#10/10 love their soft fuzzy ears

[sometimesanequine]

[meganegatari]

Okay.. but like, loser ellie but she’s also a stoner and explains the entire lore of spider man to you while you’re trying to have seggs and she’s like stoned out of her mind and yapping about literally spider man 😭

before you read!!

☆: THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY IM CRYING LMFAO had me dying for like 10 mins straight. this is longer than intended bc im a yapper as we know, and i kinda don't know much of the spiderman lore (and you can def tell oops)…BUT I LOVE THE WAY YOUR MIND WORKS NONNIE.

◇: sfw but suggestive themes. warning: FAR from my best work, just wanted to keep momentum going ig. basically just fluff, lots of buildup as usual SORRY i have to establish a plot before we get to the good stuff…they're of age obviously, their relationship is left vague/up for interpretation so fill in the blanks w/ your own thoughts! “babe” pet name usage, consumption of weed, duh. ok i suppose that's all. OH AND SBWM REFERENCE HAHAHA (shameless self plug :3) + 1.0k wc.

One nice, regular night, chilling at Ellie’s humble abode, getting high, the usual Friday evening activities. You both were laying down in her bed, wrapped up in her dinosaur bedsheets of course, you were resting your head on her chest, occasionally coughing and swatting away the residual smoke that lingered in the air.

The weed had made your head fuzzy and your mouth drier than the Sahara desert, but despite all the not-so-great things, you loved to get high with Ellie.

Sometimes you'd fuck, sometimes you'd talk about life and reminisce about the good, the bad, and the ugly, and sometimes you'd just lay there to enjoy each other's company.

She was so warm and comfortable, you simply wished to merge bodies and become one with her, to make a home inside her ribcage even. You'd be perfectly fine just napping there on her cushiony chest, listening to her steady heartbeat and slow intakes of breath, if it wasn't for the familiar ache of need between your legs.

Shifting to look up at her, she was so incredibly zooted out of her mind, you found it hilarious. Chunky glasses covered in fingerprint smudges and sitting crooked atop her nose, eyes blood-red and so heavy lidded, you'd have thought she was asleep had you not taken a closer look.

You lifted yourself up and pressed your lips to the side of her pink cheek, repeatedly kissing her soft, smooth skin. She let out a husky giggle, her voice all hoarse and crackly from the substance. “Hiiii.”

She dragged out the vowel, grinning widely at you. Her smile was infectious, and you laughed at her state. Burying your face again in the crook of her neck, you mumbled, “Hi Ellie…you're so cute.”

Tangled up together, you kissed her some more on her neck, wanting to be as close as possible to her. She sighed, and angled her head to give you better access to more surface area. “That feels nice.” She'd slur, and you were pretty turned on at this point, to say the least.

It was worth asking. “Ellie…do you wanna fuckkk?” You whisper against her ear, and watch in delight as the bright-red blush spreads across her entire face like a wildfire, even reaching her collar, and spreading underneathyour shirt. “Um, yeah, duh. C’mere.”

You pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips, tangling your hands in her auburn locks and parting your puffy lips to invite her tongue in, not noticing the spit dribble down your chin where your faces met. Her breathing quickened immediately, and she whined into your mouth, the kisses getting even messier to the point where your teeth were clinking together, so you backed away for a breather.

The two of you shifted positions so she was now on top of you, resting her hand on your hip, thumb rubbing small circles. She moved in to initiate more lip-locking, but pulled away abruptly.

“Babe I forgot to tell you, so y’know Peter Parker, right?” And there she goes.

“Yeah, yeah I know him, can you just-” You try to rush past the beginnings of her rambling, because you knew once she got started, there was no end in sight. At least for a while.

You tried pulling her in to meet your lips again by the back of her head, but were met with lots of resistance. She seemed to look more alert now, a miracle. The power of superheroes!

She shuffled off of you and sat upright, assuming a cross-legged position, clearly not noticing your exasperated huffs and purposely obnoxious eye rolling, and the fact that there was a whole-ass human, half undressed, horny girl on her bed right there in front of her, who was slowly losing patience.

Ellie just went to her own world. Her eyes sparkled with passionate wonder as she thought about the series so dear to her heart. “Okay I rewatched all the movies a few days ago and I noticed something new…”

You were ready to give up what you originally had in mind, she was too far gone. She talked and talked endlessly, and you had to feign interest, nodding along and murmuring, “Mhm, yeah Els. Wow that's cool. Huh, never knew.” As enthusiastically as you could, so she didn't feel like she wasn't being listened to.

It was worth noting too though, when she started info-dumping about her interests she really was adorable, an excitement in her grassy eyes you never see otherwise, gesturing wildly with her hands and mapping out ideas to make it easy for someone who's never seen any of it to digest all this new information.

“...And then, in the movies Into the Spiderverse and Across the Spiderverse, there's this character called Gwen Stacy.”

She stops to cough and clear her throat, now seemingly appearing to completely forget that you were even there.

“And- oh yeah! She's also in the comics and ugh she's awesome, I really love her suit. It's got a hood on it…if I were to have a spider suit, it would be her style. Hm, it would also be mostly like, green…with red accents, ah I'm gonna show you all the sketches I made of it. But anyway…”

To be completely honest, you've been out of the mood for enough time now, and you've come to the realization that it actually didn't bother you.

This was Ellie, and you loved her for her! There was always next time you two met for a smoke session, you just loved spending time with someone so treasured such as her, and you'd be lying to say the Spiderman world wasn't a little interesting.

"That's so cool, wait. Okay can you explain the timeline of it all, oh and also how do all these different movies interact, is it the same universe, or something like the multiverse I think you mentioned?”

[wvyik]

paws and promises ᝰ ‧₊ ᵎᵎ

sam winchester x fem! reader

ꕤ summary: a rainstorm brings an unexpected guest into your life, but it’s the way sam cares for her that makes you fall even harder for him.

♯ warnings: extreme fluff, cat dad sam supremacy, nurturing! reader, kitten cuddles, pre established relationship, bunker life but make it dreamy, you’re in love and it’s soo obvious, peach the cat is the third main character actually, don’t read while ovulating.

♯ notes: hi my lil lovebugs… did u miss me?? because I’ve been GONE for like 10 whole days (insane) and yes it was because of stardew valley. but i’m back now with fluffy sam content to heal us all. love u. missed u. pls enjoy sam being the softest cat dad alive.

The rain had been coming down in sheets by the time he got back. Loud, unrelenting, like the sky was trying to wash the world clean. You’d been curled up on the couch in your favorite sweater, blanket pulled over your knees, the bunker feeling oddly hollow without Sam there.

He was only supposed to run out for a quick supply run, but of course, things never stayed simple for long when you were a Winchester. Still, you didn’t expect to see him burst through the door, dripping wet, carrying the grocery bags in one arm and something small, shivering, and wrapped in his flannel in the other.

You blinked, confused for a second; until the flannel moved and you heard the softest mew you’d ever heard in your life, “She was in the middle of the road,” he said, like it explained everything. And maybe it did. Because Sam couldn’t not care.

He couldn’t look at something tiny and helpless and keep walking. That’s just who he was— someone whose heart broke open for things that needed gentleness. “I didn’t even think about it. I just… I couldn’t leave her.”

And that was it. She was in your home. In your lives. In your hearts within minutes. You named her Peach, because of how fuzzy and small and soft she was. She took to Sam immediately, climbing his sweatshirt, curling into his chest like she knew exactly who had saved her.

But she didn’t avoid you— she liked curling up in your lap when you were journaling or napping with her cheek pressed to your neck when Sam carried both of you to bed. She had a favorite nap spot on top of the laundry you always forgot to fold. She started kneading on Sam’s pillow. And she had this tiny little purr that only started when you were all three together, like she knew she belonged.

Sam turned into a full-on cat dad overnight, without even realizing it. You’d wake up some mornings to find him lying flat on his stomach, using his phone light to peer under the couch because she’d chased a toy under there and refused to move. He talked to her constantly. Sometimes when he thought you were asleep, you’d hear him whispering to her in that low, careful voice, telling her stories or just… rambling softly like she was a baby in his arms.

You caught him once reading from an old lore book, letting her fall asleep on his chest while his fingers absently traced little circles behind her ears. You didn’t say anything, you just stood in the doorway, watching, your heart feeling like it could hardly hold all the love inside it.

It made you fall for him all over again, seeing that side of him. Not the hunter. Not the protector. But the caretaker. The nurturer. The boy who had once been expected to carry the world and still managed to find space for something so small. You’d be doing dishes, and he’d wander up behind you with Peach perched on his shoulder, her tiny paws settled like she was born to live there.

You’d be mid-book and he’d gently place her in your lap like a warm little offering, her purring a rhythm against your thighs. He bought her toys, a miniature bed, even little bow collars; one in soft pink that matched your favorite mug. When she scratched him once while playing, he didn’t even flinch. Just looked down at the mark and said, “She’s got your spirit,” with a soft smile.

Nights became your favorite. After lights-out, Peach would usually find her way to the foot of the bed, curling herself into the warm pocket between you two. Sam would always pull you closer, arm slipping around your waist, lips brushing the shell of your ear with a soft, “Goodnight, baby,” before everything went quiet. You’d lie there, cocooned in warmth, one of his hands resting against your back and the faint sound of Peach’s purring in the dark. And sometimes, when sleep didn’t come fast enough, you’d whisper to him about how lucky you felt. About how it felt like having a family. Even if it was just the three of you.

He’d kiss the tip of your nose and say, “It is a family,” without hesitation. And that would be enough to make your eyes sting a little.

You’d never thought a stray kitten in the rain could change so much. But now, every morning felt a little lighter. Every evening felt a little softer. You had your person. You had your home. And somehow, against all odds, you had this tiny heartbeat that reminded you to slow down, breathe deeper, and love harder.

And when you caught Sam on the floor one afternoon, curled up with Peach nestled in the crook of his arm, both of them fast asleep in a patch of sunlight, you swore you could actually feel your heart stretch with how much you loved them.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep there too. The plan was to just sit with them a little, maybe rest your eyes while the kettle boiled. But when you saw them on the floor, both of them breathing slow, wrapped in each other like they’d always belonged— you couldn’t help yourself. You laid down behind him, one hand on his back, cheek resting between his shoulder blades. And then… everything just drifted.

When you woke up, the sun had dipped lower, throwing soft gold light across the floor. The room smelled faintly like the herbal tea you never finished and the warmth of clean laundry. Sam stirred first, shifting just enough that Peach flopped gently off his bicep and into the blanket beside her like a princess tossed from her throne. She made a soft noise of protest, then curled right back into his chest like nothing ever happened. He smiled when he felt you move behind him.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, breath brushing your jaw. “Did we nap through the whole afternoon?”

“Almost,” you whispered, nuzzling against his shirt. “It was nice.”

“Peach snores,” he said quietly, like it was a secret only the two of you should know.

You giggled, fingers brushing over the edge of his hoodie sleeve. “You do too sometimes.”

He groaned softly, burying his face into your arm. “Don’t expose me like that.”

You reached up, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. “It’s cute. Everything you do is cute.”

“Yeah?” he said, lifting his head, eyes heavy and soft. “That’s dangerous information to give me.”

You smiled shyly, tucking your face into his shoulder again, feeling that warm flutter in your chest that only he ever managed to stir. You always felt like this with Sam— safe. Held. Like the world outside could be falling apart and it wouldn’t matter, because in here it was always quiet and warm and yours.

Peach chose that moment to stretch across both of your legs, her little paws flexing in her sleep like she was dreaming of chasing something. Sam watched her for a second, then looked at you with that look. The one where his eyes get soft at the edges and his lips part like he wants to say something, but he’s scared it’ll make him feel too much all at once. You knew that look by heart.

“You think she knows?” he asked quietly.

“Knows what?”

“That she owns us.”

You blinked, then smiled so softly it barely made it to your lips. “Yeah. I think she knew from the minute you picked her up.”

He didn’t answer right away. He just leaned in, brushing his nose against your cheek, thumb stroking across the back of your hand where it was tucked into his. You felt him breathe in, like he was holding something sacred inside his chest. And maybe he was.

“I like it like this,” you said eventually, voice barely a whisper. “You. Me. Her. It feels like… a little life. Not a big one. Just a soft, slow, quiet one.”

Sam closed his eyes and pulled you even closer, Peach still snoozing peacefully at your legs. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he said. “Just… this. Something that doesn’t hurt. Something warm.”

You didn’t need to say anything. You just pressed your forehead to his and let yourself sink into the moment. The golden light. The hush of the room. The sound of Peach’s tiny breathing and Sam’s thumb tracing your knuckles. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t thinking about what came next. There was no monster to fight, no crisis to solve. Just a boy, a girl, and a kitten who made everything softer.

And God, if that wasn’t enough to make you believe in a little bit of magic.

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⤿ wanna be tagged in my fics?.. don't be shy! @ taglist.

tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library.

[prosypepper]

“taping it” with tooru oikawa

this is part four of my kinktober event!

word count: 1.5k

warnings: nsfw, timeskip oikawa, recording, degredation, unprotected p in v, finishing inside, backshots, fingering, squirting mention🙌, nasty nasty nasty. (18+ mdni!)

notes: early :33 enjoy first haikyuu fic. also need recommendations for what to do w toji cus i wanna write for him so badddd😆but im out of ideas. love u!

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

play ▸

0:01

0:02

0:03

“is it recording?” you ask, soon appearing in the frame as your fiancé adjusts the camera. oikawa squints at the screen, grinning when he can see the full view of the bed behind him. he steps back, turning around, walking over to your cute form, and you’re covering your naked body with a fuzzy blanket. his bare body is shown off to the camera, in all of his glory – hard cock bobbing as he struts towards the bed. 

the hotel room is lit by the two lamps on either side of the bed, casting a yellow-white glow over the both of you. oikawa crawls over you, coming to plant a sweet kiss on your lips. he’s so sweet and tender with you – and awfully desperate to show the world who he really belongs to. you lean into his kiss, locking your lips with his, holding onto his shoulders. his slim, experienced hands come to drag the blanket off you, but you quickly stop him.

“tooru, wait—i’m nervous,” you squeak, giving your fiancé an utterly adorable look with your doe eyes. he smiles at your expression, cockily soaking how anxious he continues to make you, even after so many years of being together. 

“it’s okay, pretty girl,” tooru coos in reply, watching how your eyes cross as they focus on his lips coming to your forehead. the kiss makes you relax into the sheets and let go of the blanket, allowing for oikawa to peel the blanket off. “relax, just gonna show the world how well you satisfy me, y’know, since they’re so concerned.” 

right… the whole reason your soon-to-be husband suggested this tape was because of all the hate comments online, the forum posts and discussions had online about how there’s no way a man like oikawa was going to marry you. your engagement broke the internet, and now, well… 

the two of you were about to break the internet again.

3:46

3:47

3:48

“open your legs, pretty,” tooru commands, pushing the soft blanket to the side of your body. no matter how many times you did this, you always felt so nervous exposing yourself to him. like he was a god among men—and with his looks, no one could blame you. 

“okay, tooru,” you murmur, spreading your thighs slightly. oikawa can’t help but relish in how trembly you are, anticipating his next move. he takes leeway to quickly grab behind your knees, pushing your legs against your chest, holding you in place by the back of your thighs. no time is wasted before he leans down, tongue darting out to meet your slick folds. 

you throw your head back into the soft pillows, hand reaching for tooru’s  hair to pull it. he groans at his locks being tugged, the vibration sending chills down your spine. the tip of his tongue comes to circle around your clit briefly, before wrapping his lips around the nub and suckling delicately. every squeak and moan of his name is music to his ears – and picked up by the camera, too. his tongue dips down lower, slightly fucking you with his tongue to pull more choked whimpers from your throat. 

there’s nothing else like the taste of you to tooru. the way he felt about you would be described as worship – in each conference or interview he quite literally couldn’t shut up about you. he wouldn’t shut up about you. he made sure that everyone knew just how much he loved you.

that’s what he was doing now, too.

9:59

10:00

10:01

“you ready, baby?” tooru coos into your ear, peppering a few tickly kisses to your neck and cheek. you giggle and nod your head. a sweet gasp is drawn out from your lips the moment oikawa lines himself up, your sensitive hole fluttering around just the little bit he had given you. tooru lifts his head up to look at you; with your eyes screwed shut and mouth slightly agape, all in anticipation for him.

tooru slowly begins to push himself in, aching length stretching you out so easily. you whimper loudly at the familiar stretch, a heavenly feeling the more he slips into you. when he bottoms out, tooru stays still for a few moments, giving both of you time to get lost in the feeling. your mind goes halfway blank, and all the way when he begins to pull his hips back and slam them into you. 

his back facing the camera looks a bit awkward at this point, as it shows his whole body tensing up with each harsh thrust he gives you. the camera only picks up on the loud slapping of skin together, and each moan you give that’s loud enough. 

oikawa allows himself to let loose for this first part, jackhammering his pelvis into you meanly. he kisses your cervix every time he slams his cock all the way into you, earning confirming moans and whimpers that you just love it so much. all your noises are compliments to tooru, they each make his head grow bigger and self-esteem rise—as if he needed that, anyway.

28:47

28:48

28:49

“tooru—,”

“what, hmm?”

you slap your hands over your face in embarrassment, all to the pleasure of your fiancé as he opens your legs to rest atop his own. he has you comfortably sat on the corner of the bed, while his legs come on either side of you, trapping you into a position with your thighs open. this position gave the camera a good look at you, feeling more exposed than you had thus far. 

but the second the tips of oikawa’s fingers poke your spongy g-spot, those worries practically melt. 

it would be no surprise to anyone how good the tooru oikawa was with his fingers. but unfortunately for anyone else, they’d never have a chance to experience his skills in the way you did. he had come to know all the sweet spots of you, inside and out, and he used them to his full advantage. tooru took pleasure in making you crumble by himself, and how easily you did so. 

the camera picks up the lewd imaging of you spread out, the famous setter’s middle and ring finger slowly yet surely pumping in and out of you, your body quivering each time he hit that spot.

49:56

49:57

49:58

“tooru—please,” you plead, choked sobs coming from your throat.

your fiancé has no intentions of giving up on his crusade—but you’re beginning to regret allowing him to make this tape. he had been fingering you for realistically about 20 minutes, but in your mind, it felt like 20 years. 

it was insane how much pleasure can be brought to you by someone’s hand.

a nasty squelching is halfway picked up by the microphone, but unfortunately, the viewers wouldn’t be able to hear the filth being poured into your ears. it was unholy, the mouth on that man. yet he whispered so quietly, just to you, some things that would honestly ruin his career—almost as much as this sex tape would.

tooru’s constant switching of attitude gave you whiplash.

“you’re so disgusting, getting off like this in front of a camera.” “this feel good, baby? ohh, what about this?” “so pretty, baby, look at yourself.” “tell them how much you love me.” “oh my god, did you just squirt on me? nasty.”

you practically cry of embarrassment, shame, and pleasure all in one as you gush around tooru’s fingers. eyes roll into the back of your head, crying out more when he rips his fingers out of you just to rub your clit and force more out of you.

chest heaving, you throw your head back onto tooru’s chest, waving a white flag to tell him you were ruined. yet, after giving you a whole minute to calm down, he kisses your cheek and begins to shuffle, moving you and flipping you around. before you know it, your eyes can’t help but make out your figure in the camera, in a deep, lazy arch.

“almost done showing ‘em, babe.”

1:12:17

1:12:18

1:12:19

tooru revels in the reflection of himself in the camera, a smug look on his face when he clutches onto your hips even tighter. your poor body is all the way fucked out, pathetically shoving forward into the sheets. 

“where do you want me to cum, angel?” oikawa smoothly asks, cocky grin apparent just from the way he speaks to you, “tell ‘em where you want it.”

“inside, tooru—cum inside, please,” you reply, making sure it’s loud enough to be picked up on film.

your fiancé wastes no time to harden up with his thrusts, bursting inside of you after a few pumps. your walls squeeze around him and milk him dry, keeping inside every bit of seed you were gifted. shaky legs twitch and spasm when tooru pulls out of you, leaning down to give you a sweet kiss on your left temple. 

mere seconds pass, and oikawa steps off the bed—somehow, still hard—and walks over to the camera, smiling at your tired body, leaving an awkward angle of his face as he picks it up to stop the recording.

1:15:43…

replay? ⟳

[pizzaapeteer]

a whole lot of pink

Happy birthday @finalgirllx ilysm 💘 here's a little fluffy bf mattheo surprising reader with some wholesome comfort treats for her birthday!! cute divder from here

Red spots blur among the black, beneath the hold of Mattheo’s hand currently blocking your vision. His warmth radiates sending flushes to your cheeks, his voice guiding you, but not very well. “Mattheo, are we almost there?” His other hand grasps your shoulder, suddenly veering you sideways to avoid another pole and a velvet laugh brushes your ears.

“You’re very whiny for someone who’s getting a treat.” His eyes flicker over your head, frowning at the commotion happening up further. A frustrated sigh as he makes a move hand motion to his idiot friends who are blocking his door, worried they’re about to ruin your surprise.

“It’s dark and my birthday.”

“No shit y/n.”

“Hey don’t take that tone with me.”

He places his lips on your cheek, a soft apology, murmuring gently in your ear, “sorry not much longer. You’re gonna love it, I promise.”

He whispers calm instructions to you for every step up the stairs and you cling to him walking with slow precision. Feeling your nerves spike for the reveal, though excited Mattheo is pretty unpredictable and the unknown plans for your birthday doesn’t help ease your mind. 

The wood creaks under the pressure of both your weights, and you hear some light snickers surrounding you. Catching the familiar voices of Mattheo’s friends causing your brows to crease, the hair tickling his hand. “Matty?” A subtle whine escapes you and he lowers his free hand to squeeze your waist reassuringly. 

His tone is low and smooth as he chuckles, “Relax, ignore them, just another 10 seconds aight.” He pushes his way into his dorm, shuffling you forward with the guidance of his chest pressing against your back. 

The fuzzy blackness darkens blocking out the remaining light and you bite your tongue clinging to him a little tighter, sure he’s going to pull some sort of prank on you. He mutters “Lumos”, and removes his hand breathing a sweet whisper, “happy birthday baby.” 

He leans back against the door frame, crossing his arms across his chest, biting back his boyish grin in excitement watching for your reaction. 

The once messy and unorganized boys' dorm shared amongst him and his friends stares back at you, transformed into something unrecognizable. It’s pink. So very, very pink. 

Amongst the array of his usual blankets and cushions is the cozy sweetness of pink presents, candles, and balloons. You never thought you’d see the day your favourite colour was associated with the boy whose aura was full black.

You let out a shocked gasp covering your mouth with a choked laugh, “Mattheo, what in the hell!” The giggle escapes you in your awe and bewilderment at the man who has so openly stepped out of his comfort zone to make your special day even better. 

The more your eyes trail, flickering over everything miraculously, your heart tightens with warmth, a pure swell of pride and love for Mattheo. Sweet blueberry wine and the comfort of your favourite ramen ready to indulge nests between the scream movie he’s picked out for you to watch. 

“You did all this? For me?” Turning around to face him, you cup his cheeks with bright shining eyes filled with excitement and affection. His hands find their way back around your waist and he nods, giving a casual shrug, as if no big deal that his room looked as if a pygmy puff had sneezed. 

But a small satisifed smile slips through, lightening his eyes, and he pulls you in for a kiss. He uses the moment to share all his love and appreciation for being with you, a kiss that holds so much meaning no words need to be uttered. It’s short and sweet, but it still leaves you starstruck, like with everything Mattheo did for you.  

“You’re the best.” You mumble against his lips, “I love you.” The gift is perfect, simple and everything you wanted. He grins mumbling a soft love you too back before he’s so displeasingly interrupted by the forgotten-on watchers. 

“You’re so welcome y/n!” There’s a shout that calls from the hallway behind Mattheo, before another holler “whipped boy spent hours planning this for you!”

Mattheos head cranes with unnecessary speed, looking back to glare at the hecklers he knows to be Theo and Lorenzo. He scowls, unappreciative at their playful jabs, fighting back the blush that threatens to rise, flushing his neck. “Sod off you fuckers.”  

There is a chorus of snickers from them while they retreat down towards the common room, Enzo yelling at once more, “Remember the curfew Riddle! She’s out by 11!!” 

He rolls his eyes with exaggeration, pulling you closer and biting back the grin, running a hand through his hair. He redirects his attention back to you hearing your stifled amusement and cocks a brow, his eyes holding a playful threat, “oh you think that’s funny, huh?”

He shuts the door, trapping the two of you alone, his hands already gliding over you in an attack of tickles. He walks you till you fall back on the couch, his hands continuing his onslaught, “you're such a little minx baby.” He leans his head down, planting ticklish kisses along your neck, enjoying how it adds to your squirming and attempts to push him off with your little stops. 

“It’s a good thing it’s your birthday or who knows how I'd punish a brat like you.” His eyes flicker over the adorable flush that adorns those cute cheeks. His teeth dig, biting into the swell of his lips before helping you back up and settle in beside him. His arm snuggles comfortably over your shoulder. 

“Damn right it’s a good thing. You’re supposed to worship me all day.” The attitude slips out as you tuck yourself lovingly under his arm, looking up at him with cheekiness.  

“Worship you?” His brows scrunch amused, challenging your statement before sliding his hand through your hair tugging you closer. “Oh baby, that I can do just fine, c’mere.” 

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[seungfl0wer]

Sub Leeknow with mommy kink??

*Mommy Please*

Paring: Sub!Minho x Dom!Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Mommy Kink, Oral (M&F), Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Choking (M), Begging, Not Proofread. If there’s anything I missed lemme know

This was a whole time I had with this lol, I absolutely love this kinda stuff 😩 but also I deleted the whole thing by accident luckily I was able to redo it. Thank you for requesting! Also this is a petition for more Mommy kink fics @ myself get to it

-🩵

Minho was always more on the dominate side, he just oozed it. So when you saw him in hard thought you poked till he gave in.

“Min come on just tell me what’s bothering you.” You said poking his shoulder. “Nothing” he said bluntly not even looking at you. You rolled your eyes “you’ve been in deep concentration for a good 10 minutes what is it.” You whined moving so you’d be face to face with him. He sighed loudly “y/n it’s nothing I just-“ he signed again before he continued “you know the other day when we were all joking and you called yourself ‘mommy’?” He said words trailing off.

You nod yes “mhm? What about it? Find it hot or something” you teased mostly joking. He glared at you for a second “and if I did?” He said staring at you to see your reaction. “You? Lee Minho? Have a mommy kink? Like where I’d be the dom one?” You said eyes searching to see if he was joking. “Yes y/n.. maybe I do” he said softly. A lightbulb in your head must have just turned on and it was bright. The sides of your lips turned into a devilish smile “is that so? And what exactly do you want mommy to do then?” You say your voice sounding like honey so sweet but sticking to the inside of his brain.

He let out a soft whimper at your words “I- I want you-“ he said his voice cracking trying to find his words. You smiled now getting up to sit on his lap. You pulled his face to you inches away from you could feel his hot breath on you. “And what exactly do you want my sweet boy? Hmm?” You said leaning down to kiss his neck sloppily. “Tell me exactly what you want.” You said against now by his ear nibbling it slightly. He bucked his hips a bit at your words “y/n fuck I-“ he started before you cut him off “uh uh baby it’s Mommy to you. Now unless you tell me what you want you won’t be getting anything. Be a good boy and tell me hmm?”

He let out a soft groan his brain already so fuzzy “I want you to- let me fuck you-“ his words soft almost a whisper. “Mmm? That so baby? You wanna be buried in Mommy sweet pussy hmm?” You cooed moving your hips against him. You could feel how hard he was but you weren’t any better, this whole situation was just so extremely hot. He moaned at the friction you were causing his hands flung to your hips.

“How about you let mommy play with you a bit first.” You said smiling moving off his lap to your knees taking his pants down to his ankles. “Mo-“ he started to talk but you quickly took his cock into your mouth. ‘Fuck’ he groaned out loudly. His hips jolted upwards making you stop your movement. He whined looking down at you “be a good boy now, no moving.” You said before wrapping your mouth back around him. You took a free hand to cup his balls as you took all his length. Feeling it hit the back of your throat, the moans he was letting out made you wanna just sink yourself into him.

His hands were digging into the couch “M-Mommy please- gon cum” he said softly “i don’t think you asked baby.” You said pulling away. You slapped his cock softly not enough for it to really hurt but enough for it to send a message. He groaned at the feeling “sorry, please come back I’ll be good.” He says giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes “mm you’re lucky you’re so cute, but I think I have another idea. How about you put that dirty mouth of yours to use and make mommy feel good?”

You sat up on the couch, Minho wasting no time moving between your legs. He pulled your panties off keeping them in his hand while he started to vigorously lap at your entrance. He pushed his tongue into you his nose hitting your clit as he pushed 2 fingers into you. No matter what Minho was always so fucking good at going down on you. He knew exactly what to do and what felt good for you, he could always bring you close to your high fast like this.

Through moans you looked down and chuckled a bit at the sight of Minho using your panties, he had them wrapped around the tip of his cock as he fucked into them and his hand. The sight making you clench around his fingers “fuck you’re such a desperate dirty boy aren’t you.” You cooed. He looked so fucked out already his mind was empty only thought of you. You pulled his head up to you, whispering into his ear to finally “be a good boy and make mommy cum on that pathetic dripping cock of his.”

He scrambled to his feet tripping a bit over his pants you had pulled down. “Baby’s so needy he’s falling everywhere, so pussy drunk he can’t stand.” You teased him as he found his balance he quickly aligned his cock to your wet hole pushing in slowly but deep. “So- mm so warm mommy- feel s’good” he moaned out. He started off slow but deep until he felt your walls clench around him again. Your pussy pulling him in just made him weak as he thrusted into you faster and harder. ‘Fuck’ you both let out at the feeling. You slid your hands up one finding his neck squeezing it slightly.

You swear you saw Minhos eyes roll the whole way back “no-“ he said loudly pulling out of you trying to stop himself from cumming. “I’m- I can’t- please mommy can- can I cum?” He asked his eyes frantic “mmm I guess baby you have been such a good boy for me” you said pulling him to you to kiss him softly. He slowly pushed back into you letting his hand find its way to your clit. His movements were very sloppy as he fucked into you. His hand motions weren’t any better but he focused more on that. Rubbing small circles around your sensitive nub.

You both were cursing, falling apart at the feelings. “Gonna cum for me baby? Gonna be a good boy and fill mommy pussy with all your cum?” You said gripping your hand around his throat once more. He nodded slightly feeling his legs jitter as his high washed over him. He pushed as deep into as he could before cumming hard, you’ve never felt him cum so much he was filling you to the brim. Fuck. You felt your high coming over you as well feeling Minhos body against yours his hand never stopping on your clit.

“Cum for me please” he groaned as he moved his hips a little the feeling of the cum gushing around him made you groan. Your high rushed over you as you came your walls gripping around his oh so sensitive cock still buried deep into you. You both groaned one more time before he collapsed down beside you. You pulled him into your chest rubbing his head “you did great baby” you said moving some hair outta his face before kissing it. “Y/n- that was the hottest thing in the world” he said between pants.

You nod smiling at him “I see why you like it when I choke you.” He chuckled a bit. “Mhm feels good don’t it” you said as he nodded to your question. “Not as good as you.” He said kissing your chest.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Reign Down on Me - Part 10

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

A/N: sorry this took so long, but i hope y'all enjoy! Can't wait to hear what you think of it 💕

-🐺-

“Gaz.”

You pretended to still be watching the TV while you called on the sergeant. Up till that point he’d been scrolling mindlessly on his phone, but out of the corner of your eyes you could see him look up. Meanwhile the couple that had been on the screen were still locked in a passionate embrace - giving you a perfect excuse for your question. 

“You’ve had like…girlfriends or boyfriends or whatever while you’ve been serving, right?”

At first he snorted. 

Finally you turned around and met his gaze properly, steeling yourself against the grin that was threatening to break out on his face. He quirked his lips for a moment while his eyes remained fixed on you, alight and shining at the idea of you wanting to talk about relationships. It froze you in place for a moment, tense at the idea he’d see right through your reason for asking or had overheard you and Rudy talking throughout the week. 

“I have. Why you askin’?” He finally said, actually turning his body fully into the conversation. 

“I just wondered if it was difficult. You know - to maintain a relationship.” 

“It’s not easy. Our jobs make us unreliable, not present - even if we’re in the same place sometimes, tired, grumpy. I reckon my exes could write a book with things to moan about,” he laughed. “To be fair though I could’ve tried harder with em. I think I’m just a bit too deep in the job right now to make something properly work outside of all this, you know?”

“So none of them were other soldiers then?” You asked, tilting your head. 

“Nah. That’d be a fuckin nightmare! Imagine trying to find time for each other while you’ve got two different fucked schedules, then there’s having to make sure you’re not in the same units so you don’t get hit with punishments for fraternisation and all that shit.”

You instantly turned away and nodded, zoning back in on the TV again. The couple were trading sly smiles while they passed by each other at work, the fuzzy music played softly and sent your ears flicking at the sound. It was your hope that the subject would be dropped then, but even you weren’t stupid enough to think that would be that. 

“Why the sudden interest in relationships then?” Gaz asked, leaning his arm against the couch and propping his head on his hand. 

It didn’t matter how much you pretended to love whatever the show was, or how far forward you sat, you couldn’t evade Gaz’s sites. He was there in the corner of your eyes, filling the space like a prowling jungle cat. The only way you were getting out was through the conversation. 

“Well…I’ve never really been in a relationship or had the chance to be in one. None of us hybrids really got on that well at Branhaven and I sure as shit wasn’t gonna shack up with any of the handlers. Now that I live with you guys though, I thought maybe I’d have a shot at having…something someday,” you said quietly, giving him a brief glance back.

“And I’ve just shat all over your parade,” Gaz said, raising his eyebrows. 

“Pretty much,” you answered with a faux huff. “Dick.”

Gaz’s breathy laugh brushed past your ears. It forced you to turn back to him fully, so that you could properly behold the soft brown hues of his creasing eyes. Even in the dingy space that made up the los vaqueros rec room, his eyes were so warm. 

“Have you really never been with anyone?” He asked, letting a hint of a frown settle on his face. 

“Nope,” you shrugged. 

“Ever kissed anyone?”

“Hm…does kissing someone on the cheek in nursery count?”

“Hell no,��� Gaz laughed. “Who were you kissing in nursery anyway you little Casanova?”

“His name was Shawn. His family was moving away and he was the only other hybrid in my class, so he was the only one I really played with. We both gave each other a kiss on the cheek goodbye. I was far from a ‘Casanova’,” you said indignantly, already crossing your arms in protest. 

“I’m sure it was very sweet, but that’s definitely not a real kiss,” he shrugged.

“Didn’t realise you were the arbiter of kisses.”

“I don’t need to be the arbiter to say you gotta do it like them,” he said, signalling at the lovers on the TV, “to have it really count.”

“Well shit, I’ve never had that happen at my job.”

The couple were now fucking quite ferociously in the supply cupboard at their work. Paper and trays were flying and shelves were being rocked, but nevertheless they faced no interruption despite the storm they were creating. Even just breathing as heavily as they were would’ve had them kicked out in real life, you thought. 

“So you’ve never fucked anyone either then? You’re like a full proper virgin, apart from your Shawn love affair of course.”

You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Didn’t say that,” you shrugged.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?”

“You shagged someone, but you never kissed?”

“It wasn’t like we were doing it because we really liked each other,” you supplied. “We both just agreed we’d scratch a mutual itch and go our separate ways after.”

It went almost exactly as clinically as how it sounded too. Even thinking back to that night where you’d both snuck off to the bathroom together, you could only remember the giddy joy you felt at actually getting off with someone else instead of feeling anything for the other hybrid. Which was a good thing too because it wasn’t like you’d ever seen him afterward. You’d never been sent back to Norway again. 

He’d shucked off his clothes and told you to do the same, confirming you still wanted to do it. He’d so nicely asked “you still want to fuck, yes?” And barely said a word more, only a few “harder”s or “no, like this”. You’d both been pressed up against that cold concrete corner, hands grasping through the dark, and trembling bodies quietly drinking in each others attentions while making sure to stay as quiet as possible in fear of waking up your superiors. He’d been more experienced, so he’d gotten you off first and then he finished, only taking a moment's breath before wiping himself off and putting his clothes back on. He’d left you alone to collect yourself soon after. 

“Well that shouldn’t count either,” Gaz said, after you’d given him an overview of your experience. 

“What? But we actually did it! We both came and everything.”

“Came and then went! Sounds shite,” Gaz groaned. “Shaggin’s meant to be fun. Not just ticking each others boxes and then walking off.” 

“Damn, you’re really not letting me have anything here,” you smirked, refolding your arms again. 

“Because you’re supposed to really want it off the person you’re with, like be able to kiss them and talk and laugh and stuff. If I’d had someone bark instructions at me and then leave me straight after I’d feel like it was part of our job or something.”

“Almost my whole life’s been this job, it’s not like I ever thought I’d get anything like you’ve probably had. When I finally got old enough to even have sex I’d already been working for years. Sex like that is the only way I get to get off with someone,” you explained, trailing off a little at the end when you thought back to Rudy revealing more about he and Alejandro. 

So what you were saying wasn’t strictly true. However it wasn’t like you were going to reveal to Gaz that you’d been picturing you and various match ups in the 141 to a degree where you were struggling to concentrate at least daily now. Every interaction with Price and Gaz had felt charged with a thousand volts of electricity where it hadn’t necessarily been before. 

Price could be shifting you out the way while he walked by you, putting his hand against your back and you’d practically melt into it. Gaz had ruffled your hair condescendingly after you’d gotten the all clear for your hip from the doctor and your scalp had tingled for the rest of the day after. Then there was the phone call you’d had with Ghost…hearing his voice rumbling down the line made your stomach do weird little flips and had your tail wagging the whole time even while he was chastising you for losing control. 

You blamed it all squarely on big stupid Rudy. Rudy who had been training with you on the matts the day before, targeting your sore hip the whole time while divulging little details of he and Alejandro’s relationship.

He’d told you about how they grew up together on the same street. Trained together. Fought together. One day Rudy had almost been killed, trying to protect Alejandro so fiercely he’d jumped in front of a bullet for him. Then after he’d had his shoulder patched up, he’d apparently gotten tired of Alejandro’s lecturing and found a creative way to shut him up. 

When Rudy had suggested you try something similar with your team, now that you were constantly getting heat for your injury, you’d gotten as hot as a lava rock before tumbling off the edge of the matt. Your distraction had been fully taken advantage of by your smarmy wise-ass opponent who’d decided to throw you from the fight. 

“So now that you’re with us, you think you’ll be able to find someone to fuck you properly then?” Gaz asked, pulling you back into the room so hard you were left blinking back at him without response. 

You tried to respond to that with anything other than a high pitched whine. Though you decided to stay silent when you realised that was impossible. 

“Jesus, your face. You’re getting all embarrassed just at the thought. You’re such a virgin.”

“I am not embarrassed! And I’m not a virgin!”

“Yeah you are, you’re doing that thing with your ears!” Gaz grinned. 

“What thing with my ears?” You whined.

“They always go lopsided when you’re embarrassed, one always points up and the other one folds back all awkwardly. Juuust like that,” Gaz said, quickly snapping a picture with his phone. 

“Hey!”

Gaz turned the phone so that you could see. The ear situation was exactly as he described, while your mouth slanted into a displeasured frown and your eyes were set hard into the screen. 

You smacked his phone from his hand so that it landed on the couch. From there you used the opportunity to snatch it up, quickly scrabbling against the old material to prize it up. Just before you could delete it however Gaz dove on top of you, easily overpowering you and prying the phone from your clawing hands. Your back was pressed flat onto the couch cushions, your body straining as his full weight sat on top of you, angled so that he could fend of your legs with his body, hold back your hands with one arm and use his one free hand to secure his phone. 

“Gaz, get off! I’ll bite you!” You protested, voice going squeaky as he kept you pinned underneath him. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” he laughed, holding his phone high above your head. “Price would go mental at you.”

“What are you doing?” You huffed, almost getting a bit of leverage over his forearm until he shunted it back fully into place and squashed your arms in the process.

“Taking some lovely pictures for Ghost. The man’s been desperate for  updates while we’ve been away, you know,” Gaz said, clearly typing something while he still fended you off. 

“Don’t send him pictures! Ah, Gaz! That’s it, I’m going nuclear.” 

You flung your head up and licked all down the length of his arm, slobbering down the full bulk of it and sending him recoiling. A satisfied grin lit your face when his phone fell down the back of the cushions. You then twisted your body, managing to use the nasty surprise and the momentum so that you could reverse the position, landing on top of him while he was squashed to the couch. Though you almost faltered when you saw him below you, you still kept a good drip. You managed to hold him there a moment, looking down at him with all your mixed feelings twisting their way through your gut. 

“That’s fighting dirty, Pup,” Gaz huffed, not bothering to struggle now that you were on top.

Both of you breathed heavily, you could feel Gaz’s heartbeat rattling quickly below you. It was pounding heavily against your legs from where you sat above him. Your own heartbeat hammered erratically, growing more wild at the compromised position. 

“I’m a hybrid! I need the element of surprise to have the upper hand,” you said, trying desperately to keep to the topic at hand. 

“Colour me surprised then.”

“And me. What the fuck are you two playing at then, eh?”

Both you and Gaz whipped your heads round at the same time, meeting the irate eyes of Price. You felt your ears lower immediately and clambered off of Gaz, awkwardly looking away while you fixed yourself. Gaz’s smile had dropped, but he didn’t worry about looking sorry. He flipped himself up and tilted his head. 

“Nothin’, just messing around. What’s up, Cap?” 

“I’ll thank you both to not get yourselves injured doing anything stupid, please,” he said sternly.

“Sorry, Sir,” you mumbled, ears still laying flat against your head. 

“None of that,” Price grunted. “I need to send you both off today. I’ve got some contacts I’m going to get in touch with, but I trust that you two can manage some reconnaissance without me. That alright?”

“Course, Sir,” Gaz answered.

You nodded along with him. 

“Good. Go get something to eat and get ready to head out.”

“Is it just the two of us going?” Gaz asked. 

“No. Your company is waiting in the canteen for you,” he said, a sly smile beginning to form across his lips. 

Immediately you got a sense that you were going to like the group you were going out with. Your tail twitched and your ears perked up, Gaz and Price couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. Though when you shot Price a look to confirm your suspicions he leaned back and sobered, nodding his head at you as if to answer your question. 

It’s him. You thought. 

You raced up from the couch and away from the booming laughter, who’s echoes followed you down the hallway. After bolting like a wild stallion and flying past multiple shocked people you burst into the little canteen and looked around slowly until your eyes zeroed in on your target. 

It didn’t take long for you to find the black balaclava, the familiar scarred mouth below revealed so that he could eat the steaming rice and vegetables on his plate. His big body was angled away from you, talking to his mohawked companion and blissfully unaware of the presence about to attack him. 

“Ghost,” You whispered to yourself. 

You couldn’t hold yourself back. As conscious as you felt of all the other people spread throughout the room, you weren’t able to let them stop you from running up to Ghost and wrapping your arms around him and whining.  

“I’m gonna assume that’s you, Pup. Otherwise Rudy’s gotten awfully sweet on me.”

Hearing the low timbre of his voice was enough to get your tail into a frenzy. He was really there and you were getting to hug him. Even better - he soon stood up and brought you round to his front so that you could snuggle up under his chin. His scent filled your whole body, your lungs burned with him. 

“You’re here,” you sighed, adjusting into the bulk of him. 

“Jeez, I’m feelin a bit left out, Pup. I’m here too,” Soap said from behind you. 

“You don't appreciate my hugs, MacTavish.”

“Says who?” Soap said, a smile evident in his voice. “Get over here, you wee shite.”

He grabbed you then, forcing you from Ghost and wrapping his big stupid barrel arms around your body. Even while being crushed you had to admit that you loved the attention. It also meant you got to face Ghost, even if you had a silly grin plastered all over your face and a wag in your tail that wouldn’t leave. Nothing got you more excited than seeing the coy smile he wore just for you. 

“Missed you too, Pup,” Ghost said, angling his head toward your tail. 

“Really?”

“Mhmm,” he murmured, his voice silky smooth in your ears. “Been lonely walking around without my little shadow.”

“Then you should’ve come sooner,” you huffed, finally breaking free of Soap’s arms. 

Soap flashed you a cheeky smile, his eyes glimmering brightly at you as if all his past fears had been allayed. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder, huh. Though you didn’t get to dwell on that for long.

Soon enough you were yanked back onto Ghost by the collar, forced to sit astride his massive lap and face him directly in the eyes. The fact the top half of his balaclava was still secured only made his stare more intense, the bright pools of his eyes practically spitting off heat they focused so hard. No matter how hard you scrabbled against him, he kept you like that, pinned onto him with no other choice but to face him down. 

“You shouldn’t have taken yourself off to the kennels, naughty Pup,” Ghost said lowly, breath hot on your cheek. “The reason I wasn’t here sooner was because I was busy undoing Price’s mess these past few days. You don’t ever make decisions like that without me there again. You’re my responsibility, mine to look after - not Price’s, not Gaz’s, not anyone else's. Do you understand?”

Your mouth went dry, you were still actively squirming in place. You didn’t understand the sudden shift in his demeanour. He’d never treated you like that before. He’d never grabbed you or spoken to you with such a menacing tone. Nevertheless it felt like he was holding your collar like he was about to stick a gun to your head.

Your ears had flattened and your tail had calmed, nervously twitching as it dangled to the ground. After taking a nervous gulp, you nodded. Mood thoroughly soured.

“I just thought it’d be better if I got it over with… Price tried so many ways to get me out, I thought they’d make it worse if I fought it.”

“Yeah? Well I've Sorted it now, I was never gonna leave you in that little prick’s care so that he could hurt you and do whatever he wanted just to prove a point. This,” he said, jingling your handler tag, “means that I have a duty to you, and you have a duty to me. We look out for each other - we’re legally bound together for as long as we live. Part of that means that you don’t go off taking orders from whoever slings their rank around. Okay? Don’t put yourself in a position to get hurt just because you’re used to assuming that’s the right thing to do.”

“Ok,” you said meekly, nodding hard despite the grip Ghost still had on your tag. 

He huffed out a breath, finally exhaling after his tirade and releasing you. All the heat in his eyes died and suddenly they were back to crinkling jewels. You had to blink back at them just to know that you weren’t seeing things. He’d looked so angry…no,that wasn’t really it, was it? He was hurt, annoyed maybe. The way he’d been speaking was desperate, in only the way Ghost could sound desperate. Making sure that his point hammered home. 

Your shoulders sagged and you let your ears cautiously spring to a neutral position, finally summoning the courage to look away from him. The noise of all the other diners floated back to you, forcing you to look around to see if anyone had paid much attention to your scolding. Apparently not, Ghost had been quiet enough so as not to attract much attention beyond a few stray stares. 

“Hey,” Soap said, reminding you that he was still sitting across from you. “You know he’s only getting on at you because he was running around like a mother goose tryna keep you from those wankers in 104.”

You turned to him, grateful for an excuse for someone else to look at. Even while remaining heavy hearted at upsetting, his words had perked you up a little. You could feel your ears raise a little more above your head. 

“Mother goose?” you repeated back, a smile rising on your lips.

“Oh yeah, he was flapping around like crazy. Giving it ‘If anything happens to Pup, I’ll shoot the fucker responsible. I don’t care if its just a hair out of place, mark my words, Johnny. They’ll be bloody unidentifiable!’,” Soap said, doing one of his dreadful Ghost impressions. 

It made you laugh if nothing else. Ghost groaned from behind you, but pulled you further into him, and further into his scent. You breathed him in and sighed, nuzzling underneath his chin and into your favourite spot. Even if he had just told you off like a bad dog, you couldn’t hold it against him. All that mattered was that you were back together again and he had somehow managed to solve your little situation. 

Which did make you wonder…how the hell did he manage to pull that off? And how lastingly mad was Ghost going to be. 

“Ghost?” you mumbled into his collarbone.

“Mm?”

“How long are you going to be angry with me?”

Most important question comes first naturally. 

“I’m not angry with you. I just needed to get my point across. Somehow I’ve got to look after you, but you make it really bloody difficult when you’re always off flying into trouble,” he grunted. “First I’ve got to deal with the kennel debacle and then I’m getting a call from Price telling me you got yourself shot. Feel like I’ve hardly had a minute to breathe with everything going on.”

“Not to mention you’ve got that fuckin’ parade thing to look forward to now,” Soap snorted, pointing his fork in Ghost’s direction.

“Parade thing? What?” 

Ghost was about to explain, but Gaz and Price turned up before he could open his mouth. Gaz took his place next to Soap, setting his tray down on the table before bumping his shoulder. Price sat between you all and smiled to himself when he saw you curled into your handler. He handed you a tray of steaming hot chicken and rice after he’d set his own in front of him. 

“Happy now?” Price asked. 

“Mm, almost,” you dead panned. “Apparently Ghost has to go marching off to some parade though.”

“That’s a negative. We have to go marching off to the parade and demonstration day, Pup. Both of us.”

Your ears dropped back again and you drew back from Ghost’s side just so that you could eye him directly. What did he just say? You couldn’t work out why on earth anyone would want you in a military parade. Your tail was broken. You were awful at drilling. How on earth was this going to work? 

“Uh…say what now?”

“Time to polish up your dancin’ shoes, sparky,” Soap grinned. “Face left! Forward! Stop! Find your center!” 

Soap’s drill sergeant impression, complete with leg movements, landed like a lead balloon. Gaz elbowing him did very little to relieve its weight. You breathed out a bone weary sigh and collapsed against Ghost. 

“Just leave me in the kennels to rot.”

“Now, now, Pup. That’s not the attitude,” Ghost chuckled. “Where’s my - ‘oh thank you Ghost, you’re my hero’ speech?”

“I musta left it behind in my non-parade trousers,” you glowered. 

Price laughed a rich laugh, luckily just in-between eating. The others all sported smiles that did nothing to make up for the annoyance that was plastered all over your face. 

“What’s the big deal? All you gotta do is a little frog marching and a bit of demo on how you work?” Gaz said, trying to reassure you. 

“The ‘big deal’ is that I don’t wanna be a spectacle for the general public to gawk at,” you said sourly. “Ive seen parades, because I’m usually too beat up to be called into them mind you, and they suck for hybrids! We have to dress up all fancy in those silly little harnesses and dumb berets and then we get dragged around like animals on stupid gold rope leashes. Then as if that’s not embarrassing enough they’re gonna make me growl and bark in front of everyone to show off the ‘fearlessness of our fair British troupe in the face of agression’ - no thanks.”

“I hate the growlin’ thing,” Soap muttered, sticking a forkful of chicken in his mouth.

“Well it’s still better than getting beat up by the 104 for a week, Pup,” Price said, directing his fork toward you. 

“You say that, but i bet if you were in my shoes and after doing all that drilling had a bunch of stinking civvy kids tryna touch your tail and their dumb parents tryna ruffle your ears - you’d say something different.”

“I won’t let anyone touch you, Pup. I promise,” Ghost soothed. “We just need to get through the day and then I’ll get us out of there.” 

“And how are you even gonna be in the parade when you can’t show your face?” You asked, throwing up your hands at his balaclava. 

“They’re permitting me a neck gaiter.”

“You allowed to wear a skull one?” Soap asked, his lips curling into a bemused smile

“Unfortunately not, I was told it had to be plain,” Ghost shrugged. 

“Of course you asked,” you said, rollling your eyes but smiling despite everything. 

“Well it’s only down to me asking that got you this replacement gig in the first place,” Ghost reminded you before shunting you onto a spare seat. “Now eat your lunch and stop your whining. If I have to hear anymore complaints I’ll make you wear a muzzle. I’ll find a pink sparkly one with charms on it and all.” 

You folded your ears back at that, mouth gaping at the threat. He wouldn’t dare! Or would he? You looked between him and Price and huffed when they gave nothing away behind their serious expressions. 

Only when you started shovelling food in your mouth did they both start laughing and shaking their heads between each other. It made your cheeks burn, but you kept quiet and busied yourself with the delicious canteen food that you were sure to miss on your return home. It was better to focus on that than earning yourself a telling off for glaring at your superiors over your plate. 

“I’m surprised they let you off with a little parade instead of sacrificing Pup for the week,” Gaz said thoughtfully. “Who’d you have to go asking to get that kind of trade off, LT?”

“Well it wasn’t just the parade, I was supposed to go apologise to the father and do a little grovelling too.” 

“And how’d you worm your way out of that one, ay?” Price asked, already groaning before hearing the answer. 

“Who said I wormed out?”

“You said ‘supposed to’ Ghost.”

“Well you see, Captain - the benefit of never showing my face is that no one really has any way of telling that it’s really me when I ‘reveal’ myself,” Ghost said smoothly, a smile apparent in his voice alone. “Ergo, doesn’t necessarily need to be me that turns up to apologise.”

“Oh, you bastard,” Price chuckled. “I’m not covering for you if they work out what you did.”

“No need, I got a message to say it’s all handled.”

-🐺-

The light was just starting to drain from the land, the orange glow of the sun smattered the ground with withdrawing tendrils of light. They washed across the pale dirt, stroking it with their warmth before retreating somewhere behind the darkness. Slowly and then all at once the sky went from orange to black. 

“I assume you’re excited to go home now that you’re not going back to the kennels,” Rudy said, breaking the easy silence that had fallen between you. 

You nodded an answer, but didn’t say anything back. 

The other hybrid had been relatively quiet since you’d arrived, apart from asking what the news was from Soap and Ghost, he hadn’t said much else. He’d instead made a point of exaggerating just how tired he’d been from the night before, only showing you the hickey that flamed up around his collar bone as he yawned and stretched. 

He’d been sleeping for most of the rest of the journey to the watch point. After being out and actively looking for the target for a few hours however, the two of you had gotten more restless, fidgeting and shifting how you sat every few minutes. 

Still, you kept your eyes across the horizon and your ears pinned forward. You didn’t want to mess up anything else after everything you’d been called out for so much already. You were especially aware of the fact that Ghost and Soap were only a few meters from you both as well. This was the last situation you wanted Rudy baiting you in. 

“You ever been in a parade before?”

“No,” you answered, shifting the leg you were sitting on and flicking your eyes out over the ground. 

“They’re not too bad. The ones here anyway, you do a little showing off and then you get some free food..” 

“Do they make you guys walk on a harness and bark at the men too?” You asked dryly. 

Rudy threw his head back and laughed. The sound caused a small smile to break out on your face and you shook your head at him for the disturbance. Nevertheless the smile stayed on your face while you continued to keep watch. 

“You British hybrids have to put up with a lot, hm?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” you said sourly. 

“I know enough…” Rudy replied, seemingly trailing off as he spoke. 

You looked away from the spot you’d been boring a hole into with your eyes only to glance at Rudy’s face. It took on that serious hard look again, his lips stony and his eyes cast far away. 

“You’ve worked with a lot of us then?”

“A decent amount.”

“Take it you’ve not met anyone half as charming as me, yknow - since you were all grumpy about working with me the first time.” 

He snorted at that.

“None of them have been anything like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You have some life about you, it’s a good thing,” you saw him shrugging in your peripherals. “Most of them are quiet, angsty. Half of them look like they’re glad to die when their superiors send them off just to protect themselves. The other half just seem dead already.”

His words stole anymore words from coming to your lips. You knew exactly what he meant - that used to be you after all. The old you would never have done anything like you’d done on your last mission for any of your previous superiors, would never have let the beast inside you rage. You had to be clear enough to protect yourself. You spited them too much to be willfully suicidal, you’d rather see them die instead of you. 

Now that had all changed. Ghost had only just reprimanded you because you put yourself in harms way, but even still you knew you’d rather die for any of your team than have them go instead. With that thought in mind, your back prickled with a chill that shivered through your whole nervous system. 

“You don’t have to tear yourself apart just to be a good soldier, Pup. I hope being with the 141 for any amount of time has taught you that all that doesn’t even matter. We get to have lives too, you know? Get your job done and keep yourself and your boys alive, fight so that you get to come home and actually live. Find out what makes you happy and do things that you like because there’s so many of us hybrids that are used like bullets and so many humans that are so happy to discard us once we’ve hit our targets. Fuck anyone that tells you you’re disposable. We have just as much right to be here as anyone - remember that.” 

You blinked back at him. A faint buzzing rang through your ears, a shrill little hum that tried to force tears from your eyes while it snatched at your heart. A low growl threatened to loose from your throat, bark at the enemy, fend off those pesky emotions. 

No, he wasn’t attacking you. He was just speaking the truth. 

“Do you wanna take over as my therapist?” You muttered, having to clear the lump from your throat before you could spit even a word out. 

He laughed wryly at that and muttered something under his breath.  “I’m just saying… you could’ve ended up like anyone else you got trained up with, but you didn’t. Don’t waste your new life stuck on what things were like. Make something good out of it.”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hi!!

Can you do a Sam Winchester begging plus size reader to sit on his face. Whatever vibes you want :) Dommy Sam is always a fav but as long as Sam is reassuring and eating reader out, I’m happy :)

Thank you!!

.⋆｡Peaches and Cream｡⋆.

Sam Winchester x plus size reader

Dean made the mistake of leaving you alone with a very soulless version of your best friend who only wants one thing from you

Warnings: soulless!Sam, smut, friends to lovers?, oral (f receiving), mentions of condoms, praise, body worshipping, overstimulation, dom!Sam, almost getting caught, little bit of self-consciousness WC: 1.8k

Minors DNI

a/n: thank you all for being so patient with me, i promise i only have a couple weeks left of uni and i'm gonna come running back with some new fics!

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

His eyes burned into the back of your skull, as they had been for the past 10 minutes. And yet, you refused to look up from the book in front of you, even though you had not turned a page in that same amount of time.  You weren’t a stranger to Sam’s gaze, in fact you used to love it; the way his big puppy dog eyes trailed up your curves whenever he thought you wouldn’t notice never failed to have heat bloom across your cheeks.

But his staring was far different now.

Sam was different now.

You could hear him shift in his seat before the tell-tale sound of his boots against the cheap vinyl as he got closer. You swallowed around the lump in your throat though it did nothing to sooth the fear simmering inside you. 

“You’re not reading.” His warm breath tickled your neck. You shivered and squeezed your eyes shut. You knew what he wanted, and so badly did you wish to give it to him, like you always had but it was so wrong. His soul was gone, the very thing that made Sam Sam but it was still his body, his voice so tantalisingly close.

“Yes I am.” You bit back a whimper as Sam leaned in closer, his large hands planting themselves on the table in front of you, keeping you pinned to the spot. The tip of his nose brushed gently along your ear.

“No.” Suddenly the book was ripped from your hands and thrown across the motel room (something your Sam would never do). “You’re not.”

His lips closed around your earlobe. “Sam.” You cursed Dean in your mind, that man and his need for diner pie no matter how far out of his way he had to go to get it. “We can’t.” Fire pooled between your plump thighs, quickly soaking through your panties. 

He shifted closer, his strong arms now tightly pressed against you. He released your ear with a soft pop. “Can’t or won’t? Because I think we both know just how badly you want me, sweetheart.” You held your breath as Sam’s hands slowly moved from the table to your wide hips.

“Sam.” You tried again but this time he answered you with a deep growl.

“Say my name like that again and I promise that you won’t be walking straight for a week.” A moan escaped your lips before you could even think of stopping it. You could feel Sam’s plump lips curl into a devious smirk. 

“But-“ His grip tightened and all the doubts in your mind vanished.

“But nothing. Dean won’t be back for hours and you need to unwind and I happen to know the perfect way to do that.” 

As a last ditch attempt before your mind completely went fuzzy, you blurted out- “We don’t have condoms.”

His chuckle rumbled through your bones, sending a chill of excitement up your spine. “I’m not gonna fuck you, not today at least. I just want a little taste of this nice,” His right hand slid down the pudge of your stomach and wedged itself between your thighs, cupping you over the thick denim of your jeans, “juicy,” He nuzzled his face against your neck, “cunt.” 

“Be gentle?” You turned your head, encouraging the larger man to meet your gaze. His eyes shone with his victory.

“You want your Sammy don’t you?” He teased. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll give you exactly what you want.” And then he struck. 

His lips moulded perfectly against yours in a kiss long overdue. It was soft, almost sweet but you could feel the way he was holding back, forcing himself to relent to your wishes, even as he cupped your jaw with his other hand, deepening it. 

You whimpered against his lips and he reluctantly pulled away. You barely had a moment to catch your breath before Sam yanked you from your chair and lifted you into his arms. “Sam!” You tried to protest, but he silenced you with a kiss more determined than before. 

His tongue forced its way into your mouth as he strode to his unused bed. Your arms wound around his neck, Sam growling in approval. His knees bumped against the mattress and he fell forwards, catching himself with his right hand before he could crush you. Your pussy squeezed around nothing at the raw strength of the hunter you’d been pining for. 

You grabbed at the front of his flannel as he tugged on the hem of your jeans. Your teeth clacked together and the sound of ripping fabric filled the room. “Eager girl.” Sam groaned against your lips as you still held onto the now destroyed shirt in your grip. 

Your jeans button popped open. “Please Sam.” His long fingers grazed the wet spot on your panties and your hips bucked up, encouraging his touch to go just a little further down. He chuckled cruelly but yet he obeyed. The calloused tips of his fingers pressed into your throbbing clit, making your jaw drop with a silent moan.

He nipped at the frantic pulse along your throat, unbothered by the deep welts he was leaving behind. Your heart skipped a beat as you laid your palms onto his naked chest. “Sam.” His name was barely even a breath. 

“Good girl.” Your ruined panties were pushed to the side as his middle finger traced up your slit, gathering as much of your wetness as he could. “So wet for me. You’ve been waiting so long haven’t you.” He cooed.

You tried to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge, content in teasing you. “Shhh let me play a little longer and then I’ll give you what you want.” His slender hips rolled against your thigh, letting you feel the monstrous bulge of his cock where it was straining against his own jeans.

You squirmed as he finally pressed his thick fingers to your clit, just barely dousing the fire between your legs. “Please.” Your eyes burned with tears of desperation. You needed him like it was the only thing keeping you alive.

Sam tsked and in response, pulled his fingers away. You nearly cried as your relief was ripped away from you. “Now, while I do love your begging, we’re doing this my way. You need to learn.” 

He leaned back onto his heels, his ripped shirt perfectly framing his toned stomach and chest. You couldn’t look away from him, never could you have even dreamed that your best friend was this good-looking. “Jeans. Off.” 

Your hands flew down to your hips, eager to obey. Sam smirked and pulled off the tattered flannel, his eyes remained on you though, burning with lust. Your hands shook as you finally got your pants off. Your panties quickly followed after.

“What a good little slut, listening so prettily. You just want your Sammy to take care of you don’t you.” You nodded desperately.

“Please, wanna be good.” 

He grabbed your wide hips and rolled onto his back, dragging you up the length of his torso until you were straddling his wide shoulders. “Then be good for me and sit on my face.”

“But-“ He shot you a lot from between your legs and dragged you up further so you had no choice but to plant your knees on the mattress next to his head. You caught yourself on the wall behind the headboard as you tried to rock forwards and pull yourself up. 

“Do this for me, sweetheart. Lemme drown in that pussy.” His teeth sunk into the soft fat of your inner thigh. 

“But Sam, I-I don’t want to hurt you. ‘M not exactly small.” 

“Sit. I won’t repeat myself again.” Your knees wobbled but you remained upright, determined to not harm the man beneath you. “Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

His arms wound around your legs and forced you down onto his mouth. “Perfect.” He grumbled into your cunt.

“Sam!” But before you had the chance to even think of prying yourself from him, Sam’s lips sealed around your clit and it took every ounce of self-restraint you had not to court around his head and keep him right there, suckling at you, forever.

Your moans echoed through the cheap motel room, bouncing off the peeling wallpaper and soaking into the old carpeting. You couldn’t help but grind down onto his face, chasing the pleasure he had already denied you once before. Sam groaned in approval from between your legs. His tongue lapped at you, moving with a precision that had you asking yourself why you hadn't relented sooner.

“Are-are you spelling something?” He just winked at you and ducked his head down once more. Your eyebrows scrunched as you tried to concentrate on the fluid movement of his tongue against you though the blinding pleasure made it difficult.

S-A-M-U-E-L He took a breath. W-I-N-C-H-E-S-T-E-R

He was branding you, and that thought sent you catapulting to the precipice of your end. “Sam, Sam please. ‘M so close, please, please.” His right hand released your thigh and quickly slipped underneath his chin, letting his thick fingers finally breach your needy cunt. The knot in your stomach wound impossibly tighter and then just as he crooked his fingers, hitting the delicate bundle of nerves within you, Sam spelled one more word.

M-I-N-E

“Fuck fuck fuck!” You thrashed on top of him, wave after wave of euphoria washing over you, drowning you in it as Sam’s unrelenting ministrations pushed you right into another orgasm just as the first was dying down.

Your hands flew to his silky hair and tried to pry him off of you but he kept going, seemingly determined to make you pass out from the pleasure. “Too much.” Your whole body shook as your nerves lit up like fireworks.

“Oh god-“ Suddenly, the tell-tale rumble of the Impala had both you and the man you were straddling freeze. The car door squeaked and you both looked at each other. 

Sam grabbed your hips and rolled you onto your back before ripping his half-naked body from yours. You threw the covers over yourself and shut your eyes, praying that your heavy breathing wouldn’t be noticed by the other hunter. 

Just as Dean’s footsteps reached the motel room door, Sam had tugged on a new (non-ripped) flannel from his bag. Your eyes slammed shut as the door creaked open and Dean slipped inside.

There was a beat of silence. “She sleeping?” You breathed out a sigh of relief, you couldn’t imagine what he would’ve thought if he realised what was happening between his soulless little brother and you barely moments before.

“Yeah.” Sam responded in a clipped tone, a now regular occurrence with his brother. Dean hummed and you heard the sound of a plastic bag being placed on the kitchen counter.

“I got some food for us. You want any?” You could’ve melted from the genuine concern in his voice but as Sam answered, your stomach churred with embarrassment.

“I already ate.” He smirked as he wiped away the last remnants of your cum from his lips with his thumb.

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[spokantruth]

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ୨୧ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

content: smutty little thought

evp reading: hello my little ghosts some small thought i had a while back that i rewrote and wanted to share cause sub hyunjin has been my brain rot recently ❤︎

warnings: pegging, sub/dom, sub hyunjin x dom reader, praising cause that boy needs it, implied multiple rounds, overstimulated, soft aftercare

————— ୨୧ —————

subby hyunjin who knows you’ve been so busy so he didn’t want to bother you with his needy wants. Trying to deal with it himself but jesus christ… he just can’t get himself to cum

subby hyunjin who calls you around 10 at night knowing you probably just got out of your after work shower. Meekly asking your to come over, over the phone. “please buba… c-can you come over?.. you can even stay the weekend to make it easier!” he tries to help convince you

subby hyunjin who is ecstatic when you happily agree to stay the weekend and tell him your packing you bag now and will be there in 15 minutes. Quickly running upstairs to his room to put on his lotion and rose perfume. He only wants to smell the sweetest. Slipping on his soft pink sweater. the one that compliments his soft and plushy lips. A pair of small matching pink boxers.

subby hyunjin who looks at himself in his full length mirror while smiling brightly at how cute (and ready) he is for you. The same mirror you fucked him in front of the weekend before last. Those memories flooding in and making his cheeks turn pink like his sweater. The tent in his boxers poking out a bit. Making him pull down his sweater a little.

subby hyunjin who hears the doorbell ring and scurries downstairs immediately. Ripping the door open and yanking you inside. Making you drop your bag and laugh. “Hello my jinnie” god that name. That danm name. The name that makes him wanna fall to his knees and beg everytime he hears it. No no he can’t do that just yet though. Too shy to admit why he wants you there.

subby hyunjin who won’t stop clinging to you as you walk around his place. Gently tugging at your tight black t shirt while you walk around the kitchen to pick up a few things and get a glass of water. You’ve been here for 15 minutes and he already can’t handle the fact your hands aren’t all over him.

subby hyunjin who hugs you from behind tightly, hiding his face in your neck as he speaks. “ i need you buba… please i couldn’t do it on my own.. it hurts so bad” He whispers. His plush lips brushing against your neck lightly. And just like that, the switch flipped in your brain. Smirking and tugging him in front of you. “oh?… my jinnie need my help”

subby hyunjin who’s only seconds later bent over the island in his kitchen, Boxers pooled down at his feet. Glittery pink strap buried deep inside him. You, leaning over him with your sweats tugged down just enough for your strap to poke out. The strap that you wore over cause you knew why he wanted you over just by the tone in his voice. One hand reached over to tangle with his and your other hand holding his pretty waist tightly. “Look at you jinnie~ So well behaved and taking it . so. well” you say while punctuating each word with a strong thrust to his sweet spot.

subby hyunjin who’s drooling and hiccuping by the time he’s now sprawled out on his bed. Satin black sheets making his pretty self pop more. Overstimulated from two rounds already. Your own clothes stripped already and piled on the floor.

subby hyunjin who can’t help but to blabber while unable to think straight. “fuck fuck fuck~ Don’t stop!” “thank you baby thank you thank you” “so full mmmm~” Gasps at the end of each sentence.

subby hyunjin who is completely out of breath by the end of you twos love time. His naked body curled up into your naked body, tangled in his satin sheets. Both bodies littered in red bite marks, purple and pink splotches, and red stripes. His brain still fuzzy but now not with lust but with love. Your sweet voice whispering praises in his ear and one hand massaging his sore thigh and the other gently tracing shapes along his back. “You did so well baby” “oh my sweet jinnie you were such a good boy” “I love you my masterpiece”

subby hyunjin who falls asleep in your arms knowing he’s well taken care of and has the ability to return the favor to you in the morning. A round 4?

[bwabys-scenarios]

Kurapika noticing how well you get along with Gon and Killua, and thinking you’d be the perfect mom. He wonders how you’d be with your OWN kids, and oh oops here comes the baby fever.

warning: Kurapika breeds you in a changing room because he’s needy and couldn’t wait 😭🙏

It was all over for you when Killua accidentally called you mom when trying to get your attention.

Every single member of the group looked up, causing the poor kid to stammer and apologize. Kurapika glanced between you and the two young boys, his hand immediately reaching for yours.

“Killua, it’s okay! No need to be embarrassed. You two are pretty much my kiddos anyways.”

You pat the twos heads affectionately, Kurapika watching with soft eyes. He already knew he had a crush on you, but now he knew he was in love.

It didn’t take long for him to imagine you pregnant, breasts big and heavy with milk and tummy nice and full of his child. His cheeks flush, his pants tightening uncomfortably.

He knew you wanted children, a fact you’d shared with him over drinks a few months ago. All he needed to do was put a ring on that pretty little finger and make you his in every way… but he didn’t know if he could wait that long.

“(Name).”

The man pulled you away from the table, your three friends complaints unheard by the blonde Kurta.

“Kurapika, sweetheart, where are we going?”

Oh god, his heart thumped against his chest, all the blood rushing to his dick. Why did you use such cute pet names with everyone? Didn’t you know how much his heart ached for you to only call him those sweet names?

“(Name), I…”

He pulled you into the woman’s changing room of a random store, his lips crashing into yours. His hands were already roaming to the waistband of your pants, pushing them and your panties down in one go.

“I really need you.”

You grab his hands, your face burning from his sudden neediness. Kurapika was quick to lift your leg up over his shoulder and press his bulge against your pussy, hissing at the friction.

“K-Kurapika! What-“ you could barely process what was happening, your head fuzzy. He shushed you with another kiss, his tongue pressing against your teeth.

You let his tongue slip into your mouth, gripping the fabric of his shirt to steady yourself.

“I… I want to be inside you okay? I gotta…”

He was barely able to speak as he pulled the waistband of his boxers down, his cook springing forward and resting against your tummy. You whined out, your hips pushing into his.

“O-okay… just put it in already.”

You didn’t need to say it twice, the man pushing into you as he panted, his eyes half lidded as they stared into yours.

He almost cums immediately once he’s fully inside you, having to take a minute to grip your hips and calm himself. You feel so good, so much better than he could have ever imagined. And imagined he did, almost every night.

“Gonna… gonna move now okay?”

You nod, leaning your head on his shoulder. He’s slow and gentle at first, cooing sweetly into your ear. “So good… so wet all for me.”

His thrusts start to get faster, his coos turning into growls and his grip on your hips tightening until you’re sure they’re be bruised tomorrow.

“Kurapika…” you whine out, the man silencing you yet again with another kiss. He slips his hand between your legs, rubbing circles into your clit.

“Shh, shh… don’t want anyone to hear you, right? Gotta cum inside, gotta get you pregnant, ok?”

He’s so vulgar, pounding your pussy and saying he’s going to get you pregnant. How could you not whimper and whine when he’s hitting all the right spots and making you cream on his cock.

When he cums inside you, his tongue is in your mouth and hands on your hair, the feeling of being filled up making you cum too.

You try to move, wanting to put your clothes back on but he keeps you there.

“Shh, stay still. Gotta make sure none of my cum gets out, okay?”

He keeps you plugged with his cock for another 10 minutes before he pulls and and quickly pulls up your panties to keep you from leaking too much.

“Good… we’ll go again when we get home, okay? As many times as needed until you’re pregnant.”

You can’t really disagree when he’s clinging onto you so cutely, nipping and kissing at your neck. You can tell he wants to go again now, but he holds himself back and carries you to the restroom so he can get you all cleaned up.

[spikershoyo]

Daddy’s Boy | oscar piastri x mark webber | smut | minors DNI!

warnings, tags, and notes: smut, dark!!!, older man x younger man, daddy issues, tinge of angst (because I can), Oscar can be seen as babied here but he’s just sad, very much inspired by chris piastri leaving Oscar in England to focus on his family (if that ain’t a bit fucked up then idk), slight inspection of rim, dad kink, one (1) use of “who’s your daddy?” I know cringe, multiple use of “dad” in a sexual setting, crying, hope you all enjoy! <3 (also posted on my AO3 livvyvyviviw4k3)

Oscar is unsure of the time, his eyes fluttering open as his face lies against the pillows. There must be a mark over his cheek, sleeping for what felt like the whole day. 

He doesn’t bother in checking the time, feeling a familiar ache start to throb around his hips and back. If he bothered to get up and check, he’d see the soft purple bruises on his hips, the red marks that have faded into a soft burn all over his ass cheeks. 

He knows Mark is in the apartment, he can hear the faint talking of him on the phone, the clinking of the the ceramic mug where his almost lukewarm coffee gets left around, his steps around the house, idly walking through every room. 

So he’s not worried about getting caught as he starts pushing his hips against the bed, grinding like a desperate bunny. He lets out a soft sigh, half-asleep as he arches his back. 

Oscar just needed to be pressed into the mattress, get coddled and kissed and hit while getting told how good he was. 

He nuzzles closer into the pillows, mouthing over the warm fabric and pushing a bit more desperately against the mattress, whining lowly. He feels fuzzy all over, detached from his body. One hand squeezes between his chest and the bed, pressing against his aching cock. 

A soft gasp escapes his lips, hips lifting off the bed as he arches up, ass in the air like there was someone there to push back against him. 

“Fuck, please, please.” He moans softly, voice croaking with sleep as presses the tips of his fingers to the underside of his cock, caressing there gently. 

Oscar suddenly jolts when the bedroom door opens, and Mark walks in casually. At least he’s not on the phone anymore. 

He quickly notices Oscar’s stillness, focused blue eyes raking over Oscar’s covered body. He steps over to the bed, sitting by the edge. 

Oscar hums as he feels Mark’s hand rest on his back, soothing and rubbing over his spine. “Morning, love.” Oscar groans softly, eyes finally fluttering open to look up at his manager. 

The room seemed brighter, the blinds drawn back a bit more. It wasn’t too early, maybe around 10 or 11. He chases after Mark’s touch, begging for it silently. 

“What is it?” Mark muses, smiling down at his precious boy. Oscar attempts to turn over onto his back, only managing to lie on his side. Oscar blinks up at Mark, mind still catching up with his mouth. “Please, Mark.” He sighs. 

But he seemed displeased, brows furrowing. “Please, who?” The question hangs over Oscar, waiting, expectant. Oscar moves in closer, wanting Mark to pull him onto his lap and kiss him. 

“Please, dad.” He whispers, cheeks pink and hot. 

This satisfies Mark, smiling again and pulling the covers off of Oscar. He was dressed, some black boxers and what seemed to be an old Red Bull shirt that used to belong to Mark. “What can dad do for you?” Mark asks softly, hands curling around Oscar’s hips, helping him sit up and lie against his chest like a ragdoll. 

Oscar buries his face into Mark’s neck, feeling like he might fall asleep right there, inhaling the masculine cologne Mark puts on every morning. Something nautical, strong, and musky. Oscar lets him slot a thigh between his legs, Mark’s rough fingers dipping under the band of his boxers. 

“Want more.” The younger boy slurs, nose pressed under Mark’s ear. “More? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?” The words are crude and land like cold water over Oscar, being made aware of his insatiability. 

But the guilt doesn’t last long, his craving winning over everything else. “Dad, please. Want more.” Oscar moans, pushing his hips against Mark’s thigh. 

And who was Mark to deny him? 

So he undresses him, pulls the covers back completely, and has Oscar lying on his back, staring up at him with expectant eyes. 

Mark is slow, unbuckling his belt, letting Oscar drool and reach out just to swat his hands away. “Good boys wait.” His voice is gruff, but he’s being gentle with him. 

Oscar whines, throwing an elbow over his eyes, feeling need and shame spread all over his cheeks, his face hot and tender to the touch. He hears his pants drop, then the soft rustle of a shirt coming off, and soon, the bed dipping. 

And everything becomes warm again when Mark touches him, the contrast in skin tones. “On your stomach.” Mark hums, patting Oscar’s hip. And he follows, turning onto his stomach and presenting his ass up like it was on a silver platter. 

Mark’s hands grope and squeeze, and Oscar’s legs are being pulled apart. “You didn’t touch here, right, love?” Mark asks, hands spreading him apart, eyes focused on Oscar’s hole, remembering how he fucked it open until the younger boy was crying from overstimulation. 

“No, dad.” Oscar hums, letting his chest fall against the bed, face back to being pressed into the pillow. “Good boy.” Mark reaches over and ruffles Oscar’s hair, making him smile lazily, eyes fluttering open and closed at times.

Even when Mark pulls away for a moment, Oscar whines from the lack of touch, only content when he comes back, hands soothing over his skin. Mark presses a kiss low on his hip, lips traveling down to his right cheek, whispering soft praise that makes Oscar’s lips quiver. 

He uncaps the lube, pouring some over his rim and then on his fingers, slowly pushing two fingers into Oscar. 

The young Aussie gasps, his voice broken, hips bucking against it. Mark frowns and slaps his ass, making him yelp. “Don’t. I’m not in the mood for bratiness.” 

Oscar whines and nods. “Sorry, dad.” He whispers. Mark hums and kisses over the top of his spine, a soft it’s okay. Markadds another finger to help Oscar loosen up, making him arch into it. 

He can tell that he’s holding back on fucking himself on Mark’s fingers, but he’s being very good. “Let’s get you filled up,” Mark smirks, eyes set on how Oscar melts into his touch, how easy he is for him. 

There’s a beat of silence, one where Mark takes the time to drape himself over Oscar’s back, kissing over his temple, turning his head to make him look. “You okay? We can stop.” He asks, making sure he isn’t reading the situation wrong. 

Oscar’s eyes are glazed over, the flush spreading down to his chest, lips parted as he breathes heavily. He nods, assuring, smiling. “Yeah, please.” He whispers. It earns him a kiss, then another. 

When Mark nods and lets his hand drag down his back, Oscar shudders, eyes blinking slowly. He feels even more hazy as Mark intentionally ignores his flushed cock, red and leaking. But he doesn’t dare to mention it, letting Mark take the lead. 

The first push in is tender, then the feeling of soreness settles into his bones. He finds it achingly delicious, like pushing at a bruise until it hurts, and then adding more pressure on it. 

Oscar moans softly as Mark thrusts steadily, pushing against him tightly. One hand grips his left shoulder, the other firm on his hip, thrusting harshly and keeping a brutal pace. 

“Fuck, dad, please.” Oscar winces, eyes rolling into the back of his head, needing more and needing less simultaneously. “What is it?” 

“More! Please, please, more!” He sobs, head falling forward, hanging between his shoulders as sweat starts to form on his hairline, a blissed out smile on his lips. Oscar can feel his arms almost give out, Mark’s grip on his shoulder not enough to keep him up. Mark fucks into him ruthlessly, buried to the hilt in Oscar to the point that it made loud sounds of skin slapping against skin. 

“Who’s your fucking daddy? Mhm?” Mark’s words echo in Oscar’s somewhat empty brain, making something twinge painfully inside him. “I’m speaking to you.” He pushes, the hand on his hip slapping at his ass again, this time harder. 

Oscar huffs, trying to keep the same energy as Mark keeps fucking into it. He tries to hyper-focus on the pleasure, moaning softly, but he knows he has to answer Mark. “Y-you, fuck, you, dad.” He stutters, arching more into it. “Can you please touch my cock, dad?” Oscar manages to get out before a sob rips from his throat. 

And while Mark is overcome with a wave of arousal, Oscar’s dirty words making his head spin, he does feel a bit concerned at the sudden outburst. But even when he dares to slow down, Oscar shakes his head violently. “No! Keep going, please!” He gasps, a few tears running down his pink cheeks. 

“Oscar-“ “Please, dad? Want you to fuck me harder, please.” He whimpers, looking over his shoulder as best as he can, mouth open as he pants. There’s a lingering sadness in his eyes, but Mark doesn’t stop, not with that pretty face begging him not to. 

He pushes Oscar’s face into the pillows, getting more leverage. His cock throbs in his tight hole, breath stuttering as Oscar clenches. “Fuck!” He groans, Oscar’s voice muffled, tears and drool staining the fabric. 

Mark dares to reach round him and play with his hard cock, giving into all the wishes Oscar had asked of him. Another sob, this time more pleasurable, shocks itself out of Oscar’s mouth. 

Mark smiles and jerks him off. “There’s my good boy. Does that feel good? You like it when ad makes you feel good?” Oscar nods, greedily swallowing up all the praise. “Yeah, I know. Only I can make you feel like this.” 

Oscar whines, pushing back against Mark when he reaches that spongy spot that makes his mind mush. “More, more, more.” Oscar slurs, biting his lip, legs shaking a bit. 

“More? Yeah? Daddy never paid that much attention to his baby boy?” Mark rants on, knowing which bruises to press on. Oscar gulps, burying his face away. 

It hurt, yeah. It hurt like hell. But he loved it, knew there was something weird about liking it. But as long as Mark kissed him and told him he loved him, it was okay to hurt for a little while. 

Oscar sniffles, back arching as Mark passes his thumb over his sensitive tip. “That’s why you’re a bit fucked up, mhm? Like it when you get to call me dad?” Mark goes on, cock brutally thrusting into Oscar. 

When he squeezes gently around his dick, Oscar gasps and spills into Mark’s hand, eyes blurring with tears and pleasure, brain fog clouding his mind like no other. “Dad! Oh, fuck!” He whimpers, letting Mark abuse his hole until his drool is pooling on the pillow, dripping down his chin like a dirty dog. 

“Yeah, baby. Call me dad, fuck, just like that.” Mark groans as he spills into Oscar, pulling out to watch it drip out of his spasming hole. 

Mark gets off the bed, leaving Oscar limp and sniffling softly into his pillow. When he comes back, he kisses right over Oscar’s taint, cleaning him up lovingly. He soothes him gently, hands caressing over his skin, massaging where he must be sore. Oscar appreciates it, but he’s a bit too wrecked at the moment to say anything. 

He sits by his head, lifting Oscar by his hair as gently as he can, spit connecting from his chin to the pillow, eyes shedding tears silently, cheeks hot and pink. Mark coos softly, cleaning the spit from his pretty face, then pulling the boy to his chest, kissing the top of his head. 

Mark shushes his little sobs and soft sniffles. 

“Dad’s got you.”

[swarmishstrangers]

Hi hello can I ask for Folly X depressed/mentally unwell reader pretty please if youre okay with doing it? I absolutely love your Folly HCs

I'm gonna be so real with you anon, I think out of all of the characters in Regretevator, Folly is probably one of THE worst to go to in terms of being low mentally UEGFHSGWHDG. She is. Not nice lmao. Can even be seen with characters that show weakness (in her eyes), Pilby being one that comes to mind where she'll actively use their saddened state in order to demean and bring them lower. Kicking them while they're down essentially. BUT I persume you're asking this in a way where Folly is at a point she cares about you, so what I'll do is go with that when writing this. Enjoy!!

☁︎ Folly describes herself as not stupid..but instead, someone out of touch. It's hard for her now to truly grasp emotions in a way where she can be empathetic or caring for them other than when they benefit her. Low empathy is what Folly is, not that she's completely devoid, but struggles to maybe connect with you in a way where she'd know what to do.

☁︎ Negative emotions are the very thing she feeds off of, so it's really easy for her to *tell* somethings up, that you're feeling, "How you mortals say? Feeling blue?" She's not really delicate and isn't one to tiptoe around what she wants to say..she lost her gentle way of going about things when she became what she is.

☁︎ Gonna be real, she's very shit at comfort. She doesn't understand why you'd go to her (because she's aware she's not the best option), post Cleave, she struggles to truly understand the ways of comfort because she's honestly forgotten what it even looks like..it's been so long. Sure she's maybe gotten it when she was younger..when she was Dreamer. But trying to recall those times when wanting to apply them to comfort you, here, in the present, it's hazy and fuzzy and she doesn't remember it much.

☁︎ When you seek physical comfort or verbal comfort and assurance, it's very..awkward. As eloquently as she speaks, still retains her bluntness. It's bothers her that she even cares about trying to soften her words..foolish she thinks. But she tries her best, even if it's strained and she struggles to feel what you're feeling and put that into words. Physical comfort is something she's awkward with too. She's very large and it's hard to just..hug you without accidentally crushing you if she were to miscalculate her strength. She'll usually oblige if you're in private and you push your face against her sweater. She thinks you look sad and pathetic. But twist her leg, won't you? She'll bring a hand down, acting as a sort of hug and maybe she'll try and pat your back or something. She feels weird when doing so.

☁︎ "Er...there..there...?" She'd say, strained, trying to think of things to say that would typically be comforting or that she's seen, patting your back as you sniffle and cry. You'd pull away, wiping your tears. "You s-suck at this." Her eye would narrow at you, her expression hard to tell otherwise. "Hmph.." She'd silently agree with you.

☁︎ Okay, so, she's not good with her words, keeping them soft, maybe a 4-5 out of 10 on the physical comfort scale, and is a little out of touch when it comes with dealing with emotions in a way that she just doesn't purely feed off of for her own gain...so what can she do? Well..she's good at listening.

☁︎ Folly can stay, can give you her attention (maybe staring a bit too hard), can lend you a metaphorical ear. She's good at that. She'll listen to you vent, listen to the amount of weight is on your shoulders, the world pressing down on you, how you feel like you're drowning and sometimes it's hard to resurface. And it's hard..and they're feelings she'll hear you describe. And quietly, she'll understand. She understands these emotions more than most think she's capable of. And while she can offer much in terms of her verbal comfort or great at offering any solutions (cause this is the woman who copes with the pain she goes through by scaring people out of their wits and feast on their fears) She'll listen.

[listentothelittlebird]

so I have been avidly following the lovely dbhc au that @shepscapades has made and I have made a little drabble fanfic of Doc and Xisuma because I feel very normal about them :)

setting: hermitcraft season 10, while Doc is in skyblock jail

word count: 1361

-

Doc is grumbling to himself, ramming his fist into the newly-sprouted tree with not an insignificant amount of prejudice, when he hears the distinct whistling of fireworks crescendoing towards him.

“Have you come to watch me punch wood like an imbecile?” Doc snarks, expecting to hear Scar’s fumbling denials, or Cleo’s cackling assent.

“That wasn’t the plan, no.” The quietly amused voice is far from his first prediction. An oversight on his part, really.

[Vocal Recognition: Xisumavoid.]

“Xisuma!” Doc’s next punch misses the trunk of the cherry blossom tree, glancing off the side and chipping off the bark instead. He blinks away the vocal recognition pop-up, glancing behind him just to check it really is him and not Tango with a goat horn. “Hey, man!”

“Hey! You’ve been busy.” Xisuma’s boots scuff against the cobblestone as he inspects the progress of his miserable sky island. A shulker box thunks onto the stone, freeing his hands up to brush against the cherry wood planks.

“Hardly anything else to do besides work.” Doc throws the words over his shoulder as he continues to gather his cherry wood, not one to leave a project half-done. 

His visitor is content to hum and haw at whatever he finds as Doc works away. It has only been a few days, but the one-sided commentary is surprisingly comforting. After all, no touching the ground means no redstone, which also means no time in the lab. The thought has Doc speaking up, slipping between Xisuma’s quips.

“It’s not been too busy, yeah?” Doc clambers onto the tree as he plucks off the highest branches. He pauses to flick open a calendar overlay, skimming the dates. “Nobody’s scheduled for maintenance checks until next month.” 

“It’s been alright.” The fuzzy wolf-shaped wool mask pops into view as Xisuma emerges from Doc’s pink abode. “Been a bit too quiet, even. It’s weird not having you around.”

Doc snorts to hide the way his thirium pump hiccups at the words. Logically, he knows the sound is far too soft for Xisuma to hear. Having emotions, Doc has found, is hardly ever logical.

“So you came over ‘cause you missed me?” The words are out before Doc can even try to edit the response. It instills in him the same kind of floundering exasperation he feels when trying to recall a comms message already seen by everyone.

“Well.” When Xisuma ducks his head, one ear of the knitted wolf flops to the side. “I mean. I suppose so.”

[Emotion Identified: Shyness.]

“But I did come with an agenda!” Xisuma reaches for the shulker behind him, pulling out a mobile scanner from the lab.

“You’re right about having no maintenance checks on the schedule,” Xisuma says, waving around the scanner. “With you out here roughing it out, though, I figured I should check on you.”

“Ah.” Doc chuckles, ignores his cooling vents spinning faster. “I see.”

“Well, don’t keep me waiting! You look about done with your tree.” 

“I am, I think.” Doc squints through the already-thinning leaves, nodding when he finds no branches left. “Alright, one moment.”

Dismantling the remains of the trunk takes only a few seconds. Doc gathers the wood and plonks them into the chest in his shabby house, with Xisuma trailing behind. 

With two people inside, it only reminds Doc how small the shelter is. Turning around after closing his chest puts him directly in Xisuma’s space.

“So, uh.” Doc shifts back, as much as he can. He ends up plopping down on the edge of his bed, which, well. “Go ahead, then.” 

A check-up does not require much space, really. Doc has done maintenance with the hermits in caves, in redstone farms, in underwater bases and nether bases. This is just the first time Doc himself has been examined outside of the yawning expanse of their labs. The change in routine leaves him uncertain, like recalibrating on angled terrain. 

The ease that Xisuma slips into the motions does well to settle Doc’s stress, however mild. The mobile scanner takes a while to gather results, so Doc answers Xisuma’s laundry list of questions. The list of questions is one curated by both Doc and Xisuma. Most of it is data, which Doc rattles off easily from the numbers that he pulls up in the corner of his vision.

The mobile scanner beeps cheerfully just as they reach the end of the lengthy questionnaire.

“Clean bill of health.” Xisuma shows Doc the display, which focuses less on internal processes and more on external damage or abnormalities. “Although, your average temperature is a bit lower than your usual.”

Doc shrugs. “It’s the altitude, man. Going from spending significant amounts of my time in the deserts and swamps to this is quite the change. Not to mention the wind chill.” 

As if to prove his point, a gust hits the shelter hard enough to make the planks rattle and creak. With no door, the icy breeze rushes in quickly. He tucks his metal arm into his lab coat with a sigh, the exposed components always prone to freezing the fastest.

“It’s not that bad,” Doc states flippantly, knowing without looking that Xisuma is taking in his every move. “I’m working most of the time, which keeps me warm. Plus I have my lava pool to sit beside when I need to warm up.”

“If you say so.” Xisuma shifts, leaning against his crafting bench. “The moment you start to experience temperature glitches, though, call this off. The rest will understand.”

“I know, I know.” This is all in good fun, when it comes down to it. He plays along for his own amusement. “I’ll be fine, Xisuma. I know how to take care of myself.”

“That you do.” Xisuma nods, then, with an “ah” of realisation, pulls his wolf mask off his helmet. 

“Here!” It only takes a step for Xisuma to be back in Doc’s space, pulling the wool over Doc’s head before he can react. 

“Uhm.” The mask is large enough that it goes over his horns easily, fitting loosely around his face. He has to lift and adjust it slightly to get his eyes back through the openings. “What?”

“To keep you warm!” Xisuma draws back again, settling against the crafting bench and tapping his heel against its side. “I mean, even over my helmet, it sure retains the heat. I know it doesn’t quite help with your metal arm, but it’ll at least warm up your horns and face.”

Doc does feel warmer, in fact. Though that is not necessarily correlated with the wool mask itself, and more the action of gifting it to him.

“But it’s your mask,” Doc replies, a flimsy rebuttal. “For your Woolves of Wool Street.”

“I have spares,” Xisuma chimes, eyes squinting happily through his helmet. “I’m sure the others won’t mind if you’re wearing it. Take it as a souvenir, of sorts.”

“Right.” Doc reaches a hand up to the wool. The material is soft, slightly worn from use. It smells a bit like Xisuma’s armour, the polish that he uses to clean it at the end of the day. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Doc.” 

Xisuma’s communicator chimes. A quick look has Xisuma turning back to Doc with an apologetic sigh. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. I’ll come back soon, though, if you don’t mind?”

“Come back anytime,” Doc replies. He tries to reel it towards comedy with a gesture to his surroundings, his meager belongings. “You won’t be interrupting anything.”

The dry quip draws out a laugh from Xisuma, even as he gathers his shulker and activates his elytra.

“See you, Doc!” Xisuma waves from the edge of the cobblestone, then nosedives away, a rocket propelling him rapidly out of sight. 

Doc takes a moment to watch the clouds, then laughs at himself. Did he not poke fun at Tango last season, when he stared longingly at the portal Jimmy left the server with? Now look at him.  

He draws a hand up to the wolf mask, rubbing the soft knitting between his fingers, and decides that Tango absolutely cannot see him wearing this.

He can keep it on for now, though.

[juniper-sunny]

The Art in the Heart* - Chapter 22 (End)

Silco is about to give you everything you've ever wanted...

Happy Ending AU | Silco x Reader | Young!Silco | F!Reader | No [Y/N] | Slow Burn | Romance | Smut | Fluff | Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Fix-It || NSFW | P in V Sex, Breeding Kink | WC: 4.02k

beta reader: @silcoitus <3!

ao3 || Masterlist || Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 || Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21

───────────────── ●◉◎◈◎◉● ─────────────────

Several Years Later

Powder and her friend Ekko always insist that they don’t need to be escorted to Piltover. They’re teenagers now, old enough to navigate the Undercity on their own, both smart and strong enough to take care of themselves. It doesn’t hurt that they’ve become great fighters under Vi’s tutelage, and Vi herself would bring hell down on anyone who tried to hurt her loved ones. But you still don’t like the idea of them walking alone through the Lanes, even if the Undercity has become a much safer place. You override their protests with the simple fact that they’ll be safer with adult chaperones.

Especially if one of them is the newly minted Councilor of the Undercity.

Your partner, Silco.

The teenagers wave goodbye to you and Silco as they dash into Midtown Piltover, expertly dodging disgruntled passerby in their rush to get to class. Powder’s bright blue hair stands out defiantly against the darker, more somber cobalt rooftops of Topside, a promise to her former oppressors that her spirit will never be broken by them. Your heart aches with nostalgia as you sigh, your hand rising unconsciously to your chest to rub your sternum. Vividly remembering when they were still small enough to climb up your legs like monkeys, asking for candy with wide eyes and innocent grins. 

Silco turns to look at you with a soft smile, eyes crinkling in amusement. “Need I remind you we’re having dinner with them tonight?”

“I know,” you sigh heavily. “They just grow up so fast, you know?”

He nods in understanding as he offers you his elbow. You slip your hand around it as he leads you towards Piltover Bridge. Out of the corner of your eye, you admire his striking, carved profile against the clear skies. His hair is still long on the top of his head, combed back in a neat crest that he styles with gel every morning. You miss his old hairstyle sometimes, but his undercut is so dashing. It’s fun to rub him behind his ears, as you enjoy the fuzziness of his hair shorn close to his skin. Gray has seeped into the hair around his temples, along with a wide, dandy streak above his left eye. Age and stress have begun etching long lines in his face, but they only make him more handsome and distinguished than ever. 

“Shall we pay them a visit at the Academy?” he asks. 

“No, it’s fine. I asked Viktor to meet up with them at lunch. He’ll look out for them,” you say, more as a reminder to yourself than to Silco. 

You don’t talk about how worried you are for the teenagers; the coursework will be easy for them, but you hope they won’t be bullied at the Academy. Even though Piltover has officially recognized the Undercity as an independent nation, Topside’s bigotry towards Zaun still persists. It’s not going to disappear in your generation, or Powder’s, or maybe even the generation after. New policies have been implemented to make education more accessible to Zaunite youth, but the Academy’s gates might as well be shark’s jaws, considering how Powder and Ekko will be rubbing shoulders with Piltover’s most sheltered and narrow-minded. There’s only so much protection that anti-bullying rules can offer. 

“They’re strong. They’re more than capable of holding their own,” Silco reassures you, as if he could read your mind. “The Topsiders should be grateful to count Powder and Ekko among their peers.”

He comes to a stop in the middle of the bridge, and you let go of him as he leans on the railing. His gaze towards the Undercity is serene, a gentle smile still lingering on his face. In his youth, his passion for the Nation of Zaun roared like a fiery inferno. Now, over a decade later, he nurtures it like a lit hearth, with careful and persistent attention so it doesn’t burn out when there’s still so much work to do. 

“I know their parents have thanked you already but… thank you, Silco,” you tell him. You fold your arms as you lean on the railing, the metal cool and smooth against your elbows. “Powder and Ekko wouldn’t have gotten in without your help.”

“It was a simple matter of opportunity. I merely opened the doors; it was the children who walked through them,” he says. “The Topsiders have denied us for too long. It’s about time we seized it all for ourselves.” 

His grip tightens around the railing, the leather of his gloves stretching around his knuckles. Even though Piltover is finally being held accountable for their mistreatment of the Undercity, you doubt that Silco’s anger will ever fade away. He’s certainly not going to forgive them just because they gave him a seat at the table. You can’t imagine how hard it must have been for him these past few months as a Councilor, holding his temper around his colleagues as they flaunted their so-called generosity. If you were in his shoes, you would probably shout at the other Councilors every day.   

Just as you brace yourself for another monologue, Silco abruptly lets go of the handrail and extends his hand out to you. 

“It’s too beautiful a day to speak anymore of Topside,” he says airily, his smile widening. It never fails to warm your heart even after all these years together. “I made reservations for lunch. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Oh! Great,” you say, pleasantly surprised. You take his hand, squeezing it as you resume your stroll into the Undercity. “You’ll have to let me treat you next time.”

“Whatever on earth for?” he asks, curious. 

“Are you kidding me?” You come to a halt, sweeping your hand at the streets before you. 

Silco tilts his head quizzically at you as you savor the weather. Just a few years ago, the fissure folk were still choking on smog and vapors, forced to go aboveground if they wanted to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. But today is a beautiful spring day, not too cool and not too warm, a gentle breeze tickling the hem of your skirt and rolling through the scattered clouds and the baby-blue sky. You can’t help but feel a swell of pride when you spot a small garden filled with delicate, yellow flowers, its large petals reaching for the sky; it’s a special hybrid cultivated by young Zaunite scientists that feeds off the fissure gasses. Combined with Silco’s stricter anti-pollution regulations, these efforts have immensely improved living conditions in the underground. 

And the passerby are happy—smiling freely at each other; walking at a slow, relaxed pace; and calling out enthusiastically to their Councilor, greeting him as an old friend. Rowdy children run through the streets, shrieking mischievously, the first generation to have the privilege of growing up in an independent Undercity. 

“If it weren’t for you and the rest of the Children, we’d still be living like gutter rats. We get to live in the Nation of Zaun now. That’s because of your dream—your vision,” you point out.  

“And yet, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have you,” Silco says smoothly without dropping a beat. “None of this would have come to pass without your aid.” 

“I didn’t do anything!” you protest.

“Few others could match your dedication to the cause. If there were more like you, the underground would have seized independence a long time ago.” 

“That’s not true—”

“The Nation of Zaun needed the whole of the underground to unite as one. You took on more than your fair share of the labor.” He steps closer to you, his arms sliding around your waist. Your hands automatically rise to his chest, your fingers tracing the sharp point of his wide collar. 

“...Maybe,” you concede, not because he’s right, but because you don’t feel like arguing with him. Especially when he’s holding you in his arms. 

“It’s true, my lovely,” he says warmly. He plants a soft kiss on your forehead. 

You stand on tiptoe to peck his cheek before pulling away. He continues smiling at you as you take his hand again. 

“So you won’t mind if I pick dessert, then? Since I’ve done so much for the Nation of Zaun,” you say cheerfully. 

“Of course.” 

“Where’d you make reservations, anyway?” 

“They won’t be expecting us for another hour,” he says. “I thought we could visit the mural in the meantime; I’m rather nostalgic for it.”

“Sure!” You slip your hand around his elbow again, squeezing it affectionately as you both walk off. 

It’s a short, leisurely stroll to the mural. You try to make casual conversation with Silco, but you’re frequently interrupted by fellow Zaunites who greet him as they pass by. In his short tenure as Councilor, your partner has developed an automatic reflex for greeting his constituents politely; paired with his impeccable memory for names and faces, he has no problem stopping to make small talk with them. You chime in whenever you can, conscientious of your role as his long-term partner. You’re determined to show your fellow trenchers that you care about them too. 

After countless stops and starts, you finally arrive at the mural. Silco comes to an abrupt halt, his eyes darting from window to window. You watch him curiously as he cranes his neck to scrutinize the other buildings instead of the artwork. Your hand is pressed tightly against his body as his arm tenses underneath his sleeve. 

“Good afternoon, milady,” you address the mural with excessive pompousness, a deliberately poor imitation of Piltie gentry. You step away from Silco to bow exaggeratedly at your painting. “I do believe an expression of gratitude is in order for your services rendered.”

Silco’s gaze snaps towards you as he raises a bemused eyebrow.

“We never would’ve met if it weren’t for her,” you laugh, speaking normally now. “If she were a real person, I’d owe her everything.”

“What a curious sentiment,” Silco muses. “And yet I can’t bring myself to disagree with it.”

You blow a cheeky kiss at the painted woman. If you didn’t know any better, you could believe that she’s winking back at you, given the low angle you’re viewing her from. The mural has received several refresher coats of paint in the past few years, but the memory still feels more vibrant than its physical presence in front of you. 

Before you can lose yourself in nostalgia, you turn to Silco. You had hoped that your joke would gently bring him back to earth and remind him that you’re his partner, always ready to listen to him whenever he needs to talk. It seems to have done the trick, as he stares unblinkingly at you now and clears his throat. 

“I’d like to visit our rooftop, if you’re amenable,” he says casually, but your eyes are drawn to the twitch in his jaw as he bites his cheek. He extends his hand out to you again, his eyes boring into you with quiet determination. “I have something I’d like to show you.” 

You can’t help but smile at the phrase “our rooftop”. Neither of you own real estate in the area, but it still feels right to claim the spot as yours and Silco’s. “Only if you tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I will,” he promises. He steps closer to you now, hand still reaching for you in earnest. 

The leather of his glove is warm as you take his hand. Silco leads you to a nearby fire escape, the ladder already lowered to the ground. He ascends first and waits patiently for you to follow. When he offers you his hand again, you take it, squeezing it reassuringly as he leads you up the stairs in silence. 

After climbing the ledge, you can’t help but turn away from Silco to appreciate the vista, as it’s more beautiful than you remember: Topside in the distance, all pointed marble and gold, matching the bright sun and puffy clouds. The sky and river divided by a long, elegant bridge of polished steel. Zaun’s colorful rooftops look so small from this height, a scattering of rainbow confetti on the ground. 

You’ve wished for Zaun to become free and independent your whole life. A decade ago, that hope felt like a delusion, a drunken wish made by insane trenchers who spent too much time with their heads in the clouds when they should have been looking at the ground. Now, looking out at the two cities, you’re filled with a wordless, irrepressible joy. It’s hard to believe you’ve lived long enough to see your dream come true.  

A deep inhale fills your lungs with fresh air. Reinvigorated, you spin around to tell Silco you wish you had your camera with you.

Only to find him down on one knee. 

Holding open a small, black box with a ring inside. 

“Silco??” you squeak out, shocked. 

He looks up at you with an earnest but nervous smile, his lips pressed together in a thin line. Adoration shines in his eyes as he clears his throat.

“Before we met, I believed I had to dedicate the whole of my being to the Nation of Zaun,” he says slowly. “For the Undercity to flourish, I would have given everything, including my life. And then I fell in love with you. 

“At first, I was afraid I could not devote myself to you. There was too much work to be done. And then the most curious thing happened.” He swallows hard, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. The tips of his fingers turn white as his grip on the box tightens. 

You’ve never seen Silco this anxious before, even during his many presentations to the Council in their dark, intimidating chambers where they held the very fate of the Undercity in their hands. And somehow, despite being the one standing over him, you feel so small and overwhelmed, pinned by his gaze and hypnotized by his speech. Breathing no longer comes consciously to you, and forcing yourself to take in air almost distracts you from his words.

“You understood me. You have never, ever made me choose between you and the underground. On too many occasions, you put the Undercity’s needs above your own. I suppose, in that sense, we are very much the same,” he adds with a thoughtful chuckle. “No one could blame you if you wanted more for yourself. To find another who would have you—and only you—in their heart. And yet…”

The soft, hopeful smile on his face is full of anticipation. 

You find your body moving on its own, feet carrying you forward to stand in front of him. Just like all those years ago when you felt compelled to approach this very same rooftop, to speak to the man now kneeling down in front of you. 

“I cannot begin to describe how much I need you by my side, for as long as you’ll have me,” Silco continues. “As my one and only, my lovely… my wife.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes!!” you squeal excitedly.

You grab the oversized collar of Silco’s coat, bringing him crashing into your lips as he awkwardly stumbles to his feet. He gasps out your name in between kisses and laughter, careful to hold onto the box even as his free arm winds around your waist. 

You reluctantly step back to take a good look at the ring. It’s a thin band of pale gold with a cool silver undertone, forged in the Zaunite tradition of melting together scrap metal and gold coins, a symbolic vow of everlasting love persisting through times of poverty and wealth. As Silco picks it up gingerly, it gleams in the sun, a promise of a bright future with him as he slides it onto your finger. The ring is cool and smooth against your skin, a perfect fit as you admire it delightfully. Most Topsiders would scoff at how plain the ring is, but to you, it’s the most beautiful piece of jewelry in Runeterra.

In all respects that matter, nothing has changed in your relationship with Silco. The two of you made a tacit agreement that you were committed to each other for the rest of your lives, proven over and over again throughout years of bliss and strife. That you would stay by each other's side through everything, as surely as the Undercity sleeps underneath Piltover's shadow. You’ve lost track of the countless times you declared your love for him, and vice versa; trying to determine the exact number would be harder than convincing the Council to grant Zaun a seat at their table. And yet the thrill of the promise exhilarates you like nothing else. 

Your heart soars above the clouds as you pull Silco into another kiss, the pulse point on his throat drumming away under your fingertips as you stroke his neck. His hand drags against your leg, fingers curling into claws as he pulls up your skirt. Fabric bunches between his fingers as he slots his thigh between your legs. You melt into him as he moves to kiss your cheek. 

“A thousand times I’ve imagined this moment…” Silco pants, breath already ragged with need. “I’ve wanted to fuck you on this rooftop for years now.” 

So overcome with a desperate, aching want, your hands move on their own, reaching to unbutton his pants. It’s all the approval he needs to hike your skirt up to your waist, revealing your already soaking wet panties underneath. In a blur of flying fingers, your cunt is bared and Silco’s cock is freed. He lands heavily on the ground, swiftly tucking your underwear in his coat pocket as he crosses his legs. You grab the broad shelf of his shoulders as he reaches out for you, his hands holding your elbows to guide you. His eyes gleam with excitement as you lower yourself onto his already erect cock. 

If you were any less wet and ready, the stretch of your walls might have been too much. As it is, you sink onto him easily, your groans harmonizing with Silco’s as you settle in his lap. The pleasure-pain of being split open by him is a thrill you savor every single time you make love, and today, it’s more exciting than ever. He hugs you tight as you tuck your legs around his waist, his hand sweeping up and down your back before he takes hold of your hips. Your hearts beat madly against each other, yearning to be even closer.  

You are so, so warm, full of love and sunlight and happiness. A hearth flickering in your core as Silco finally begins to rock slowly into you. Your walls flutter around him as you try to catch your breath. 

“C-Careful—Councilor,” you gasp, trying to tease him even as air is knocked out of you with every one of Silco’s driving thrusts. “The Council will strip you o-of your seat—if they ever find out how bad you are.” 

“They can all burn,” he grunts, voice thick with desire. His grip digs into you, the sharp cut of his fingernails blunted by your skirt. “I have no need—for anything else—that would distract me from my new purpose in life.” 

“And w–what’s that—?” you stutter before he kisses you, his tongue filling your mouth, another delirious spike of heat flaring as he seeks to fill you completely.

“I would build a house for us—as luxurious as you deserve.” He pulls you down onto him, his hands pressing against the bones of your hips. You yelp as his cock hits deeper inside you, sparks dancing in your eyes as your head is thrown back. Pleasure burning even higher as he bites down on your exposed throat. Silco hums in delight as he sucks, overjoyed at leaving his mark on you. 

“There will be many rooms—as many as we need—for our children—” Silco rambles. “You will spread your legs for me and I will fill you every day—endlessly—you will take every last drop until you are overflowing—as many times as it takes—”

“You sound like—you’re going to be a busy man.” You grin against Silco’s cheek, excited at the prospect of being bred by him. He abruptly sinks his teeth into your shoulder, a sharp bite coinciding with a particularly brutal lunge into you. Yelping, you cling to him for dear life as his movements ramp up in ferocity. It’s all you can do as you’re bounced on his cock, a band straining tight in your abdomen, so taut that you almost choke. Struggling to keep your eyes open, so intoxicated on the bliss that Silco inflicts on you, your hands scrambling for purchase on his chest. Crumpling the edges of his collar in your fists as you shove your face in the crook of his neck, smothering your mewls.

“How could I not be? When your cunt feels this exquisite,” he purrs. He slips one hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit with a furious speed that has your walls clenching around his cock. A pure, concentrated flare that he stokes expertly with his fingertips, you whine as it burns hot, almost too hot for you to endure. He presses his knife blade of a nose to your cheekbone, warm breath billowing against your skin as he pours praise into your ear, “So wet and tight—always ready for me—your body is such a gift, my lovely—it’s only right that I cherish it until you bear the proof of my appreciation.” 

His lips land on yours again, depriving you of your response as he kisses you harshly. Breaking off to growl, “It would be my duty to bring you to ruin—to show the world that you are mine and mine alone—my lovely, my heart, my wife—” 

Silco punctuates the last word with his deepest thrust yet, finally igniting your orgasm. Waves of rapture rolling over you endlessly, somehow burning and drowning you simultaneously in an all-consuming tempest. Feeling more than hearing your wails tear themselves from your throat. 

All you can see and feel is Silco, his hands on your body and his cock moving inside you, bringing you to ruin just as he promised.

You hang onto him with what little strength you have left, focusing on clenching your walls while he continues fucking you, until one last slam into your pussy has him cumming, pumping hot and hard deep inside you. Elongating your ecstasy as surely as the fluttering of your walls prolongs his. You scream again as his hands brand themselves onto your hips and bud, grounding points of touch that anchor you. One last groan rumbling out of his chest and into yours as he buries his face in your shoulder, his lap soaking in your combined releases. 

Silco pants hard, his long, shuddering breaths ghosting against your nape. When he rasps out your name, it sounds low and reverential, a prayer to his goddess. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Silco,” you whisper weakly. You slump into the crook of his neck, enjoying the heady scent of his body and cologne mingling with his sweat. Your head is heavy when you pull back to look him in the eyes. 

His beautiful, ocean eyes. 

Heavy-lidded and hazy, but still locked onto you. Gaze boring deeply into you. Seeing into your soul like no one else ever has. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, worry creeping into the edges of his voice. He swallows thickly before continuing, “I know it’s been some time since we last discussed having children. If that is something you no longer desire—”

“Silco… it’s okay.” You raise a trembling hand to stroke his cheek, and he leans into it, pressing his lips into your palm. He turns to kiss you again, sweet and loving, much gentler than his earlier claim on your body. Your heart trembles with joy as you say softly, “That kind of life sounds amazing… I would love to have that with you.

“We’ve worked so hard for the future of Zaun… we can take some time to think about ours.” 

The End

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Thanks of course to @silcoitus, the smartest, kindest, most reliable beta reader anyone could ever hope to have. I have been so lucky for you to join me on this journey, and knowing that you've enjoyed this fic has been so encouraging. I've learned so much from your feedback, and if I've improved as a writer at all over the course of this fic, then that's all because of you fr <3

And thank you thank you THANK YOU, if you're still reading this. Every like, comment, reblog, and kudos helped carry me through dark times and writer's block. Being reincarnated as the Reader of this fic (specifically my OC "Iris") and isekai'd into this story is one of my deepest desires, so like... for anyone still reading this, ya'll know me better than some of my irl friends and family do, even if we've never met or spoken directly. And being seen and appreciated for that is just... so healing. I really wish I could describe it better. But it cheers me up so much whenever I see other people enjoying my writing. I lowkey wish I could show my fic to a therapist so they could figure out what's wrong with me, but ya'll reading my fic is the next best thing LOLOL

Please take care of yourselves. And thanks again, so much. Love you <333

[pbxaf4life]

The Long Game: First Quarter, Chapter 10

Paige x Azzi

Masterlist

Okay finished it faster than I thought I would. Love-hate relationship here. Lmk what y'all think. Did not edit it very hard. Also, I don't meant to alarm anyone, but something is coming...

Summary: Azzi declared herself Paige's to Paige's face, and now she had to deal with the consequences of that. A version of Paige she had yet to see. But she was into it.

Word count: 1770

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Chapter 10: You Were Bold - Azzi

At practice the next morning, Azzi could feel Paige watching her. She always did.

She stretched deeper into her warm-up, keeping her gaze fixed forward, even though she could practically feel Paige's eyes on her like heat on her skin. She knew that look too well by now—the one that simmered slow and low, the one that made Azzi's chest go tight and her head go fuzzy. One glance and she'd forget what she was even stretching for.

Her body betrayed her constantly when it came to Paige. A single look could make her pulse skip. A lingering stare could make her thighs clench. It was ridiculous, and she hated how aware of it she was—how hot her skin felt under the weight of Paige's gaze. How her stomach flipped at just the thought of being near her.

She wiped her forehead with the hem of her shirt, a little slower than necessary. She wasn't above pushing back.

During the scrimmage, Azzi hit a three from the top of the key. Instinctively, she looked toward the bench. She shouldn't have. Paige was smirking at her, eyes steady and full of something dangerous. Something Azzi wanted more of.

Her knees felt weaker than they should've. She tried to shake it off.

At the next water break, Azzi strolled over to the bench, sweat dripping down her temple. She kept her voice low, just for Paige.

"Stop looking at me like that," she said, breath still catching.

Paige's smirk widened. "No."

Azzi blinked. "No?"

Paige leaned in, her tone soft but sharp. "This is how I look at you."

Azzi's chest tightened. She turned away before she could show how much that line undid her.

After practice, the locker room was buzzing with the usual chaos. Azzi kept her eyes on her locker, trying to stay in control. She peeled off her sweaty jersey, standing there in her sports bra, trying to cool down.

That was when she felt it.

A hand. Light on the back of her neck. Not playful, not aggressive. Just... deliberate. Steady.

Then a voice, low and close to her ear.

"You look good today."

Azzi froze. Paige.

Her body reacted instantly—her breath caught, a shiver ran down her back, heat pooling where it shouldn't. She hated how easy it was for Paige to do that to her. She hated how much she wanted her to do it again.

Before she could react, Paige's fingers traced lightly down the center of her back, and then she was gone. By the time Azzi turned, she was already halfway out the door, walking like nothing had happened.

Azzi changed fast and caught up to her on the way to the dining hall. They grabbed lunch and sat down next to each other. Nika and Ice took seats across the table.

"Y'all looked sharp today," Paige said casually.

Nika snorted. "Yeah, one of us more than the rest."

Ice laughed, giving Azzi a knowing look.

Azzi raised a brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying," Nika said, hands raised in mock innocence.

The conversation drifted from basketball to classes, to nothing in particular. Azzi tried to follow, but her focus was elsewhere—specifically, on the hand Paige slipped onto her thigh beneath the table. Casual. Like it had always been there.

Her whole body went tight. Paige's touch was firm and effortless, and somehow more intimate than anything they'd done. Every slight movement made Paige's fingers shift against her bare skin, reminding Azzi that her hand there wasn't an accident. And it drove her insane.

Every slight movement made Paige's fingers shift against her bare skin, reminding Azzi that her hand there wasn't an accident. And it drove Azzi insane.

She nodded at something Ice said, though she had no idea what it was. Her skin was buzzing. Her legs were tensed, practically shaking with the effort not to move. She was barely breathing. Then Ice paused.

"You good?" she asked.

"Yeah," Azzi said quickly. "Just thinking about homework."

Paige's grip on her thigh tightened, and Azzi felt a flush rise up her neck.

When Ice and Nika got up to refill their drinks, Paige leaned in close again. Azzi felt the brush of her breath at her ear.

"You're being so good."

Azzi froze. Her heart jumped. She turned just slightly, met Paige's eyes.

"Better be careful," Azzi said, voice a little shaky. "You're playing dirty."

Paige tilted her head. "I'm not playing."

Azzi opened her mouth to say something else, but nothing came out.

Paige stood and gathered her tray. Before walking away, she leaned back in one last time, voice lower than before.

"You're the one who should be careful. I bite."

Then she was gone.

Azzi sat there, hands trembling under the table. Her body was still buzzing. Her skin was still warm. Her stomach was tight and aching and full of something she didn't have words for.

She wanted Paige. Bad.

That night, Azzi lay in bed with her phone in her hand for fifteen minutes before finally giving in.

Azzi: Are you messing with me?

Paige replied almost immediately.

Paige: Define messing with

Azzi: The touching, the whispering, all of it

Paige: Then yes. I did do that

Azzi couldn't help smiling.

Azzi: I know. But why?

The typing bubble blinked in and out.

Paige: I can't help it. You're so easy to mess with

Azzi: You're the worst

Paige: You love it

Azzi rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, heart racing. She did love it. And she hated how much she did.

She typed the next message before she could overthink it.

Azzi: Come over

A beat passed.

Paige: On my way

Azzi tried to sit on the bed casually. She didn't really plan to have Paige over. Not consciously anyway. She pretended like it was a normal night and she wasn't waiting for Paige to come over to do God knows what. 

Azzi knew what she wanted. She wanted to see if Paige would follow up on the way she'd been acting all day. Teasing. Playing. Being bolder than Azzi had ever seen her. Even bolder than when she was on the court talking trash and taking ballsy threes. Paige was never like this for anyone. Except for Azzi apparently.

Finally, one soft knock.

Azzi opened it quickly. Like she didn't care if Paige would think she was waiting by the dorr.

She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Paige looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that made sense.

Paige stepped inside, and the door clicked shut behind her. The lock turned.

They didn't speak, but the air between them was full. Full with the weight of everything they hadn't said yet.

Azzi leaned back against the edge of her desk. Paige stayed by the door.

It felt like there was a canyon between them, even though the room was small. Azzi's heart was pounding in her throat. Her hands were shaking, even behind her back pressed against the desk.

She didn't know what to do with any of it. All she knew was that she wanted Paige. Badly. Wanted her in a way that scared her a little—because it wasn't just about attraction. It was about gravity. About pull. About how the thought of Paige with anyone else made something inside her burn.

"So..." Azzi said, the sound barely breaking the tension.

Paige gave her a half-smile. "So..."

A beat.

"You were bold today," Azzi said folding her arms across her chest.

Paige shrugged. "I thought you'd like it."

Azzi let out a small laugh. "I did."

Paige took a step toward her. She swallowed. "And would you like it if I was bold right now?"

Azzi's face went soft. She opened her mouth to say something but it seemed to get stuck in her throat, so she just nodded.

Paige caught it. She closed the rest of the distance between them. They were almost close enough to touch noses.

Azzi's eyes flicked from Paige's eyes to her mouth and back up. She still didn't say anything. Just stared at her with parted lips like she was already halfway gone. Paige leaned in until their foreheads touched. Her voice dropped, soft and steady. "Tell me to stop."

"I don't want you to stop," Azzi whispered, her hand sliding up Paige's back to the nape of her neck.

Paige brushed her lips against hers—barely there, like a question. Azzi answered it, chasing the contact, kissing her properly. Paige exhaled through her nose and leaned into it, gripping Azzi's hips like it was the only thing anchoring her to the moment.

Azzi's mouth was soft and open lost herself in it. The kiss deepened quickly—too quickly—and Paige didn't try to slow it down. She let it get messy, let it get breathless. Azzi wanted Paige close, needed her closer, and every press of their mouths lit her nerves on fire. Her whole body buzzed with want. Azzi clung to her hoodie with both hands, like she couldn't stand the idea of Paige pulling away, not even for a second. Her body tilted forward instinctively, chasing the heat of it, the pressure, the weight.

Paige backed her into the desk, hands slipping around her waist, pulling her even closer until there was nothing left between them but the sound of their breathing and the sharp, electric buzz of everything they hadn't touched until now. Azzi sighed into her mouth—needy, unguarded—and Paige kissed her harder, like she was trying to memorize the shape of it. Like she had something to prove.

Azzi's hands were in her hair now, fisting gently, keeping her there. Her whole body trembled under Paige's palms. Paige could feel it. And she loved it. Loved that she had this effect on her. That Azzi wanted her just as bad.

For a minute, there was nothing else—just mouths and breath and the low burn of finally having something they'd both spent too long pretending they didn't want.

Then Paige slowed it down. Just barely. Her hands found Azzi's waist again, grounding them both. The kiss softened, unraveled, lips brushing lazily like they didn't want it to end. When she finally pulled back, Paige rested her forehead against Azzi's, her chest heaving, her thoughts a mess.

Azzi didn't speak. She just stared, eyes half-lidded, lips swollen, looking at Paige, who looked so undone Azzi could barely breathe.

"Wow," Paige said still trying to catch her breath. She took a step back to give Azzi room to breathe and to just look at her. 

She was gorgeous. Azzi saw everything she wanted. 

Without saying anything else, Azzi let go of Paige. And turned her focus to the bed. She crawled into it and lifted the blanket for Paige to join her. 

Paige obeyed without a word.

They didn't go farther that night. Just allowed themselves to tangle limbs and hold onto each other like a lifeline. 

"Azzi?" Paige said into the dark. Voice hoarse and quiet.

"Yeah?" Azzi said barely above a whisper.

"I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything as much as I want this."

[hwangswhore]

taken care of

pairing: hyunjin x f!reader

genre: smut (18+) mdni !

desc: hyunjin brings you some relief on your period.

content: period sex, mentions of blood & cramping/pain, aftercare, pet names.

ac: I’m getting my period so enjoy my brain rot :,)

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hyunjin could always tell when you were about to get your period.

the way your appetite either doubled or diminished, the way your skin flushed pink and the cute blemishes you’d get on your cheeks that you’d whine about, and the way you would hibernate under your fuzzy blanket while he read his books cuddled next to you.

but the biggest giveaway was the way your eyes glazed over with lust and need when you looked at him.

hyunjin knew you always experienced terrible cramps and that a good orgasm always brought you relief from your pain. which is why the second he came home and saw your glossy eyes, he was instantly on top of you.

“shhhh, angel, it’s okay, I’m here.” he whispered in your ear as he left warm, wet kisses down your neck. no teasing tonight , he was gonna make sure you were taken care of.

he laid out a warm towel straight from the dryer to help with the blood and double as a heating element to soothe your back from the cramps. he started messaging your feet and working his way up your calves until he reached your thighs. he left little feathery kisses on your inner thighs right near your pussy as he started to rub you through your panties. you were breathing heavily and sighing out his name while he continued to get you ready for him.

“I know, lovely, I know. I’m gonna give my sweet girl exactly what she needs.” he said with a kiss to your forehead. he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom from the drawer, sliding it down his leaking cock.

that was one thing you didn’t know; hyunjin was just as needy as you.

though it may sound selfish, hyunjin secretly anticipated for your period to come. not because he wanted you to be in pain, no, he absolutely hates to see you suffer. but because he loved to take care of you.

he loved that he had the power to take your pain away. to bring you comfort and peace through his body. to make you feel so good.

he loved seeing you go from a needy mess to a state of bliss, sighing and softly gripping his hair while he thrusted into you slowly and gently, careful not to hurt you.

he loved being the one to make it all better.

he gripped his cock and started rubbing his shaft up and down your wet folds up to your clit, knowing how much you loved the sensation. he kissed your neck and whispered sweet praises in your ear to coax you into complete relaxation before sliding his length into you all in one go. you let out a soft moan at the feeling, already dizzy from pleasure.

“sweet baby…” he kissed your lips sweetly. “you’re so beautiful, always.” he thrusted into deeply and slowly ,helping you completely forget your pain. your walls ached so good from the way he filled you.

“hyune..” you sighed out, running your hands through his hair. he tried to suppress his moans from how good you felt. “I know angel…I’m gonna make you feel so light.” he stilled inside you before bringing his fingers to your clit and rubbing small circles on you. he kept himself buried inside you while rolling his hips to help you orgasm.

after less then a minute, your entire body was trembling with pleasure as you came around him. the sensation made him release inside the condom, pulling out of you after being buried in you and nuzzling into your neck for a good 10 minutes.

he noticed your eyes flutter shut immediately following your release. you were about to fall asleep any second, you always did after period sex with him. he had to make sure he cleaned you before you got too comfortable.

“here baby, let me help you first.” you whined in protest, wanting to drift away. but you knew he was right. though practically numb, you lifted your tired legs to give him better access to you. he wiped you down with the towel before throwing it in the hamper in your shared bedroom. he put a fresh pair of underwear on you, already attaching a pad inside it, before he cuddled with you.

“I love you angel.” he pressed a kiss to your lips. you mumbled a response before drifting off to sleep, safe and warm in his arms.