#AFAB reader

[prettybouquets]

𝓛ove 𝓛anguage 𝓗cs °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝓟.2

this part includes; jayce, viktor, mel and sevika

part one is here -> 𝓟.1

a/n; sorry for the wait, i had lots of stuff going on in my life (work + uni) <3

𝓙ayce;

𖦹 Acts of Service: He loves helping you with anything, from heavy lifting to solving a problem. If he can make your life easier, he’s on it. 𖦹 Quality Time: Jayce enjoys working on projects with you in his workshop/lab or spending lazy evenings just talking while holding him in your arms. He’s happiest when you’re part of his day. 𖦹 Physical Touch: Hugs, shoulder pats, or holding your hand—it’s his way of showing you he’s there. He’s big on playful gestures too, like a quick back pat or a nudge. 𖦹 Words of Affirmation: Jayce is great at hyping you up, saying things like, “You’re incredible” or “C'mon don't say that, sweetheart, you’ve got this.” His compliments are sincere and frequent. 𖦹 Receiving Gifts: He loves giving thoughtful gifts, especially ones tied to inside jokes or shared memories.

Shows off his inventions to impress you, saying, “I totally made this for you.”

Picks you up and spins you around when he’s excited.Brings you flowers and snacks because he can’t decide which you’ll like more.

Insists on walking you home, saying, “You never know who’s out there.” then slides his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

Constantly calls you nicknames like “Star”, “Sweetheart” or “Darling.”

𝓥iktor;

𖦹 Acts of Service: Viktor shows his love by building or fixing things for you. Need a tool, gadget, or solution? He’s already on it before you even ask. 𖦹 Quality Time: He values moments where you can sit quietly together, whether it’s reading, working on your own projects, or simply enjoying each other’s company. 𖦹 Words of Affirmation: Viktor isn’t overly verbose, but when he does speak, his words are deeply meaningful. He’ll say things like, “You inspire me,” in the most heartfelt way. 𖦹 Physical Touch: While he’s more reserved, he shows subtle affection—like brushing his hand against yours or resting his hand on your shoulder for comfort. 𖦹 Receiving Gifts: Small, meaningful tokens like a handmade gadget or a book he thought you’d like are his way of showing care.

Leaves little sticky notes with reminders and doodles for you, that are, surprisingly for a scientist, well drawn.

Fixes anything you complain about, even if it’s minor, like a squeaky chair or a door that fails to stay closed.

Quietly offers his coat when you’re cold without saying a word.

Talks about science but gets flustered when you listen intently and stare into his eyes.

Builds small gadgets just for you, like a mechanical flower.

𝓜el;

𖦹 Acts of Service: Mel is all about making things happen for you. Whether it’s networking, handling logistics, or solving problems, she takes charge so you can shine.

𖦹 Quality Time: She loves intimate, one-on-one moments where you can connect over meaningful conversations, art, or quiet evenings.

𖦹 Words of Affirmation: Mel is articulate and poetic, making every compliment feel like a work of art. She’ll remind you of your worth and potential with grace.

𖦹 Physical Touch: Her touch is subtle but powerful—a hand on your arm, brushing her fingers through your hair, or pulling you into a warm embrace.

𖦹 Receiving Gifts: Mel gives thoughtful, luxurious gifts tailored to your tastes—whether it’s rare jewelry, custom art, or something personal.

Surprises you with luxurious gifts you didn’t know you needed.

Paints your portrait and insists on hanging it in her study.

Runs her fingers through your hair absentmindedly during deep conversations.

Plans elegant dinners just to celebrate small wins and milestones in your life.

Calls you “Darling” or “My dearest” with absolute sincerity.

𝓢evika;

𖦹 Acts of Service: Sevika’s way of showing love is through protection and support. She’ll handle anything that threatens you—physically or otherwise—without hesitation.

𖦹 Quality Time: She enjoys spending time with you in comfortable silence, whether it’s sharing a drink, playing cards, or just relaxing after a long day.

𖦹 Physical Touch: Sevika shows affection through casual gestures—a quick shoulder squeeze, resting her arm around your chair, or giving you her jacket.

𖦹 Words of Affirmation: Her compliments are rare but impactful. When she says, “You did good, for once.” or “I’m surprised to say but I'm proud of you,” you know she means it.

𖦹 Receiving Gifts: She’s not one for fancy things, but if she gives you something—like a knife or a lighter—it’s practical and deeply personal.

Shares her drink with you without asking first if you want any.

Fixes your gear or weapons and grumbles about how you need to “take better care of your stuff.”

Stands between you and anyone she doesn’t trust, no questions asked.

Says things like, “Don’t get used to it,” after doing something kind for you.

Gives you her jacket when it’s cold and acts like it’s no big deal.

© prettybouquets 2024. all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, or repost any work as your own.

[circusinthewalls]

NSFW König Ramblings - 18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS DNI

[Masterlist]

Honestly, I think König loses it a little every time you suck him off. He always makes a point to try not to be vocal, remaining discreet a priority, but the second you begin to take him into your throat, it all goes out the window.

You get to watch those big thighs flex. Hear him keen and choke out grunts beneath the mask. For the minimal control he maintains over his noises, he lacks it almost entirely when it comes to trying to get more of you.

He'd give anything to bury himself a touch deeper. That's why his hips stutter, jutting in uneven, shallow thrusts that have you moaning around him.

God forbid you gag. He'll whine, back pressed so hard in his seat that it makes the old wood creak in protest. Oh! And of course-

You should know he's coming right then and there, too. <3

Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[sleep-0-deprived]

Nanami x ftm reader thoughts~! ૮꒰ྀི ෆ ˃̣̣̥ ⤙ ˂̣̣̥ ෆ ꒱ྀིა

Tags: pure NSFW, vaginal creampies, slight breeding, eating out, Afab on Amab sex, office sex, under the desk blow jobs, slight degrading <33

A/N: I’ve been doin a’ lotta Amab reader works s’ I figured I’d feed m’ trans sweethearts too !

Taglist: @asher-is-hotxp @yyuinaa @silvern1006 @kimisbunny @unstab1eperson2

Just thinkin bout sextin Nami while he’s at work, sending pics of you in his fav pair of lacy panties with the frills around your pretty thighs, him responding with a message tellin you to “knock it off, I can’t afford a hard on right now [name]” but you just won’t listen will you?…oh how you could practically hear his teeth gritting and that vein bulging on his forehead when he’s all irritated…oh god you’re wet at the thought- did you just send him a pic of that? oops.

Just thinking bout Nanami comin home from a long day of work, his cock is all hard and he’s pent up from those skimpy pictures of yourself but he doesn’t touch you, he walks in the room only to look at you N’ take his tie off along with his coat before walkin off to his study in the house, he leaves you so pent up and desperate that you have’Ta beg him to even let him permit you to give a blow job before he even considers fuckin your needy cunt. Nami just grumbled on about “you want your pussy fucked then earn it— apologize for teasing me at work” he’d leave you sobbing and whining out apologies around his dick.

Just thinkin bout Nami being totally cruel with your pussy, he fucks you bent over his desk raw, his hips slap your ass cheeks flushed Nd’ he just croons you on talkin bout “y’know it deserves it for bein so greedy— if it wasn’t so needy then maybe you’d listen more” he’d talk and have full on conversations with your cunt while his tip pulses against your womb leaving a throbbing feeling between your thighs, he’s the type of man to dirty talk your cunt like you aren’t even in the room, Nanami forces his loads inside you, he may seem so tame N’ cold but his seed is your punishment. Nami makes you feel his load inside your swollen insides all day leaving you feeling bloated N’ sick.

Just thinkin bout Nanami’s idea of affections, if he’s a little too rough with your pussy he’ll be all affectionate with it by peppering kisses on your clit while he jus massages your thighs and makes out with your lips whispering bout how he “didn’t mean to be so mean on his pretty baby” Nanami is either a sweet talker or he’s cruel. Nami is vanilla with sex he’s a man with old ideals and old fashioned morals so oral and penetration is all he does unless you wanted to try something new, Nanami may be rough and fuck you hard but he doesn’t have a lot of other kinks besides that and maybe if you ever get him to admit it he does wanna see you all knocked up by him.

Just thinking bout you and Nami being together for a real long time. You two have been together long enough that kids have been mentioned, you’re in the middle of getting your insides wrecked by his cock and you already have two loads pumped inside you and all nami can do is heave in your ear “wanna give you my kids— I wanna knock this pretty pussy up-“ his platinum hair is a mess and his hand is wrapped around under your thigh lazily rubbing your clit while he fucks your pussy loose and has your puffy petals all wrapped wide around his girth making your labia look extra swollen from his cock.

Just thinking bout Nami biting your breasts at night when your binder is off, he knows your tits are all sensitive and your nipples are puffy but his if he doesn’t love to drool and make out with them like he does your pussy, if he’s lucky and you feel like it he loves squishing your tits together with his cock between them makin you open your mouth and stick that pretty little tongue out…he loves watching your nose scrunch at the tender feeling of the boob job you were giving him, his tip pressing to your tongue with every thrust makin you taste his precum before he strokes his cock at the end and finishes with his cum getting all over your mouth and chin, shooting down on York breasts leaving you a sticky mess while he grunts out “there’s a pretty boy”

[yanderestarangel]

I beg on my knees, please do a mtf! sevika x ftm! reader, where sevika tries to get her sweet sub hubby pregnant✨✨

♡⁠┊TW: mtf!sevika, ftm!reader, vaginal penetration, au, t-dick, breeding, mommykink, unprotected sex...+

She would be astonished and proud that you lasted so many hours on her cock. It had been a long time since the two of you had fucked like animals in heat. The older woman's cock throbbed with each thrust of her hips meeting yours, every expression of pleasure spilling from your lips as you rode her like your life depended on it. The sensation was intoxicating—like honey, sweeter and more addictive than the purest drug. She knew she would never tire of it.

You were so wet she could feel it dripping down to her balls, the obscene, beautiful sounds of your slick echoing through the room. Your already sore and reddened pussy clung to her, while your t-dick was overstimulated to the point of aching. Yet, she didn't stop. Her fingers continued massaging that sensitive spot, drawing out desperate whimpers of her name from your lips like a mantra. You begged her to cum again, to fill your womb until you couldn’t feel your legs anymore. But she couldn’t stop—she wouldn’t.

Even as your muscles burned and pleaded for rest, your core craved more. Struggling to find your wife’s soft breasts amidst the overwhelming pleasure, you clung to her as she used her hips to hit your sweet spot repeatedly.

The older woman grunted and moaned, her hands gently holding your head in place as she encouraged you to suck on her nipples and the soft flesh of her breasts. She watched you through a haze of pleasure, her cock pulsing deep inside your body.

"Good boy..." she murmured, her voice hoarse and dripping with affection. "Taking everything mommy has to offer, huh? Fuck... I’m going to fill you up so much—I’ll make you such a beautiful father."

Her hands gripped your hips tighter, her thrusts growing sharper as she grabbed your ass cheeks to drive herself deeper, the head of her cock brushing against your womb. She slapped your face gently, forcing you to look into her eyes. The firmness of her grip kept you grounded, though it would have been easier to lose yourself completely in the overwhelming sensation.

Her thumb traced your bottom lip, her gaze softening as she smiled faintly. A warning pulse of her cock made you gasp. "I want you to keep it all inside, okay? I want to make sure my husband takes it all like the strong man he is."

Her words hypnotized you, making you whimper and beg for another hot load. Sevika was all too happy to grant your wish. Her final thrusts were accompanied by the sound of skin slapping and filthy words spilling into the air. When she came again, you felt your walls milk her cock, greedily taking every drop of her cum as it painted your insides. Her thick fingers pressed against your entrance, ensuring not a single drop escaped.

She kissed your forehead, her hand soothingly running along your back as you calmed. "It’s okay, baby boy. You took it all like a good man. I can’t wait to see you looking beautiful and full with our children." she whispered, her voice tender and filled with promise.

And if the next few weeks didn’t bring results, she would make sure you stayed on her cock until they did—even if it meant keeping you there 24/7.

★ ! yanderestarangel©

[worldly-fluster]

I share cause this is CUTE with everything I want.

Grassland Romance AU: Winter Winds

Summary: You've been slowly falling in love with Sylus, a strange outsider who joined your tribe some time ago. You haven't been able to pluck up the courage to say anything. However, when you are caught alone in the fiercest blizzard anyone can remember, it might not be up to you anymore.

AO3

CW: AFAB reader, no use of y/n, pet names (sweetie, little huntress), blizzard, hypothermia, hunting, nude spooning, 90% fluff by volume, sexual themes (but no sex), not proofread, melodrama (god so much melodrama).

Word count: 8k

Notes: poor Luke and Kieran have to be dogs in this AU.

“Don’t be stupid,” you scoff, “how can lemmings foretell the weather? Their brains are the size of grass seeds!” The bay mare you’re sitting astride shakes her head, before pawing through the watery, heavy snow on the ground to reach the hidden grasses underneath.

Today, as with most days, you are minding the herds with your friend Cota. The two of you are practically sisters, as her family had raised you after your parents perished when you were a young child.

“I’m not the one who said it!” She protests, leaning back to aim a kick at your foot succeeding at knocking it out of your stirrup. “I’m just telling you what Elder Shikigur said, and he said, ‘There’s too many lemmings moving, there will be a large storm coming.’”

You groan. Blizzards are a continual hazard of grassland winters. Harsh winds are able to scream across the treeless landscape with terrifying fury, tearing through even thick winter deels, and whirling snow into a blinding haze. Preparing for one means rounding up the flocks, reinforcing yurts to hold against wind and snowfall, and digging out of the yurts once the storm is through. They’re critical jobs that need to be done. That is, when the weather actually calls for it.

“It’s practically spring!” You argue, gesturing wildly to the half-melted pasture around the two of you, “It’s so damn warm, that I couldn’t even wear my thickest deel today! I would’ve been covered in sweat!”

Cota shrugs, “I’m just telling you what the elders were gossiping about.”

“Well, regardless of what they say, I’m not taking out my winter deel again until next winter.”

“I bet you would if Sylus asked you to.”

You feel the color rise in your cheeks at the sing-song tease, and the mention of his name.

You aim a return kick at Cota’s leg, but she reins her mare to the side in time to evade you. “I would not! And besides, he’s out with some of the others hunting pheasant, anyway.”

Cota’s smile grows wider, “Oh ho, so you’ve been keeping track of which hunting parties he goes with, huh?”

An irritated groan leaves your throat as your friend laughs. “Aren't you supposed to be heading back about now? I'll tell the elders you've been slacking to sit around and gossip.”

“Aw, don't pout! It's cute, all your pining. You're going to have to do something soon though, otherwise some other girl is going to catch his eye at a festival, and then what will you do?”

“I’m pretty sure you're supposed to be helping with cooking right now, aren't you?”

Cota makes her own irritated groan, “No one likes when I cook anyway!”

“Better that than you sitting here and teasing me.”

She makes a rude gesture at you, and you return it.

"Fine,” she grumbles, “but keep an eye on the weather, okay?”

“Of course, I'll let you know if the lemmings are oracles or not.”

Cota rolls her eyes with a scoff, before reining her horse around and trotting back to the village. It’s good timing, you notice the right side of the herd has started to splinter a bit, and needs to be rounded back in.

As you go about your job, you can’t stop your mind from pondering over your relationship with the strange man.

Sylus had come to the tribe as an outsider a few years ago. Strong and skilled in both riding and archery, he’d been welcomed into the fold immediately, seemingly to his own surprise. His striking appearance had immediately caught many eyes; tall, broad and strong in the chest, with eyes the color of freshly-spilled blood set in a devastatingly handsome face. The one criticism you heard of him was of his curt, reticent nature, that meant he constantly had a severe expression on his face.

Well, almost-constantly.

Within a month after joining the tribe, there had begun to be problems with a particular wolf picking off sheep in the night. It had always seemed to know where to attack, far enough away from any of the herders that it was impossible to reach him in time. It even managed to evade the vigilant Bankhar dogs, who kept constant watch on their flock, and rarely let a wolf’s presence go unpunished. The predator managed to evade everyone. Everyone except Sylus.

It had only taken two nights of Sylus on guard, before he returned in the early morning light, with the giant, tawny corpse of the wolf thrown over one shoulder. He’d managed to kill it, in the dark, with a single arrow to its skull. The entire tribe had celebrated that night; an end to the nights of doubled watches in the dark and lost sheep. Wine and kumis had run freely that night, along with music and dancing in the center of the temporary village.

The wolf’s body had been set aside, to be skinned for the fur and used as linings and blankets to guard against the frigid winter months. Even in death, it still looked fierce, its fur sleek and body corded with lean muscle that reminded you of its killer. You had bent down to examine the bared teeth, sharp and white against the pale flesh of the gums. You reached out to draw your finger over one of the fangs, curious to see if it would be sharp like a knife, or blunt like one of the Bankhar dogs.

“Disturbing the dead?”

The deep voice, close enough to feel against the back of your neck, had you stumbling backwards, and gracelessly falling on your ass. A throaty chuckle came from above your head, and you had looked up to see Sylus, his face smug and scarlet eyes dancing with laughter.

“It doesn’t count if it’s a wolf,” You grumbled, pulling yourself off the ground, “ass.”

His head was cocked to the side as you rose, finger tapping his cheek in mock-thought, “I thought a wolf was supposed to be the father of the first herdsmen? Wouldn’t that make this creature here your cousin?”

“That’s an old story, no one believes that.”

His answering smile was sharp, eyes darkening into a sneer. “Is that so?” He drew closer, close enough that you could feel his breath on your face, and feel the fabric of his deel brushing against yours. The gaze he cast down made you realize what a cornered sheep must feel like in the moments before jaws close around its throat. “I think there’s more of wolves in people than you realize.” His growl was just as deep as the dogs when they scented a threat.

A part of you wanted to shrink down in your boots, make your excuses, and flee. But, a much larger, louder part of you was indignant. How dare this man sneak up on you in the dark, make you fall over in surprise, then have the audacity to growl at you like a beast?

So you had tipped your chin up defiantly, “Better be careful. Apparently even the cleverest wolves get arrows in their heads.”

He had stared at you for a moment. Made a single blink. Then a strange, amused smile curled across his face. “Are you going to be the one to fire it, little huntress?”

“If you don’t back up, maybe I will.”

Sylus chuckled then, backing up a few steps. You released a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, body thrumming with… anxiety? Excitement? Both? You couldn’t tell. To distract yourself, you turned your attention back to the kill.

“It’s kind of a shame, really. It’s a pretty creature.”

His head cocked to the side again, though the curiosity in his eyes seemed to be genuine this time. “Feeling bad for the predator?”

“He was just trying to live.”

He huffs a small laugh through his nose. “You’re cute.”

“Excuse me?” You look at him, deeply irritated at his patronizing tone.

“Most animals that steal livestock are weak. They’re sick, or injured. Otherwise it just isn’t worth risking the tangle with dogs or people. This one,” he gives the corpse a nudge, “was perfectly healthy. Strong. But instead of using its smarts to take on saiga, or capercaille, it decided to take the easy way out. It never would have stopped, once it knew that it could fool the shepherds.”

You had sighed a little, knowing that in this instance, he was right. “I know. It still seems like a shame. But at least we’ll stop losing so many sheep.”

You had looked up then to find Sylus staring at you with such intensity that you had taken a step backwards. “What?”

He blinked, the intensity dissipating as quickly as a strike of lightning. “Nothing, sweetie.”

“Sweetie?” Your nose wrinkled at the childish nickname.

He gave a small laugh, a mischievous glint coming to his blood red eye, “You feel pity for a predator that would have snapped you up in an instant. It’s very sweet, if maybe a bit naïve.”

“It sounds like something you’d call a toddler.”

“I suppose it does,” the glint was quickly accompanied by an equally mischievous curl to his smirk, “I suppose I’ll have to call you that when you’re acting like a toddler, sweetie.”

“Ugh. Ass.” You’d turned on your heel to return to the fire, trailed by the sound of deep, smug chuckling.

Since then, Sylus always seemed to show up near you, whether you wanted him there or not. And, at least at first, you certainly leaned more towards the former. He had a talent for approaching silently, getting that smugly pleased look from startling you into stumbling or squeaking. He also began to challenge you, goading you into contests or archery, or riding, or throwing knuckle bones. He was nearly impossible to beat, and even on the rare occasions that you won, he had the gall to look completely unbothered by your triumph.

Really, after a few months, you should have hated him.

But in between all of the needling and teasing and challenges, you began to learn more about Sylus. You learned that he enjoyed being out hunting or riding far more than he enjoyed being surrounded by people, even if they were praising him. You learned the long-limbed black stallion he rode when he first encountered your tribe had been declared untamable before Sylus had taken him. When one of the livestock dogs died shortly after having two pups, you even learned that (if he wanted to be) he could be downright gentle. He’d done so well in helping care for the pair, that as they grew, they followed him everywhere and obeyed his every command. All of this new familiarity, so at odds with your first impression of him, had cultivated a quiet companionship between the two of you.

Even more surprising were the moments of softness, startlingly close to affection. When Sylus had sat drinking kumis with you on the new year, and you’d excitedly shared your hopes for what was to come, he listened with a quiet smile. He’d brought you the furs from the wolf he’d killed when you caught a particularly nasty winter cold, and had even insisted you keep it after you recovered. When you met other tribes for trade, he often found you afterwards, giving you some ornament or silk from beyond the grasslands. Despite the fact he’d never admitted to it, you knew that when his two dogs accompanied you out into the grasses to watch the flocks, he’d commanded them to do so.

Maybe most importantly, he’d specifically sought you out to show you a den where wolf cubs were playing in the summer, knowing you’d like to see them tussle.

They’d been adorable, large paws and ears far too big for their fluffy bodies. The two of you had left your horses some yards away and sat down a bit distant from the pups, down wind and silent so as not to give your presence away. For a while you couldn't take your eyes off their energetic forms, tussling in the dust in front of the den, chewing on each others’ ears, yelping and licking when it became too rough. Eventually you'd looked to Sylus to ask him something, but your eyes had fallen on the short, recurve bow at his side.

“You're not going to kill them, are you?” You'd whispered

He raised an eyebrow at you in a wordless question.

You checked quickly to make sure the pups hadn't heard you. Fortunately, they still seemed to be involved in their own games.

“I mean. I know they're wolves. They might eat our flocks when they get older. But, they're just babies.”

He blinked at you, with an odd, expression you couldn't place. He rose soon after, walking silently away from the den. You'd followed him, confused.

“Hey,” you hissed, “What are you doing now?”

“Leaving. One parent or the other would've been back soon to feed them. Then I would've actually had to use this.” He tapped the bow that was now slung over his shoulder.

“Oh.” You murmured, realization dawning, “Is that what you brought it for? If one of the parents came back?”

“I certainly wouldn't have needed it to kill a fragile little pup.” He scoffed. “Besides, there's no use in killing something weak and defenseless. Though it's nice to know just how highly you think of me, sweetie.”

“That's not-” a frustrated noise had escaped you as you struggled for words, “I don't think that of you. It just… others would have done that. To make sure they didn't grow up to prey on our animals.”

He turned to you then, with a gaze that seemed to be searching you, trying to find the truth of something. “And I'm ‘others’ to you?”

“Of course not!”

He arched an eyebrow for the second time that day at the vehemence in your voice.

"You're the strongest warrior we have. And an infuriating opponent. But you're also the person who protects orphaned dogs. And brings me extra furs when I'm sick. And-” you stopped yourself before you could incriminate yourself further, taking a small breath to collect yourself. “You're Sylus. Not… Others.”

There was a small silence between the two of you for a moment, as you walked over the flowing grasses together. The only sound was the occasional waves of wind across the landscape.

It was broken, only slightly, by Sylus repeating those words. “Not others.” He said them quietly, slowly, as though testing out strange words in a new language. When you turned to look at him, you caught a glimpse of a small, soft smile on his face. A look so deeply genuine, and beautifully content, it made your breath catch in your chest.

Things had begun to change after the day with the wolves. You were beginning to come familiar with the slight curve of his smile, his real smile. Instead of your usual irritation, the glint that so often came to his eye when he was planning mischief fanned a wave of warmth in you. You began craving the slight huff of breath he gave when amused with something you’d done. The deep chuckle he sometimes gave when his body drew close to yours made something strange and molten coil in your gut. When he was out hunting saiga, you found yourself unusually sullen and snappish. And when you heard people whooping and clamoring at the return of the hunting parties, you’d be jostling to the front of the small crowd to see him.

You’d started to notice things though, in this time. The gossip among the elders as they cooked about when Sylus would marry, and whose granddaughter would be the lucky catch. The gaggles of women that followed him when he’d practice archery or spectate his races, giggling and blushing. Some of the bolder women would even bring him wine at the fireside and try to curl against him (you wished sometimes that he’d respond with more than amused chuckles at their ridiculousness, though it did produce a gratifying amount of insult in the rejected ladies). Last year at the games, you noticed he’d received pouches from women of every tribe. The smug look he gave you when he’d noticed you glaring at them had been insufferable, and you couldn’t quite force yourself to congratulate him on the numerous offers.

And yet, Sylus remained alone. You didn’t even notice other women entering his yurt (though you’d die before you admitted to watching for such). You didn’t know what you’d do if he did take an interest in someone. The thought of someone else being transfixed by that soft smile in the quiet hours of the night made bile rise in your throat. But there was always the chance that he simply valued his freedom; and being rejected in favor of an ideal you could never match seemed just as nauseating.

You mull over these thoughts as you and your mare round the goats back to the group. Or, at least, attempt to. One of the damn things stubbornly refuses to rejoin the group. You can swear you see defiance in its eyes when it looks at you. Challenging you. Mocking, even. Every time you have it going the right direction, it turns and bolts in a random direction, leaving you and your bay sliding in the slush. You then have to catch back up to it, and start herding it back once more.

You’re an excellent shepherdess, with a keen eye and a skilled hand with a bow. You've rarely lost an animal on your watch, and certainly never on purpose. But at this point, even you are beginning to think that losing one goat would really not be all that bad if it means this one wouldn’t be part of the herd anymore. Besides, a wind is beginning to rise, a cold one that cuts through the previously-warm day like a freshly-sharpened knife. You’re beginning to wonder if maybe the lemmings were smarter than you’d thought.

After one more, particularly long chase, you give in.

“Fine then!” You yell at the animal, which stood watching you with unaffected eyes as it chewed grass, “you want to deal with a blizzard alone? Go ahead! I’ll laugh when you end up as a goat-cicle! Laugh!”

With a huff, you turn your horse about, ready to gallop back to the herd, and start moving them to a more sheltered part of the pasture. The animals, however, have moved further away on their own. You can see the large dark mass of them in the distance, and you feel a slight unease in your gut. You're not sure how much you believe about oracle lemmings, but you know livestock well; They instinctively group up close when bad weather is imminent, and it seems that they are bracing for a storm now.

Even more worrying is the wall of iron-gray clouds you see blowing in. They're advancing rapidly, overtaking the sky at a pace you've rarely seen before. The wind, too, is beginning to blow so furiously it all but screams, whipping any unmelted snow up into the air.

You again feel that unease in your gut. The village is even further than the herd from where you are at the moment. Thanks to the previously warm weather, you're woefully unprepared to weather a blizzard alone. But both your other options are bleak; either try to make it to the village and hope there's not enough falling snow to make you lose your way, or try your luck with the herd and hope their bodies keep you warm enough to make it through. At least if you make it to the village, your survival is guaranteed. The same can't be said of the herd.

You rein your mare toward the direction of the village, just as the first volley of fresh snowflakes batter your face and hands. And despite your own dire situation, you can't help but think of Sylus, out with the other hunters. They may have arrived home already, and even if they haven’t, their chances are good; the men should be able to find protection from the wind and cold in a group. Nevertheless, your gut twists with anxiety. Hunters rarely stay completely together. And even in the few minutes you’ve been galloping towards the village, visibility is worsening. The gusts of wind have turned into blasts, ripping through your deel and chilling you to your bones. The blasts are also heaving the already-fallen snowflakes up to rejoin the fresh ones in the air, and creating moments where the landscape is inscrutable.

Between the moments of furious wind, you can see the outline of the village. Even as your heart pounds with hope at the sight, a needling numbness begins to take hold in your hands, making it difficult to keep hold of the reins. You try to switch hands; tucking one into the overlapping fold of your deel in an effort to keep it warm, before switching to the other. The biting wind, though, is so vicious and unforgiving, that it takes a mere few seconds for whatever warmth one hand has gained to be lost. At the same time, the numbness has taken hold in your feet, making it impossible to distribute your weight properly. The violent shivers as your body tries to warm itself are a further complication.

It only takes one misstep from your mare. One hoof landing on some uneven ground, causing her to stumble. And despite the high-backed saddle, and your best efforts, it’s impossible to keep your seat. You land hard in the snow. It’s soft enough, at least, that you’re pretty sure nothing is broken. Not that it matters much. Lost and alone in the screaming wind, and featureless white storm, you are as good as dead.

It feels like an eternity that you lie there in the snow, body wracked by violent shivers in a last-ditch attempt to survive. Logically you know it can’t have been more than a handful of minutes, since you are still alive and conscious, but time loses its meaning in a situation like this. Everything ceases to exist, save for the horrible wind and the bone-deep, soul-leaching cold. The snow is falling fast, fast enough that it’s already covered you as you try to huddle for a semblance of warmth. You’ve been buried alive, waiting to die as the world around you slowly quiets and darkens.

A morbid part of you wonders if the tribe will find you, once the snow begins to melt. You imagine Cota will insist they stay long enough to find your remains. You hope she doesn’t feel guilty; neither of you could’ve known the storm would come on so fast. Your mind wanders to Sylus, too. Did the hunters make it back home before the storm hit? You pray they did; or at least they were together when the snow began to fall. The thought of Sylus in the same situation as yourself seems impossible. You have to believe it’s impossible. Entertaining any other idea strikes a dread into your heart as cold as your little tomb. You pray instead that he’s made it back, that he is safe, and warm. And, if you’re able to be a little idealistic, perhaps wondering where you are.

Quite suddenly, a sound shatters your quiet morbidity. Stark against the background of shrieking wind, there is a deep bark. Then another, closer. Soon, there is a constant barrage of the noises.

Hope burns bright in your heart. Maybe, just maybe, all is not yet lost.

You try to shift under the snow, trying to claw your way out of your icy grave. But your limbs are trembling so hard, so frequently, that controlling them is near impossible. Worse, your muscles are becoming weak. Soon they’ll be too exhausted to even shiver, much less move the heavy snow that entombs you. Nevertheless, you have to try. You must try. Because if you don’t, your last hope of warmth will move on, and then you will truly be as good as dead.

Your efforts come to a halt when a startlingly loud crunching begins in the snow above and around you. It doesn’t take long before the blanket of snow is lifted from your head, and a warm puff of air greets your face.

You open your eyes. And instead of a blinding white storm, your vision is filled with deep brown eyes set in a furry face as black as night. The same face that Sylus has sent to accompany you on night watches and sunny days alike. You smile at the familiar creature, despite the chattering of your teeth.

“H-hey, boy.” You whisper, your numb hand reaching up to sink into the dog’s deep fur. You can still hear his brother nearby, barking furiously above the wind.

Though Sylus knows them at a glance, you've never been particularly good at telling the two dogs apart by looks. They're both black, with intelligent eyes and powerful frames. In behavior though, they are slightly different. Gerel is louder, and more playful. Khar, though quieter, is definitely the smarter of the two. He's likely the one blocking your body from the worst of the wind, now.

You try to call Gerel over as his brother curls himself around your quivering body, but it’s too hard to draw a deep breath. Instead, you lean against the one lying on you, burying your face and hands against the one reprieve from the cold. You can think of nothing else but how good the slight amount of warmth feels, even as your fingers begin to burn slightly from the frostbite. It is a promising pain, one that feels of returning life rather than looming nothingness. You doubt it will be enough to truly save you, but at least you have some source of comfort now.

Eventually Gerel goes quiet, and you begin to worry he's become lost in the storm as well. You lift your face from Khar's fur, and try again to call his brother, but fail. Khar perks up, though, his massive tail wagging a fan-shaped dent in the snow. Perhaps he can smell his brother on the fierce wind?

A few moments later, you hear it. A deep, commanding voice that cuts through the shrieking wind like a blade, calling your name.

Sylus.

You don’t know why he’s here, or if he’s even real. It may be an illusion conjured by your failing mind and body. It does not matter. Real or not, you must go to him.

You try to draw yourself up, try to call his name, but Khar remains a dead weight on you. You try to shove him, but your muscles are still shaking uncontrollably, making any efforts to dislodge Khar useless.

Please, you think desperately, please, I need to go to him. I need him, I need Sylus.

In the midst of your struggle with the animal laying on you, you very nearly miss the crunching of snow approaching you. Gerel soon appears, fur nearly white with the coating of heavy, wet snow that clings to him. And directly behind him is a sight that would make you weep if you had the breath for it.

It's Sylus. He's battered by the wind and ice as he wades through the fresh snow, only a step behind Gerel. His face bears a sharp, unwavering determination and ferocity that puts even this storm to shame as he wades through the drifts. His eyes, bright scarlet amidst the daunting white, lock onto yours. Only when his master is a single step away from you does Khar finally wiggle himself off of you. The wind immediately rips away all the warmth the dog has lent you. But you feel the loss only for a moment, as in the next breath, Sylus has yanked you bodily out of the snow and crushed you against himself.

“Found you,” his deep voice is quiet, heavy with an emotion you can’t name. And oh, oh, even if this is a dream sent to ease your last moments, you do not care. There is no one you’d rather imagine at your side right now.

He releases you, only slightly, to tug off his own gloves and put them on your trembling hands. The heat that envelopes them makes your skin burn, and a whine that is half-choked by shivers bubble out of your throat.

“Bear with it,” he murmurs, wrapping a thicker, warm deel over your current one, “You won’t be able to beat me at archery if you lose your fingers, little huntress.”

Normally, you would call him an ass, berate him for worrying about losing his archery competitor as he gave you a smug smile for taking his bait. But you can’t. Your mind is foggy, and all you can do is curl into him as he sweeps you up into his arms. You notice briefly that his eyes have narrowed again. He looks… irritated maybe? Angry? You aren’t sure. Before you can think about it for very long, though, you are distracted by a sharp whistle from Sylus, shrill and sharp even over the unending wind. It’s followed by a whinny, as his tall, powerful horse wades through the snow with a determination identical to his master’s.

Sylus walks to meet the horse halfway. He says something, and then suddenly his arm drops out from under your legs. You stumble slightly, knees buckling under your own weight as your boots drop through the knee-high snow. You are strangely surprised when you don't hit the ground, and it takes you a moment to realize that Sylus has a hold on your waist, steadying you.

Oh. He was going to set you down. That's what he had said. Of course.

You look up at him, and find a hard expression on his face. Why does he look angry now? You don’t understand.

His bright eyes bore into your own, cutting through the confusion for a moment. When his voice comes, it is a command, not a request.

“Stay with me.”

You're not sure why he's saying this. It's not like you're going anywhere. All you want right now is to just curl up and sleep, back in his arms, if possible. But you nod anyway.

Sylus swings himself up onto his horse, settling himself behind the canticle. This again confuses you. You're supposed to sit on the seat. Not behind it. But before you can continue puzzling over this, Sylus has bent half-over, wrapped an arm around you once more, and hauled you up against the side of the horse. The pressure of it is uncomfortable, and you try to squirm out of the grasp. Sylus's hold is sure, though, and before you can break it, he's hooked the other arm under your knee, and lifted you up into the seat of the saddle.

You try to brace your legs, to keep your seat as the stallion begins to move beneath you, but your vicious shivers make it difficult to control your limbs, even for an action as instinctive to you as walking. Before you can falter though, Sylus’s arm wraps around you, holding you safe and steady against him.

You do your best to keep your eyes open against the biting wind and freezing snow. But the scant amount of warmth you can feel through the thickness of both your clothes, paired with the movements of the stallion slowed by the snow, is almost hypnotic. And you are tired, oh, so tired.

“You lost this game,” he says, in that damn smug voice that always makes you want to punch his arm.

“Game?”

He gives an affirmative hum. “Hide and seek. I found you, didn't I? That's another victory for me.”

You give a grunt of disgust, still not sure what he's talking about, but irritated by the condescension in his voice all the same.

“Don't be such a sore loser, sweetie.”

You don't know why you're even sitting on the same horse as him.

“A-ass,” you hiss around the waves of shivers. “Sh-should. P-push off.”

The dark chuckle behind you is as alluring as it is infuriating. “I'd love to see you try.”

You do try, for a moment, pushing against his hold. But you are soon frustrated by how clumsy your movements are, and exhausted by the effort. Sylus's tight grip is immovable anyway.

“Seems I'm still on the horse, sweetie.” Comes the singsong mocking from behind you.

You give a grunt in response. You can't be bothered to be angry. All you can feel is the heavy tiredness dulling all your senses.

Sylus says your name, sharply. There's an odd tone to it. You don't care enough to think about why.

You're vaguely aware of being jostled. And then, for a while, you are senseless.

The damn shivering is what wakes you. It's so violent and pervasive that it drives the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping between the waves of trembling to try and regain it. On instinct, you try to curl into yourself, but are unable to. In fact, apart from the tremors, you can’t move your body at all. You seem to be surrounded by some sort of heavy mass, pressing on every inch of you. You struggle, pushing against the weight near your face to get some breathing room. The mass grunts, then moves away for a moment, freeing your head and upper body. You have only a moment of reprieve from the claustrophobia before…

Something warm, wet, and slimy drags across your face.

“Ur-rgh!” You bring a quivering arm up to rub away the slime.

A deep chuckle rumbles behind you, the breath of it close enough to make warmth fan across the back of your skull, “Is that how you thank Khar for helping to save your life, sweetie?”

Your eyes snap open at the familiar voice; although instead of the carmine eyes and seductive smirk you expect, your vision is filled (for the second time today) by pitch-dark fur and smiling brown eyes set in a distinctly canine face. Right as that same face applies another sloppy lick to yours.

“Kh-khar!” You squeak, bringing your now-free arms up to protect your face from the onslaught of affection. “Th-thanks, but s-stop!”

Khar obediently jumps down from where you’re laying, though he gives you a pathetic whine. A further weight is removed from your lower half when Gerel reluctantly hefts himself off of you to join his brother on the floor, giving you a similarly dejected look.

Without Khar laying on you, you can see more of your surroundings. It’s clear that you’re in a yurt, one that is unfamiliar to you. The only light source is the barely-visible fire crackling complacently in the small stove at the center, leaving much of the place in shadow. Is it night, then? Why are you here? And why do your hands and feet feel like they are burning?

You flex your hands between shivers in an attempt to stop the strange, tingling heat. If anything, that seems to make the feeling sharper, more biting in its ferocity. Shifting them out from underneath a heavy woolen blanket and furs to inspect them gives no answers, given the dim light.

“Can you still feel them?” Sylus’s voice, humorless this time, cuts through the slowly-lifting fog of unconsciousness and confusion.

“H-hurts.”

“Good, that means there’s still life in them. Better than losing such pretty fingers to frostbite.” Memories come to you at the word ‘frostbite’. They are hazy, as though recalling a dream several hours after waking; the dogs finding you in the snow, warming you and guiding Sylus to you through the blinding storm, Sylus carrying you in his arms, and keeping you upright in the saddle before you drifted into unconsciousness.

“Syl-” Your words are cut short. In trying to turn to face him, you realize that his powerful arm is curled around your waist.

Your naked waist. And at your back, you do not feel the rough texture of clothes; but instead the heated, sticky kind of softness of skin on bare skin.

Your body stills in shock; suddenly, you are horribly, wonderfully conscious of every inch Sylus has pressed against you: The firmness of his chest, the sharp jut of his hips, the tangle of his legs around and between yours, and (both the most enticing and mortifying of all) the warm, heavy weight of what must be his cock nestled against your ass.

That damned smug chuckle comes again, “I was wondering how long it would take you to notice. It took you a while; maybe I should be more worried about your head than your fingers, hm?”

You stutter a few times, as your mind comes to terms with your situation, before blurting in a rush, “Where are my clothes, Sylus!? Where are yours!?”

“Ah, you mean our freezing, sopping wet clothes?” His tone is almost sing-song in its blithe news, and bereft of any shame, “I took the liberty of removing them so that you didn't continue freezing to death.”

Somehow, his complete lack of any embarrassment heightens your own, as though your mind has determined to make up the difference between the pair of you. The heated panic in combination with exhaustion, confusion, and desire collide in a nerve-wracking swirl. You scramble wildly to get up, get away from this source of searing, tumultuous emotions. But the movement of your hands makes them burn as you try to gain purchase In the blankets and furs, and his arm around you is immovable as stone. “You- I- Couldn’t you have just thrown a blanket on me or- or something!? Gods, let go!”

He gives a derisive snort. “You would have just frozen to death under a blanket instead of snow. You didn’t have any heat left to trap, so I lent you some of mine. And no.”

“No what?”

“I just risked my life in a blizzard hunting for you, and I’m not about to let all my effort go to waste when I’ve already caught my prize. So, no, I will not be letting you go.”

“This isn’t- Can’t you just put on some damned pants, at least?”

“Hm, I could… but are you sure you want me to?”

“Sylus!!”

He gives a full laugh at your flustered squeak, “Once I’m sure that you’ve completely warmed up, I will. Until then, I suggest you stay still. Unless you’d like me to warm you up a different way. But I’d suggest waiting until your hands have healed.”

He must be teasing, surely. Delighting in your embarrassment as always. Still, a tiny, idiotically hopeful part of you can’t help but wonder… if you were able to see his face right now, would you see a small glimmer of want for you underneath the inscrutable mask? You dismiss the thought quickly. Even if you were able to see his face, you’d only see that damn self-satisfied smirk that makes your stomach twist.

“The elders are going to be insufferable about this,” You mutter, desperate you lay those thoughts to rest. Well, as best as you can, considering Sylus is curled around you.

“So what? Let them talk.”

“Easy for you to say. They won’t say anything to you; you’re the one half of them are looking to marry their daughters off to.” You’re only aware of the venom in your last few words after they’ve already left your mouth. You pray Sylus doesn’t notice.

But of course he does.

“Jealous, little huntress?” You can hear the smile in his voice

“You’re an ass, do you know that?”

“I’m hurt sweetie. I run out into a storm to find my poor, lost huntress, and in return she calls me an ass.”

He gives a mock-sigh, but something in his words raises a question in your mind. Sylus had been out with the other hunters just before the storm hit. You hadn’t even been sure he would make it back to the village in time, but somehow he managed to find you?

“How did you even know I was out there?”

Sylus pauses for a moment. His voice, once he does speak, is startlingly somber. “Some of the hunting group saw the cloud wall rolling in. We rode back as fast as possible. Even so, if we’d had further to go, the wind would’ve outpaced us. I’ve never seen clouds that heavy and fast, outside of summer storms.”

“I tried to ride back too, when I saw them. But with the cold, I couldn’t feel my hands, and the rough ground…” You trail off, fully prepared to be teased about your riding skills. Instead, you feel an ever-so-slight tightening of his arm around you. You wonder if he’s even aware of his own movement.

Sylus continues, “When we arrived, people came out to greet us and help get everything secured before the worst of the storm. I didn’t see you throwing people out of the way like usual.”

“I do not throw people out of the way,” You mutter.

“If you say so, little huntress.” You can hear the smile in his voice for a moment, though it disappears when he continues, “I found Cota, and asked where you were. When she said you were out shepherding, I knew you wouldn’t make it back before the snow came. So, I took Khar and Gerel, and had them track you.”

“Was anyone else missing?”

“We’ll find out after the storm.”

The two of you are quiet for a moment, as you process his response. He didn’t notice anyone else was gone. He didn’t ask to see if any others were lost. He didn’t bother to try and search for anyone else in the snow.

He noticed you were missing.

He asked where you were.

He went into the storm for you.

“You… Sylus, were you out in that storm, just to find me?”

A small, humorless huff of laughter fans across the back of your skull again. “I wasn’t out there just taking a stroll, sweetie.”

“You could’ve lost Gerel and Khar. And your horse. And your life.”

“Worried about me, hm?”

Of course you were. Sylus is a strong, clever man. Perhaps the greatest warrior and hunter your tribe has known; but even the greatest of mortals are brought to their knees by the forces of nature and the whims of chance. You want to tell him all this, tell him that the thought of him standing alone amidst the howling winds, searching for the path to safety… even just thinking about it makes your chest feel as empty and cold as the storm still raging outside. Your breath catches, and you cannot force the words, glutted with feelings as they are, out of your throat.

So instead you reply, “It’s a big risk to take.”

“Maybe.” His tone is nonchalant, as though he is talking about what he’d brought home from hunting, rather than the act of risking his dearest possessions and life trying to save you in near-hopeless conditions. “But I don’t gamble unless the prize is worth the risk.”

It takes you a moment to digest the words, heart caught in your throat, hardly daring to believe that you’ve understood him correctly. A fragile but brilliant hope lights in your chest. You had been aware of the friendship that had begun to form between you and Sylus, and you had been aware of your desire to be something more to him, to be someone he wanted. But you hadn’t dared to imagine occupying a position of such value to him.

“You think I’m worth all that…?”

You don’t mean to say the words aloud, but the exhaustion loosens your lips just enough for them to spill out. Immediately your stomach lurches at a strange, shifting fear. Perhaps speaking the thought aloud has crossed some sort of line, daring the universe to snuff out your hope just as it had been lit.

A soft, teasing lilt returns to his voice as he speaks, “I believe that’s what I just said, little huntress. Hm, maybe I should be more concerned about your head.” The hand that isn’t curled around your middle gives the top of your head a soft tap, tap, tap.

A small, breathless laugh bubbles up out of your chest, the hope within you flaring bright and making your heart race. You don’t know how he manages to do it; to convey something as heartfelt as ‘you are worth risking my life and all I hold dear’, while simultaneously sounding like it’s the most simple thing in the world. Something that should be obvious even to a small child.

It’s a special talent you’ve noticed in Sylus ever since that day with the wolf pups; he makes you want to throttle him one moment, and in the next breath he’ll speak with such sincere simplicity that it utterly disarms you. He somehow manages to walk that fine line between keeping you on your toes with bantering, and keeping you grounded with his forthrightness. It's addictive. It's comforting. You're not even sure if it's something he tries to do, or if his natural state of being is just something that draws your soul in effortlessly.

You need to face him.

You turn in his grasp to look at him, trying to ignore the burst of prickling heat in your hands. It's worth the pain. Sylus is a striking picture in the low light; all silvery tousled hair, gold skin, and sanguine eyes, graced by a rare look of surprise for just a moment.

And then his face relaxes into a soft look, one you've started to see more and more, but never fails to make your heart race faster than a horse galloping over the grass sea.

“There you are,” he murmurs, voice rough and low. And you simply cannot help it. Frostbite be damned. You might die if you don't kiss him, and you've come close enough to that today already. You have to kiss him.

The press of your lips against his is insistent, but chaste. At least, at first. Sylus takes in a sharp breath, and for a fraction of a second you wonder if you've misread, if you've pushed too far. And then, his mouth becomes soft, and pliant, and something in your chest melts when the arm he has around you slides up your spine to press at the nape of your neck, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. A pleased sigh escapes you, unbidden. Before you are quite aware of your own movements, your hand is at his jaw, cupping his face, trying to pull him closer.

A new flare of pain sears your hand at the pressure, and you reflexively pull away with a hiss.

You open your eyes (when did they close?) to see Sylus, pupils blown wide, looking at you with that same sort of ferocity and determination you saw in him earlier, when your eyes met his in the storm. And for a moment, caught in that unwavering intensity, you swear your heart forgets how to beat.

His eyes remain fixed on your own as he takes your wrist and gently (too gently) moves it away from his face, which has settled back into its usual near-arrogant smirk. Reality crashes in on you then. You are in Sylus's yurt, kissing him, sharing a bed, naked. The realization is followed by a disorienting mix of embarrassment, pride, shame, and excitement. You've just kissed him for the first time, and you know if it weren't for the pain in your hands you would have taken as much as he would give you. Begged for it, maybe. What does he think of you now? How much would he let you take? What would you tell everyone once you left here?

But as usual, when your mind threatens to whirl itself into chaos, Sylus cuts through it.

“I'll have to collect on that part of my prize later, little huntress,” He murmurs, and you wonder if it is merely your imagination, or if he is actually as breathless as you are. His thumb strokes across the soft skin at the underside of your wrist, across the vein where your pulse is thrumming like a caught hare's. “I want to see what those pretty hands can do to me when they're all healed.”

Hearing him say it out loud makes the embarrassment resurface with a vengeance, and the barely-leashed heat in Sylus's gaze makes it unbearable. Breaking the stare, you take your hand back and shuffle under the blankets once more, until the hem falls across your cheek.

Sylus's amused chuckle earns him a glare from you, but your indignation is quickly soothed over as he drags his fingers through your hair, across your scalp, gently untangling the strands. After a few minutes, the gentle scratching opens the door for a wave of exhaustion, heightened by the warm darkness and the muffled howling of the winter winds outside.

You wonder, vaguely, if the touch was meant in apology, or to make you drowsy. You're not sure it matters. Sylus is here, looking at you with that affectionate, soft smile, as your lips begin to flutter.

“Sleep, shevonica,” is the last thing you hear before drifting into unconsciousness. This time, in the safety and warmth of Sylus’s hold.

[celisths]

woah, is this love?!

a/n: hey yall! this is a collab with the lovely @sukunas2ndconcubine who asked if i could make a smau about their story ‘woah, is this love?!’. make sure to check em out!

starting: Choso Kamo

warnings: none!

summary: Choso Kamo finds himself falling for y/n, over the span of a few days

credits to @saradika-graphics for banners and dividers!

[staylovesmiley]

Youtiful: Another Collision Story - Chapter 2

₊˚⊹ᰔ Pairing; Stray Kids x afab!reader

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; It’s been a wonderful tour so far, spending time visiting different countries with the loves of your life. But will a sudden change ruin everything? A continuation to Collision

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; implied afab reader (only they/them pronouns used for reader), angst, some sexual themes at points, fluff, this is still mainly a slice of life story though there will be some drama in this sequel, unplanned pregnancy, more tags to come most likely as the story progresses

The airport was loud, causing you to have a splitting headache as you tried to rest leaning against Changbin’s strong body in the seat beside you while waiting for your flight to be called. “Feeling any better, baby?” Hyunjin whispered as he took a seat on the other side of you. “Um- not really? My head just really hurts…” The dancer nodded a bit as he thought, pulling out some snacks from his bag to offer you. “Maybe your blood sugar is low? Why don’t you try to eat something.”

The smell coming from the bag held out to you made your stomach wretch and you were out of your seat in seconds, hanging over the edge of the nearest trashcan as you emptied what little breakfast you had been able to hold down into the bin. Both men gave each other worried glances before Hyunjin called out softly to their leader. “Channie hyung- help?” The oldest turned around from where he was discussing something with their manager to see you slowly lifting your head from the trashcan and lock eyes with him. “Star? Oh gosh, honey-“ he was at your side in a second, rubbing your back as someone placed a handful of paper towels in his hand to help clean your face. “Are you sure you’re up for getting on the plane, baby? You know one of us can stay back with you for a day or two until you feel up to flying.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish his sentence, giving him a weak smile. “I’m fine Chris, promise.” With a deep breath you stood up a bit and made your way over to the women’s room. “I’m sure it’s just the change of the seasons getting to me…just gonna go wash my mouth out real quick-“ Chan watched as the door closed behind you, lips pursed together as he walked over to where Hyunjin and Changbin still sat with confusion laced in their shared expressions. “What happened?” His voice was soft yet serious, taking up the seat you had previously been occupying.

Hyunjin shrugged, holding up the snacks he had offered to you. “Their head was hurting so I offered them some incase they just needed to eat- ya know Lix and Minnie said they didn’t eat much for breakfast before leaving either.” As Chan himself caught a whiff of whatever was in the bag held up in his boyfriend’s hands he gagged a bit. “Okay those reek, Jinnie- no wonder Star hurled.” He teased, laughing at the younger’s pout as he put his snacks back in his bag. “You’re such a meanie! Those are absolutely delicious, thank you very much.”

While his boyfriends continued to tease one another, Changbin kept his eyes glued to the bathroom door as his mind began to wander. No, you couldn’t be. He shook his head lightly to clear it of such thoughts. Surely you would tell them if something so serious was happening. He made a mental note to check in on you after you had landed and got checked into the hotel. “Han!” He called out, getting up to make his way over to where Felix had himself practically wrapped around him. “Yeah, Binnie?” Big boba eyes looked up at his fellow rapper, blinking a few times as he waited for the older to tell him what he needed. “Switch places with me and let Star stay with me for the first stop?”

Jisung pouted, arms coming to cross over his chest as best they could with the freckled dancer still draped around him. “And why should I? We agreed age order from youngest to oldest and it’s my turn!” Changbin rolled his eyes playfully and gave a light slap to the younger’s arm. “I’m just worried about them. They aren’t feeling well and I wanted to be able to keep an eye on them and take care of them.” He confessed, looking down at his shoes bashfully causing both of his boyfriends to coo at his shyness. “Awe Binnie that’s so sweet!” Felix chirped, rubbing Han’s shoulders rapidly with the cuteness aggression he was feeling.

The younger rapper’s smile fell quickly the more he thought, pout back on his lips as he looked up at Changbin. “But wait a minute why can’t I take care of them? What difference would it make-“ Felix gave him a light slap this time, pouting back at him. “You know how Bin is- come on just swap with him!” At the persistence of both men, Jisung relented. “Okay fine…Star can stay with you this stop- but no take backs! I get the turn after Jinnie! Felix as my witness!”

Changbin relaxed a bit knowing your spot in his room that night had been secured. “Deal! Thanks Hannie~” The older wished he could lean down and give his boyfriend a kiss as thanks but knew that was not doable in such a public space, so he settled for blowing him one instead before practically skipping back over to his seat with Hyunjin and Chan. By now you had returned from the restroom and sitting in the seat he once occupied. “Hi baby! I just talked to Han and he agreed to switch places with me so you’ll be with me at this first stop.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in question, looking behind him at where Felix and Han both gave you a smile and a wave. “Oh-Kay? Any reason?” You gave your boyfriend a smile to let him know you weren’t upset by the change, only curious as to why. “Just missed you lately and wanted some time with you sooner is all! Is that a crime?” He teased, about to sit beside Hyunjin in the empty spot on his other side when the sound of your flight being called echoed through the loud speakers. “I’m still sitting with Innie on the flight, though. I promised him I’d help him choose what photos to post next to Instagram.”

The rapper nodded his head, helping you up as your head spun slightly and your nausea felt like it could be returning. “Fine by me, as long as I get you to myself for the week!” With a wink, Changbin headed off after the others to board the plane. You fell in line as well, Jeongin coming up beside you to link arms with a dimpled smile. “Excited to be back in the states?” He asked, head tilting to the side cutely as he looked at you expectantly. “Yeah kinda! We are going mostly to places I’ve never been….I mean- America is so big and we are only making a few stops in comparison but it will be nice to see new places.” You attempted to explain, watching as he nodded in understanding. “I’m glad you can come with us and experience everything.” The younger’s voice was soft, fingers intertwining with yours the second you were sat in your seats. “Me too, Innie.” You leaned over to place a kiss over his dimpled cheek causing them to deepen even more as his smile grew wider.

While on the flight you tried to focus on whatever conversations you were pulled into with your youngest boyfriend. However, your mind continued to wonder to the small version of one of them currently growing inside you and what you were going to do regarding the issue. Every time you thought about how difficult life would become with a child added into the mix, both for you and the boys, you felt the right decision was to terminate the pregnancy. But the thought of termination caused tears to well in your eyes and an unease to settle deep in your bones.

You never really thought about having children, but now that it was possibly happening you couldn’t help but imagine it. Even though you felt that for the sake of your boyfriends’ and their careers you shouldn’t keep it, you weren’t sure that’s what you really wanted. As you drifted off to sleep sometime during the flight you found yourself caught in a dream where you had decided to keep the baby, raising it along side the kids happily.

The scenes played in your mind rapidly.

Your sweet Changbin cradling the tiny infant close to his muscular chest, his physique making the tiny human look even smaller as he would look at them with so much love and adoration.

Jisung rocking the baby to sleep or soothing them when they got fussy by singing in such a gentle voice it pulled at the strings of your heart and made you fall for him just that much more.

Seungmin who would obsess over making sure everything was perfectly safe, especially once the little one started to crawl and walk, going baby proofing crazy and storming around the dorm like a man gone mad with a tool belt around his waist and a power drill in his hand.

Hyunjin, ever the artist, painting your bump each month for pictures as your little baby grew inside of you. When they were finally born he would inside on taking foot prints each month as well for a project he was keeping to himself, a surprise for you all.

Your precious Innie who would make sure that any time he went out with the baby they were dressed in matching outfits. He would take a million and one pictures of the two of them, so proud to be a father with the most best dressed baby on the planet. No, universe.

Felix who when he first saw the little bundle laid on your chest in the hospital, tears welling in his eyes before finally spilling over once the baby was placed in his arms. Ever since then he would cry any time the infant would, somehow instantly quieting the child as they would stare at him with wide eyes as if shocked by the action.

Minho who would cook almost endlessly in a quest to find something the now growing toddler would eat, refusing to purchase the overpriced and over processed baby food from the store. He insisted no child of his would ever eat bland mush as long as he was around.

And your lovely Chan, working in the studio as usually but now with a babbling toddler sat in his lap, pudgy little fingers attempting to smash at the keyboard he was currently working on but instead of getting upset he would calmly take the little hands in his own and beam down at them with such a soft expression, speaking in the same baby voice he would with his beloved pet Berry, talking about how his baby wanted to be just like him and be a producer someday.

When you woke, jostled slightly by your youngest boyfriend who sat beside you, you looked around frantically as if you were missing something. When it dawned on you that you had only been dreaming, and there was no child for you to hold and care for, your eyes began to glass over with tears and you let out a few warning sniffles before the dam burst and you were openly sobbing in your seat. The sound of your cries alerted your boyfriends who were in the process of gathering their things to leave the plane now that it had landed.

“Star, baby? What’s wrong-“ Jisung, who had been sitting in the isle across from you, crouched down beside you to wipe away your tears gently. The sweet gesture only served to make you cry even more, body trembling as you reached out and clung to him as Jeongin struggled to help undo your seatbelt for you.

The boys all stood watching with concern, no one else stepping forward for fear that they may crowd you and make it worse. Once Jeongin got the seatbelt undone you fully flung yourself into Jisung’s arms, knocking him back onto the isle floor with the force as he held you protectively. “Hey, baby. I’m here, I’ve got you.” You slowly began to calm down, face buried in the crook of his neck, taking deep breaths to match his own as you felt his chest move with your own.

When you were finally calm enough you pulled back, wiping away your tears as you stood. “Star? What was all that about….” Jeongin spoke softly, coming up behind you with both of your carryons slung over his shoulders. “I just- um- bad dream…” You looked down, feeling bad for lying to them. It wasn’t a bad dream, not at all. It was such a lovely and idealistic dream that caused your heart to feel like had been ripped out of your chest when you awoke to see it wasn’t real. But it could be…it was already partially real and the fact that you enjoyed the dream so much just confused you more as to what decision would be the right one. You needed to tell them, soon. But for now you focused on getting out of the plane and into the cars that would take you to the hotel you’d be staying in for the week.

Once you were finally settled in the hotel with Changbin, the your boyfriend insisted you lay down for a nap and that he would wake you before they ordered dinner. You weren’t going to argue, your head hurting and the nausea having kept you up most nights leading up to the trip. You weren’t sure if it was from the tiny human growing inside you or the stress of trying to figure out what to do about said tiny human.

You curled up on the soft hotel mattress and your loving boyfriend tucked you in with a soft kiss to your temple, letting you know he was going to be in Chan’s room to work on some new music they had some ideas for. He wasn’t lying entirely, he was going to Chan’s room. They all were.

He made his way across the hall and gave a few sharp knocks before the door was opening and Jeongin was pulling him inside rather harshly. “Woah- no need to manhandle me Ayen-ah!” He laughed, watching as the youngest closed the door and made his way back over to where Felix was curled up on the couch to cuddle up to him. “Something is wrong with Star, like….really wrong.” Han speaks up first, hands rubbing nervously over his bouncing knees before Minho reaches over to still them. “Well clearly- but they don’t seem to want to talk about it…” Hyunjin says, his eyebrows furrowed as he seemed to be lost in his confusion. “I think I know what’s wrong.” Changbin spoke up, voice quiet which was a rare occurrence. All eyes fell on him expectantly, Chan stepping up to him with arms crossed over his chest and a look of worry obviously painted across his face. “Bin?”

Taking a deep breath, the rapper ran a hand through his hair nervously before answering. “I think Star could be pregnant.”

Blank stares met his eyes as he looked over all of his boyfriends. Within seconds the room erupted into chaos. Hyunjin looked like he had seen a ghost, Seungmin’s expression not much better. Chan held an unreadable expression though there were hints of worry and disbelief hidden there. Felix was teary eyed as he looked around. “P-Pregnant? Like with our baby?” This caused Minho to scoff, the second oldest holding a slightly amused expression. “Ya! Who else’s baby would it be?” He looked around at the group with a pointed finger. “Alright fess up, who’s been hitting it raw?” Minho tried to lighten the mood. Even though he was joking a few hands suddenly raised slowly. Han, Jeongin, and not surprisingly Chan all held their hands up bashfully. “Seriously??” Seungmin stared with wide, disbelieving eyes. “They were on birth control! We didn’t think we would end up like this-“ Han shouted in defense, a pout evident on his face.

Minho rubbed his back gently, giving a kiss to his head. “Hey, we aren’t accusing you of murder or anything I was only teasing. Didn’t expect any of you to fess up.”

The room fell silent, all of them staring off into space before Hyunjin finally spoke up in an almost dreamy voice. “We’re….we could be dads.” That’s what caused the tears to finally fall from Felix as he held on to Jeongin, crying onto his shoulder as the youngest gently ran his fingers through his hair even though there were tears in his own eyes making his vision slightly blurred.

“Guys I could be wrong- let’s not get to ahead of ourselves! I just- I remember this is kinda how my sister was when she was pregnant with my nephew…it’s why I wanted them to stay with me this week so I could maybe keep an eye on them and make sure they are okay if that is the case…maybe get them to feel comfortable enough to tell me.”

Chan frowned, sweaty palms running over his thighs nervously. “But why wouldn’t they tell us already? What if they aren’t pregnant and it’s something really bad- I’m gonna go talk to them-“ Changbin stopped him, bringing the oldest in for a tight hug as he rubbed his back soothingly. “Hyung please- she’s resting now. I’m almost positive that’s what’s going on…trust me? She may just be overwhelmed and trying to find the right time. We haven’t exactly all been available as of late.”

All eyes were cast downwards as they realized he was speaking nothing but the truth. With the comeback and then the world tour right after they had been so busy that any time spent with their beloved partner was fleeting and brief or not all of them were present. If what Changbin was suggesting was true then it would be something you would want to tell them all together, and so it made sense you would be waiting for the right time.

Slowly everyone began to calm down, minds running wild with the news that they would be fathers this very moment at the possibility there was a baby growing inside of you. They didn’t know for sure yet and so they all silently agreed to wait for you to say something about it first for fear of getting it wrong. For all they knew you were coming down with the flu and if they mentioned to you that you could be pregnant it could only upset you further, as your emotional state as of late could be from anything from stress at work to missing your boyfriends as they got busier with their own work.

That night Changbin tells them to eat without the two of you, instead the rapper ordered you both room service and woke you gently by slipping into bed behind you and pulling you against his strong chest. “Hmph-Binnie?” You mumbled, sleep still muddling your mind. “It’s me, baby. Since you seemed so tired I decided the two of us could just eat in here tonight? Is that okay?” You smiled softly, nodding as you rolled over in his arms to face him. “I’m not gonna complain about getting some one on one time with you, Binnie~” Changbin beamed at you, his dimple showing causing you to reach up and poke it. He giggled, pulling you closer as he peppered your face in soft kisses.

These were the moments you lived for, feeling safe and loved. You thought back to your current predicament, eyes closing as you remembered the dream from the plane. Maybe…this would be okay? Maybe it wouldn’t complicate things as much as you were worrying about? Still, doubt crept into your mind as you took a shaky breath. “Everything okay, baby? Is my starlight still feeling icky?” You nodded and slowly sat up as to not trigger your nausea. “Not too bad right now, my head just hurts a bit? I’ll be okay though.” Changbin hummed softly, admiring you from where he still laid back against the soft pillows. He had to fight the urge to reach out and run a hand over your stomach, his thoughts still running wild with the images of you pregnant with his baby. Their baby.

The food arrived shortly after and even though you had to struggle to keep it down, you managed alright and afterwards Changbin drew a warm bath for the both of you. Once you were settled with your back resting against his chest and the bubbles he had added lightly tickling your bare skin you began to feel better. “A bubble bath?” You giggled, finally acknowledging it as you looked at him from over your shoulder. Your boyfriend laughed as well, scooping up a handful before bringing it to his chin to make a fake beard. “Yup, just so I could do this! Do you think I’d look good with facial hair?” You snorted, scooping up some of your own to create your own beard. “I dunno…would I?” This caused the both of you to erupt in infectious laughter, the rest of the bath spent more peacefully until the water became too cold and you both ended up wrapped in each others arms in bed, bare limbs tangled as Changbin kissed you softly in between whispers of how much he adored you. You told him the same, of course, listing off everything about him that you found endearing.

That is how you drifted off to sleep, feeling oh so loved and oh so safe, hope wrapping around you as you dreamed yet again of what the future could be if you were to start a family with the absolute loves of your life.

author’s note: I know I left you guys hanging with this story for long enough- I’m so sorry it took this long to get chapter 2 out but you guys should all give a big thanks to @chancloud8 for helping me get out of the slump I was having regarding the dream part of the fic- I wasn’t exactly sure what direction I wanted to go and the inner conflict Star is having was just- idk I really hope I got it across how I wanted- I’m not gonna make you all wait much longer for ch3 so please be a little patient as I at the very least update Connected and Going Dumb before another Youtiful update. I hope you all enjoy~

taglist; (pink users I wasn’t able to tag) @softkisshyunjin @coastinglove @palindrome969 @amara-mars @whiteghostt @ihrtlix @queen-in-the-shadows @soaplickerrr @skzswife @reallysparklychaos @sebastianswhore13 @velvetmoonlght @katsukis1wife @chancloud8 @corgilover20

[likethe-month]

The Time Between Us -Historical Yandere x Reader Pt. 2-

Yandere x Accidental Time Traveler Reader Part 2

Reader is AFAB with she/her pronouns

TW for unethical practices in metal health hospitals, depictions of violence and blood, possessive behavior, mentions of needles

Here is the link to part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/likethe-month/762159401755869184/the-time-between-us

-

The heeled shoes you had been previously given were not assisting in your attempts to escape. James had handed you over to the authorities, and your kicking was of no use. You shrieked and howled as the policemen dragged you away, but your cries fell upon deaf ears. No one would help you. The day had become rainy during your confrontation in the university building, and you blinked as raindrops pattered onto your face.

You felt multiple pairs of eyes staring at you before you were tossed into the back of a carriage. The horses in the front began to trot away, and you pushed yourself to the back of the cart as the container jolted at the movement.

Your hand gripped at your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. Ragged, desperate breaths were materializing in front of you as little puffs of fog due to the cold.

Once you had been taken to the asylum, a group of women wearing nurses' dresses gently led you to a room that was labeled "sanitation" by a metal plaque on the front.

You grabbed the arm of one of the women, and you looked into her eyes with all the desperation in the world. "Please- I can't be here- I have to go back," you gasped. She only gave you a pitying look and prepared a bath for you.

Once you had been cleaned, clothed, and stripped of any remaining dignity, you were put into a concrete room with only a bed in the corner. Pounding your fists on the door was futile, and a guard warned that he would "call for the doctor" if you continued. Images of rusty syringes and bloodstained metal filled your mind as you recalled scenes from some of the more morbid documentaries and photographs you had perused as a student.

Unfortunately, you would inevitably find yourself subject to the questionable medical practices of the time. You had no idea what they were doing to you, but you protested nonetheless.

Days of thrashing and babbling about “needing to return” to your own time did not help your case with the workers. They injected you with strange liquids despite your protests as you insisted that the medicine at the time would kill you. Remembering your professors' lectures about old mental institutions, you now fully understood why they were so horrible and torturous.

And then there was James, or, rather, the absence of James. His face would always appear in the constant nightmares that you couldn’t escape. You would shriek and dig your nails into the flimsy mattress provided for you to sleep on, and a guard would impatiently rap on your door in response. Whenever a nurse would tend to you, you would ask about him, dreading the day he decided you were well enough to return to him.

If the nurse was kind, she would smile and place a comforting hand on your shoulder, reassuring you that you would "stay until things were safe again."

If the nurse was cruel, she would scowl and ask why the likes of James was "engaged to a lunatic like you."

When you heard this, you heart skipped a beat. After you pleaded with her and pretended to be as stable as possible, the nurse finally presented you with a form that James had apparently submitted to the institution.

The paper contained your full name and James's next to it. But, he was listed as your caretaker and fiancee. Afraid of losing too much progress, you swallowed thickly and shakily looked away from the piece of paper. Maybe you could cry later, but not in front of this particular nurse.

It was difficult to decide if the asylum or James was the worse punishment. At least, with James, you would feel true warmth again. Somervault had a fireplace, but you hadn't behaved well enough for this privilege yet. Without a phone or any means to communicate with the outside world, you were able to entertain yourself with your own thoughts, and the kind nurses would occasionally bring you a new book to read. You had to keep your mind stimulated, or else you would lose everything, if you hadn't already, that is.

One day a nurse brought you into the large, white visiting room after tenderly making sure you looked presentable. This marked the first time you had felt sunlight in a few days, and you yearned to be closer to the tall windows. “A very nice man is here to visit you, Miss (L/n).”

He was here. James walked in, his shoes softly clicking on the wooden floor. His expression was unreadable as he sat in the chair in front of you. The only thing separating the two of you was a small coffee table.

You quickly looked up at the nurse from the chair she had sat you in. “I don’t want to see him,” you whimpered. “Please, keep him away from me,” you begged as the woman gave you a sad smile.

“I’ll give you a minute with Mr. Harrington, dear girl,” she said as she removed her arm from your grip.

"No... Please-" you begged as she stepped away from you to allow James to approach.

James approached you hesitantly, and you couldn’t tell if he was acting or not. “Is-is she?…”

The nurse smiled at him. “She’s mentioned your name quite a few times. We’ve had to subdue her, but she’s become much more docile in the days she’s spent here!”

“Oh, dearest (Y/n),” James murmured, gingerly taking your hand in his.

The nurse was gone by now, and you were left with the man you wanted dead.

Despite every instinct screaming at you to pull back and run, you stayed perfectly still. The fear coursing through your veins turned to a subdued rage.

You flinched back as he brushed his hand over your cheek. "I do hope you've made progress here. I hate the idea of these people bringing harm to you, but this is necessary."

“You-you’re evil. Do you know what they put me through here? I hate you!”

He chuckled in response. “Don't you understand that I was forced to teach you a lesson? Has this place already done you in, my sweet (Y/n)?”

You shuddered violently at this, trying not to throw up. “You left me here to teach me a lesson? You’re sick. It’s you who should have been tied up and force-fed all sorts of poisons.” You whimpered when James' grip on you tightened and he pulled you close.

“Don’t you worry, pigeon,” he murmured into your hair. “I’m going to take you home and we can live a happy, peaceful life together. You were brought to me for a reason, and I simply cannot let you go.”

Shuddering at his words, you began to sob.

“Don’t you see? The universe has granted me the perfect partner to be by my side for the rest of my life," James then lowered his head so that he spoke directly into your ear. "Once I bring you home, you will be the envy of every woman in the city. I've made some substantial strides in my work, and my pay has increased by quite a bit. All we need now for the perfect life together is for you to come home."

You would’ve sobbed, but you couldn’t seem to make any noise at all. You couldn’t come to terms with the idea of being stuck sometime in the 1880s. It wasn’t fair. The benefit of being fascinated with history was that you could look back into the past from a much more comfortable position. Instead of enjoying modern technology, medicine, and food, you would probably get yellow fever and die within five years.

“Please,” you choked out, your nails digging into his suit jacket. “Let me go back, this isn’t right. I’m not supposed to be here.”

"What does it matter if this is right or not?" he chuckled lowly. "You're going to be my wife, and if you thought you had no freedom here, then just you wait."

With a shriek, you lunged at James, pushing him to the floor with a heavy thud. He struggled underneath you as you brought your fists down upon his face with blinding rage. The man cringed in pain, groaning as you hit him, but his attempts to defend himself were fruitless.

"In my time, James, women are encouraged to fight their attackers," you snarled breathlessly as you wrapped your hands around his throat. "If you think I will ever be a docile little wife, then you are sorely mistaken."

Suddenly, hands grasped at your arms and threw you off of James. You cried out as you hit the cold floor. Two of the guards had entered the visiting room at the sound of a struggle and quickly apprehended you. The nurse had returned, and she was holding one of the large syringes that sent your heart racing whenever you saw one.

"Whatever you're doing here at Somervault clearly isn't enough," James growled at your captors, rubbing at his neck, which was now red and showed signs of eventual bruising. "When I return, she must be fully compliant, am I understood?" he barked at the workers.

When they nervously agreed, he stalked back over to you, kneeling so that he met your gaze.

You let out a small hiss between gritted teeth when you felt the familiar sting of the needle. The injection was already working, and you felt your eyelids growing heavier and heavier.

"Sleep well, my dearest," he murmured, wiping a stream of blood from his lip. "No matter how you fight, nothing will keep me away from you."

You fell unconscious, slightly triumphant at the sight of his bloody face. As you slept, however, James was there, taunting, laughing, and scowling at you.

You were beginning to believe that there was no corner of your mind you could retreat to where James wasn't lurking.

[slvttyplum]

nanami didn't believe in "tapping out." it messed up his flow, and in the end he was stuck with a hard dick. with you, it was completely different. he encouraged you to take all of him just so you could tap out.

he didn't know why it aroused him, but he loved how confident you got every time he was in between your legs, stuffing you deep with his dick, kissing him, and tonguing him down just to be moaning helplessly in his mouth the next minute.

the human body is sensitive, but yours was especially sensitive to his touch. one graze over your nipple and your body was squirming from pleasure; he loved it, all of it, and he was never going to get tired of seeing it.

your legs wrapped around his waist tightly and stuck in the same position because of how overpowered your body was with pleasure. he loved eyeing down your body and watching every single movement, giving him even more reason to fuck you slow and deep.

the both of you had the "three slaps" rule; three slaps on the mattress in a row meant that you were done, and of course this rule only applied to you.

nanami was never truly done. if it were up to him, he would have you in so many positions by sunrise, but you could only take so much, and he was okay with that. as long as you tapped out with three slaps, he would be done.

it was almost like a surrender; that's why he was so turned on by it, telling him that your body had enough of his dick. trying your hardest to keep going, but your body gave up so easily.

like a safe word, but instead of words, you used your body instead. he loved the idea; you weren't good with words or remembering them when you were getting overstimulated by his dick repeatedly sliding in and out of you.

he loved every part about your body not holding up to his dick stretching you out. his eyes locked on yours as you held out your moans and tried to keep your body from a full reaction, but it never worked. nanami's eyes were scanning your body for it.

at the end of the day, his goal was to give you a lot of pleasure, and he achieved it every time, but a little teasing in bed didn't hurt.

[chososrightnipple]

❝𝗷𝗷𝗸 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 + 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀❞

a/n: i'm going insane guys anyway love u all mwah <333333 afab body but no gendered language btw!

part two.

── დ ──

. *. ⋆ GOJO SATORU

▸ creampies. please just let this man cum inside of you omg he'll go insane. seeing the way his release leaks out of you afterward has him ready for another round almost immediately.

▸ dacryphilia. "you crying'?" says it all right there. he'll coo, a bit mocking, and wipe at the tears running down your cheeks.

▸ size difference. he's so big compared to you. his height, his hands, his dick. he gets off on it so hard seeing you have to look up at him :(

▸ praise (giving + receiving). he'll charm your panties off if you really want, just make sure to let him know how good he's fucking you, too.

▸ overstimulation. hand in hand with dacryphilia. he's not done with you until he's shooting blanks and you're a weeping mess below him.

▸ breeding. listen.. he needs an heir for the gojo clan. he'll fuck you into the mattress for hours on end- he just wants to make sure his baby takes, that's all.

▸ orgasm denial. he's a cocky man, and he knows it. he loves the exhilaration he gets controlling your orgasm, making you beg for it before he gives you any satisfaction.

▸ pussy/thigh/boob jobs. he wants to put good use to all of your body.

. *. ⋆ GETO SUGURU

▸ choking. the feeling of you swallowing as his large hands cusp at your neck is like a drug to him.

▸ begging. seeing you so compliant under him as you plead and cry for his touch... those pretty little eyes and wobbling lip. it's mean, he knows that. he just couldn't care less.

▸ sense deprivation. tying you up and blindfolding you, giving him all that power? he goes crazy for it.

▸ degradation. you wanna be fucked like a slut, he's gonna treat you like one.

▸ edging. when he's feeling really mean, he'll edge you for hours. until you're shaking and whining and the only word you can get out is a broken moan of his name.

▸ impact play. he loves waking up and seeing the red imprint of his hand on your ass oh my godddd don't get him started.

▸ hair pulling (receiving). he wants you to tug at his hair, card your fingers through it, pull it as you're riding his face!!!

▸ sadism. pretty much hand in hand with everything above. he's such a mean boyfriend but he knows how much you love it.

. *. ⋆ CHOSO KAMO

▸ biting. your shoulders, neck, and thighs are full of his teeth marks, almost perpetually. and of course he's not gonna complain if you leave a few bites, too.

▸ begging. show him how much you want him, how badly you need him, and he'll fuck you as much as you want. you just gotta put in a little work first.

▸ worship (giving + receiving). seriously this man worships the ground you walk on from the moment you wake up to the second you fall asleep. he just asks you worship his cock the same

▸ overstimulation. he's fuckin you until his legs are giving out from under him and you're nothing but a fucked out, drooling mess being pressed into the bed.

▸ blood play. i mean... i think this is a given.. will purposefully bite down too hard just to lick the blood clean as an apology.

▸ orgasm denial. he knows once you cum, it's over, and he just wants to stay sat in your pretty pussy a little bit longer- you understand that, right?

▸ somnophilia. his favorite breakfast is in between your thighs. besides, you don't think there's any better way to wake up, anyway.

▸ voyeurism. pleaseeee pleaseee pleaseee let him watch you masturbate it's all he needs in this world !!!!!

. *. ⋆ SUKUNA RYOMEN

▸ anal. he needs to claim every hole your body has to offer. plus true form sukuna is a slut for his double penetration just saying

▸ choking. hearing your choked gasps as he squeezes your throat could make him cum on the damn spot. watching your eyes roll into the back of your head as each second passes on.

▸ exhibitionism. no, he doesn't care that there are other curses around and no, he doesn't care if they can see. you're his, and he'll fuck you anywhere he wants to.

▸ extreme bondage. watching your poor, writhing little human body tug at your restraints uselessly is something he'll never get tired of.

▸ collaring. he'll even get his name custom engraved, just so everyone who looks at you know exactly who you belong to.

▸ degradation. he's a mean thing, but you seem to enjoy that for some reason. he savors in the way you clench around him every time he calls you a whore.

▸ edging. you're not allowed to cum until he's says so, and anything before that? you're in for one hell of a night.

▸ predator/prey. let him chase you through the woods as foreplay. he'll inevitably catch up, of course, but seeing you attempt to get away is so cute to him. especially when he's had enough of the teasing and is pinning you against the nearest tree.

[tojisun]

i feel like simon loses it when you murmur, “like this?” every time you ride him.

it’s not even the first time that you’ve ridden him—and he sure as hell would make sure that it wouldn’t be the last—but there’s always something so sweet at the shy curl of your question, your watery eyes peering up at him like simon isn’t ravenous for every inch of you; your scent, your taste, your touch—he’s hungry for everything that you are.

so when you ask him—

like this? timid and achingly soft;

like this? heart stutteringly quiet and meek;

like this? overwhelmingly intoxicating—

simon buckles and wraps his arms around you because, “yeah,” simon replies, voice rumbling in a ragged rasp. “jus’ like that, love.”

his cock twitches, pulsing, and he has to bite down at the inside of his lip to stop himself from reaching his euphoria. it’s too soon, almost embarrassingly so, but he can’t help himself. it’s like your meek question is a trigger for him, unravelling his body until he feels like he is left as mere threads of his ecstasy, stroked to its tipping completion.

yeah, simon repeats to himself, his thick hands planted on the fat of your ass, squeezing greedily, before hoisting you up to feel the delicious press of your walls drag along his cock. it is such an enveloping warmth; all feverish and soft.

how could you even ask him anything like he isn’t being unmade?

you hiccup, breathy and hitching, as you curl close to him. simon chuckles.

“that’s right,” he says, fucking you back down his length. “s’good, huh?”

all he gets is that familiar thrum of your muffled hum, and simon coos because he knows he’s hit that threshold that renders you nonverbal.

see? such a sweetheart for him.

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Wolf hybrid pack that was supposed to eat chubby bunny reader but instead take you in and use you as their little breeding toy.

They just kind of adore you, spoiling you with freshly picked fruits and vegetables, doting on their sweet little bunny as much as possible.

You want snuggles? They’re making a cuddle pile immediately, and you’re at the center. You’re hungry for something sweet? They’re ransacking the nearest village and bringing back every sugary item they can find.

They get into a lot of fights over who gets to breed you first once mating season comes around. You’re a bit afraid, seeing all these tall, needy wolves circling you like you’re a slab of meat.

It’s the first time they’re ever rough with you, pushing your soft body down and holding onto your hips as they rut into your fat pussy until you’re knotted over and over again.

Once they’ve all had a turn, they’re back to purring and cuddling into you, giving you little mating bites and cleaning you up.

You decide it’s worth it to get fucked out of your mind every once in a while if it means you’re treated like the pack’s princess. After all… it feels way too good being all full of cum and being bounced on one knot then another…

Being adored by an entire pack of wolf hybrids isn’t easy, but you’re a horny bunny, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljr @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68

[deathc-re]

oh, how he just wants to make a pretty little house wife of you. leave you with absolute freedom and autonomy over your time.

you want to go shopping? here's his card.

you want to join a yoga/ pilates/ kickboxing class? let's register you together!

you want to renovate the kitchen? my buddy knows a guy.

he wants to come home and smell the amazing cooking you have for him. or on lazy days, plop on the couch with you and eat take out.

he wants to smile at his phone while at work because you sent him a selfie of you eating breakfast at noon, or taking the dog for a walk, or with shopping backs in the trunk or with the people you're volunteering with or whatever it is your heart desires.

he wants to see you on the porch, barefoot and pregnant, rubbing your belly and waving to him as he pulls up in the driveway.

he wants to hear you ramble on about the new book you read and hated/loved. or help you brainstorm ideas for your passion project.

he wants to brag about you to all his work buddies and bring you to all the corporate dinners and stroke his own ego while you bashfully tell his coworkers that you "don't have a job, my husband takes care of everything."

NANAMIN, BAKUGO, KIRISHIMA, FATGUM, IZUKU, aizawa, yuuta, armin, iida, iwazumi, sugawara + whoever else you want!

[uglygirltrying]

barbarian!ghost x princess!reader | pt2 to this

princess!reader whose new life, after the wedding, was as easy as it could possibly be. she just had to sit still and look pretty. most difficult part of her new life, was her new husband. he's a hard head. a piece of work, as she liked to think. as if he could be changed.

barbarian!ghost who liked his new wife. enjoyed her, even. she's pretty, sure. but she's a good girl too. and he liked that. he liked how he needed to protect her. keep her safe and warm. fed and happy. and, he'd gladly do just that.

princess!reader whose stuff was starting to make itself home. her clothes filled the dresser. her vanity table stood against the wall. fresh vase of roses on the nightstand every morning.

her smell stuck on the pillows.

barbarian!ghost who would only trust his most loyal men to guard her. the men he trusted, not to let his wife get hurt. not get touched. the men he trusted, to always know, whose wife the princess was.

barbarian!ghost who would probably never admit how much he was actually ready to do for her.

how many men he would kill at her word, before ever asking anything in return.

how many kingdoms he would take over, just for her to wear their riches.

and how much he would sacrifice, just for her to sleep in his arms every night.

taglist: @soapisdaddy

sorry that it's so short, and barely anything. i didn't feel inspired. but i still wanted to post at least something, because it was requested🙏 if i get inspired, I'll probably rewrite in another style, not this listing thing yk

[yanderestarangel]

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻... 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻

♡⁠┊TW — dp, anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, monster fuck, praise, breeedkink, afab reader, dark smut, dead dove, Ghost has two dicks here (because I chose to write it like that)

"Don't look anywhere else, look at me... I'm still your husband." The words were followed by the wet sound of the two cocks of your now radioactively-rayed husband, who looked like a monstrous anomaly — with two extra heads, two extra arms, and... two extra cocks.

You hadn't expected that in thousands of years, but when Simon came out the door completely safe and sound, looking like that was shocking and at least scary to your eyes.

Even so, you were on your hands and knees, feeling one of his cocks enter your ass while the other filled your wet pussy, making you whimper loudly as you felt his very hot and heavy balls hit your clit with the slow thrusts that the military man was giving you.

You could feel every pulsing vein of his shafts in your wet holes, the slickness between your thighs and his groin increasing. His now gray eyes were locked completely on your figure, two of his four arms gripping your waist while the other two held your wrists behind your back, ready to dominate and maneuver you as he pleased.

Hearing your moans of acceptance, his two cocks throbbed like never before, impaling you to the point where you even forgot that your partner was now a shadow of what he once was.

All that mattered in that moment was that you could take every inch of what he was giving you, as if your life depended on it—as if every fluid that came out of his cocks was a poison that made you crave more and more of him.

The slow, flesh-to-flesh pounding that had once been tender was now replaced by Simon's almost animalistic movements above you. A little drool dripped from your mouth as you could only wriggle your toes every time one of his cocks reached the tip of your womb while the other kissed limits you didn’t even know existed.

Grunts escaped his lips, muffled by the mask that was now completely part of his skin, fused to his flesh like a second garment. His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough to leave marks as a hoarse growl came from his throat, echoing like a triad through his three heads.

"Come on, sweetheart... I know you want to cum, don't deny it... cum for me." His words were tinged with the same honey that once soothed your soul. It was still him, even with that new body—and you felt yourself becoming addicted to it, like a drug, leaving you with pleasure so intense it made your system shut down.

You felt him give one final thrust, and at the same time, your pussy was filled with the warm, viscous liquid of his semen. Your other hole was filled as well, causing tears to spill from your eyes as you whimpered from how full you were. But your partner didn’t stop—Simon continued with small thrusts until he felt your inner walls drain him. One of his many hands moved to your pussy lips, slowly opening them to expose your tight slit as it swallowed his cock.

"I won’t let you leave here until I see you beautiful, full, and carrying my children in your belly... Do you understand, my angel?" His words left no room for argument, and no matter how tired you were, saying "no" wasn't an option. After all, you wanted him too, regardless of his appearance. He was still yours.

[majinbangus]

Silly thought but-

Wearing a fit with no pockets, you have no purse, no nothing to carry your phone, but that's okay because your man said he'll carry it in his pocket, he has more than enough space in those jeans of his. He tells you you don't need to bring your wallet either. Today's all on him.

So he's out treating you to some shopping (gotta spoil his love and all). You're at the register, looking cute while he's digging in his pocket to pay. He can't find his wallet. That's okay, he'll check his other pocket. Still no wallet. Alright, he's starting to get upset with himself. Did he really forget the one thing he needed for today? He promised you he would take care of everything. Take care of you.

He pats himself down once, twice, thrice, but still nothing. He forgot his wallet at home. He's about to curse himself out and apologize to you for bringing you out for nothing, but then you put a placating hand on his bicep, squeezing with a sweet smile he doesn't deserve, telling him it's alright. And just when he's about to rebuff that, you- you-

You reach into the front of your shirt, fingers dipping between your breasts, and pull out your credit card, making quick work and paying for the things he should be paying for, before he can react.

You put your card back in your bra and grab your bagged items, smiling at him, telling him you want to eat at that new restaurant down the street. He doesn't snap out of his haze until you're tugging at him.

Grumbly and grunting, he snatches your bags outta your hand, mumbling something about you not lifting a finger and promising to make it up to you for forgetting his wallet and making you pay for your day out, the day he was supposed to spoil you rotten. But he sucks up his indignation because you're smiling and happy to be spending the day with him, and that's all he really wanted.

He would have also promised a light punishment because how dare you presume you would have to pay for anything when he was there to take care of you, but since he did in fact forget his wallet, he was willing to let your transgression go. Just this once. He would not be forgetting his wallet ever again, and you would not have to worry about paying a dime for anything you ever needed or wanted while he was around.

-

reader ftw with the bra as a pocket hack