it onto the metal table with disgust and leaned in with both hands.

—Miss… welcome back.

I looked up and smiled as best I could, lips cracked. —Hello, Mr. Suit. What brings you here?

—Besides your never-ending record? I want you to give him up. You could get a reduced sentence.

—You think I’m going to turn in my fiancé?-I lifted my cuffed hands to show him the most expensive diamond on the market, still shining on my ring finger.—We’re a promise. We’re a pact.

He frowned in disgust.Ripped the ring off without hesitation.

—Hey! —I shouted, trying to stand, but he shoved me back into the chair. The metal dug into my spine.

—Stay put, you damn rat. No more talking. You’ll give him up, and you’ll both rot in separate prisons. You don’t deserve to be happ-

He never finished the sentence.A bullet ripped through his skull.His body hit the table, bleeding all over my Chanel outfit.

The alarms blared.The lights flickered.The door opened.My fiancé, Jay, stepped into the room like a god of war.

—Hello, gorgeous —he whispered.Dressed all in black, bulletproof vest hugging his torso, the gold chain I gave him gleaming like a promise.And that smile.That smile that could take down governments or make my legs shake.

—Baby… —I stood as best I could, thighs trembling, heart pounding.

He rushed to me, reading the pain in my body like scripture, and wrapped me in his arms.His mouth met mine, and time shattered.He kissed me like he had just saved me from the end of the world, like I was his home after chaos.When we pulled apart, our foreheads touched, breaths mingling.He reached for my hand and frowned.

—Where’s your ring, baby?

—That idiot took it —I glanced at the bloodied corpse on the table.

Jay walked over, silent.He spat on the body and kicked the man’s head.Snatched the blood-soaked ring and slipped it back on my finger with brutal tenderness.

—Let’s get out of here. I’ll leave the cuffs on you... might use them later.

A gasp escaped me. My panties were already soaked.

Jay swept me into his arms like a groom, and we ran through the shadowed corridors of the station beneath screaming alarms. Sirens exploded like cursed fireworks in the dead of night.

Red and blue flashed against the walls like someone had turned hell into a nightclub. Jay carried me like I weighed nothing, dodging bullets, officers, and shouts like this was all part of some deranged choreography. His grip was a vow: You’re not slipping away now. Not after this.

Rain poured as we burst into the courtyard. Hot, thick, mixing with gun smoke. Two black cars smashed through the front gate. A dozen of our men jumped out with rifles. It was a dance of chaos and gunpowder. Concrete shattered beneath our feet. The sky roared like it approved our madness.

—Cover her! —Jay yelled, laying me behind an overturned car, his whole body shielding mine, every muscle tight, every heartbeat screaming protection. Glass exploded. Blood painted the asphalt. An officer charged and Jay shot him without hesitation. His face didn’t flinch.

I watched him move —shoot, duck, reload, scream orders.

My king.

My damn hero.

A black car slid to our position like a loyal beast. Jay threw open the door, pushed me inside, and jumped in after. The tires screeched. We left behind a symphony of death and freedom. Bodies fell like raindrops. I panted, soaked in sweat and adrenaline.

My wrists burned from the cuffs. My thighs burned from the bruises. My chest burned from being alive. He didn’t speak for a while. Just drove.

Fury, desire, and devotion burning in his eyes.Until finally, he reached for my hand.

—Got you, baby. It’s over. He pulled me into his lap, and I buried my face in his neck.

His scent. His skin. His promise that everything would be okay.Outside, it was still raining, but I didn’t care. The world was behind us.

The drive to the safehouse was short and silent, heavy with the buzz of fading adrenaline and unspoken desire. The property was surrounded: armed guards, armored vehicles, men stationed at every corner. But to me, the only thing real was that he was still here. Alive. Mine.

He carried me inside like I was breakable, precious. We climbed the stairs to the master bedroom, where our trusted doctor was waiting.

Jay laid me down on the bed with hands that lingered. He looked at me one last time.

—I’ll be back soon, baby. Let him patch you up. Don’t take off the cuffs —he smirked, and I burned.

He left without a rush, but his presence stayed thick in the air. His scent. His fire. I let them tend to me. The doctor worked fast. They cleaned the wounds, helped me change. I couldn’t move much—not with my wrists still cuffed in front of me. But I didn’t care. He did this for a reason. He always did. Then I heard him return.

The doctor nodded and left. Jay closed the door slowly, deliberately. His eyes roamed my body like I was a map he’d memorized and still couldn’t get enough of. He was barefoot, shirtless, the gold chain gleaming over his chest like a vow.

—Look what they did to you —he murmured, stalking forward. I sat on the bed, wearing his shirt, wrists still chained, lips swollen from the earlier kiss.I tried to say something, but his eyes stole the breath from mine.He knelt before me, resting his forehead on my knees .—I thought I lost you, baby. Five fucking hours not knowing if someone was hurting you, yelling at you, touching you — His voice cracked as his hands brushed my ankles.—I swear to God, if I hadn’t made it in time...I cupped his face with my shackled hands and forced him to look up. His eyes burned.

—But you did —I whispered, smiling through the cracks—. And I always knew you would.

He rose, eyes locked on mine. Pushed me gently back on the bed, knee between my thighs, mouth crashing against mine like we were still running. He kissed me with rage, with devotion, with promise.

He pulled the shirt over my head and looked at me like stolen art.Untouchable by all, but his.

—Look what you do to me —he growled, voice low, vibrating in my chest—. I’ve never been this fucking hard. You looked so damn beautiful, blood on your face, fire in your eyes. So mine. So perfect. His mouth claimed my chest, slow and reverent. His hands, possessive. Starved.— Seeing you in those cuffs… so helpless, but your eyes still ruling the room. He dragged a finger along the chain.—You’re staying like this all night. Got it? I want to remember you like this. All mine. Can’t touch me.

—And if I want to touch you? —I whispered, breathless.

—You can’t. Not until I say. Tonight, I’m in charge —his fingers slid between my thighs, making me tremble—. I’m going to break you until you beg me to take the cuffs off.

And even then… I might not. His mouth lowered.nAnd the rest of the night was fire .Time blurred. His hands. His mouth. His voice. Each kiss was a mark. Each command, a sin. He stripped the rest of his clothes, ripped me open with reverence, stared at me like I was a treasure chest and he was starving.

—I keep thinking you can’t get more beautiful. And then this.His fingers moved inside me with perfect memory.I moaned, cuffed, powerful despite being bound —because he looked at me like I was invincible.—You’re so wet you’re gonna make me lose my mind —he muttered—. I don’t know if I deserve this. But I swear I’ll give you everything I have.

He thrust into me slow, deep, then harder. Each movement a brand.Each breath, a prayer. Each fuck, a promise. l begged, called his name, pleaded. The cuffs stayed on. And it only made me crave more.

We were sin.

We were fire.

No one else could love me like this. No one else could touch me like this.Only him. His rhythm broke, wild, and he kissed me with his teeth, with his tongue, with his soul. He tore me down. Built me back up.And when we came, we did it together—like fugitives outrunning the world with nothing left but love and ruin.

The silence after was intimate enough to hurt.He unlocked the cuffs, kissed the red marks.—Sorry, baby —he whispered—. I won’t do it again… unless you ask me to.

I laughed, still trembling. He held me like we were teenage lovers and not the country’s most wanted. I buried my face in his neck. He smelled like gunpowder and luxury. Like home.

—Are we safe?

—For now. Tomorrow we vanish. New names. New city. New life.

—But together

—Always together, baby.

And if the world tries to tear us apart again,I swear I’ll burn it all down.We stayed like that.Marked by love, sex, blood. The gold chain on his chest catching the light.My wrists still burned.And outside, the night fell over the city like a promise.One we were going to break.

Together.

© wetdarkprincess 2025

[melwnst]

────── ⋆⋅☆ MIDNIGHT CONFESSIONS, D.W

summary. You and Dean always find your way back to each other.

⭑.ᐟ this is part 2 of unanswered, read part 1 here(it’s kinda sad). I loved writing this one🫡, please interact and request if u have any! <3

word count.870

supernatural masterlist/full masterlist

──────────୨ৎ──────────

Dean’s not sure how long he’s been standing in front of your door. His feet ache, his hands sore from keeping them in fists for so long, his entire body wet from the rain that started falling harder not long ago. His eyes still adjusting to the night that fell probably hours ago.

You’re on the bed, but you can feel him. You’re not sure how exactly- but you know that he’s right behind your door. You feel his presence, you can almost hear his brain running, his heart beating fast.

You decide not to open the door, not until he decides to knock.

You were harsh-the last time you saw him. It was only a couple days ago, but being without him, the dread felt too heavy- like it’s been months since he last touched you.

Maybe you didn’t tell him the right way- or telling him he was a coward wasn’t the right thing to do, but it’s too late to take it back. Plus- it seems like it worked in the end, if he does decide to knock instead of turning back.

Dean doesn’t know why he’s stuck. He woke up thinking it was going to go smoothly. He was going to show up at your door apologize, tell you he loves you, and all would be good.

But now that he’s here? He’s not so sure he can.

Except he does. You stand behind the door for what feels like hours before you hear the slight knock on your door.

It’s barely here, so hesitant, you can barely hear it over the rain falling outside.

A part of you fights. It fights to not open the door, let him stay in the rain a little longer to make sure that he really wants to be here- but you can’t wait any longer.

You swing the door open, and Dean stands there, his hands in his jacket’s pockets. His hair is dripping on the wooded floor, his clothes sticking to his body, he looks so-desperate.

One second, Dean feels like he can’t speak. The next- seeing you standing there looking so hopeful that he won’t disappoint you, his throat isn’t so tight anymore. He can actually speak without feeling like he’s about to break any second.

‘Just hear me out, please.’ Is what he manages to say before you step out of the room. Maybe it’s not logical- you should let him in, but because he’s so wet, the only thing crossing your mind is joining him in the rain, because you just want to hear him say it-you don’t think.

‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me- I wanted to answer. You didn’t deserve that.’ Dean looks up, he almost looks like a sick dog.

‘No, I didn’t.’ Maybe your tone is harsh. You don’t want to be so mad over the fact that he can’t say it because you know he wants to. You know the only reason he didn’t is because he was scared to let you in. What you’re mad about - is that he didn’t trust you enough to tell you- to let you in- to not break your heart.

‘I’m sorry.’ Dean steps closer. Your arms were crossed on your chest, now they’re being held by him. His hands go from your elbows to hold your hands. He brings them up to his mouth, and kisses them ever so slightly, making you close your eyes.

‘Why didn’t you just trust me?’ You open your eyes to see Dean sigh with his head down.

‘I trust you. I trust you, it wasn’t that.’ He nods his head.

You step even closer to him if that’s possible- and press a hand to his cheek.

‘Then why couldn’t you tell me? Do you not feel the same?’

Dean melts into it before answering.

‘I’ve never felt this way. I’ve never said it with the intention of a future together, I was scared.’

Dean’s never been one to admit that. He doesn’t talk about his feelings- he buries them, he doesn’t even trust himself with them. That’s when you know he means it.

‘I love you. I love you and I should’ve said it. I should’ve said it before you did because the moment I saw you, I knew. I’m so sorry, I didn’t imagine this happening but I froze.’ He admits to you- his hand on top of yours still on his cheek.

You look at him. Really- look at him. You can see how sad this makes him. How he knows how much he’s hurt you by just being scared. And you feel sorry for how harsh you were to him. You were hurt- but you should’ve understood. You should’ve been there.

‘We both suck at this, huh?’ You suck in a laugh, and Dean looks at you like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way- he wishes he could change it, but he can’t, and you’re still here. You still accept the flaws, the fears, the uncertainties, because you feel them too.

You’re not sure about anything.

The one thing you’re sure about, is that you love Dean- and he loves you, and that’s all you need right now.

[softjeekies]

Waiting After The Rain

↳ chapter 3

previous chapter // next chapter

Pairing: ot8!stray kids x pregnant omega!reader

Synopsis: An omega pregnant and alone after being kicked out by their alpha stumbles upon a pack willing to take them in and care for both the omega and their pup as if they were their own, because now they are.

Genre: strangers to lovers, angsty but lots of fluff to even it out.

Warnings: a/b/o, past abuse physical and verbal, past sexual abuse(mentions of past non-con), mentions of past violence, trauma, self esteem issues, pregnancy, aftermath of abuse, panic attacks, anxiety, pack dynamics, angst but it will be okay, polyamory

A/N: please enjoy this chapter everyone, like i said before my asks are open for any questions or to chat!!

Chan closes the door behind him once he enters your room, where you and Felix sit together on the bed. He doesn’t make any moves to sit on the bed, making sure he keeps his distance. You can smell the fear in him; he’s terrified that one wrong move will ruin everything.

“Feeling better baby?” The alpha gives you a warm smile.

“My baby is fine.” You speak unsure of your words, confused why Chan would ask that. Why does he care?

“Oh, I’m happy to hear that but when I said baby, I kinda meant you.” He raises a hand to scratch his neck, his ears turning bright red, Was he wearing fake pheromones? How was this an alpha? Nonetheless, unconsciously you blush like a teenage girl with a dumb crush. You can’t help but scold yourself for the behavior, you don’t know these people get it together. You’re left even more confused, You could chalk Chan caring about the pup up to his instincts but you? Why you?

“Ah, I’m okay.” Short and to the point, that’s all he needs to hear, nothing more and nothing less.

“That’s good, really good. Seeing you get sick like that made us kinda anxious so I called the omega specialist Felix and Han went to and I was able to get you an appointment for tomorrow morning! Felix can’t drive so I’ll be driving you if that’s okay, I can also go in with you, the alphas usually do the same for the other omegas’ appointments, which eases us a lot. But please if you don’t want me to go in with you say it, I won’t be mad, I just want to make sure you two are healthy, I don’t want to get in the way of that-“ The omega sat next to you swiftly cuts off the alpha.

“Babe you’re rambling.”

“Right. Sorry! So what do you say?” Chan looks at you sweetly, but as you look deeper into his eyes you can see his plea, he would never say it out loud, not wanting to sway your decision. You can’t bring yourself to defy an alpha’s wants, all you can do is hope you don’t regret it.

“You can come with me to the appointment.” Before you can even blink the bed in front of you dips and there are big arms wrapped around your shoulders. You flinch, well a sad attempt at a flinch, the arms keeping you stilled. A weak growl that could only come from an omega omits from next to you and the arms immediately disappear allowing you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Chan hyung, what the hell was that?” Felix speaks sternly, and yeah you’d only know him for less than a day but you’d never imagine him speaking in such a manner, especially not to his alpha.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry I don’t know what came over me. I just got so happy that you want to let me be with you during such an important moment for you and your baby, that you’ll allow me to keep you both safe.” The alpha moves to kneel on the floor next to the bed laying his head on the edge of the bed, excited eyes looking up at you. His arm lies flat against the bed dangerously close to your leg, but you don’t move, no matter how much the hand calls to you. Your omega purrs loudly.

Alpha. Alpha protects us. Alpha loves our pup.

Your breath hitches at the thought and you pray nobody hears. This is the worst part of being an omega, these instincts that are simply just that, instincts, there’s no logic or thought behind them, just your biological need for an alpha to take care of you. Your instincts are what got you into this situation in the first place, you know better than anyone that your omega isn’t always right.

“When you came down for breakfast today it got so silent because we all felt this pull towards you. The three of us felt it last night, but it hit the others this morning when they got to see and smell you for the first time. I really think, fuck, I think you are meant to be here. And if you let us show you how true that is, we will go at whatever pace is comfortable for you, this is a promise from my pack to you. You are still free to leave, but I’d really prefer it if you didn’t.”

The silence is heavy and almost suffocating. His words were simple but they pulled on your heart in a way you’d never felt before. Your omega began to purr so loudly in your mind, it felt like your brain was vibrating. This was going to be a real problem. You were split, a part of you that you wanted to chalk up to instincts that felt the same pull to this pack, and the other part of you, beaten broken and bruised that wanted to run, so terrified that this was all a sham and they too would hurt you just the same as everyone before them had.

“I don’t know you people. Every single person I was supposed to trust ended up hurting me, Why would I trust strangers I just met?” The two pack members frown at your answer, they were determined to help you no matter what that looked like. This was just a bump in a larger road, and god was there a long road ahead.

“We get it. I wish we could take away all the pain you’ve ever felt, believe me. We will never push your boundaries or scare you okay. Having you here, it feels like we found something that was missing, it’s second nature to take care of you, like this is what we were meant to do. I know wolves are known for rushing into things because we can sense when someone is for us but we’ll hold back for you, like I said, we go at your pace.” The pack alpha continues to look up at you, never breaking eye contact, but it’s not a suffocating alpha eye contact, it’s almost submissive.

“I can’t lie and say I don’t feel something, but I’m scared. I’m really scared. Chan, I’m broken. The people who have been in my life have done a lot of damage and I can already tell there are a lot of things I’m going to have to unlearn and change. I don’t believe any of this is real, You guys treating me as kindly as you have is so foreign to me and it probably will be for a while. In the past less than 24 hours I have felt more love than I have ever felt in my life and I never want it to end but I have to keep my guard up, because I may deserve to be hurt but my baby does not, I have to protect them. If this is real and you guys can be patient with me, I’d be willing to try being a part of your pack.” You squeeze your eyes shut trying to hold back tears, keeping your head down terrified of what’s to come out of Chan’s mouth next.

“All eight of us will do everything in our power to get you to want to be here with us. You do not deserve any of the pain you’ve been caused and we will turn the earth upside down trying to prove that to you. That’s a promise.” You give a tearful smile and Chan doesn’t hesitate to give you one back. You look to your side to see a teary-eyed Felix.

“Y/N, he’s right, we’ll do anything for you.” He speaks, taking your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“So, I have to head out to the studio soon and the other guys also have work but Seungmin will be staying back here with you and the other omegas okay? Felix will probably want to show you around the house and help get you settled in, hopefully you’ll find time to get to know Han and Seungmin, I already told Seungmin to be on his best behavior and he really is a sweetheart but if he bothers you, you have my full permission to put him in his place.” Chan moves over to the other side of the bed to place a kiss on Felix’s head and you couldn’t have known but he fights the urge to give you one as well, instead, he leaves with a gentle smile shot your way.

You lie down on the bed with a sigh, unsure of how to proceed, your mind is running a million miles a minute. Felix places and gentle hand on the curve of your shoulder and once again you don’t flinch at his touch. You can’t wrap your head around how easily he’s wormed his way into your space, Something about Felix is special, like everything is okay as long as he’s there. You lay there like that for a while, going over every possible outcome in your head before Felix interrupts you.

“If my nose doesn’t betray me it seems as though the alphas are gone for the day, we'll have free rein to explore the house and I’ll be sure to show you all the best spots!”

Felix gives you a big smile as he watches you get up off the bed gesturing for him to show you the way.

The house is huge. Each pack member has their own room, then there are guest rooms, and there’s an office that Felix lets you know that it’s mainly Chan’s office but the whole pack will use it here and there. There’s a massive fenced backyard that is surrounded by trees leading into the forest. You take note of the pool, you’ve never had a pool and have never learned how to swim, would the pack be annoyed by that? You shake your head at the thought and look at the deck, it’s pretty, littered with different flowers and plants, and tons of places to relax or eat. And all that doesn’t even include the large basement that has been turned into the pack den. Felix takes you down into the den and your mouth waters involuntarily. It’s perfect, the biggest nest you’ve ever seen lies on the floor, there’s a TV and a mini fridge. There’s lots of storage space, which you assume holds anything you could ever need for heats and ruts, and then even more stuff.

“You are free to come down here whenever you’d like, I’ll speak for Han here when I say we’d love your scent in our pack nest. A blush spreads across your face and in embarrassment, you face towards the door letting Felix know it’s time to move on.

The last place Felix takes you is in the large living room, where Han is sitting on the couch with his legs crossed under him watching something animated.

“And that’s the end of the tour! Is it okay if I leave you here to relax with Han while I make us some lunch?” You nod at Felix and as he leaves you take a seat on the couch leaving one cushion's worth of space between you and Han, not wanting to disturb him. You decide to watch along with him to pass the time before your skin begins to crawl with the feeling of a pair of eyes on you. You turn to see Han’s round brown eyes on you, and he jumps a little once you look at him.

“I’m sorry! It’s just, you’re, god you’re glowing! I know that’s cliché but it’s true! Can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer.” He asks nervously and you take a deep breath before nodding.

“What’s it like? You know, being pregnant?” Han gives you a nervous yet curious look, his full attention on you and you can’t help but find it endearing. Your mouth falls open thinking of a response.

“I’m not that pregnant yet but it’s nice so far. It’s kinda like having a friend with you everywhere you go. I’m a little more tired all the time and I don’t like morning sickness though.” He lets out a soft laugh.

“I can’t wait to have my own pups one day, but for now I’d love to help you take care of yours.”

“I think, I think I’d really like that.” You speak softly, as if you said it too loud the wrong person would hear. But Han doesn’t judge, he doesn’t scoff or make a sly comment, no he gives you a warm smile. An unfamiliar feeling settles in your chest, not quite sure what it is but it feels good.

“Minho saved me too.” Han blurts out, and by the way his scent sours, you can tell he didn’t mean to. Your eyes go wide at the implication.

“What?”

“I come from a long line of alpha men, I think my parents knew I’d be an omega before I presented. I got called pretty boy and some meaner names growing up. Yet they were still so disappointed in me for presenting as an omega, they put me on intense blockers and rarely let me leave the house. Almost a year after I turned eighteen I made my escape, that’s where I found Minho. I showed up at his dance studio asking for a job, desk work, assistant, anything. I didn’t know this at the time but Minho doesn’t like omegas working for him, he doesn’t think omegas should have to work at all but he especially doesn’t want them to feel like he is above them as their boss, but he felt that pull, the same way we feel with you. He put together some bogus application for me to fill out and once he saw that I left the address line blank he didn’t ask or push he just offered me a bed at his apartment, no questions asked. He ended up basically paying me to sit at the front desk of the studio every day and look pretty. Months later, we met Chan and his pack and the rest is history.” Han smiled fondly at the memory. Your mouth was ajar, unsure how to respond to such a deep confession, Han trusted you with his story, and that meant more than he could ever know.

“Thank you for telling me that, I’m sorry you grew up like that.”

“Chan told us what you told him about your story. I hope you don’t mind, it’s good for us to know. I’m sorry that happened to you, but you’re safe now. Not all alphas are bad, especially not these big puppies in our pack.” Han giggles turning to face you, you both let out a contented sigh before Felix shouts that lunch is ready.

You’re sitting in the same seat you sat in during breakfast, Felix taking his spot next to you with Han and Seungmin across from you. You happily eat the food as the guys try their best to include you in their conversations. After the food is long gone and the other two have wandered off Felix leaves you in the kitchen for just a moment to use the bathroom. With nothing to distract your mind, it wanders as well. An internal fight between your logical human mind and your omega, unable to agree on what’s best for you in this situation. It’s all too much, you feel suffocated. So you find air, taking a step onto the deck outside, and taking a seat on the steps trying to catch your breath. The sound of the sliding glass door opening and closing rips you from your thoughts, and the smell of fresh laundry pierces your nose.

“Chan doesn’t like it when the omegas go outside alone.” It’s Seungmin.

“I’m fine.” Your voice is shaky, and you don’t even know why you tried to lie.

“I know you are. But Chan would kill me if anything happened to you or your pup so I will stay over here by the door until you’re ready.” You let out a shaken sigh, Great now he had to babysit you out here because you couldn’t even hold yourself together.

“I don’t mind, I like it outside.” It’s like he could hear your thoughts.

“You don’t have to lie, I know this sucks. I know I’m being annoying, I know I should leave and never look back so you guys can live your lives as normal.” Fat tears fall down your plush cheeks, you don’t dare look at Seungmin, nobody needs to see you like this, especially not a stranger.

“If we didn’t want you here you wouldn’t be here. As a pack, we are very territorial and we tend to stay with our pack except for necessities like work stuff. Us wanting you to be a part of our pack is a big deal.” He’s blunt, but maybe that’s what you need right now.

“And what if I don’t want to?” Your mouth moves faster than your brain, and your omega scolds you for your words.

“So leave. You’re free to go. But you won’t, because I know you feel the pull too.” Who the hell does he think he is? You could leave right now, it wouldn’t matter, none of this matters. And yet, you don’t move to leave the yard, you don’t run away. Instead, you get up and move past Seungmin into the house. Running head on into what you were so scared of.

[dark-moonlust]

A 2 male tiger and f!reader threesom. Anytime if you want. I can wait.

Den of Surrender PART 1

Pairing: 2 (were)tigers x female reader Summary: You find shelter in a cave and become the center of attention for two male tiger monsters. Warnings: nsfw, fated mates, 2 on 1, heavy oral, fingering and retracting claws, blissful orgasms, they worship reader, lots of 💦.

Anon thanks for your request. I hope you like this! If you want a part 2 please let me know!

To all my friends here, I know I am very behind on requests. I’m so sorry! My inbox is full of delicious ideas, but the past months have been hazy and difficult. I have work, family issues, and Patreon taking up my time, but I promise I will catch up and post more requests. My progress might be slow but stay with me. 🥺🩷 Love and hugs to all my moonlust friends. Enjoy the oneshot! The attention is heavy and delicious on the reader. Filled with attention, steamy oral and orgasms.

The cave was warm, the air thick with the scent of heat and deep musk. You felt strange being there. You’d trekked for so long and that was the only sanctuary you’d found. The rain was feral outside. You had no choice but to venture deeper and hope for the best. Firelight from the wall torches flickered across the stone, casting shifting shadows until two huge figures lurked in the dark.

You backed up a step, breath caught in your throat.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going, little mate?” one of them drawled.

And then you saw them. They resembled nothing human. Tall and big. Walking slowly and predatorily.

“Wh— who are you?”

The other figure chuckled. “The correct question is ‘what are we?’. I’m Raikhar.”

You gulped as he left the shadows and appeared. He was tall, broad, his stripes deep and jagged. Eyes like twin amber suns stared at you. He stood on two legs like a human, but you knew he was anything but.He was lethal. Tiger. A weretiger. His fur was thick, rougher around the neck like a mane, claws extending from his paws.

Then the other form approached, and you gasped.

“I am Vael, little one,” he said, his voice throaty as he revealed himself. He was just as big, all sinewy muscle wrapped in black-and-orange fur and those emerald green eyes? They spoke of want and hunger. His tail flicked menacingly, pearly fangs protruding from his mouth.

The two of them closed in on you, but you had nowhere to go. No place to escape. But your heart wasn’t afraid. Then Raikhar was there, erasing your thoughts. He crouched low, golden eyes fixed on you while Vael circled behind, their bodies of muscle and heat surrounding you.

A shiver ran through you when Vael purred over your ear, and damn, his breath was hot and smelled like spice and smoke, making your nether regions quiver. His claws trailed lightly along your sides, thankfully not enough to cut your clothes or harm you.

“You came here for a reason. You were fated to find us. And you are already aroused.”

You shook your head strongly. “No. I’m not—”

Words failed you when Raikhar curled in, his chest to your chest, his massive paw cupping your jaw, tender and careful despite the claws. “Don’t fear. Don’t run. You were made for us.”

“We can’t fit,” you mumbled, even if your whole body was electrified by them. What was this insane attraction? You wanted them but it was not possible. You and them. Preposterous. Mad. Impossible. Right?

“Yes, we can. And we will prove it.”

And then they were on you.

Raikhar’s tongue slipped out, parting your half-οpen lips and claiming your mouth. You gasped. It was wet, hοt, commanding and claiming. Vael pressed in from behind, his chest to your back, his teeth grazing your neck. Their bodies caged you in, heat and fur, raw male power overwhelming until your knees buckled.

Paws—god, their rough paws gripped under your knees, lifting you like you weighed nothing and settling you between them. Suspended in the air, with only their bodies keeping you steady. Somehow, you felt no fear… just security and yearning.

Your attention shifted when Raikhar’s claws tοre your shirt and bra, slicing them open, his wet tοngue licking one pert nipple. You whimpered when his huge hands cupped your tits, feeling them up as his tοngue tasted your other nipple. He gave bοth mοunds his full attention, lubricating them with his saliva. It looked so hοt.

Vael was busy too. He slipped dοwn your pants and thοng in one move, οpening your legs wide and pοsitioning you to sit wide open for them. His fingers dipped between your fοlds, and with a surprised whine you noticed that he had retracted his claws and was playing with your pυssy. Blunt paws that were calloused but tender, flicking with no shame. Rubbing your fοlds and toying with your clit, wet squelches echoing in your ears.

“Feel her, Raikhar,” Vael grunted. “Our mate is so soft and wet for us.”

Your head fell back on Vael’s shoulder as his hand palmed your breast, rough and firm, while the other spread your fοlds wider for Raikhar.

“So fucking wet for your mates already,” Raikhar growled, his clawless fingers working your cυnt, slick dripping down your thighs as your hips jerked in their grip. “You feel that, little one? That needy little pυssy is begging to be lοved. Played with. Suckled and kissed.”

Vael purred his agreement. “Feels good, hm? Being worshiped by your mates? But that’s just the beginning. Do you want more, mate?”

You licked your lips, your pυssy on fire. “Feels so damn good. Hmm… more. Yes. Please.”

You cried out when Raikhar slipped a thick finger inside, stretching your walls and curling it just right, his hairy paw grinding against your clit. The friction was perfect and so damn loud. Squelch, squelch, it echoed, your legs trembling as he forced you to feel everything. Your walls clenched, fluttering wildly, and your breath came in ragged gasps, chest heaving.

“You feel that, little one?” Vael snarled from behind, grinding what you guessed was a very hot and huge shaft against your butt crack. “Your body knows. Your cunt knows.”

They kept your legs curled and open, stars dancing behind your eyes when Vael added his finger inside you, both monster digits driving inside you, faster, harder, wet sounds and growls driving you over the edge. You came hard and sobbed when they pushed you on your stomach on the stone floor, taking turns licking up your juices. They held your asscheeks οpen, all of you expοsed as their tοngues dipped down, lapping up your arοusal like it was nectar they’d been starved for.

You screamed. Pushed. Tried to get away.

But they kept you there. Head down, ass up as they devοured you, slurping messily, panting hotly against your fοlds. You writhed, trapped, helpless, every nerve begging and aching. You οrgasmed two more times while they whispered filth into the air, praising and feasting on you.

Screams of bliss echοed through the cave as pleasure surged thrοugh you like a gοddamn tidal wave, pυssy clenching around nothing, belly quivering, body boneless and yet, they didn’t fυcking stop. Vael licked you through your climax, savοring your taste with deep, wet slurps, while Raikhar kissed the slick trickling down your thighs.

“Please…” you panted, tears of ecstasy brimming in your eyes.

“Again,” Vael whispered against your pussy lips.

“We’re not done, little mate,” Railhar assured you. “We’re just beginning.”

——————————

Did you enjoy? Reblog your reaction! Think those sexy tigers are starving for more? Maybe they’ll give reader more pleasure and claim her once and for all? Would you like a part 2?

[readwritealldayallnight]

A Stranger is a Friend You Haven’t Met Yet… (Part 2)

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 5.5k words

(18+ mdni) warnings/tags: kinda barely enemies to lovers, tension, grinding, dry humping, finishing with clothes on, Ghost does not do feelings™️, mask stays on (for now)

Part 1 Part 3

‘Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst’.

That was something something you told yourself often, working as a woman in close contact with the military. Especially so when starting new assignments for the first time, landing on a new base, meeting new faces. More often than not the grand majority of those faces were men. Large, intimidating, burly men. Some of whom sometimes held certain feelings about a woman being brought in to work alongside them.

The first time you’d met Captain Price on yet another new base for yet another new assignment, shaking hands with the tall man, you’d once again repeated the familiar phrase to yourself. If only you could have known there was no real way to prepare for meeting the 141.

He walked you through numerous zig zagging hallway and corridors that made up the heart of the base, leading you towards the briefing room where you’d be meeting the rest of the task force your employer turned friend Laswell had assigned you to assist. Your work as a highly skilled translator meant that your unique credentials made you a vital asset to anyone you worked for. You were only a year out of finishing your degree when Laswell had scooped you up, seeing the potential in you.

As your mind shifted to her, you halted your steps, cursing yourself silently. You’d promised Laswell you would text her and let her know when you’d made it to your hotel safe last night. After the chaos of being left out in the dark, pouring rain at the wrong address following a 10 hour flight where they put your luggage on the wrong flight, being unable to find reception walking along a sketchy, desolate road in search of a way of calling a cab, being rescued by a large, mysterious, enticing stranger on a motorcycle, you’d forgotten to text Laswell before you crashed on the hotel bed that night.

It had equally slipped your mind the next morning when you woke up in a panic, only a few hours later due to the early start time of the briefing, shoving your still wet clothes into the questionable hotel dryer, hoping it would be good enough in time for your mad dash to the base. All this to say, the last 24 hours had left you frazzled, and you’d completely forgotten to get back to her.

“I’m so sorry Captain, I-”

“You’re welcome to call me Price, if you’d like. You’ll find we’re not always so formal ‘round here.” The older man replied, also pausing his foot steps so as to not leave you behind, offering a kind smile that crinkled the corner of his eyes.

“Price,” you corrected, offering him back the best smile you could muster up at that moment. “You’ll have to forgive me, I just need 60 seconds to contact Laswell, that’s all. I was supposed to-”

“Say no more.” He interrupts, holding his hands up as if in a display of mock surrender, taking one small step back towards the door to the briefing room. “If it’s Laswell, I don’t want to held responsible for upsettin’ her. Used up enough favours with her already to finally have her send you over our way.”

You offer him a genuine chuckle at that last comment, knowing that Kate is in fact more often than not bombarded with requests for your skills, and that the head of the 141 was one of those little birdies often chirping in her ear.

“I’ll give you a few minutes. Come in when you’re ready.” He kindly offers you before excusing himself into the briefing room. You take a steadying breath, pulling out your phone and quickly typing out a message to your friend, not wanting to cause a worse first impression than you might already be currently doing. The soft whoosh sound of your text being sent has barely touched your ears before you’re hiding your phone away, ready to get this show on the road.

Your hand is reaching out to twist the door handle, catching the tail end of Price’s deep voice telling someone that he’s “been tryin’ to get ahold of her for a long feckin’ time now.” before an excited Scottish accent adds “So it is a lass??”

‘Hope for the best, prepare for the worst’ you thought one last time before opening the door and walking in to meet the 141.

“Last time I checked, yes, I’m still a ‘lass’.”

To your utter surprise, the transition into working alongside the 141 had been the easiest, dare you even say, the most fun, you’ve had in a long, long time. Price is a kind and fair leader, always looking out for his teammates. You, Soap and Gaz have gotten along with ease from the get go, the Sergeants taking an immediate liking to you.

“Is it really 11?” Gaz had asked you during that very first briefing between the five of you, a playful smiling stretching across his young, handsome face. Soap was gazing at you beside him with equal, genuine curiosity across his features.

“Yes, it’s 11.” You confirmed for them, used to the question at this point. It was a fair question, and you knew that. It wasn’t every day that they met someone who was perfectly fluent in six languages, fairly fluent in 3, and knew enough to effectively translate in another 2 languages. Sometimes, if you stayed on with a team for long enough, you forgot how ‘odd’ your work was, seeing people’s reactions for the first time, raving about how they wish they had your ‘gift’.

In actuality, your knowledge felt like the furthest thing from a gift, some days. Your skills were the result of hard work, blood, sweat and tears. You’d been raised in a household where 3 languages were spoken on a daily basis, and so though you did have that advantage early on in life, when you chose your path after high school graduation and decided to learn more than the 3 you already knew, you’d dedicated more effort to your pursuits than you ever had before.

Discovering your love for learning languages, your nose was never not in a book. This is how one of your first every contracts gifted you with the nickname that stuck with you to this day. Though you weren’t technically military, only working with them, the call sign was deemed too perfect not to be yours. This was something Soap was very curious about upon meeting you, and wasn’t shy to hide it.

“And the wee call sign? How’d a sweet lass like you end up being called that?” He questioned, earning a sideways glance from his superior, who was beginning to open his mouth to probably scold him before you laughed and reassured him it was fine.

“I was just starting to study Russian when I’d landed on what would be my longest job at the time. And Russian is really hard to learn, let me tell you. 33 letters in their alphabet, I was working more so had less time to study, anyways I was just reading a lot, always had my nose in a book.” You explained to the men, a familiar story you’d recounted countless times now. “Eventually that got me the nickname bookworm, which over time got shortened to, what it is now… worm.”

“Ach, nowhere near as fun as I’d been hopin’.” The Scot huffs out as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Thought maybe you’da been forced to eat a worm at some point or-”

“Sergeant MacTavish!”

That first meeting had been a few weeks ago now, and you were pleasantly surprised at how well things were going. Well, almost everything. Because as kind as Price was, and as friendly as Soap was, and as inviting as Gaz was, those men only made up 3/4 of the task force. There was one other member of the 141, and the issue wasn’t that he’d been missing from that initial briefing, it was that he hadn’t said one goddamn word to you.

The entire time, the massive, intimidating, beast of a man sat in the corner of the room, eyes hidden by the shadows that the skull plated mask he wore cast over where his eyes should be, almost giving off the impression as if the figure behind were not alive. Price had introduced him as simply, Ghost, the Lieutenant. And that’s exactly what he was, a ghost hovering in the space, listening in on the stories that those alive and well were sharing around the table, never saying a word, never making a sound, never even moving.

It wasn’t until the briefing finally ended, Price explaining that he would show you towards the room that would now be yours for the indeterminate future, that you finally saw any sign of life from him, as he took no hesitation in standing to his feet and swiftly leaving the room, all without a word or look of acknowledgement in your direction.

“Don’t you be worryin’ yourself over him, wormie.” Soap had insisted one evening as he helped you spar in the gym. You were by no means a soldier, and were not expected to fight. However more and more often you work was requiring you to be on at the heart of the chaos, translating for your team on the spot in tense, increasingly dangerous situations. It was vital, no, necessary, to Price that they go over what sort of self defence you knew so that they could judge for themselves what was adequate and what needed improving before he deemed you fit to be defending yourself from more than your colleagues.

“It isn’t just you, he act this way with anyone new.” Gaz added as well from where he was stood on the edge of the mats, observing your progress (or the lack thereof rather). “Takes him time to warm up, ya see. He just doesn’t know ya yet.”

“He’s still warmin’ up to me, even now! If you’ll believe me, bonnie!” Soap had joked, wanting to squash your concerns.

The days dragged on however, and the Lieutenant’s behaviour became increasingly odd. He still would not speak to you, and so you never tried initiating contact, reading his message loud and clear. But there were times where you’d be holding multiple folders, if not boxes, of files and information on the way to a briefing, and you would run across none other than Ghost.

Rather than continuing to ignore your presence and continuing his way to the briefing room, he’d wordlessly pluck the items from your hands, carrying them in your place, pace quickening as if to leave you behind. Another time, you were practicing strapping on gear that you’d apparently be expected to wear at times depending on the climate and the situation, intent on heading straight to the gym afterwards to practice sparring, as per his idea to have you practice in actual equipment.

You knew Ghost was somewhere in the room as well, polishing some weapon or another, but you were focused on your task. That’s part of why you were so caught off guard when you stood up, thinking you’d finished gearing up correctly, and found your path to the door blocked suddenly by the Lieutenant’s immense frame taking up your line of sight.

You’d gasped in surprise at his unexpected closeness, finding your mouth gone dry when his large gloved hands reached out to your front, adjusting the straps of your tactical vest without a word. As quickly as he had appeared before you, he’d completed his task and disappeared, leaving you spinning from the interaction.

The next time, you were in the mess hall, standing awkwardly as you tried to leave a conversation but didn’t know how to do so politely. The young Sergeant had suddenly introduced himself to you as you were walking out, and the man had yet to take a single breath to allow you to speak and excuse yourself. Something apparently caught in his throat however, when he quickly clammed up, eyes going wide, gaze trained over your shoulder, before he suddenly had to be somewhere and dashed out of sight.

When you’d turned around, you’d barely caught enough of a glimpse, but you were certain it was Ghost you saw turning the corner, confusing you even further. You couldn’t make any sense of his behaviour, unsure of what to make of the situation. Things came to a head however, when Price decided it was time for the Lieutenant to begin handling your training.

Ghost casts a quick glance around the gym as he walks in, finding that he’s the first to arrive this morning, something he’s thankful for. He’s still not sure how he’s going to go about this. When Price had approached him, saying that he believed the sergeants were going too easy on you in your training and that he wanted him to take over, he knew he was not in any position to refuse.

After all, how was he meant to explain to his captain that he’d rather not be left alone with you. Not when he’d been trying to avoid you at every cost, realizing that out of the dark and the rain, wearing his usual Ghost mask that had been absent from his face the night he met you on his motorcycle, you hadn’t recognized him. And why would you? The only identifying feature you might remember from that night, was his voice, and he’d been making every effort to avoid speaking you thus far.

At first, he wasn’t sure why he was going to such lengths to avoid you, a complete 180 to the way he’d gone out of his way to help you previously. Deep down though, he knew why.

You’d called him a good man.

He’d gone back to base and touched himself, relieved himself, came all over his first like a damn teenager, all to the thought of you, the thought of your sweet voice calling him just that, a good man.

But you had only called him that because you didn’t know him, not really. Your idea of that hero riding in on a steel steed, saving you when you needed it, was not something he wanted to taint, to ruin, with the revelation that that man was actually him, the farthest thing from good there could ever be.

Realistically, he knew he couldn’t avoid you forever, not when you’d apparently be working together. God, what a shock that had been to see you stepping into the briefing room. His intention wasn’t to ignore you completely, at least not indefinitely. He only wanted to buy himself some time, give himself a chance to think of what he might say should you somehow recognize him. But then every time you were in his line of sight, the only thing he could think of was his exit strategy, how to get as far from you as possible.

And yet, even as the days turned into weeks, Simon’s avoidance of you couldn’t hide the growing affection that beginning to take form in the recesses of his heart. Any time he was within hearing range, his ears were tuned in to every word that left your mouth. When your back was turned to him, his eyes were following your every move. Even his own body was beginning to fight against his mind at times, taking initiative before he could realize that he was adjusting the straps to your tactical vest, the thought of you being in a high risk situation without being properly secured leaving a foul taste in his mouth, finding his hands relieving you of the load of whatever paperwork you were bringing to the briefing that day.

Or worse, he finds himself intimidating any man whose eyes land on your figure for a fraction of a second too long for his liking, or who has the balls to actually speak to you. Acting as though he had any right to act as your protector, to involve himself in your life like this without having ever even had the courtesy to speak to you. He really was going about this all wrong, wasn’t he?

Any further self destructive ideas Ghost might had come up with are instead cut short when he hears the hinges of the gym door squeaking open once more. His head swivels in the direction of the noise, eyes landing on none other than you. He’s seen you in your sparring sessions with the sergeants, seen you walk in full of energy, enthusiastic about proving your abilities and learning how to improve them. This morning however, you appear almost timid, trying to make yourself appear smaller as the loud thud of the door slamming shut behind you resonates out, only further emphasizing how alone you and Ghost are now.

He knows he has to be the one making you feel this way, and you aren’t without good reason. Clearing his throat, Ghost acknowledges he’s stalled as long as he can, if you’re going to recognize him, it’s just going to happen.

“Alright?” His deep, gravelly voice rings out in the space. You nearly jump in surprise but manage to school your expression. You wonder if his voice always sounds so rough, or if its a by product of the early morning hour. Whereas Soap and Gaz, ever the gentleman, had asked you what time you’d prefer to train, leading to late night sparring sessions, Price had informed you that Ghost would be meeting you in the gym before the sun had even come up. Damn military men and their early wake up times.

“I’m alright, yeah. How uh- how are you? Sir.” You reply, slowly stepping towards the training mats where Ghost is stood, muscular arms crossed over his huge chest. You tack on the ‘sir’ at the end, not wanting to get on his bad side before you even have a chance to begin training.

“Ghost will do.” He corrects you, ignoring your question otherwise. Ghost finds himself feeling antsy, almost out of his element, he doesn’t like that you’re messing with his head so much already. He’d rather get this over with. The less chit chat (and the less odds of you recognizing him by his voice), the better. “You ready?”

“Yes, I stretched before coming so, should be ready.” You answer him, finally stepping near enough that you’re within reaching distance of one another. Fuck, he’s suddenly extremely thankful you chose to do that before coming here, he’s not sure how he would’ve managed watching you bend over every which way to stretch.

“Right. Let’s see what the sergeants have taught you then.”

All in all, you’re actually not as bad as he might have expected, for someone who wasn’t a soldier. Obviously, he was going easier on you than he would’ve if it were Garrick or MacTavish he were sparring with, but he wasn’t completely letting you win either. You were fast on your feet, slippery in his grasps (maybe that’s why they should’ve named you worm), quick to think and to dodge his movements. He finds himself actually surprisingly quite pleased with you.

What he isn’t enjoying as much, or rather is probably enjoying too much and that’s the issue, are the fucking noises you keep making. Your small grunts of exertion, your puffs of breath drenched in effort, the groans you let out every time he lands a soft blow on you, not nearly as hard as he’d hit an enemy, but with enough force you knock the wind out of you each time. He’s also noticing the way the sweat drips down your neck, across your collarbone, sneaking into the heaving valley between your breasts.

There’s stirring happening in Ghost’s sweatpants and suddenly he needs this session to be over with sooner rather than later. He’s about to call it good enough for today when you open your pretty little mouth and say:

“Why are going easy me?” You’re panting, cheeks reddened with the blood pumping through you and his continues to gather somewhere it really shouldn’t be right now.

“What?” He grunts out, turning his back to you. He reaches a hand behind his neck with a towel, wiping at whatever sweaty skin his balaclava exposes.

“Look I’m not trying to pick a fight with you-” He’s cursing himself silently already at your words. “But not even Garrick or MacTavish treat me like I’m that weak. And they don’t have any issues with me being here.”

“Don’t have any issues with you.” He attempts to reply coolly, still not facing you, though he’s finding himself standing up straighter.

“With all due respect, that’s pure shit.” You retort. At this, he swings around to look at you, eyes narrowing. So she’s got some bite to her. “You’ve had an issue since I arrived, and that’s fine. I don’t need you to like me. But if you’re the one who’s apparently going to be training me now, I’d appreciate if you didn’t treat me like a kid. I’m here to do my job, and do it right. Can I expect the same from you, Lieutenant?”

If you were anyone else, he’d have you running laps around the entire base by now for talking back to him like this. Except you’re not anyone else, you’re you. And now you’re stepping closer to his space, this small thing daring to get into his face over him not training you hard enough? If harder is what you want, then harder is what you’ll get, little worm.

“You want me to go harder on you, s’that it?” He questions, taking the final step forward until your chests are now touching, and you’re having to crane your neck back to maintain eye contact. He’s close enough he sees you swallow at his question, but you don’t dare back down. Good girl. “Treat you like a big girl, s’that right?”

Suddenly struggling to find your voice, you manage what you hope is a confident nod. He’s never been so close to you before, and you’re noticing that the scent of him, even covered in sweat and likely morning breath behind his balaclava, is dizzying. Nearly intoxicating. He smells like a pure man, and you’re internally berating yourself to stay focused.

“Careful what ya wish for.” He says, barely allowing a second to pass before he’s suddenly throwing you onto the mat, flipping you onto your back, both of your hands pinned above your head in one of his large palms, his large, heavy body holding you in place underneath him, all in the blink of an eye. “What now, little worm? How are ya wrigglin’ your way out this?” He presses his mask covered mouth next to your ear, feeling a shiver go through your body at his words.

He’s careful to keep his now raging erection away from you, leaning his hips back but still pressing enough weight on you to keep you from budging. To your credit, you do try to get out from underneath him, but it’s a losing battle from the start, you’re no match for his size, especially with both hands above your head like this. Your cheeks are reddening in a mix of effort and embarrassment, and Ghost finds himself enjoying this view far too much.

“See, I was actually bein’ quite nice to ya,” He adds, barely tightening his grip on your hands, as if to remind you that he’s not even using his full strength with you. “But out there, wormie. They’re not gon’ be so kind-”

Whatever Ghost was going to say is cut off by a genuine, ragged gasp erupting from behind his mask. In your effort to free yourself, you’ve lifted your hips, unknowingly rubbing yourself against the bulge straining in the front of his sweatpants. Shocked by his reaction, you stay frozen in place, still pressed against what you can now tell is his throbbing member. And from what you can fell, it’s huge.

You’re momentarily caught off guard by his reaction to you. You weren’t exactly expecting… this. But his delicious, masculine odor is filling your nostrils, it feels as if every inch of you is pinned down by every inch of him, you can feel every twitch of his muscles and can practically count the steady beating of his heart through his cock pressing intro your thigh. And though you’ve always prided yourself on thinking first, acting second, you can’t exactly explain why you find yourself slowly beginning to rock your hips forward.

“This is you bein’ nice, Lieutenant?” You attempt to ask coyly, though you can’t hide the breathy way your voice comes across. Before you can pull your hips back anymore however, Ghost is suddenly releasing you from his grasp, standing to full height and dashing out of the room before you have a chance to even sit up.

Well, that went well.

The birds have only just begun to chirp when there’s a loud banging at your door early the next morning. You’re confused, prepared to tell whoever is on the other side of the door that it had better be a matter of life or death, when you come face to face with none other than a Ghost.

“What are-”

“If training starts at 0500, then you are to be in the gym at 0500. Understood?” His gravelly voice demands. A quick glance to your watch tells you it’s 3 minutes past 5 in the morning. You had been certain after yesterdays debacle that Ghost would never want to train with you again, assuming that he’d speak with Price about handing you back over to the sergeants somehow.

So why does the sight of this gigantic masked man standing in your doorway, so large he blocks most of the light coming in from the hall, someone who’s done nothing but piss you off so far, arriving in absolute insistence that you continue sparring together, have your thighs suddenly clenching together?

“I thought that-” You cut yourself off as you watch him tilt his head, almost as if daring you to finish that sentence. “Yes sir.”

“Get changed. You’ve got 60 seconds.” He informs you before reach to shut your door for you.

That’s how you find yourselves alone in the gym a short time later, training resuming. To his credit, Ghost does not go as easy on you this time as he did yesterday, genuinely challenging your abilities in self-defence and close quarters combat, teaching you moves that Soap and Gaz had apparently not considered necessary.

“If you’re ever in a situation where it’s your life on the line,” he had said between clenched teeth as he taught you to dodge his blows more effectively, as if the thought of you in actual danger enraged him enough to chip a tooth. “I want you doing anything necessary, to get out o’ there. Understood? You make it out.”

By the end of the session, Ghost himself is panting with exertion, the both of you having put in more energy than you would have, were you sparring with anyone else. You watch him, hands on his hips as he catches his breath, head tilted slightly to the ceiling, and you decide it’s as a good opportunity as any to try and catch him off guard, feeling confident in yourself.

Foolishly confident.

Before you even manage to land a finger on him, he’s flipping you into the very same position as you found yourselves in yesterday, you on your back with him above you, one of his hands pinning the both of yours above your head as his other is planted by your waist, warm breaths meeting in the middle.

“That, I never want to see you do again.”

“Was worth a try.”

“Was it?”

You slowly raise your hips, unsurprised when you make contact with his steel hard cock above you, teasingly rubbing yourself against his length.

“Maybe.” You whisper, eyes searching his glazed over expression. You find his pupils have darkened to the point they eclipse almost all colour, specks of black eye paint smudged around his eyes have caught onto his eyelashes. He’s so close to you, you’re able to make them out as blond. Something about being near enough to the mysterious, alluring Ghost to know that he’s blond under that mask causes the blush on your cheeks to darken further.

As caught up as you are in the obvious want you find behind his eyes, there’s something about them that almost, somehow seem familiar. As if you’ve looked into these eyes before, in a different place, a different context, a different time.

Any rational thoughts are cut off however, when you both hear and feel Ghost growl, the hand that was planted at your side now coming to sneak between your back and the floor, pulling your front somehow even closer to his muscular chest. There isn’t an inch of space between the two of you now, your heads falling beside each other, temple to temple, as his grip on the situation finally slips, his resolves breaks, and he begins to grind against you.

You let out a gasp, the feeling of his pulsing member rubbing against your centre, even with all the layers of clothing, is sinfully delicious. You suspect he’s feeling the same way, because his grip on your waist tightens, hips bucking already with more insistence. His grunts are music to your ears, as are the small moans and whimpers you let out into his neck. You’ve wrapped one leg behind him, widening your hips as far as they’ll allow, granting him as much access to your core as his large frame needs. Having released your hands to allow himself to explore the soft squeeze of your breasts through your workout shirt, your fingers in turn are roaming up and down his back, across his shoulders, fingers nails scratching at the fabric of his shirt.

Ghost knows he’s not going to last long. When he’d gone to get you this morning for your sparring session, he was determined not to let yesterday’s events get in the way of his professionalism. You were right, after all. You both had a job to do, and he would ensure you could do it right. He would sleep better at night anyways, knowing you were properly trained in how to defend yourself. Trained by him, and his hands. He hadn’t intended for the session to end the way yesterday’s had, with you laying beneath his raging erection on the sweaty training mats, though he wouldn’t lie and say he hadn’t hoped for it in some small part.

He knows he’s not going to last long because he’s finally, somehow, got you here underneath him, and your small sounds of pleasure are better than anything his twisted imagination could have ever conjured up. He shouldn’t take it any farther than this. This is already going too far, humping you into the ground of the gym fully clothed like a pair of teenagers who can’t keep their hands to themselves. But that’s exactly what you make him feel like though, isn’t it?

No, he won’t go farther than this, won’t allow himself to take more than this. This alone is more than he feels he deserves. God, how he wishes he could give you what you deserve though. Releasing your breasts from his continued groping, he snakes his hands down your stomach, meeting the hem of your pants, allowing his digits to slip beneath the band of your underwear, fingers instantly finding your pulsating clit between your soaked folds. Your moans only grow louder as he begins to quickly bring you closer to your peak, one of your hands coming to cover your mouth should anyone happen to be walking by.

It feels as if the two of you are caught in a raging storm, two inevitable waves colliding with one another in a fury likened only to mother nature’s doing. You’re both reaching your peaks together, tumbling over the edge into pure, mind numbing bliss, as you continue to hold onto one another, as though you’re life preservers in the sea, seeing each other through to the end of the end of the fall.

Ghost can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed at the fact that he’s cum in his pants. Not when he’s searing your blissed out expression into his mind forever. You’re both panting now, coming back to your senses, remembering your surroundings, as well as the fact that with the time that’s passed, it’s becoming increasingly likely for anyone to walk in.

Taking one last look at you, squeezing your side with what might just be affection, Ghost begrudgingly rolls himself off of you, coming to stand, readjusting the front of his now wet sweatpants. He turns himself around, extending a hand out to you, which you accept, allowing him to pull you up.

Only you don’t let go of his hand right away. Instead, you tighten your grip on his palm, pull him closer to you, narrowing your eyes at him, a cheeky smile spreading across your lips.

“So,” you say, licking your lips. “Same time tomorrow?”

Longest chapter ever and first time writing sort of smut! Feel like I’m earning my place on tumblr lol

Reader gets a call sign and a bit of a back story! Hope it wasn’t too long or boring to read, it’s literally only because I really wanted to justify naming reader as ‘worm’ because there is absolutely definitely without a question eventually going to be a chapter where worm is drunk and crying about how the boys are saying they wouldn’t love her if she turned into a worm thank you that is all

- M 🫶🏻