#DO I NEED A REASON TO HOLD BACK MY HUNGER--

[gay-dorito-dust]

resending the req :)

can I have a thing of sylus and zayne visiting uni student reader who has been staying at the library for long hours and late into the night? been stuck in library jail as of late n just need a lil smth QwQ

Late night studies at the local library wasn’t uncommon for you, needing to get as much information from text books compacted to a easily rememberable format to put down in your notebooks, just so you could have an opportunity to -hopefully- pass your fucking exams.

However you had seemingly lost track of time as soon enough it was dark outside and your phone was being blown up by text messages from Sylus that dated back hours ago. Your phone had been put on silent and you were too busy studying to even notice the text notifications piling up in the slightest.

You internally winced. You knew that Sylus wasn’t a fan of being ignored and most likely had sent Mephisto to check up on you for the reason of your inactivity. As though struck by the god of prophecy himself, you heard a familiar birds cawing, followed by a metallic tapping against glass that made you perk up towards one of the windows across from you; only to see a pair of glowing red eyes peering back at you with its head tilted to the side almost quizzically.

‘Mephisto?’ You asked silently but before you could figure out how far Sylus must be if Mephisto was already here, a hand clasped on your shoulder and pulled you away from your table and into his strong arms and chest. ‘You’ve overstayed your welcome again kitten.’ A voice purred in your ear and it didn’t need no explanation that it belonged to Sylus himself, who was smirking at you once you pulled away from his embrace.

‘Sylus?’

He smirk widens. ‘Someone was ignoring my texts for textbooks, so I got Mephisto to see what was so important you were actively avoiding me.’ He says as he looked over your pile of books and scattered notes before looking back at you and noticing how worse for wear you looked. ‘Did you eat or drink today?’ He asks honestly but the silence that followed his question hung heavily in the air only gave him the answer he needed as he huffs.

‘Come along sweetie, it’s time you let yourself have a break and allow me to make you something to apprise that hunger you’ve been ignoring all day.’ Sylus gently flicks your forehead, making your wince, before kissing it and whispering, ‘you’ve done enough for today, the world isn’t going to grow legs and leave the moment you shift your gaze elsewhere, and besides you’ll do fine in the exams my smart little cookie.’ He then pulls away to start putting your things back into your bag in an calm and organised manor.

‘How do you know that I’ll be okay?’ You asked, holding your hand out to take your bag off of his hands after he’d finished packing away everything. Sylus swats your hand away and keeps a hold of your bag on his shoulder just as his other hand intertwines your fingers as he pull you out of the library, where a car was waiting outside for you. ‘You’re my smart cookie, there’s no possible way you’d fail.’ He replies confidently.

‘And if I fail?’

Sylus looks to you and boops you on the nose with his own and he leaned in close to your face. ‘Doesn’t change that fact that you are smart in your own right darling, now let’s go home and watch your favourite show and eat dinner then finish off with desert as a treat for all your hard work.’

Zayne knew by the time on his phone and how dark it had become outside that you had forgotten that the passage of time exists as you stayed overtime at the library.

He also was certain that you didn’t allow yourself mandatory breaks either as you often forgot to do so most times without reminders in the form of his texts. He knew how much the exams meant to you but he wasn’t about to allow you to neglect your own health and safety -especially when it got as dark as it did- for them. He wouldn’t allow you to endanger your health nor wellbeing for grades.

After making you a generous amount of food to eat, Zayne grabbed his coat, his keys and left your shared living space and heads to his car before driving off towards the library to pick you up, he’d be damned if he lets you walk home at this time of night.

You were half asleep and were about to use your notebook as a makeshift pillow. You didn’t know what time it was but what you weren’t expecting was to look out a nearby window and be met with seemingly never ending darkness. ‘Was it really nighttime already? That can’t be, let me check my- ow.’ You grimaced as you looked at your phone, it was indeed nighttime and not only that you had gotten several texts from Zayne reminding you to eat, drink and take mandatory breaks; to which you’ve completely ignored and had been running on nothing but the need to get this revision done and over with the entire day.

You didn’t have much time to respond to Zayne’s previous texts before a new one popped up:

Zayne ❄️: I’m coming to pick you up, it’s too dark to be walking home at this time. I’ve been made you some food to eat at home as I know you’ve been occupied by your studies to do so.

You hated how well Zayne knew you but were extremely grateful that he wasn’t annoyed with your habits as of late due to your stress over the exams. You also knew he didn’t condone your lack of eating, sleeping and drinking but you also get on his ass for exactly the same thing when he overworked himself in the hospital, he’s one of the best they had and you’d couldn’t allow him to ignore his own needs and you knew that he wouldn’t let you forgot your either.

And with that you quickly started packing up all your belongings and shoving them back into your bag before playing on your phone for a good while, only for it to be cut short when spotting Zayne stood at the entrance of the library from the corner and immediately perked up. ‘Zayne.’ You said as you ran towards him and gave him a massive hug that he reciprocated with his own as he rubs your back soothingly.

‘You’ve not eaten nor taken any breaks have you at all today?’ He asks and you flinch because of course that’s the first thing he asks.

‘I got a little too deep in studying that by the time I looked up from my notebook it was already nightfall.’ You admitted to him and you heard him sigh before pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘Well it’s a good thing I’ve made you something at home in preparation for this outcome.’ Zayne said in response as he began to guide you out of the library and towards his car parked out front. ‘You’ve done enough hard work for today, allow your body to rest and put your mind at ease for you’ll do well in the exam.’ He adds.

‘What if I fail.’ You asked, scared of that being the outcome.

Zayne moved in front of you, holding your face between his hands as he smiles softly. ‘Then you’ve tried your best and that is more than enough, no need to beat yourself up about results that are yet to come.’ He then kissed your forehead and drove you both back home where you were well fed and fell asleep almost instantly afterwards.

[kiisuuumii]

out of curiosity, why do you want a publishing house to adopt your poetry? what do you think you will feel or get?

i am a poet too and i always debate myself about whether i want my work to be recognized or it’s just enough that i keep writing and doing what i love

for me, barring all other reasons, just wanting is reason enough.

if i want something, why shouldn't i try to chase after it? (which is how i've come to feel about a lot of things now)

but i have so many more selfish reasons.

i want to be able to say, look! i did it! and i want to know what it feels like to be able to hold a finished and bound book that has my name on it, with my art in it. how it would feel in my hands, and in my heart.

how it would be something that i had made. how there's no other feeling quite like the swell of creating, and being presented with the fruit of your labor.

and i think i just want to be seen, doing something i love doing, living (a life i love living). most of my life i'd hidden a varying number of parts of myself from everyone i knew, out of an insecurity that my entirety (my capacity for good, and my capacity for bad [and very bad]) was too much to deal with. i'd grown to hold shame, and hurt, and fear with my heart. and, now, i've grown so tired of doing that. i get nowhere near closer to accepting, and loving, myself, flaws and all, and allowing the opportunity for others to, if i keep doing that.

to have a collection published would be my way of finally opening my arms open to the world, and shouting, this is who i am! who i've been all along! knowing full well that i might be met with silence, or even the same sort of shame from others i fear(ed), and not caring because i am who i am, and i am proud of who i am, and what i can do. i am nothing if not resilient, and stubborn. and quite prideful.

and ultimately, i would, for the rest of my life, hate myself for, and regret, giving up (again). i've been writing (albeit terrible) poetry since i was twelve. as young as nine-year-old stephanie wanted to write her own book. to have a published collection would be to honor my younger self and her dreams, and to put to rest the guilt of ever having abandoned her in the first place.

this is my own liberation, in a lot of different ways.

it's not something i'd ever let myself not achieve.

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Being Destructive

Marvel’s destructive. It’s not even on purpose too. It just happens. He can’t control it. For the most part, that is. Like, he’ll get startled and pull a Castiel from that one episode of Supernatural.

Marvel: *trying to steal some food for Billy*

Flash: “Cap, buddy!”

Marvel: *startles and the lightbulb above them just bursts*

*loud silence*

Flash: “Cap, whose leftovers are those?”

Marvel: *slowly turns around to look at Flash, sure enough, Marvel’s holding a container or Tupperware, with a sticky note that said GL* “Uh… mine?”

Flash: “I can see that they’re Hal’s.”

Marvel: *takes off the sticky note and crumples it in his hand. Then proceeds to fry it with lightning* “What’re you talking about?”

Flash: *a little speechless*

Marvel: “Right… So I’m gonna go. See you, Flash.” *little wave as he walks off*

Billy felt really bad about it, but the kid needed it more than Hal at the moment. Probably. Look, he was running low on money at the moment and hadn’t eaten in a couple days. The hunger pangs were getting to him. He did end up making a bunch of food for Hal in an attempt to apologize.

GL: “Woah, what’s all this?”

Marvel: *in full lightning bolt apron* “Uh… Remember how you were complaining last week about how someone stole your food?”

GL: “Yeah?”

Marvel: “Right, well that was me.”

GL: *dramatic gasp* “I vented to you about that! And you just took it like you were innocent?!”

Marvel: “I know, I know, and I’m sorry. Just eat all the food I made for you. Please?”

GL: *looks to the freaking feast Marvel made for him* “Yeah, okay. I forgive you.” *starts chowing down* “By the way, why’d you steal my foot anyways? I thought you didn’t need to eat.”

Marvel: “I just really needed it at the time.”

GL: “Why?”

Marvel: “Just eat the food, Hal.”

Then, there’s the fact that Billy sometimes forgets he isn’t as small as he usually is. Like, he’s gotten used to it. After all, he’s been Cap for almost four years now. He now unconsciously bends down when entering and exiting through doors due to the fact he’s cracked his head on more doorframes than he can count. This even bled over to Billy who’s only about 5’4 and definitely doesn’t need to do it. But, every now and then as Cap, he’ll slip up and forget he isn’t that little scrawny short kiddo.

JL: *all having a meeting* Marvel: *drops something under the table and leans down the pick it it up*

GA: *immediately grabs his mug of coffee and scoots back from the table*

Other JL members: *watch in confusion as GA scoots back but then watch in slow motion at Marvel tries to get back to his chair and stands up to early. The table slowly starts tilting up and all of their stuff slides to the floor. Marvel then gets out from under the table and the table falls back to the floor with a loud bang*

Marvel: *confused by the loud bang and looks back* “Where’d all your guys’ stuff go?”

GA: *scoots back to table and puts his mug back down* “No idea, bud.”

The reason Green Arrow knew to take his stuff and scoot back is that one time when he got lunch with Cap, he watched in real time as his burger and soda slid off the table when the big man went down to grab a fork he dropped.

Then, there’s the super duper ultra rare times he forgets his own strength. Like, once a year, he’ll break something or someone and then end up having to apologize a lot.

Batman: *shows Marvel an explosive batarang* “These are extremely delicate. If they’re chipped or thrown at someone, they’ll explo-”

Marvel: *reaches over to touch it and accidentally snaps a piece of it off*

*silence*

*beeping noise starts*

Marvel: *panics and breaks the rest of it and shoves it in his mouth, basically eating the explosion, Superman style*

Batman: *stares for a solid minute* “I could’ve turned it off, Captain.”

Marvel: *coughs up smoke looking embarrassed* “Sorry, Mister Batman Sir.”

Batman: *stares for another solid minute* “Can we talk about how your first instinct was to eat it?”

Marvel: “I’d rather not.”

Batman: “I really think we should.”

[kitscutie]

hi! i saw your post about snow omg, can i request a coriolanus x mentor!reader where she’s similar to like clemensia but she’s more close to corio and they have a secret relationship? thank you in advance if you do this rq! love ur tsitp writings sm 🥹

snow and roses: part I (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: first time writing for snow and I'm very excited about it! I've always loved the hunger games and this movie was insane in the best way so please enjoy! I will be making this a series and this is only part one so stay tuned for the rest!

word count: 2.2k

join my taglist here.

"You're going to get it Coryo, don't stress." You soothed the boy as you sat next to him. It was barely even six in the morning and the pair of you had woken up, well he had woken up and you with him as he blatantly needed your support, desperate for the Plinth Prize.

You didn't need the prize, already coming from a wealthy Capitol family and yet you felt the same hope that he would win as you would for yourself, stomach twisting into knots at the thought.

"There's good candidates Y/N, it feels as if the odds are already stacked against me." He sighed, leaning over as he sat so his elbows rested on his knees, head in his hands.

"The odds are in your favour Coryo, you're special. Different." With that he looked at you, a small smile gracing his pale lips. He leaned up kissing you gently, fully embracing the special moment before he got up from his place next to you.

"I'll see you at the Academy?" He asked, knowing you had to leave quickly back to your own house in order to change but also in order to avoid the suspicions of your own family who had no idea of your relationship with Snow.

"Of course." You replied, also standing up and pulling on last nights clothes as you left.

You studied the dark an empty halls of his house, ensuring Grandma'am was nowhere to be seen before you quickly walked to the door, exiting un-noticed until Tigris came around the corner, seemingly equally in a rush and holding a shirt you knew must be for Coriolanus.

"Oh, hello Y/N." She smirked as you both stopped, unsure how to approach the conversation. She was one of the only people who knew something was going on between the pair of you and still she wasn't quite sure what it was.

"Hi Tigris. You look lovely today." You said quietly, feeling like a scolded child even though you hadn't done anything wrong.

"Well if you're here I can only assume Coryo is awake, I'll see you again I assume?" She replied.

"Yes and yes." You answered awkwardly before hurrying away once again, letting out a sigh of relief as you heard her enter the house. You could only hope she wouldn't mention your interaction to Coriolanus.

You walked into the Academy at the same time as you did everyday, conveniently when Coriolanus would also show up.

"Coryo!" You yelled, spotting him across the room. He turned his head to you as though it was a surprise to see you, it wasn't.

"Y/N. What a pleasure." He smiled with his typical Snow charm, allowing you to link your arm with his.

"How are you feeling?" You asked him, thumb gently rubbing his bicep through his shirt. You rounded the corner past the food and yet you both avoided it for different reasons. You having already been fed by your family and their lavish lifestyle and he too nervous to even look at it.

"Never felt better." He replied with false confidence but no one else around you had to know that.

"Snow always lands on top." You teased as you entered the hall, spotting your friends if that's what you could call them stood in the centre of it all, as they usually did, talking about everyone around them no doubt.

"Y/N and Coriolanus, finally some real competition has arrived." Said Arachne, a glass in her hand and a smirk on her face as she always seemed to appear in public.

"Be humble now Arachne, you never know who will be chosen." You smiled, turning on your Capitol attitude in order to fit in. You were Capitol born and raised but your family taught you to be humble and kind. It was clear this wasn't common among parents here.

"Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous." Said Felix, it made you chuckle how he used such a word to describe food.

"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers Felix, daddy not teach you table manners?" Snarled Festus, it was as though there was always a secret competition between the two of them, never quite made clear, never making sense.

"Maybe he would've if he wasn't so busy running the country. Hey they called us here for the Plinth prize right? 'Cause I heard Doctor Gaul's in the building." Felix changed the subject, knowing he had won. It was impossible to lose as the President's son you supposed.

You hadn't noticed but now Felix had mentioned it you took in the strange atmosphere, tense and mystery lingering in the air. "That is peculiar." You said, holding onto Coryo's bicep tighter subconsciously.

"Plinth. Look at his spawn. Who would've thought you could buy your way into the Academy." Felix once again snarled, he was always filled with such anger though it seemed todays anxiety only heightened this.

"Well you can't buy class. Did you see his mothers outfit? Sorry his Ma's." Festus joked, seemingly over his small tiff with Felix.

"Dress a turnip in a ball gown and it'll still beg to be mashed." Said Coriolanus, playing into their pompous ways. You knew he didn't agree, not really.

"Don't do that we all know you like him." Arachne spat with her spider like venom, raising her eyebrows at Coriolanus.

"I don't like him Arachne, I tolerate him. He's district." Said Coriolanus and he seemed pleased with his answer as you felt him relax under your touch. You however did like Sejanus and weren't afraid to show it.

"If I hear one more time how immoral these Hunger Games are I'll put him in the arena mys- Sejanus. You made it to the Reaping for once." Festus cut himself off, caught by Sejanus himself.

"And you made it to graduation Festus, we're both shocked." Sejanus replied and you couldn't help but snicker, hiding it as you realised no one else shared the same reaction. "Y/N, always a pleasure." He smiled at you politely. You couldn't help but note the way Coryo's jaw clenched, neck twitching as he looked at you to gaze your reaction.

"As are you Sejanus." You nodded. Arachne scoffed quickly mentioning the only thing she really cared about, the prize.

"Spill it, who won the prize." She asked.

"Well, no I'm not gonna ruin my father's big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money." He once again hit back at the group around him, you felt sorry for the boy. Alone in a room full of people. "You know what that's like don't you Arachne?" He dug the hole deeper and you internally smirked, grateful someone was brave enough to stand up to a powerful woman like Arachne.

As the Captiol's anthem began to play you made your way to your seats, sat next to Coriolanus you placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered 'good luck' in his ear, though you didn't really think he needed it.

Doctor Gaul's chuckle resounded around the room in a menacing echo that always managed to make you shrink into your seat.

She commended you all for being star students before untroducing the creator of the games: Casca Highbottom.

He went on to tell you all that today was not the day the prize would be given out but instead there would be one more task to challenge you all and gage your true worth. Everyone seemed confused but not Sejanus.

"What's going on?" You whispered to Coriolanus. He sensed your anxiety placing a calming hand on your knee but gave you no other response which reassured you that you had not been left completely in the dark.

"The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who was the best grades. But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games." With that there was outrage, to you it was dehumanizing for the tributes, 'mentored' by people their own age but for the others they only seemed to care whether they were given someone strong or weak. A 'runt' in Arachne's words.

The reaping commenced and you couldn't help but wish to be anywhere but here. You didn't want to do this, you didn't need the money yet you were forced to have another's life in your hands.

You got a small girl from 8 named Wovey, seeing her face on the big screen left you determined, determined to help her in anyway you could on the path to being a victor. Even if that meant Coryo may lose the prize.

Snow's tribute left the room in horror, her stage presence and brutality sent shivers down your spine, though you supposed that the outer Districts had it harder and that sort of survival must be built into her.

Standing up on shaky legs you grabbed Coriolanus up from his chair and outside of the room, you needed fresh air and you needed to talk to him about what you were about to face, arguably harder than any other test the Capitol could give you.

"Slow down Y/N, I can hardly keep up." He said, words laced with worry.

"I don't believe I can do this Coryo, did you see my tribute? She's hardly eligible for school never mind to be put into an arena where she's going to be killed. She's only a child." You paced while he leant against a pillar, beginning to eat some food he a had smuggled from the buffet table.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice Y/N." He tried to help but only made it worse as you realised you were trapped in yet another one of the Capitol's games. He seemingly realised this. "Hey, hey. If there as anyone in that room who would get that tribute, I'm glad it was you. Arachne would've given up on her by now. With you she has a fighter. A chance at surviving." He said while grabbing your wrists to stop your pacing.

"It's not that simple Coryo-" You tried but he cut you off.

"It is Y/N." He said sternly and you understood what he meant. It was either play into their games or become apart of them, no other choice. "You're a born winner Y/N, give her some of it hm?" He stared down at you as he spoke and his blue eyes while at times piercing sucked you in, heart rate lowering almost immediatley.

"Okay." You said.

"Okay." He smiled, reaching a hand around your neck to bring you into a kiss. It started off slow and caring though quickly intensified as he turned you both around so now you leant against the pillar instead of him.

His hand tightened around your neck, not enough to actually cut off air but just enough to make you feel dizzy as he pushed his body further into yours, keeping you against the cold cement and trapped in his arms.

Your mouths clashed together intensely, tongues colliding in a rhythm you though you would only ever be able to find with him in this lifetime. He was your everything, your light in a blizzard.

"Ahem." Coughed Casca, drawing the two of you away from each other with baited breaths and rosy cheeks. "Just like your father, yes we were best friends. Once." He said, and with that it felt like you weren't even in the room.

"Tell me Mr Snow, what are your plans after these games?" Casca asked.

"I hope to go onto the university sir, naturally." Coriolanus answered, pulling his waistcoat straight where it had been wrinkled by your tight grip.

"And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?" Asked Casca, it suddenly became clear to you that he knew something, just what he knew you were unsure of.

"We'd pay the tuition of course." He scoffed, insulted at Casca's insinuation even if it was true.

"Look at you, in your makeshift shirt and too tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snow's don't have a pot to piss in." Casca said. You felt your own heart drop and so you couldn't imagine how Coriolanus felt, the insult to his pride was one you knew he wouldn't take well and so you grabbed his hand subtly, hiding it behind your back as to not show any sign of weakness to Casca.

"Goodluck with that poor little Songbird." He said, and with that he left. Leaving you to do damage control.

"Ignore him Coryo, he's trying to get into your head." You reassured him, moving a Snow white hair from his face. His jaw looked similar to the way it did earlier when Sejanus had so much as acknowledged your presence.

"He's right Y/N. From the moment my father died I lost. The odds were never in my favour." He spat out, though his actions didn't match his words as he gently removed your hand from his hair before beginning his exit of the Academy. "Come on now Y/N, I've got a songbird to catch." He said sarcastically.

You sped after him hoping Casca's words hadn't knocked him too much, after all, Snow lands on top and he wouldn't be the one to change that.

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @suvgs, @charmed-asylum

[celestialowlbear]

Give You Everything

Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Reader (Tav)

Summary: Halsin gives you some morning loving. No plot. Just fluffy smut. 💕

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Oral (fem receiving), mentions of m receiving.

WC: ~1300

A/N: My hand slipped. Oops. 😏 I have no reason for this besides Halsin consuming my thoughts by being the big sexy romantic he is. This takes place years after the end of BG3, however you may imagine it. Maybe Tav and Halsin live in a cottage in the woods? Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what you think!

You wake to Halsin’s lips on yours, tasting vaguely of honey and figs he must have snacked on before gently rousing you. 

You stirred, eyes opening as you stretched under the animal furs you were tucked into. 

“No need to rise, my love.” Halsin kissed your exposed shoulder. “I’m coming back to join you.”

Halsin often woke with the sun, greeting the day with a stroll in his bear form. You usually joined him, but he must have let you sleep this morning. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You mumbled, turning toward him, realizing the sun had already risen based on the bright light speckling through the paned window. 

“You looked so peaceful, I did not want to disturb your dreams.”

Halsin huddled his face into your neck, inhaling your scent, gently tracing his large hand up your arm. 

“Not to mention, I wanted to keep you in bed.” 

Halsin’s hand lazily trailed up your torso, reverently cupping your breast and giving it a light squeeze. 

“Is that right, my bear?” You chuckled, a faint sigh departing your lips immediately after as Halsin brushed his thumb over your hardening nipple. 

“Why, oh why, would you want to keep me in bed on such a lovely morning?” You hovered your lips close to his in a teasing manner, catching his eye that was tinted with a familiar hunger. 

“It is best I show you, my heart.” Halsin rumbled as he maneuvered himself on top of you momentarily, pulling the furs off your body. 

You were naked, as that is how you slept together. He was naked as well, shedding his clothing from his morning walkabout to join you once again in bed.

Halsin ran his hands down your thighs, taking worshipful handfuls of your supple skin. 

He paused, gazing over you. 

“Always so perfect. Nothing, nothing in all of nature could ever compare to you.”

Halsin brought his lips down to your inner thigh, maintaining eye contact as he kissed your flushed skin. 

“As the sun rose, I was reminded of you.” He slowly made his way up toward your core, dampening with anticipation. 

“A bright light to guide me to new beginnings. Through any hardship or affliction, I know you will always be my rising sun.” 

You still blushed at his words, even after years together.

Halsin never held back on his feelings for you, constantly reminding you how deeply he loved you, and how thankful he was to have you by his side. 

You reminded him as well, holding dear the bashful look that always crossed his face when doing so. He was a gentle soul at heart. All the more reason to remind him of your love, and let him care for you. 

“Was that all you were thinking of this morning?” You whispered, a coy smile turning up your lips, watching him make his way to your center.  

Halsin chuckled deeply against your skin, his breath now ghosting over your center, the smell of your arousal stirring the beast within him. 

“Perhaps not…I was also reminiscing of the night before last…the sounds that left your lips that evening have not left my mind.” 

Halsin brought a finger between your folds, gently circling and exploring. 

“I would greatly enjoy hearing those sounds again. If you permit me…” Halsin kissed your clit, his tongue softly probing, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he felt your body squirm and legs tremble by his head. 

“Yes, Halsin, always for you…”

You threaded your fingers in his hair as he went to work, slowly licking and sucking at your now thoroughly soaked pussy. 

Halsin was in no rush, enjoying every gasp and soft mewl and twitch of your legs as he feasted. 

He carefully moved your legs over his massive shoulders to gain better access, holding you in place. 

At this point, Halsin knew your body even better than you did.

He knew exactly what made you squirm, what made you beg for more, what made you get intensely lost in pleasure. 

You knew the same of his body, knowing his most sensitive parts, what pushed him to the limit of his control. 

Halsin had never truly been as vulnerable with anyone else in his long life as he is with you. 

You knew every part of him, his deepest fears, the darkest corners of his mind. You helped him through his anguish all that time ago, helped him see clearly for the first time in his life. 

You held and protected his heart as delicately as one would a newly hatched bird. 

He owed everything to you. 

“Halsin…” your grip on his hair tightened, tugging in just the way he liked. “More, please…”

Halsin hummed into you in response, knowing he was teasing you by going slowly. He treasured tasting you like this, the sweetest nectar in nature could never compare.

It was a taste he craved daily. 

He didn’t want to be too selfish, though. He knew you were desperate for release. 

How could he ever deny you such ecstasy?

Halsin picked up his pace, switching between circling your clit with his tongue and fucking you as deep as he could go with his warm muscle. 

You cried out, the fire in your belly growing. You knew Halsin was aching between his legs, his body begging for his release. 

Sometimes, getting you off like this was enough, coming to his end without touch. 

You hoped you could taste him, though, to give back what he so selflessly offers to you. 

The sounds were obscene as he lost himself between your legs, mixing with your trembling moans and cries. He was wildly lapping and licking and stroking with his tongue, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. 

“H-Halsin I’m-I’m so close, don’t stop!” You managed to coherently string together one sentence, the molten coil in your belly threatening to explode with each pass of his tongue. 

You were gripping his hair with both hands now, bucking up at him to get the most pressure possible as your climax was rushing toward you. 

Halsin was growling against your pussy, his chin dripping with your slick, his hips instinctually bucking for any type of friction against his cock. 

Your body was shaking and Halsin knew you were about to explode. 

You came with a cry of his name, chanting it like a prayer to the Gods as you fell over the precipice of bliss. Halsin didn’t let up, keeping up his ministrations, drinking up your essence.   

Halsin didn’t want to waste one drop of your pleasure. 

Your body spasmed, toes curling as your mind went blank. 

Soon, the flicks of his tongue were becoming too much, coming down from your heaven. 

You gently pushed him away and Halsin lifted his head, his eyes flashing gold momentarily as his eyes locked on your body, licking his lips, savoring your taste. 

“Beautiful, my heart. Perfection.” 

You were trying to catch your breath, your body gelatinous. You motioned for him to come back on top of you. 

Halsin crawled up your body, hovering over you. You lifted your head, capturing his lips to yours in a fervent kiss of thanks. Your tongues danced, Halsin immediately submitting to your passion. Your hands grasped at his back, pulling him down into you. 

Halsin let out a deep groan as you rubbed your sensitive pussy on his throbbing cock. 

“Take me, my love. Take your pleasure, too.” You nibbled at his bottom lip, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“Believe me when I say I get my greatest pleasure from watching you come undone on my tongue.” He replied, breaking the kiss momentarily.

“Let me do the same, then.” You smiled against his lips, bringing a hand down to grasp his rigid, thick length. “Come undone on my tongue.”

Halsin shuddered and let out a low moan at your touch, your hand gliding over his hot, velvety skin. 

Halsin nipped at your chin, flipping you both so you were on top of him, your legs barely able to straddle his wide body. 

“You know I cannot deny you anything, my heart.” 

You smiled sweetly, sliding down his body, watching his eyes glow gold at the anticipation of your touch, ready to return him the favor.

-ˏˋ⋆ Thanks for reading, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! ⋆ˊˎ-

[cosmicschmidt]

UNTIL I FOUND YOU (3)

PART 1, PART 2

Coriolanus Snow x fem!Reader

Synopsis: When the 18 year old Coriolanus Snow recieves the news that he has to mentor a tribute in order to claim the Plinth Prize, he expected everything but not a shy girl from district 12 to claim his heart.

Word count: 2,7K

Warnings: Reader pretty much just replaces Lucy Gray, Lucy Gray does not exsist in this (I´m sorry), some things might not fully add up to the movie plot ´cause I only saw it once and that was two weeks ago, use of Y/N, it´s implied that the reader is shorter than Coryo, small swearing, simple inhumane Hunger Games topics, mention of a wound, brutality!!

Reblogs and requests are always welcomed <3 (just like pointing out grammatical mistakes :))

Previously…

"Wait-" Y/N grabs a hold of his free wrist.

"Can you get us some food? Please? We´re practically starving."

Coriolanus just nodded at her quietly, the space between the both of them growing as he pulled away from her. The girl suddenly feels empty without him standing next to her like a shield that´s been protecting her has been taken away.

The reporter - whose name seems to be Lucky Flickermann - now turned back to the cage ends his live report,

"The 10th annual Hunger Games are soon approaching, so come down to the Zoo and see the Tributes before it´s too late." he does a dramatic pause.

"And I mean, too late," he adds with a small smirk.

"Capitol news."

"I´m Lucretius.", he looks up to the sky before stretching out his hand and catching a coin.

"Lucky Flickermann." with that the live report ends.

Y/N´s words ring in Coriolanus´ ears for the next few hours, during the lecture and confrontation with Dr. Gaul, the second he reached the cafeteria, he put as much food as possible on his plate, filling it with various goods.

Multiple students chatter around him, but he´s not up for a debate about whose tribute will win, never the less just a simple conversation, the thought of it alone brings Coriolanus discomfort. So his eyes scatter across the filled room, and when he spots a small empty two-seat table he walks over to it and sits down.

As he takes a seat he waits for a second, the feeling of someone watching him never leaving since he collected a plate and filled it with a bunch of food, the view of it alone causing his stomach to erupt into quiet rumbling.

With a quick look around, checking if someone is watching him, he takes hold of the blue napkin and places it on his lap, his hands spring into action and he places a few cookies into the blue fabric.

"Trying to fatten that poor girl up, so you can finally start taking bets?" a voice right across from the small table pulls him out of his thoughts. Before him stands Sejanus, a look of anger displayed on his face, while his hands hold him up on the table.

Coriolanus stops in his tracks, Sejanus´ tone something he does not need right now.

"You think, they´ll give these kids a schap if we don´t give them a reason to do it." although it was meant as a question, the way Coriolanus´ tone changed throughout speaking made it seem like a simple statement.

"How do you think your Tribute will have a chance if he can´t eat." the mention of Marcus causes the look in Sejanus' eyes to soften, Coriolanus knew what to say in order to convince his… friend.

A short moment of silence washes over their conversation, Sejanus lets out a sigh before sitting down on the still-empty chair, his eyes not finding the blue eyes that bore into the side of his face.

"He was my classmate. Back in 2…" Sejanus says in a low voice.

In return, Coriolanus takes a look across the room.

"It's not your fault he's there-" Coriolanus speaks up, shaking his head a little.

"I know. I'm so blameless I'm choking on it. My father bought him for me you know, at the reaping… just so he can show me, that I could never go back to 2." Coriolanus stays quiet, as he watches the Brown haired boy tear up, guilt eating away at him.

"But being Capitol is gonna kill me," he adds, his head shaking slightly, his gaze empty.

"So do something about it." Coriolanus cuts in, his expression stern.

He just continues filling the napkin with a few slices of a sandwich, the look on his face challenging Sejanus to do the same.

"You're quite the Rebell." the brown-haired boy laughs out, before he whipes his nose, blinking once then twice in the hope of no tears falling.

"Oh, I am. I'm bad news." the blonde replies, a teasing tone to his words. All Sejanus can do is chuckle softly, before his own hands grab a soft napkin.

-

Both of them find themselves getting closer and closer to the 'zoo' where the Tributes are held against their will, displayed for everyone to inspect. From far away, the mentor of the girl from District 12 was able to make out the crowd that formed around the metal bars.

Coriolanus can't help but let his eyes wander, his blue orbs desperately trying to catch a glimpse of Y/N, as he takes big strides away from Sejanus as both of them part for the purpose of finding their tribute.

"Marcus!" he heard in the distance, but the voice was blurred.

Coriolanus can't focus on the rest of the words that leave Sejanus' mouth, as his eyes linger on the metal bars that separate him from her. He finally spots her, his tense shoulders relaxing a tad bit. The left side of her body is pressed against Jessup's, while Y/N's hand lays on the side of his neck. Both of them sitting on a rock with their backs to the crowd.

Coriolanus can tell that her mouth is moving, yet he can't seem to grasp onto what she's whispering in the ear of the boy who sits next to her. The blonde can't help but clench his jaw at the scene unfolding before his eyes, as his hands wrap a notch tighter around the food-filled fabric.

"Y/N" he speaks up, finally trusting his voice enough to do so.

The H/C-haired girl's eyes catch her mentor's quiet whisper, her head snapping to the side facing him. The small simile that spreads across her face does not go unnoticed by Coriolanus, as she brushes off her clothes. With small, yet quick steps she finally closes the distance between them.

His hands twitch beside his body, the urge to feel her skin against his resurfacing, as their eye contact never fades.

"You remembered?"

"Hmm?" Coriolanus hums, his eyes not leaving her face, she throws him a questioning look at his speechless expression.

"Oh right, right. I got this for you." he quickly says, the weight of the food in his hands leaving the second he places the napkin in her hands, their fingers touching for a split second, sending a shiver down his back.

Y/N herself can't help but feel her face warm at the contact, but she hides her face a little as she looks down at the meal in her hands. Within seconds she unwraps the cookies and the sandwich slices.

"Thank you, this will help us a lot."

"Us?" the boy from the Capitol mutters under his breath, wondering why you would even think about sharing the food he just gave you.

"Common, Jessup, eat," Y/N says with a nod of her head, her hand offering him a piece of some expensive-looking dish.

"'m not hungry," he mutters under his breath, his eyes staring daggers in Coriolanus' direction.

"No I insist, you have to eat." she pushes the food into his hands, and he throws her a thankful smile alongside a nod, yet before he walks back to the rock they sat on, he throws Coriolanus another look.

The mentioned boy holds the stare, and as Jessup turns away, his eyes land on a small wound that rests right underneath his ear. His brows furrow in confusion.

"What happened to his neck?"

Y/N gulps, her eyes not finding his.

"Bat bite. First night on the train." she nods sadly, her mind going back to when it happened.

"He didn't sleep a wink on the journey, making sure to keep the bats off so I can get some rest…" The girl's words grow quieter, her eyes trailing to the left as they find a Capitol girl making fun of the girl from District 10.

Y/N frowns when she observes the 'mentor' taunt her own tribute, holding a water bottle in her direction only to withdraw it when she reaches out to grab it. Y/N clenches her jaw at the sight.

"I learned in twelve that hunger is a weapon."

"Your friend over there sure knows it…"

"She's not my friend she is.." he thinks for a second, "..Poison with perfect teeth."

The girl from District 12 lets out a laugh, yet it's not fully genuine, her eyes fall back onto the food in her palms, a sickening feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. Meanwhile, Coriolanus grabs a hold of the metal bar, as he leans forward looking down at her.

"Are you going to share everything that I give to you with Jessup?" he asks, his breath fanning along a strand of loose hair, their close proximity making it possible for him to whisper.

"Why?" the girl's eyes widened in confusion at his question.

"Think I can collect my strengths so I can strangle them in the arena? Coriolanus, I can not kill these people.." she hisses out, her words make her look almost helpless, and again the blonde feels the urge to reach out and grab her hand.

"But I might have a chance to help you," he replies quickly, his eyes somehow holding ambition.

"There is a possibility that I can make some suggestions to the game makers, I might even be able to let the audience send gifts into the arena. Food and water…" he mumbles assuringly, his head nodding along his words.

"Listen, the people can donate to you, so you have to convince them to like you, which they already do. You're the first to volunteer, ever, and for your sister too, that kind of stuff catches attention," he says enthusiastically.

"I don't want to talk about that, what I did there was no choice, I had to do that. Don't you understand?" she asks slightly taken back, her brows furring in bewilderment.

"Besides, I've seen the arena, there's nowhere to hide, what's the point in winning the audience over? The guards say you get money if you get more people to watch, and you say you want to help me… which is it?" she asks unsure, her eyes boring into his, as she rests her own hand on one of the cold metal bars, awaiting his response.

Coriolanus' mouth parts, yet no words escape, before his gaze lands on her hand, so close to his, and before he can stop himself his palm engulfs her smaller hand.

"Both," he states with confidence, as he gives her a firm nod, letting her know that he truly means it. Y/N breathes out in relief, as she nods back at him, the warmth of his calloused hands bringing her comfort. Yet, she wiggles her hand out from under his slightly tightening grasp, taking a sandwich and taking a bite, her stomach screaming at her to finish the whole meal.

As she continues to chew, she catches Coriolanus looking at the food in her grasp, when she catches his stare, he expeditiously averts his gaze, looking around as if she didn't just catch him ogling. Without a word, she takes one of the cookies and hands it to him through the bars.

"Oh, no thank you." he refuses to take the baked good from her.

"Saw you staring, just take it," she says with a shrug of her shoulders.

He hesitantly takes it from her, as the both of them lower to the ground in order to eat while sitting.

"Thought there was plenty of food in the Capitol," she asks, although it did not sound like a question, more like a fact that she simply stated. Her eyes are still on the sandwich in her grasp, while Coriolanus himself breaks the cookie in two, eating the first half of it in one bite.

He lets out a laugh at her statement, her words throwing him years back to the war.

"You know one time during the war, I ate a whole jar of paste. Just to stop the pain in my stomach." Y/N scrunches her nose in disgust.

"Well, how was it?"

He thinks for a moment, a smile forming on his lips, "Pasty." he laughs out, and Y/N can't help but let a giggle slip out as well before she muffles it with another bite of the food. Coriolanus' eyes stay on her, his eyes glimmering in amusement.

But the small moment dies when the girl looks away, her head turning slightly as she looks over her shoulder, the blonde's eyes follow hers.

"Little Wovey… she's so sweet… wouldn't hurt a fly… she reminds me of my sister…" she says, her head turning away from the little girl that currently rests against her district partner who looks deep in thought. Y/N swallows thickly at the thought of her little sister, now all on her own at home, having to watch her only relative die in the games. The thought alone causes the corners of her eyes to burn, yet she won't allow herself to shed one tear, not one, she promised her.

"I'm sorry…" the blonde whispers, as his face holds concern and guilt, he sends her a small assuring smile in order to lighten her mood.

"You seem like a good man, Coriolanus," Y/N claims.

Coriolanus slightly shakes his head, his eyes everywhere but never meeting her own. It seems like he's about to say something, but Y/N interrupts him.

"It would have been nice to meet you under different circumstances," she quickly adds, her eyes on the almost completely eaten sandwich, while she fidgets with her fingers.

"How about… we make a deal," he replies.

"A deal?" she asks, her eyes snapping back up to meet his blue ones.

"Yes. After all of this… I'll take you out on a date," he says with a serious tone. His hand reaches through the bars as it wraps around one of her wrists.

She laughs out at his 'deal', "Yeah, exactly, have a drink or two, very funny." she laughs again in disbelief while rolling her eyes at his attempt to lighten the mood, although that's pretty impossible.

"I'm serious."

"Have you seen these people? I don't stand a chance, I'll be dead within minutes in the arena, I never learned how to fight or hunt, my chances are practically zero." she huffs out, her free hand wrapping around his hand that is holding her other hand, attempting at pulling him off.

Yet his grip tightens, "I'm being serious like I said before, maybe I can change some rules, bend some even, I don't care, we'll go on that date," he says again.

Just as Y/N opens her mouth, a response at the tip of her tongue ready to be released, a scream erupts through the air.

Brandy, the tribute that had been taunted by her mentor, grabbed the bottle out of the glass, as she took hold of the mentor's collar pulling her closer with an angry yell. With a quick smash, she shatters the bottle into pieces and uses the remains as a weapon, forcefully stabbing it into the side of her neck. The already red-dressed girl is now covered in more red.

The screams alerted every individual around them, as other people screamed in horror at the brutality.

Y/N can't help but gasp in shock, just like Coriolanus she's back on her feet, her eyes trained on the girl on the ground gasping for air.

Coriolanus runs up right to the other mentor's side, using his hands to put pressure on the wound as a horrified expression spreads all over his features.

"It's okay. it's okay, I'll get help," he mutters out of breath, frantically looking out for someone who would provide what she needs.

"Somebody help us please!" after his plea, the sound of guns firing runs through the air, and with a thump, Brandy holds onto her stomach before hitting the ground, dead.

At the sound of shooting, Coriolanus hides his face underneath his arms, shielding himself from bullets that could hit him at any given moment. As he slowly raises back up, the horrified expression returns to his face, he watches the life drain from Arachne's face, her skin growing paler.

"Oh…no, no.." he rasps out, the events leave him speechless, and before he can register it, Peacekeepers roughly grab him by the arm and pull him up from the ground away from the lifeless body.

Taglist: (Crossed-out can’t be tagged)

@prettybliss | @unclecrunkle | @yourlocalwofreader | @ennycutie | @unamused-boss | @spatt777 | @xyzstar | @especiallythewomenandthechildren | @mysteris-things | @crackheadhours | @guacam011y | @clintssupremacy | @importantgalaxyrunaway | @zucchinimalfoy |

[shomatoriashi]

10/19/24; 06:53pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ they comfort you while you’re feeling insecure ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

warnings: dieting is mentioned in sylus’s story. if this is a major trigger for any of you readers, then you don’t need to read this story ♡

it was such a mystery why sylus chose to be with you, of all people.

deep down, you knew he could pick any woman in the entire universe-

so why did he have to settle down with someone as plain as you?

why did you feel like a sack of potatoes while standing next to sylus?

why did the haughty laughter that came from the usual women sylus made business deals with affect you so much?

a particularly bad memory resurfaces, and you bite down harshly at your bottom lip, recalling a time where sylus had invited you to a business dinner with him. while he spoke about plans of expanding onychinus, the mafia boss’ daughter sneered at you, her slender yet curvaceous body made you feel worse about your own self image. you barely picked at your plate of food, knowing that you were far from being slender, and you became increasingly aware of how the curve of your abdomen could be seen from your tight dress.

needless to say, you didn’t have much of an appetite after that meeting.

with the memory of that woman’s sneer still fresh in your mind, you decided to diet a bit while cutting down the amount of foods you ate. you no longer snacked on your favorite sweets and tried to eat more steamed vegetables, avoiding carbs and proteins altogether. you figured since vegetables were like a superfood, then you’d be able to drop down some pounds and obtain a much better figure-

one that was more suited to remain by sylus’s side.

a week into your new diet, you did feel a bit lighter, and as you watched the pounds decrease, you had plans of further decreasing your calorie count-

however, sylus manages to put a hard stop to it. while you were making a simple dinner that consisted of a plain salad, sylus was felt sneaking up from behind you, trapping your form from behind him. you gasp and look up at him, feeling the way his large hand encircles around your wrist.

“s-sylus? what are you doing?” your eyes were wide, watching as he remains silent all while holding your wrist within the palm of his hand.

“you’ve lost some weight.” sylus tells you with his eyebrows furrowed. he takes a hold of your chin and forces you to look at him, “and don’t think for a minute that i haven’t noticed the change in your diet. although steamed vegetables and salads are good for you, they’re not enough to sustain you.”

hearing the concern in his voice makes you break down immediately. the hunger pangs came back to you at full force, making you wince as you land against sylus. “s-sorry, it’s just… i always feel so bad when i stand next to you.”

tears were streaming down your face, and sylus merely hums in response, taking you in his arms while allowing you to vent about your feelings.

“i-i’ve never really been too skinny… because of my appetite. and i guess… it’s just, being next to you and seeing all the women that’s part of your world- it bothers me how i’m not like them, and-“

sylus then silences the rest of your words with a searing kiss. he would not listen or tolerate you speaking down to yourself ever again, and as your lover, it was his responsibility to make sure you felt beautiful every single minute.

once he was certain you had calmed down, he pulls away from the kiss first, resting his forehead against yours while saying your name in an almost exasperated manner.

“there’s a reason why i never wish to be with those women, and that’s because they can never be you. i wish you could see yourself through my eyes and realize just how beautiful you are to me.”

tears began filling your vision, making sylus smile sweetly at you as he gently caresses at your hair, “you don’t need to do anything- to change anything about yourself. what i feel for you is, and always will be, something unconditional. so please, don’t starve yourself and cut out the nutrients you need. you need to eat a thick steak to build your muscles and maintain your energy. pasta and bread can help with filling you up, and i know how much you love sharing ice cream sundaes with me as well.”

feeling so grateful at having such a wonderful boyfriend like sylus, you lean up to press another lingering kiss against his lips, all while telling him, “ah, a steak with some buttered rolls and a salad sounds so good right now.”

sylus lets out a rich chuckle, pressing a kiss against your hair before heading towards the stove all while rolling up his sleeves, “you got it, sweetheart.”

when you woke up this morning, you felt distracted by your reflection, feeling a shudder run down your spine at seeing the various acne that littered your face.

never one to have clear skin, you found yourself pouting at your reflection. as you looked at the new patches of acne settled against your cheek, you frown. it wasn’t like you didn’t take care of your skin. every night, after you showered, you always made sure to wash your face while keeping it moisturized while doing your usual routine-

yet that didn’t seem to be enough, as you always seemed to breakout at the most inopportune times. perhaps today was a bit more meaningful since zayne’s parents were going to stop by the house and have dinner with the both of you.

you had never met zayne’s parents before, and the fact that he invited them over just to finally meet you was both endearing and overwhelming for you. deep down, you were afraid that his parents would reject you, labeling you as beneath their son while harshly telling him that he could do so much better than you.

those self deprecating thoughts kept repeating themselves within your mind, causing you to panic. leaning closer to the mirror, you focused on the patch of acne and tried to pop each and every one of them. it felt like your hands kept clawing at your face, making your eyes water as you tried to get rid of the acne the best way that you knew how to.

you jump slightly upon hearing a knock at the door, hearing zayne’s voice calling out your name before entering the bathroom. he sees the tears in your eyes and how your fingertips were placed against the bumps seen on your cheek.

he frowns, shutting the door from behind him while taking quick strides towards you. “what are you doing?”

your lips began to tremble, giving zayne a defeated expression as you angrily wiped away at your tears. “s-sorry, i just… i feel so mad right now, with my face breaking out like this. and i’m going to see your parents soon, and i look like a mess. i’m terrified that they’re going to compare me to you and say that you deserve so much better-!”

zayne suddenly cuts you off by bringing you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight embrace while drawing comforting circles behind your back. you cling to him like a lifeline, allowing the tears to stain at the front of his shirt.

“don’t ever speak that way about yourself ever again.” zayne tells you in a whisper, pressing a kiss against your temple before framing at your face. he takes a moment to admire your features all while running the pad of his thumb against the patch of acne seen against your skin.

“these… don’t bother me at all. to me, you have always been achingly beautiful in my eyes. and that is never going to change. the whole reason i wanted to invite my parents over was so that they could meet you and know that i am serious about you- about us.”

he smiles down at you, taking in your cute pout before leaning closer to press a chaste kiss against your lips, “now, don’t pick at them anymore. give them some time to heal, and just make sure you wash your face every day to help.”

feeling immensely better now, you throw your arms around zayne, pulling him close as you giggled, allowing him to pick you up as he headed towards the walk in shower, “did you wish to shower together? perhaps then, i could show you just how beautiful you are to me.”

and truly, who were you to deny the love of your life?

to say you were amazed at managing to capture xavier’s heart would be the understatement of the century. in fact, how you both met was under some unorthodox conditions.

you had simply been running errands when an outbreak of wanderers were seen just a few blocks away from you. you had unknowingly stepped into danger, and when you were close to get attacked by one of the monsters-

xavier had appeared before you, slashing away at the wanderer with his weapon. he keeps himself in front of you, not daring to move away from you until the threat has been eliminated. throughout it all, you were in a daze, simply admiring how swift and deadly xavier’s movements were as he dealt with the rest of the wanderers.

only when the coast was clear did he finally meet your gaze. “are you okay?”

you could only manage to give him a nod, ready to thank him when a stern voice breaks through, “xavier, is everything alright on your end?”

you look back to see a stern, but beautiful woman taking quick strides the hunter you assumed was known as xavier. he sheathed his weapon and gives the woman a slight bow. “yes, i’ve dealt with the wanderers here on the eastern part of the city.”

“good. i’ll go ahead and assess the damage with the others.” she runs a hand across her sandy brown hair, leaving you alone with xavier. trying to ignore your own features and how plain you felt in comparison to the woman, you thank xavier for protecting you before telling him you would head home.

the young hunter prevents you from leaving him, gently encircling his hand around your wrist. “wait, let me escort you home, just to be safe.”

seeing the way his sapphire eyes were shining brightly against the sunlight made your knees feel weak for him. giving him a stiff nod, you allow xavier to walk with you back to your apartment complex, convincing yourself that this would be the first and last time you would see him.

so imagine your surprise when he walks with you up to your apartment all while sweetly asking you if you’d like to go out on a date with him sometime. of course, you were filled with shock, remaining flabbergasted as you struggled to find the right words to say.

yet at the end of it all, you accepted his offer for a date. and one date turns into two dates, then three-

and you found yourself remaining together with xavier for close to a year now.

you couldn’t understand what xavier saw in you, since each time you would see xavier work at the association, you became achingly aware of how gorgeous his female coworkers were. this left you feeling a little more than inadequate, wondering why you agreed to be with xavier when he was surrounded by so many girls that were prettier than you.

and such thoughts were enough to render you useless, making you lay in bed for the entirety of the day. as you wallow in your thoughts, you heard your phone go off with your usual text tone. curious as to who was texting you, you look at your screen and freeze, reading xavier’s text:

hey, i got off early. u wanna hang out together? i’m free.

pursing your lips, you leave his text on read, tossing your phone aside before wrapping your blankets tightly around your form. a few seconds later, your phone goes off at least 5 more times, and you were certain it was xavier trying to reach you once more.

you remain in bed, dozing off here and there while wrapped up in your cocoon. you lost track of time, and stiffen when you heard the sound of your front door opening. feeling panicked now, you quickly sit up in bed, hearing footsteps walk into your apartment, revealing xavier just a few moments later with a bag of takeout in his hand.

“hey, i got worried when you didn’t text or call me back, so i figured i’d stop by and check on you.” xavier was frowning slightly, settling the bag of food on top of your desk before sitting on the bed with you.

you run a hand across your tangled locks of hair, “uhm, how did you get in here?”

xavier hums, reaching into the confines of his sweater to pull out your spare key settled on a lanyard. “you gave this to me during our four month anniversary, remember?”

you felt your cheeks heat up in response, leaning forward to gently trace at it. “y-you kept this on you all this time?”

xavier nods, all while gently gripping at your hand, “what’s bothering you.”

“nothing’s bothering me.” you tell xavier a little too quickly, making his frown deepen in response. he ends up tightening his grip on your hand. “that’s not true, and i want you to be honest with me.”

meeting his gaze, you could see the determination shining in them before sighing. “i…i feel really plain in comparison to the women you surround yourself with at the hunters association.”

you watch as xavier’s eyes go wide at your admission, yet still, you continue to explain to him, “i just… i feel like im not pretty enough compared to them. and it- it really is such a mystery why you’re here with me.”

xavier shakes his head for a brief moment before surging forward, giving you a searing kiss as his lips were perfectly slotted against yours. you moan into his kiss, allowing your fingers to delve into his hair as he deepens it.

once he was satisfied with the kiss, xavier pulls away from you, all while flashing you a gentle smile. he frames at your face once more and rests his forehead against yours, “the reason for me being here with you is simple, really, and it’s solely because i love you. you make me so happy, and i love being able to protect you while keeping you in my arms.”

“to me, no other woman can compare to you… and i like you best when you have no makeup on and are in comfortable clothes.” xavier smiles and nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours, “to me, you’re beautiful at all times of the day.”

feeling your heart soar thanks to his honest words alone, you fling your arms around your beloved, holding him close while basking in his kisses. and when he moves his kisses away from your lips and towards your features, you allow xavier to kiss away every insecurity that you felt.

the whole world knew of how beautiful rafayel was-

and that was what sent your thoughts down into a spiral, with you wondering what he even saw in you to begin with.

your first meeting started out as nothing short of romantic. by some twist of fate, you and rafayel happened to frequent at the same café, and as you were scrolling through your phone while taking sips of your coffee, you became aware of a cute boy heading towards you from your periphery.

he smiles at you, amethyst eyes shining with amusement and mirth as he slides a torn piece of sketch paper toward you. on the paper was by far the prettiest rendition of your likeness that you had ever seen. you were honestly impressed by this young man’s talent and asked him if this was how he truly saw you.

he ends up nodding his head in answer to your question. “absolutely. you’re utterly gorgeous, and i knew i had to try and capture your features into my memories somehow. the name’s rafayel, by the way.”

despite your best efforts, you end up grinning widely at him while telling rafayel your own name. the young artist repeats it, as if tasting the syllables on his lips while leaning closer to you. “say, would you like to keep this sketch i made of you?”

“y-yes! i’d love to keep this!” you end up holding the piece of paper close to your chest, earning a rich chuckle from rafayel.

“if that’s the case, then you’ll have to pay for it; and the only payment i’ll accept is if you agree to go on a date with me.”

oh, this guy was a smooth one, and he had caught you-

hook, line, and sinker.

of course, you agreed to go on a date with him-

yet that one date was enough for rafayel to claim you as his girlfriend.

and you’ve been with him ever since.

rafayel was by far the sweetest, and most gorgeous man you had ever dated. sure, you had your bumpy moments-

but the love and happiness you felt with him was something that couldn’t be ignored. he was worth every ounce of your time, (even if he had a tendency to be moody and spoiled).

however, with your growing happiness when it came to being in a relationship with rafayel, there was a lingering sense of doubt as well. for starters, you didn’t look quite as perfect as rafayel did, with you having acne scars scattered throughout your body (mainly on your face and your back).

these lingering scars was what made you shy away from more loose fitting clothes, with you often wearing long sleeved shirts or sweaters to keep your lingering acne and scars hidden.

in fact, you hated them so much that you couldn’t stand to look in the mirror at times.

feeling anxious and unable to keep still, you decide to stop pacing around your shared bedroom, not wishing to distract rafayel as he painted his latest piece. grabbing a plush towel, you head into the bathroom and turn on the faucet of the walk in shower all while shrugging off your clothes in the process.

settling the towel off to the side, once you were bare, you get into the shower and remain beneath the shower spray, basking in the heat. you continue to remain motionless, all while resting your head against the slick shower wall.

you had no idea how long time had passed, and only jumped when you heard rafayel’s voice calling out to you.

“i heard you were in the shower for roughly half an hour now and got concerned, so i’m coming in.”

protests were heard coming from your parted lips, yet rafayel ignored every single one of them, tossing his clothes in a pile before entering the shower with you. his bright eyes remained filled with love for you when he grabs the bottle of body wash and places a significant portion on the sponge. with a hum of your name, rafayel slowly begins lathering the soap all across your form.

“what’s on your mind, princess?” you shiver, feeling your entire body relax as rafayel worked on cleaning your body. taking in a deep breath, you gather your thoughts for a moment before finally admitting to him, “i’m just… feeling really insecure. i keep thinking as to why you’re with me.”

rafayel stops washing your body to let out a scoff. “i’m insulted you feel this way. what do you even mean?”

“i-i mean, look at me, rafayel. i have lingering acne scars on my back, and i don’t have a face that would make people turn their heads to get a better look at me. i’m no ravishing beauty-“

rafayel then presses a lingering kiss at the back of your naked shoulder, making your breath hitch in response. he continues kissing you, trailing his lips softly against your skin as you felt his every touch on your back. as evident from his movements, it was clear that he was kissing at the acne scars that marred your back.

“do you remember the day we first met, and i had given you that sketch?”

you shiver in response, managing to nod in reply to his question. of course you remembered that day, how could you possibly forget what had to have been the happiest day of your life?

“that day, when i first saw you and how you casually sipped at your coffee, i was drawn to the soft and natural beauty you had. i don’t care about models or any other beauty standard that girls tend to follow. what drew me to you was how you seemed to exude a hidden kindness… and just… knew then that i had to capture your features and forever immortalize it in that drawing.”

he places one last kiss against your back before turning you around so that you could face him. tears were seen welling up in your eyes, and you couldn’t stop them from cascading down your face when rafayel frames at them. he caresses at your cheek while telling you, “you have always been the light of my life… and that’s never going to change, because in my eyes, no one would ever be able to compare to you.”

you clench your eyes shut and give him a nod, unable to speak to him due to how much your throat was felt clenching up in response. giving you one last smile, rafayel leans in to quickly give your lips a chaste kiss.

“now, how about we finish this shower, then later on, we’ll order your favorite takeout while watching a movie together.”

more than ready to experience such a fun and relaxing night with him, you give your beloved lumerian a nod before leaning even closer to his touch, allowing him to spoil you as his reverent caresses against your skin makes every insecurity you felt disappear in an instant.

end notes: don’t mind me, i was feeling pretty low about myself and how i looked, and wrote a little something to help with comforting me 🥹 if any of you readers have similar insecurities, then i hope this fic comforted you as well ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

THE SUCCESSOR 🐙 SOSUKE AIZEN X F! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 1: IMPREGNATION

🐙 requested by: @muzansfangs Hi, honey! Your event looks absolutely awesome! Here I am submitting a request because you are an amazing writer❤️ Day 1 + Aizen Sosuke + f!reader (impregnation). Take your time, love you!❤️ ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. impregnation. mentions of pregnancy. reader "used" by Aizen to fulfill the need for a successor. 🐙 wc: 637 // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

With his hands around your waist, pressing you against him, he whispers in your ear how much he desires to make you the “bearer of his descendance”

Your back laying on his chest, your legs hanging down his legs; sitting on that sterile “throne”, the king assures a step further on his plans...

Oh, Sosuke Aizen, what do you see in that future of yours? Solitude? Defeat? Why do you need a successor?

Your nape, your hair, rest on Sosuke’s shoulder and neck. Up, his right hand slides; your neck it finds, crushing carotids and jugulars, making you dizzy… out of breath, perhaps even controlling you to go and come from the brink of death. Slap after slap, thighs hitting against your ass. Sweaty surfaces that go up and down, as he drills into you with desperate hips.

“Will you bear my child, dear (Name)?” he asks, coercing you to say yes… in any case, a blurred mind and an almost limp body is unable to say otherwise.

“Y-ye-yes, Aizen-sa-sama” you cry, as he presses your cheeks, so your lips become pouty, and your words come out in an adorably humiliating way.

A sophisticated, tinted in psychopathic, smirk escapes his lips. It makes you tremble, how can someone be so sexy, so soft and yet so scary at the same time? Guess the strongest don’t really need to be violent.. oh, but what definitely holds an almost unbearable violence, are those hip thrusts that wont stop pumping on you.

And your walls, as lustful, as desperate as those thrusts, spasm, milking that man that needs to shut his chocolate eyes closed… see, there is a reason why you were chosen to serve Aizen-sama.

“Aren’t you a little bit needy? Heh” he murmurs, biting ever so softly the lobe of your right ear. The humid words of his hot breath, feels like they are kissing your brain, pulling you down with tingles everywhere.

“Always for you, Aizen-sama” you purr, in heaven, with your inner thighs trembling and your toes a little curled. “I am yours to please, I am yours to be used…”

Sosuke growls; he definitely knows how his you are. But, even though, the moment he listens to those words, his body reacts uncontrollably… So far from the cold, calm, and collected Aizen you know, he bites your neck. His thrusts are even more violent than before, this time you can’t bounce properly as his delicate hands, yet strong and evil, grab you by your waist. He lifts you up, he doesn’t really need you moving… just be a hole for his insatiable hunger this time.

“Shsh, baby…” he murmurs, penetrating you so perfectly. The position, with you lifted and softly bent forward allows the tip of his sex to hardly push your sweet spot. Like an expert, knowing so very well, exactly where to press, he makes you retort with just the violent drill of unstoppable ramming.

It is nearly impossible for you not to come, viciously and aggressively, as suspended in between heaven and hell… well, isn’t it funny how the new king of Hueco Mundo is actually fucking your right now?

“Come on, cum so that I can fill you up very well…” he continues, enjoying the pleasure of your milking walls. “You know you shouldn’t waste a single drop, baby? Would you keep it inside for me? We need to make you very, very pregnant”

You shiver… exactly why, you don’t really know. Is it because of your orgasm taking over? Or is it because you are being entrusted with such a high order from Aizen-sama?

In any case… “Yes, Aizen-sama… make me, really, really pregnant…” “Very good, my beautiful ray of sun… come on, do it with a smile for me… but, please, make sure not to fail”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAh, toxic motherfucker!

Taglist of amazing babes: @awas-posts @missfuriosa @theneighbourhoodferret @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919 💕🌻

[daisynik7]

Sweet Like Honey

Chapter 1: The First Time

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.1k

cw: established relationship, fluff, smut – PIV sex (missionary), nipple play, clitoral stimulation, sex without a condom, creampie, pet names

Summary: Nanami invites you to his place for the first time, where he offers to cook you dinner, which leads to a night of many other firsts. 

Author's Notes: I originally wrote these spicy side stories for A Bento For Kento last year and I'm just now getting around to editing/rewriting some of it to match more of my current style! I hope you like it, thank you for reading! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Sweet Like Honey Masterlist | Next Chapter

Being inside Nanami’s apartment for the first time makes you nervous for some reason. Maybe it’s the feeling of being in somebody’s personal space that makes you uneasy. You like this man, of course, but there’s still so much you don’t know about him. It’s only been two weeks since you started dating. Two weeks since your first and second kiss at the street food festival. With Ren still living with you at home, it’s been difficult to find time to be alone with Nanami. 

Until tonight.

He offers to make dinner, which is already such a huge turn on for you. The smell coming from the kitchen is intoxicating. You can’t recall the last time that someone cooked a meal from scratch to serve to you. There’s yearning in the pit of your stomach. Is it hunger caused by the aroma of the food? Or desire for the man currently preparing the food? It’s both, definitely both. 

You’re currently sitting on the couch with a glass of red wine in hand, classical music playing on his stereo in the background. You don’t expect anything less from him, already so smitten by the classy Kento Nanami. You sneak a glance at him in the kitchen, admiring the black apron he’s wearing over a blue dress shirt and his usual spotted tie. He looks extremely attractive right now. In fact, he is extremely attractive. Feeling increasingly nervous each passing minute, you chug your liquor before standing up to walk into the kitchen. He takes his focus away from the pan to look at you, asking, “Need anything?”

“I was actually coming here to ask you the same question,” you respond with a small smile. 

“I’m almost done. Just want the sauce to thicken up a bit more.” He eyes your empty glass. “Need a refill?”

You hold it out to him, nodding. “Yes, please.” 

He pours the bottle, filling it halfway. Without a word, you tip it into your mouth, taking three large gulps to swallow it down. From your peripheral, you catch Nanami watching you curiously.

Why are you freaking out right now? You’re with your boyfriend, who has been nothing but kind, gentle, and sweet to you. But tonight, you are hyper aware that it’s just the two of you, alone inside his swanky apartment, the bedroom just a few feet away.

It’s just dinner, you remind yourself. This doesn’t guarantee that the two of you will have sex tonight. Besides, why are you thinking about sex to begin with? Get your mind out of the gutter. He invited you here for dinner, nothing more. However, there’s no denying that it’s been on your mind. You nearly pounced on him at the street food festival. Every night, you replay the memory of his touch; his gentle hand on your cheek, his warm mouth on yours. How his lips feel against the skin of your wrist. The way his jaw clenches when he’s trying to hold back. You want to feel that again. You want more. 

You’ve seen each other a couple more times after that night, either out in public or at your house with Ren. And with your protective younger brother always keeping an eye out, your goodnight kisses have been tame, a little too tame, if you’re being honest. To say you’ve been eager for this alone time with him is an understatement. Despite this, you can’t help being a tad nervous. Will you two be compatible in the bedroom? Are there any weird kinks he’s into? Is he okay with the kinks that you’re into? These questions won’t be answered all in one night, so there’s no use in stressing about it when sex isn’t even on the table yet. You’re only focus tonight should be to enjoy this delicious home-cooked meal courtesy of your super hot boyfriend and let everything play out the way it should. 

“Go ahead and sit. I’ll serve you.” You snap out of your reverie at the sound of his voice and take a seat at the dining table, taking the bottle of wine with you. Soon, he appears with two steaming plates in hand, setting one in front of you and the other at his spot next to you. “Carbonara and garlic bread. This is my favorite meal to cook,” he says, sitting down and filling his glass. 

“This smells and looks incredible. I’m so impressed!” you beam at him, eyes glowing with admiration. 

“That’s a huge compliment, coming from you,” he responds, smiling.

“Pasta is not a specialty of mine. You’ll have to teach me one day.”

“Sounds like a good date idea. Let’s plan that soon.”

You twirl your fork around the noodles for the perfect bite. It’s still piping hot off the plate. When it hits your tongue, your taste buds sing. The sauce is perfectly creamy with just the right amount of cheese and pepper flavor. The salt from the crisp bits of pancetta adds enough flavor without being too overpowering. The noodles are al-dente, just the way you like it. Everything together creates a luxurious, well-balanced dish. Even the garlic bread is delicious; he roasted the garlic beforehand, surrounding the apartment with one of your favorite scents. “Delicious. Absolutely delicious. It tastes even better than it looks, and it looks incredible.”

“Now you’re just exaggerating,” he says, a faint blush on his cheeks. 

“No, Nanami. It’s seriously amazing. Thank you for cooking this for me.” You take another big forkful, closing your eyes and making small noises of satisfaction. He doesn’t speak, a small smile on his face smile as he eats his own food, occasionally glancing at you to make sure you’re still enjoying the meal. The silence isn’t awkward; it feels comfortable. Both of you indulging in delicious food and great company. 

When you’ve scraped your plate clean with your last piece of garlic bread, you finish the rest of your wine, letting out happy sigh as you rub your belly. Nanami finishes soon after and stands up to take the plates into the kitchen. You follow, offering, “Let me wash the dishes! It’s the least I could do after you’ve fed me.”

“I’ll put them in the dishwasher, don’t worry.”

You lean against the countertop, helping him load the dishwasher. After the cycle stars, he steps towards you, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you for dinner. Seriously. That was so delicious,” you say, peering up at him. 

“You know that I already like you, right?” he chuckles, planting another smooch on you. “You don’t have to keep flattering me.”

“I’m just being honest! That was one of the best meals I’ve ever had! But I’m obviously biased because I already like you too,” you tease, winking. From behind him, you suddenly notice something on his fridge. Curious, you walk up to it. It’s the bento box notes you wrote him, hung up by magnets, each one wrinkled from wear and tear. Smiling, you ask, “You hung them up on your fridge?

He stands beside you, arm brushing yours. “Of course. They keep me going throughout the week.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, beaming at him. “You are the sweetest man, you know that?” You kiss, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you in closer. The fact that he still has those notes, now hung up on his fridge like artwork, makes your heart swell. How is this man even real? And how are you lucky enough to have him as your boyfriend?

He pulls away from the kiss, voice wavering just the slightest. “Should we move to the couch?”

Heat creeps into your face as he leads you into the living room. Is the wine getting to you? Or is it your nerves? You’re the one who initiated the kiss, so why are you surprised that he wants to move it to the couch?! There’s no way he wants to get it on right now; you just ate. Isn’t there a rule about waiting thirty minutes after you eat, or does that only apply to swimming?

You both sit on the catch, knees touching, holding hands. He gazes at you lovingly, even as you try to avoid his gaze. “Are you okay? You seem a little distracted.” He brushes your cheek with his thumb, his touch giving you the flutters below your stomach. 

“I’m fine,” you lie, totally flustered now.

“Are you sure?” He brings your hand up to his lips, placing soft kisses between your knuckles. Oh no, your absolute weakness.

“I guess I’m just a little nervous,” you admit.

“What are you nervous about?”

You let out a timid laugh. “I don’t know. I’m just being weird.”

He stops kissing to study you. “You can be honest with me. Please tell me what’s on your mind.”

Taking a deep breath, you explain, “I want to get some things out in the open. Make sure we’re both on the same page.”

There’s a worried glint in his eyes. “Okay.”

Another deep breath. “So, um. Sex. I want to have sex. With you. Do you…I mean, would you like that, too? Is that, um, something you want to do with me?”

You can see a small grin forming on his lips, but he immediately goes back to a neutral expression to answer, “Yes. Very much so.”

Cheeks burning, you reply, “Okay. That’s…good to know.” You clear your throat before posing the next question. “Have…have you been tested recently? I’m sorry to ask this, I just want to make sure we’re practicing safe sex.”

Calmly, he says, “I got tested two weeks ago as soon as we started dating. Everything is good.” Before you can continue, he adds, “And don’t apologize for asking that. That’s a very valid question.”

You nod, easing up a bit. “I got tested a few months ago when I last saw my gynecologist. And I’m also good. I haven’t had sex since then, so yeah. I’m good. We’re good.”

“Good.”

There’s a moment of silence as you properly process this conversation. Why were you so anxious? You should have known that talking to Nanami like this would be easy, considering how mature he is. 

“Oh! Also, I’m on birth control. Just FYI. In case you were wondering,” you blurt out. 

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he says, a kind expression on his face. Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the way he looks at you. 

Finally relaxed, you say, “Okay, I think that’s all I wanted to talk about. Thank you.”

“Thank you for opening up to me.” He places his hand on yours, caressing you with his thumb.

You ask, “Do you have any questions for me?” He shakes his head no. You continue. “I’m sorry if this is awkward. I just want to make sure we go about this the right way.” The fluster on your face is definitely noticeable; there’s no hiding it now.

His smile brightens as he scoots closer to you. “You’re too cute, you know that?” 

At that, you let out another giggle, glancing down at your lap, shy for an entirely different reason now.

“I really like you. You have no idea,” he whispers, breath warm on your ear. When did he get so close? Your heart pounds like crazy, enough that he can probably hear it. 

Attempting to lighten the mood, you joke, “You still like me after all that interrogation?”

“I think I like you even more now.” There’s lust dripping in his voice. “Can I kiss you?”

Without saying another word, you lean in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss starts slow and gentle. His hand cups your face, thumb grazing your cheekbone, reminding you vividly of your first kiss. How the sounds of the festival were drowned out by the thumping of your heartbeat. Now, the classical music playing in the background is muted by the wet noises your lips make against Nanami’s mouth. His other hand slides up your thigh, fingers dangerously close to the arousal between your legs. The first time, he was holding back. This time, he’s not. He wants you. 

He pulls your head back gently, lips trailing down your neck, sucking on your skin where it’s most sensitive. As if he knows exactly where to touch you to stimulate every nerve in your body. He slides under your blouse, fingers grazing the bulge of your belly. Feeling insecure, you grab his wrist and push his hand away. He stops to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“I just…I just ate, so I’m a bit bloated,” you confess. “Feeling a little self-conscious.”

With another kind expression, he says, “I understand. I won’t touch you there.” He returns to your thigh, kissing your neck once more, traveling up to your ear to whisper, “You are beautiful. I hope one day you’ll let me worship every part of your gorgeous body.”

Your insecurity is quickly overtaken by the need to feel him on every inch of your bare skin. Without thinking, you take his hand and slip it beneath your blouse, allowing him to touch you there now. Why did you even bother trying to resist him?

He laughs softly. “Good girl.”

Hearing him utter those words as he touches has your pussy throbbing. There’s nothing else on your mind except feeling him all over you. Feeling him inside you. He squeezes your breast, his thumb flicking your nipple over the fabric of your bra. 

“Want to move into the bedroom?”

Without a second thought, you answer, “Yes.”

~~~

Fingers entwined with hers, he takes her into his room, watching as she lies on his king-sized bed. He straddles her, hands at the hem of her shirt. “Can I undress you?”

She nods, sitting up to help him strip her, her upper body exposed except for the bra covering her breasts. He doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable; he can tell she’s a bit nervous, despite the obvious desire in her eyes. Most importantly, he wants this to be an enjoyable experience. “Is it okay if I take your bra off?”

She gulps loudly before breathing out, “Yes.”

He wraps his arms around her, fingers grasping for the clasp. She kisses him hastily, lightly nipping at his lower lip, his dick growing stiffer inside his pants. She reaches for him, palming his strained cock until he’s uncomfortable hard against the fabric. When her bra finally comes lose, he tugs it off her body, tossing it to the floor, admiring her bare bosom. 

“Can I suck on your nipples?” he huffs, his patience wearing thin. “Do you like that?”

“Yes, I really like that.”

She really likes it, she says. Good to know. He squeezes her breast, sucking on her nipple. His free hand massages the other, pinching it lightly until he it’s perky against his fingertips. He circles his thumb around it as he continues to work her tits, making lewd noises as he releases her with a wet pop, only to latch onto her again, sucking harder. She moans, his cock twitching with every erotic sound that comes out of her salacious mouth. 

Nipple plump on his tongue, he moves to the other one, sucking until she squirms beneath him, whimpering in pleasure. Still completely clothed, he loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt, stripping until he’s naked from the waist up. Her fingers trail his abs, then down to the skin right above the hem of his pants. Once she unbuckles his belt, he slides out of his pants until he is clad only in his briefs, her focus on the obvious bulge protruding from his underwear. She undresses, keeping just her panties on. He leans over to kiss her passionately, letting his hands explore her body freely, cherishing every soft curve of her glorious figure.

He’s been dreaming about this. Ever since their first kiss, he’s thought about her every night. The way she tastes on his lips. How soft her skin is on his rough hands. He would fantasize about the different positions they would try, the sounds she would make if he ever got the chance to pleasure her. Every second they spend together, his feelings for her grow stronger and stronger. He’s never felt like this with anyone else. That’s why he doesn’t want to screw it up. He wants nothing more than to pleasure her, make her feel comfortable and safe with him.  

He breaks away to catch his breath. “Is this okay?”

She smiles, cupping his cheek. “Yes. This is more than okay.”

“We don’t have to go any further, we can stop here,” he suggests. He really doesn’t want to, but he will if she does. 

“Do you want to stop?” There’s a naughty look in her eyes, as if she’s teasing him.

“No.”

“Neither do I.”

Electricity surges through his body, ready to burst. His fingers reach for her panties, rubbing her clit through the cloth. “Can I touch you here?”

“Yes, Nanami. Fuck.”

His cock twitches at the sound of her cursing. This is one his fantasies, hearing filthy words come out her sweet, innocent mouth. He slips his middle finger past the fabric, sliding it up and down her wet folds, circling her clit, cock rigid underneath his briefs. Feeling her like this is better than he ever imagined. A dream come true.

“Show me. I want to see how big you are for me,” she purrs into his ear.

His eyes widen at her suggestion. Fuck. He won’t be able to last if she keeps saying things like this in her sexy voice. He shoves his briefs down his thighs, letting his hard cock flop against his abdomen. 

“Fuck, Nanami. You’re so big. Can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Losing his composure, he mutters, “Fuck, baby. Are you sure this is okay?”

“Yes, sweetie.”

He lets out a huff. “Okay. I can’t believe we’re really doing this.” He reaches for his nightstand, grabbing a condom and lube from the drawer. When she sees him opening the packet, she grabs his wrist. “You don’t have to put that on. I’m on birth control, remember?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I want to feel you come inside me.”

“Fuck.” He pours lube onto his palm, stroking his erection. She watches hungrily as he positions himself at her wet slit, guiding it in smoothly, her pussy clenching him every inch he slides in. When he bottoms out, he stays still, waiting for her body to adjust to his size. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she breathes out.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He thrusts slowly, savoring how incredible she feels around him. It takes everything in his willpower not to come yet. She wraps her legs around his waist, arms linked behind his neck. That beautiful smile flashes across her face, making him tingly all over his body. He really likes her.

His pace picks up, drawing out small moans from her sweet lips. He’s close, but he wants to make her orgasm first. He reaches down to rub her puffy clit with his thumb, the sudden sensation causing her to buck up towards him. Her reaction encourages him to thrust into her faster, moving his thumb relentlessly over the sensitive spot. 

“Fuck, Nanami. I’m going to come,” she whimpers. 

“Come for me, princess. Come all over my cock.”

She tightens, her body squeezing him until she climaxes. After her high, she relaxes her grip on him, eyes glazed over, grinning. When he tries to pull out, she stops him. “Don’t. Keep going until you come. Please.”

It doesn’t take long; he thrusts into her a few more times until he releases inside her, filling her up. As he pulls out, cum drips out of her slit, an erotic sight he’ll never tire of seeing. He collapses beside her, steadying his breath. She turns to him, sliding her arm over his chest, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. Cuddling closer to her, he whispers, “Thank you.”

She laughs. “Thank you, too.” 

They stay like that for a few minutes, the silence comfortable, their bodies cozy snuggled together. Before they end up falling asleep, Nanami sits up and announces, “I’ll be back.” He disappears into the bathroom, rummaging his cupboard for the unscented baby wipes he bought a few days ago. When he returns, he crawls back in bed next to his girlfriend and takes out a few wipes. 

“Wow, you’re so prepared!” she exclaims, taking the wipes from him to clean herself. 

“I figured these would be good to have, just in case. If you want, we can take a shower together before we sleep. You can wear my clothes.” 

“I can’t sleep over. Ren is going to freak out if I don’t come home.”

Slightly disappointed, he responds, “Oh, okay.”

Sensing this, she kisses him on the cheek. “I promise. Next time, I will sleep over. Just gotta get Ren’s approval first.”

“You’re such a good sister,” he smirks.

“And when Ren moves into the dorms in a couple of weeks, we can do whatever we want, wherever we want.”

“I’d like that.”

After she’s cleaned up, she changes back into her clothes. Nanami puts on a new pair of clean briefs to walk her to the door. “Call me when you’re home, okay?”

“I will.”

They hug each other tightly before saying goodbye. Exhausted from his orgasm, Nanami goes straight to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for sleep. As he lies in bed, under the very blanket they just had sex on, he moves his head to the pillow. The one she was sprawled out on as he made her come. He takes a deep breath with his nose pressed against it, inhaling her sweet scent. He feels his arousal growing beneath his briefs, thinking about the way his cum trickled out of her. 

He smiles to himself, reaching down to stroke his hard cock, realizing he doesn’t have to go off fantasies anymore. 

Taglist: @chiyoso

[agroteraa]

Artemis

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Part 2.

Part 1: Actaeon

Part 3.1: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.1)

Part 3.2: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.2)

Warnings: smut, oral, handjob, penetration sex.

Word Count: 5,5K

After the events of the last night, you didn't join in watching TV with the Cattons and Oliver. No, you weren't tired, but you were overwhelmed with emotions and all that had happened. Besides, you couldn't imagine how you could just go and watch telly with Oliver after that. It would be too embarrassing to pretend that nothing had happened, and you didn't think he'd be able to keep his face either.

So, you just went to your bed, tossing and turning for most of the night, thinking about what scenes in the bathroom. It felt like Oliver's hands were still ghostly wandering all over your body...

You came to breakfast very sleepy and visibly a little lost. It was a beautiful and sunny morning, and all Saltburn habitants were sitting at a table outside and eating various treats.

"Good morning, everyone!" you said, not being able to hold back a yawn.

"Good morning, sweetheart!" Elspeth replied, looking at you worriedly, "Is everything alright?"

Felix echoed his mother's look, slightly raising his eyebrows in concern. The others were busy with their own conversations, and only Oliver silently cast a brief glance at you, returning to eating his full English breakfast.

"Yes, it's okay, I'm just... I couldn't fall sleep for a while."

"Okay," Elspeth nodded, satisfied with your rather innocuous answer.

When you took a seat at the table opposite Oliver, you couldn't look into his eyes, your stomach was twisting, not from the hunger, but from the excitement. You didn't feel like eating at all. Duncan brought you eggs cooked in your favorite way, you nodded gratefully to him, but you were in no hurry to eat. Oliver noticed it.

"Is something wrong?" he asked innocently, looking up at you.

"Um, I'm just... I don't know, I guess I'm just not hungry right now."

"Hmm. Well, but I am. I've been hungry since last night. Very much," he chuckled, returning to his meal with appetite.

You gulped. It seems that he didn't mean breakfast at all now?

That had how your morning went, and then you went about your own business. Oliver, Felix, Farleigh and Venetia went to play tennis. You dismissed the game, and even more so there were exactly four of them. Instead, you went for a walk in gardens of Saltburn, read a book in a shady gazebo and muse upon the evening ahead. So, the evening had finally come, forcing the hot sun to forget about itself until the next day.

You thought and decided to politely decline the dinner. To be honest, you were feeling sick with excitement, and you definitely wouldn't be able to eat anything at dinner, especially if Oliver would be looking at you. It was better to seem a little weird now than to get a bunch of unwanted questions later.

Instead, you decided to stay in your room, citing a slight indisposition. You really had it, though, for a different reason. You lied down on the bed and began to remember the last night. His touch, his breathing, his piercing blue eyes that turned dark with desire at that moment... a desire for you.

It was hard to even believe it, but it seemed that was it. Your breathing got heavy when you started running your fingers over your lips, feeling your hot breath on your fingers, because you imagined that it were Oliver's fingers...

... ohh. You definitely needed to do something about it tonight.

* * *

"Where have everyone gone? I've been looking for y’all for half an hour," you said, finding Oliver in the library, who was comfortably settled in an armchair and reading a book.

"They're playing Uno. It seems that Felix and Farleigh will quarrel even more than yesterday over the remote control, and Venetia is also with them."

"Why aren't you with them too?"

"I'm not a fan of these kinds of games," Oliver explained with an emphasis on "these" not even looking up from his book.

"Mm, yes, about Venetia. Although she is not giving concerts in the bathroom tonight, but now there is only cold water running, apparently there is also some kind of heating malfunction, and the second bathroom still has not yet been repaired..."

At this point, Oliver looked up at you, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Oh, really?"

"Mhm..." you confirmed, biting your lip.

He looked at you searchingly, tilting his head slightly to the side. Then, with a rising smile, he replied to you, "Of course. Enjoy yourself," and returned to reading his book. That was it, there was no further reaction or words from Oliver.

"F-fine." That was it? For some reason, you hoped that he would somehow hint that he would also join you, or at least react livelier to your words. But you had no choice but to go back to your room, get a bathrobe and go to that bathroom. You didn't bring a towel. Okay, Oliver, if you wanted to play ignore, we could arrange that.

Going into the bathroom of Oliver and Felix, you began to fill the tub. The room greeted you again with a pleasant dim lighting and the hum of water flowing down. His incomprehensible indifference throughout the day had upset you and even slightly angered you. Therefore, this time you had already put things on Felix's half on purpose and took his towels, no matter what Oliver had asked you to do.

After a while, you sank into the pleasantly hot water and began to wait. More precisely, at first you were really relaxing, but with every passing minute you were rather waiting for Oliver more than enjoying the process. But he did not come.

"Damn," you swore inwardly, and just as you were starting to think about getting out of the bath and getting ready, Oliver walked into the room.

"Hello!-" you started.

"Hi," he replied shortly and walked into his room, hardly looking at you. What?

You changed your mind about getting out of the bathtub right now and decided to sit in it until something would happen. About 5 minutes later Oliver came out, dressed in a domestic white tank top and stiped blue boxers. Your stomach turned over from this intimacy of his outfit. He went to his bathroom table, turned the water on and, as if nothing had happened, began to brush his teeth. He didn't start a conversation with you.

"So, uh, how was your day?" you began hesitantly, turning your head towards him.

"We played tennis, then took a dip in the pool, and then I enjoyed reading in the evening. Well, you’ve seen it."

"Yeah, that’s great..."

"And how was yours?"

"Not like... how I thought it would pass. I think I feel weird..."

"It must be because you didn't sleep well today. Go to bed early, yeah?"

"Huh? Yeah, I guess..."

You were a little lost. You looked at Oliver from behind, but he didn't turn to you. Of course, he was looking at you in the mirror again. He was a little on edge right now. This evening was not going quite the way he had imagined, but it was even intriguing.

The thing was that he had decided not to do anything with the second bathroom today. He overheard a conversation that the first bathroom had not been repaired again today, as the workers had confused the date and would arrive only tomorrow. So, it was even interesting for him to put it in the hands of fate. Would Venetia take over the only left bathroom again? Or would you just come in and innocently, hiding your gaze, ask Felix again or even Oliver himself if you could use their the bathroom again. Or maybe you would silently, struggling with your shame and desire, come to their bathroom and use it, hoping that something similar to the previous time would happen? Oh, he would definitely make your desires, which you were still afraid to admit to yourself, come true.

But no. You came to him and lied to him about the second bathroom, looking straight into his eyes.

"So, Y/N, do you want to remain innocent, but at the same time you know how to lie in your favor? It's interesting. You're beautiful and you did take a sacred bath, and now you really think you can be Artemis in every sense? No, no, no. No. Dear, there can only be one hunter here, and that's me," Oliver thought to himself, "And if you want to play on my field, well, I'll show you how it’s done."

With these thoughts, Oliver bit his lip contentedly, continuing to read the book while you left the library, but his thoughts drifted further and further away from the subject of reading.

At first, he wanted to nonchalantly go into the bathroom and, while he was brushing his teeth, catch your glances with his skin, hear your rapid breathing and catch the sounds of your feet fidgeting in the water. Then, having played enough with this longing, he would help you get out of the bathroom, wipe your beautiful naked hot body with his towel, hold your hands and take you to his room, where he would give you all the pleasure you would wish for. And this time he would have taken everything he wanted from you, enjoying you at its fullest.

But no.

You left your stuff on Felix's side. You took his towels. He told you not to do that.

His teeth almost bit his toothbrush in half when he saw it through the mirror. Was it an act of defiance, a way to attract extra attention, or a way to cause jealousy? Y/N, don't be a fool. But he hated to admit it, that some kind of jealousy had appeared in him anyway, and he was mad about it. No, don't you even dare to think that way. You were his, you would be only his.

The mood for a slow and sensual night has evaporated completely. Right now, Oliver could only bend you over and fuck you properly. Yes, that would be sweet too. But still, he didn't want to ruin everything and start your relationship like this. He'd better go to bed now, and tomorrow he’d know better.

"So, I'm going to bed, too. Good night, Y/N," Oliver said calmly, clutching the toothbrush in his hands with all his might, making it almost break it a second time.

You were left alone in the bathroom. What had happened? Were you too persistent, and Oliver was upset by your persistence? Or was he really that angry about your stuff left on Felix's table? It also occurred to you that he somehow intuitively felt and was upset about your lies, but of course he couldn't know that. But you still felt somehow guilty.

After getting out of the bathtub and draining the water, you dried yourself with a towel and, putting on your bathrobe, leaned your hands on the sink on Felix's side. You looked in the mirror and thought what should you do. No, you couldn't just walk away, there was too much left unsaid.

*Knock-knock*

"Oliver!"

The door opened a crack, in front of you there was Quick looking out of the darkness with his bright blue eyes. He took off his tank top and wore boxers only. You involuntarily looked at his beautiful torso, on which was nothing on but one chain, glittering on the neck. You gulped.

"Yes?" he asked in a low, hoarse voice.

"Can we talk?" this time it was you who walked into his room without waiting for an invitation or even more so a refusal.

You stepped into his dark, moonlit room. He stood a few inches away and silently looked you up and down. You continued, "You've been acting kind of weird all day, I'm sorry if this is me who..."

"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience right now.

He silently pulled you to him, kissing you. You were very surprised, but you gave yourself up to this kiss with joy. Oliver kissed you passionately and long, then he took your hand and pulled you towards his bed. He carefully loosened the belt of your robe, admiring you from head to toe. Then he gently but abruptly threw you onto the bed and fell on top of you, leaning on his elbows and knees. Quick started kissing your neck, leaving hot prints of his lips on it, then he kissed your collarbone, then the place between your breasts. You started hugging him harder. Oliver continued his way down, kissing the place under your breasts and then slid his tongue over your stomach all the way to the bottom. You exhaled loudly, moving one hand to his soft hair on his head and squeezing it slightly.

He breathed out contentedly, and you could feel his smile on your skin. Then he cast a brief lustful glance at you, and went down even lower, to the most desired place. He kissed your inner thigh and then placed his lips on your folds. You felt his hot breath for a few seconds, as if he was enjoying this moment and didn't believe in it himself. Those few seconds seemed like an eternity to you, until he ran his tongue over your folds. You were already wet, so wet.

The tip of his tongue began to slowly glide up and down into the sensitive flesh all across your pussy, you left a sharp gasp. It was almost an electric feeling. Then he buried his mouth into you and started to run circles inside you with his wet and hot tongue. You began to moan softly while twitching your legs a little.

His hands were gripping your thighs, pulling your body even closer to his mouth. You buried both of your hands into his dark hair, letting a deep moan. Oliver was massaging your flesh from the inside, he was eating you out, almost humming to himself. Then he returned to caress your sensitive clit. You arched your back and you let out whine, burying hands deeper into his soft locks, almost tugging them. He let out satisfied pant and you looked down at him.

Gosh, he looked absolutely breathtaking, giving you a glare back with his piercing blue eyes on a half-seen face between your legs. And all this was happening in his moonlit room, like in some dark fairytale. It gave you a jolt of pleasure to the point you almost came.

He accelerated his pace and pressure until you tilted back your head and let out a long moan. You began to buck your hips but his hands were holding you firmly it almost hurt. His tongue got sloppy and messy as he feverishly caressed you. You couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Oliver!..” you cried out his name, clenching his head with your legs, his strong hands released the grip.

He raised his head with lips and chin glistening in the dark, panting and smiling. He was looking at your bliss, the result of his work, with indescribable delight. Oliver looked absolutely stunning that way, being covered in your bliss that he gave to you. You had almost come for the second time at that view.

"I'm very glad that you liked it. And now," he leaned up to kiss you briefly on the lips, "It's time to go to bed. Sweet dreams, Y/N, tomorrow will definitely be a better day."

You were surprised that he wanted to end it, but you were barely thinking and were still beside yourself with bliss, so, as if in a fog, you pulled on your bathrobe, nodded to Oliver and left on fast but wobbly legs. It was like you were bewitched and you didn't do it all yourself, but at someone's behest.

Oliver smiled contentedly, falling back onto the bed.

"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience, but not to the point where he could completely control himself and not break into a rage that would just tear you apart if he met his desires utterly.

Thus, tonight it would be his hand again, but this was definitely for the last time. Tomorrow he would be counting on your hands and not only on them.

* * *

Tomorrow was definitely a better day. Your appetite had returned, Oliver secretly was moving to you plates with pastries and fruits. You smiled and happily ate everything he offered.

But what happened in the last few nights seemed to remain only there. During the day, there was some kind of different, still a little tense atmosphere. Except that the ambiguity was replaced by a more agitated expectation and intrigue. It was still difficult for both of you to do small talks when the pictures of previous nights were so vivid in your heads.

Tonight was going to be a busy night, because James and Elspeth's friends, numerous Henrys and their wives, came to Saltburn. You also knew many of them, so you spent the whole evening in lively conversations with the exchange of news over the past year, endlessly promising to send greetings to your parents. Oliver seemed to be a little lost, especially at dinner, but you were seated quite far from each other, so even if you decided to talk to him, you couldn't do it. But you nodded at him from the other end of the table, lighting up the whole evening with your smile. He felt much less alone from that moment onwards.

The dinner was sumptuous, and numerous flowers and candles rested on the dark mirrored table, the candlelight danced beautifully on the faces of wining and dining guests. You stole a glance at Oliver - God, how handsome he was in this evening tuxedo, did he know that? You had a growing desire to get alone with him, but you had absolutely no idea how you could do it unnoticeably, and generally... take the initiative. You wouldn’t go to his bathroom for the third time, would you?

The evening was followed by a karaoke night led by DJ Farleigh. Everyone was having fun, singing along and clapping each other, it didn't matter if someone sang noticeably badly or really very well. Although “uncle” Henry's performance to the song “Low" was already too much, especially at the moment when you almost got smashed by his thrown jacket.

"Good Lord, give me strength," you thought, and then changed your prayer, turning your head to the side at Henry's wife, who eventually got his jacket right in her face, "Although no, please better give this woman strength."

Felix had been gallantly pouring you wine half the evening, asking how your mood was, and made funny comments about the guests. Then Venetia came, you also had a drink with her and a lively talk, and then she and her brother went to stand in a corner while smoking cigarettes, hilariously dancing to karaoke songs. Elspeth walked and chatted charmingly with the guests, and James sometimes eagerly but out of pace clapped to the rhythm of modern dance floor hits with often dubious lyrics.

Oliver was sitting on the opposite couch almost all this time, drinking some kind of tropical long. You didn't talk to him much during karaoke, but the conversation with his eyes was more than enough. His expressive orbs alternated between looking at you and following your rolling gaze as you watched another Henry who was making another drunken joke. And then his eyes started to burn a hole in you more and more, but he still remained silent and did not approach. Okay. In a different state, you may had started overthinking it or getting upset again, but not now. Now you were drunk enough to perform some karaoke hit and tell him everything with it. Well, telling something, at least.

"Farleigh!" you shouted, pointing at him.

"Yes!" he poked his finger at you in response, holding the microphone.

"Toxic" by Britney Spears!" you said, calling out a few "o-o-o-ohs" from the audience.

"Great!" the DJ of the evening grinned, putting the right song and giving the microphone to you.

The familiar sounds of a sampled violin came in, and then your voice followed:

Baby, can't you see I'm calling?

A guy like you should wear a warning

It's dangerous, I'm falling

There's no escape, I can't wait

I need a hit, baby, give me it

You're dangerous, I'm loving it

You sang, turning to Oliver and looking into his eyes. He sucked his cocktail out of a straw and then put it on the floor without breaking eye contact with you.

Too high, can't come down

Losing my head, spinning 'round and 'round

Do you feel me now?

He was sitting on the couch in his smart black tux, leaning back slightly and spreading his legs wide. Oliver was listening to you so attentively, as if this was not a Britney song, but some kind of revelation addressed only for him to comprehend.

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slipping under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic?

And I love what you do

Don't you know that you're toxic?

He grinned at you. You started swinging your hips slightly while you were singing. Oliver licked his lips lightly.

It's getting late to give you up

I took a sip from my devil's cup

Slowly, it's taking over me

What a confession. Or was it a call?

You kept singing while everyone else supported you and sang along too. Farleigh danced to the beat of the music, and Felix and Venetia just had a separate party in the corner of the room, as if they were really at a Britney concert, and not karaoke party, where their friend finally decided to sing, being a little drunk. Elspeth and James, somehow in an old-fashioned, but a very sweet way danced sitting on the couch. All this support from the Cattons was especially pleasant and inspired me to sing the song even more boldly!

Intoxicate me now with your loving now

I think I'm ready now (I think I'm ready now)

Intoxicate me now with your loving now

I think I'm ready now

Yes, it was definitely a call. Oliver shifted on the couch, outwardly remaining calm, but deep inside he just had a storm of emotions and desires.

Artemis was luring her Actaeon again.

The living room burst with applause and cheering. It was not that you sang better than the original, but still, this song had already become an everyone’s favourite hit, which could not be disliked in any case. And you sang charismatically, not to mention your body movements. You scored 100 points! And to Oliver it was all 200.

You chatted for a while with Felix and Venetia and one of the Henrys, who jumped up to you, drank more wine after such brave karaoke performance, and then sneaked out of the room, realizing that you urgently need to use the restroom. Your head was a little dizzy, but you got to that very bathroom of yours which actually worked fine. Having done all the necessary things, you began to wash your face and stood for a long time at the sink with the faucet open, gradually coming to your senses. Ugh, you shouldn’t drink like that, otherwise it won't be clear if you can remember the rest of the evening. And you really wanted the most interesting things to be just ahead.

"Oliver!"

He was standing against the wall opposite the bathroom exit.

"How did you know that you... that I... that I would go here and not, say, to your bathroom again?"

"Very simply, Y/N. You're drunk right now, and thus, you will most likely reach the place that you are most familiar with. Like on an autopilot. I decided that you use your bathroom more often than mine."

You thought about it. Indeed, everything was so simple when he explained it. He must be much more sober.

It was a good thing you left before Farleigh decided to make Oliver sing karaoke. It was unexpected and humiliating, very humiliating, but he turned the situation in his favor by handing the microphone back to Farleigh at the most ambiguous moment of the song. Soon it would be Farleigh paying his own "Rent". Fortunately, no one read this subtext except the two of them. Oliver wasn't worried much about that right now, he had more important things to do tonight, so he went looking for you, fortunately, it wasn't difficult at all.

"So, you sing," he stated, pulling away from the wall and leisurely approached you.

"Not really, more like when I have a little drink, huh..."

"Are you feeling better now, Y/N?"

"Yes, much better, thank you," you said, still musing, "And also I sing when there is a good reason for it"

Oliver came close to you, and leaning into your ear, asked, "Am I a good enough reason?"

You looked into his eyes, "What do you think..." and reached out to kiss him. The taste of your wine mixed with the taste of his sweet strong cocktails. "It seems he drank more than I thought after all, how is he holding up so well?" you wondered, but soon you lost the thread of thought when his tongue, even more saturated with alcohol, penetrated your mouth.

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slipping under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic?

Those lines from the song started spinning in your head again while your tongues were spinning in their own dance. You started to lose the feeling of the ground under your feet, but Oliver held you tight. But you still got to lean more on his sturdy body under that beautiful black and white suit.

Then, barely interrupting your kisses, you moved into your bedroom. It was lit by the moonlight, just like Oliver's bedroom last night. He began to take off your dress, gently kissing your shoulder. Then, you helped him undo your bra and stepped out of the shoes. At this time, he was taking off his tux without taking his eyes off you. He looked at you ecstatically from head to toe.

"Beautiful, so beautiful. Did I tell you that already?"

You nodded, smiling.

"I'll say it again. You're so fuckin’ beautiful," Oliver said with his deep sexy accent.

At these words, you became completely aroused and let out an inaudible moan, as he threw you on the bed, just like yesterday. After kissing you on the lips, he immediately went down on you, caressing your most sensitive part with his tongue and squeezing your hips harder than before. You shifted on the bed, entangling with his soft dark locks, and began to moan softly.

Oliver himself was also damn attractive, to say the least. His strong, slender stripped body covered yours, and only the chain was dangling on his neck. For some reason, this detail turned you on especially hard. Finally, you saw him completely naked, not just a couple of times in the tall grass, but right in your bedroom, when he was pressing you to the bed, towering over you. What a view.

His tongue was flicking over your clit, Oliver was almost moaning into your cunt as he eats you. You squeezed his head between your legs so hard, but he wouldn’t pull back. He was groaning and licking you relentlessly.

You were so close to orgasm, but he stopped and reached for your face, greedily kissing your lips with his shiny lips, this time for a long enough time so that you could taste your own arousal. It drove you crazy.

"Now you know just a little bit how delicious you are, Y/N," Oliver almost breathed those words right into your mouth.

He pulled himself up to you, and you felt his hard cock pressing against you. You put your hand on it, which made Oliver exhale sharply. Resting on his hands, he lifted up a little while you caressed it with your hand. He looked lasciviously at you, as your hand was moving up and down, stroking his dick. Then he hugged you and rolled over on the bed with you, and you were on top now. You sank lower, carefully wrapping your lips around his cock. He tilted his head back, mouth half open. The feel of your soft lips and warm tongue almost drove Oliver crazy. He put one hand in your hair, gently running it through.

"Yes, dear Y/N, that's it..."

"My sweet Y/N..."

Then you, without stopping your actions, looked him straight in the eyes. It was too much, and Oliver groaned and gently released you, turning you back down under him. His cock was harder than the steel of any sword that was in this manor.

"Do you know what is the best thing about a karaoke night, besides your amazing number?" asked Oliver and gave the answer himself, "It's that you can scream and moan all over the house, as loudly as you want. Or whatever I want it to be."

Those words flooded you with moisture, and at that moment Oliver entered you.

He gave you a moment to adjust to his size, his cock completely filling you up as he was buried deep inside of you. He exhaled, full of admiration and lust.

"Gods, Y/N, you’re so tight," he said breathlessly, kissing you. You started moaning into his mouth as he began to move. The pace of his hips was leisurely at the start, gently rolling into yours, your eyes were connected to each other. His strong arms caged your twitching body under him. It all felt so good you were afraid that you might just woke up from some kind of dream or fantasy that you had, thinking of Oliver and falling asleep.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as he increased his pace. Soon, the speed of his pounding becoming relentless as his panting and your own moans. You wrapped your legs around his body, nails digging into his back as you gave him the perfect angle to go even deeper into you.

“Fuck, girl, moan for me, yeah. Let the whole house know who is giving it to you, that pleasure,” Oliver’s hot whisper almost burned your skin.

You let out the loudest groan as he began slamming into you, driving to the edge of existence. The entire floor was really filled with your screams of pleasure, echoing in the dark. His hips slap against yours loudly, shaking the old bed. He clenched his teeth, watching the way your doe eyes look up at him, eyes were full of sensuality and desire. Oh, how beautiful and docile you were, he could not believe himself it was all happening at least.

You clenched around him and soon you arched your back, his name fell from your lips. He followed later soon, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he was doing last movements with his hips.

You went soft and limp under him as he panted with his hoarse voice in your ear. Oliver exhaled contentedly, triumphantly smirking.

You changed your position by lying down next to each other. For a while, you both just lay silently in bed, recovering your breath and feeling the spreading bliss to every cell of your bodies. Quick began to slowly and gently stroke and caress your body, leaving a weightless touch on your skin. He gently brushed two knuckles of his finger against your soft cheek.

"Oliver," you whispered into the darkness.

"Yes, Y/N?" he said, playing with your hair.

"Tell me, you've liked me since Oxford, haven't you? At first, I didn't even realise it, but in recent days I've been thinking so much about our acquaintance and how you looked at me then… So I thought it might be true..."

Oliver chuckled softly.

"Yes, my clever Y/N, you're absolutely right. I lost my head about you nearly as soon as I saw you. Seems you can't hide the truth from you."

You smiled, snuggling closer to him, "It's so good that you also got to Saltburn this summer," you mused, "Maybe, it is some kind of fate."

Oliver smiled at your words, gently tucking a lock behind your ear.

"Yes, I guess, it is."

The mixture of satisfaction, happiness and alcohol acted on you like a magic potion, and soon you peacefully fell asleep on his shoulder. Oliver was very glad that it was your room and you didn't have to be disturbed in any way. Saltburn had his own eyes and ears, it was not worth creating unnecessary rumors now. He wasn't in a position here to be able to afford it, at least, not now.

He kissed you gently on the temple and carefully left your bed, dressing up in his tuxedo and returning to the living room.

The fun continued. The hunt was a success.

[nastyc2nt]

Hanta sero being the biggest fuck boy around, and izuku being sensitive and inexperienced leads to many things

Like izuku begging sero to teach him to fuck you. And trust me he’s writhing. Red faced, maybe teary. He’s so embarrassed. And sero just drinks it up. “Yeah? You want me to teach you to fuck your girl?” Or something slightly condescending.

Of course hanta agrees cause you’re hot. So he’s sitting behind you, against the headboard. While he shows izuku how to make you cum in every way.

First lesson was fingers, second was tongue, third was his dick. And after was toys he lended you both. Fingers started out tricky, but sero was fairly hands on, resulting in four fingers in you rather than two. Izukus personal favourite was the vibrators. Something about being as desperate and pathetic as him, turned him on.

Something about the condescending attitude plus the whiny pathetic behaviour goes crazy. (Side note. If you want it to be even more freaky. Make izuku the fuckboy and bakugo the pathetic one. “I guess you’ll always be second place to me kacchan.’ Or something even more diva-ish.)

🫀

I’m literally going crazy, i wouldn’t have thought of this on my own and i’m so grateful you brought this to my attention—

Sero is a very good choice because he’s so experienced!! Poor Izuku wouldn’t know what to do, he’s never had a girlfriend before!!

She/Her and Born at birth anatomy.

{idk where katsuki came in from, but I literally breath for cocky izuku. Will make a small dabble if you send in something about cocky izuku and katsuki}

{Also saw chubby reader for some reason- BUT EVERYTHINH WORKS}

✦ ──────── ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ──────── ✦

“Don’t just whine,” sero sternly shouted at the green haired man that was too lost in your pussy to think of anything else. Izuku has been trying so hard to learn everything, and has been getting so turned on with how pathetic you looked when you’ve been overstimulated.

“M’sorry,” he opened his eyes and focused on fucking you just right instead of his own needs, he tries to reach deep and use his cock with the tips sero gave him! And he listened to how you like it as well.

Sero rolls his eyes and grabs izukus hand from behind you, his other hand still grabbing your waist and you lean back onto his chest. “Play with her clit like a man! I thought the number one hero could please his girlfriend,” he looks down at you, your eyes half open as you look at your boyfriend. He recalled your defenses against izuku being a bad lover throughout the evening but never once said no, or that what sero did wasn’t right.

You moan and whimper when izuku started to play with your overused clit and started to squirm underneath both their holds, but sero made sure to keep you still. “See? Ain’t that a precious sight,” he hated to admit, if you were to find yourself single — he’d fuck you so good. But he has more respect for izuku then to pull you away from him.

Izuku had enough of the hunger in Seros eyes, he knew it was strange to get jealous when he literally asked for this.

You yelped when izuku pressed your leg up higher and inched his body closer, his legs almost crushing you, “Gonna cum?” Izuku egged on. sero watches him start to pump your guts, and the sound from your lips and pussy is so good it makes him hard. Izuku was rough now to, his hand making a imprint on your leg that he held closer to your head, and his hand still playing with your clit.

Sero smirks, proud of Izuku gaining confidence and fucking like a man. “Damn, fuckin’ her rough? I knew you were like a rabbit.”

¡!Don’t repost my posts on other websites, don’t translate them, theses are for me to publish on my own!!

Taglist: @sparklylanddetective @fvitos

[lucysarah-c]

Mother's smile

Summary: Raging war, it turns boys into men. Author note: Since the Marley world seemed to be around the 30s-40s, I’ll set this idea in a world that looks like the mid-50s. This is POST WAR. I've no idea what is this... the idea just came into my mind. Warnings: None...Angst? Perhaps? Word count: 3.8k Pairing: Dad! Levi x Mom! Reader

The muscles of his body twitched as he ran up and down, changing the train’s platform to return home. His hair flowed in the air, almost freezing from the bitter cold. He could feel the icy air biting at his undercut and chilling everything in its path. Exhaustion escaped with every puff of his reddened lips, the air condensing in front of his face. Yet, he kept running, desperate to connect one train to another.

If he didn’t time it perfectly, his family might begin to suspect he wasn't going to practice. He had quickly changed back into his regular school uniform in one of the train station's public bathrooms.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a couple of girls. They couldn't be older than him, mumbling and locking eyes. He had no time to dwell on it, but he couldn't ignore it either. It was becoming a regular occurrence. People were starting to recognize him in the crowded streets of the capital.

"Why?" he wondered, even though he knew the answer. But he reasoned, "There are TV stars and movie actresses who take the train… I'm nobody."

He knew. Ever since someone took unauthorized pictures of him during practice, fully suited up, and they were posted first in the Paradise newspaper and then spread worldwide.

"Oh my- Sorry!" He almost tripped over someone. He quickly dodged a mother carrying two kids. "I’m SO sorry," he insisted.

"Please, something for my kids," she pleaded.

Levi's intuition told him something had been off lately.

"I’m so sorry… I have nothing," he replied, feeling a deep pang in his heart. The hunger and misery on the streets had only worsened since the war restarted.

—

"Could you set the table, love? Dinner is almost ready," Y/N said, breaking his deep thoughts as she handed him a pile of dishes. "It's just that the pot is old, and if I stop stirring it-"

"Sure," Levi quickly replied, not needing any further explanation. He stood up, grabbed the dishes, and wobbled a bit on his way to the dining room. "Tch," he clicked his tongue as he checked the clock. This was usually his son's duty.

Speak of the devil, the front door swung open. "I’M HOME!" Adrien shouted as he entered. 'Finally,' Levi thought. It was winter, and it got dark outside rather quickly.

"Welcome home, dear," Y/N said, peeking over from the kitchen to see her son taking off his shoes and coat in the hall. He quickly moved to give her a kiss on the cheek. "I was starting to wonder."

"I'm fine, I'm fine, mom," Adrien said, hurriedly.

"Dinner is ready," Y/N announced.

Adrien rushed into the dining room and almost bumped into his father.

"Where the hell have you been?" Levi demanded, almost pushing the dishware into his son’s arms.

"Sorry, I'll do it-" Adrien began, but as soon as he got closer, Levi grimaced in disgust.

"Shower, now. You stink," Levi commanded, holding onto the dishes.

Adrien took a quick sniff and seemed puzzled by his father's reaction. Groaning, he quickly moved upstairs. Levi frowned and continued setting the table. "The hormones are certainly working," he muttered.

Adrien had been arriving slightly late recently, not enough to raise concern but enough to annoy Levi. "The train services are delayed by the power outages…" Y/N tried to explain. These issues had become common since the war resumed and was edging closer to home as Paradise's forces, led by a queen Levi once helped put on the throne, continued their campaign.

Unauthorized pictures of his son had made it to the front page. His baby boy, photographed by spies. 'They fucking did not.' HIS baby boy, mocked by Paradise's news.

Initially, Levi thought it was a fluke. He went to grab the morning's newspaper at the front door and noticed the front page was missing. 'Maybe the boy tore it without realizing,' he thought. The delivery was usually smooth, so he dismissed it. He figured he could grab another edition on his way to his meeting. But when he saw it, his blood boiled.

Levi was furious. He broke every personal vow he had made to himself, that whatever war Paradise and the Jaegerists wanted to get into after almost 15 years post-Rumbling was none of his business. But taking pictures of HIS son and making fun of him? He made calls to people he hadn’t spoken to in years and simply stated, "Keep my son’s name out of your fucking mouth."

Adrien had been offered personal 3DMG training by the government from a very young age. Levi and Y/N were not naive. They knew since Adrien was a little kid why the government wanted him. He was Levi’s only child. The only available Ackerman after Levi and Mikasa stopped the Rumbling.

Levi had decided to break ties with the Paradise government because they continued to support the Jaegerists. He moved to another country, seeking peace for his family. That country was one of the few places the Rumbling hadn't devastated. He, Onkopop, Falco, Gabi, his wife, and his kids lived a peaceful life for many years.

Falco and Gabi eventually moved out as they grew older, though they visited frequently. Levi wanted to give his kid the childhood he never had. But he couldn't protect him forever. Adrien had insisted on practicing with 3DMG after being offered the chance as a kid. Levi stood firm on his decision. No. It was a firm no for months. Adrien was going to have a normal childhood, playing sports with his classmates and eating lunches packed by his mother. Levi had moved across the globe for his family to live without war, his family by blood and the one he made along the way.

The door slammed, surprising him. The family dog rushed to bark at the sound.

"Addy? You okay, kiddo?" Gabi asked, as they were still living with them. Hearing his son's name, Levi got up and walked as fast as his injuries allowed. It was too early for Adrien to be back from school. Also, Levi was the one who usually picked him up.

Wobbling, he reached the bedroom door, which was unusually closed. Even before he reached it, his heart began to ache as he could hear his 7-year-old boy's muffled cries. Adrien's chubby legs dangled from the edge of his bed, his face buried in the pillow.

"Oi, oi, oi," Levi said softly as he reached the bed and tried to gently push Adrien’s shoulder to the side to see his face. Adrien resisted. "Kid, what happened? Why are you back from school?"

Levi's mind raced, searching for injuries, any sign of hurt. Trying to come up with reasons, his brain was haunted by his baby’s endless tears.

"They kicked me off the team," Adrien finally managed to say between sobs. "The mothers complained that it’s not fair that I play."

Levi's heart sank. It had been hard for Adrien to make friends as a kid from another country, and he was obsessed with baseball since being allowed to join the team. He loved having a group of friends.

"I hate it, I hate it!" Adrien's soul-breaking cries echoed as his young mind couldn't comprehend the reasons. "Why can't I be normal?"

Levi forced himself out of his shock, slightly shaking his head to clear his mind. "Don’t say that. You’re normal. I'll talk to your teachers-"

Talking had never been his strength. He wished his wife was home.

“No, I’m not! All my friends look at me weirdly! Nobody wants to play with me anymore!” Adrien screamed at the top of his lungs. The frustration of his father not understanding only added salt to the wound. “I hate it!”

“No, Adrien—I'll talk—”

“I hate being an Ackerman!”

Levi felt as if he had been stabbed in the heart. White noise filled his head, merging with the sound of his son’s cries. Levi argued with himself that it shouldn’t have hurt as deeply as it did. “He’s just a kid who wants to play with the others,” he thought, remembering all the arguments he’d had with sports teams.

“It’s just not fair to the other kids, Mr. Ackerman.”

‘Next time, just point to my head,’ he thought bitterly. Watching his son sit on the benches with doe-like red eyes, trying to hold back tears at school, haunted Levi. He had come to pick him up and was forced to stay behind while the rest of the team practiced.

Falco and Gabi tried to play with him when they had free time, but they had their own responsibilities. Levi himself tried to play with Adrien as much as his injured leg allowed, but how fun could a one-on-one game be?

For many months, Levi refused to let Adrien take special training offered by the government. He knew they only saw his son as a potential new weapon.

“Daddy, did you see me? Did you see me?” Adrien’s face lit up with a smile that seemed too big for it, brimming with excitement after mastering a new 3DMG trick.

“Mm-hmm,” Levi hummed in approval, watching his son with a mix of pride and concern.

“He’s a prodigy, sir,” the female soldier standing next to him remarked. “You must be such a proud father.”

Levi’s death stare could hardly be disguised as he clenched his teeth. ‘This is wrong,’ he thought, but his hand, missing two fingers, reached for the Polaroid camera and took a picture. ‘It can’t be that wrong… if he’s smiling like this.’

“And then I twist! And then I jump! And then I—” Adrien rambled on excitedly at the dinner table.

“Addy, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Y/N gently reprimanded him, but he continued to beam, bright and cheerful, happy.

If teaching his boy everything he knew about 3DMG made him smile again, then perhaps it was worth it. He did it for his baby, only for his baby.

Adrien had grown into a moody teenager who now stole his car and rarely talked to Levi without an attitude. Levi wasn’t usually the melancholic type, but he missed the days when he was greeted at home with tight hugs and dreamy eyes.

Now, the war was getting closer to home. Paradise, untouched during the Rumbling, was growing increasingly tense. The Jaegerists wanted to finish what Eren had started, and the new regime wasn’t open to negotiation. They demanded blood; they demanded fire.

Admiring his reflection in the mirror, Levi noted how tired he looked. Time was unforgiving. He spotted several grey hairs among what used to be pristine raven locks. History seemed to be repeating itself, and sometimes he felt like he had fought for nothing. Small towns that were slowly rebuilding after the Rumbling were falling under the power of an island he had once defended with his blood and sweat.

The tie felt tight around his neck as he adjusted the bow tie. He had been asked—almost forced—to attend a charity event to raise funds for displaced refugees and military forces. They had declared war only a few months ago, and he felt strangely hopeless. “I’m just old,” he whispered to himself.

“Hey…”

Levi turned to his left to see his 16-year-old son leaning against the door frame with folded arms.

“Hey,” Levi greeted back cautiously. “I’ve no money,” he added quickly, the interaction feeling odd since Adrien rarely came into the couple’s bedroom, much less to talk to him.

Adrien rolled his eyes so dramatically Levi thought he might tear a muscle. “I wasn’t going to ask for anything!”

The teenager walked in and sat down on the bed, petting the cat. His long face and distant, translucent eyes were hard to ignore. Levi watched him for a while before turning back to the mirror to continue getting ready. The silence was so heavy it felt like breathing steam from the Colossal Titan.

After several minutes, Adrien's voice broke the silence, trembling with emotion. “You… you know I love you, Dad, right?”

Levi turned around, frowning deeply. “… What did you do?” he asked instinctively.

“Nothing!” Adrien's defensive tone only made him more suspicious.

“You got a chick knocked up?” Levi guessed quietly.

“W-what?!” Adrien’s face turned beet red with embarrassment. “NO!”

“What—”

“NOTHING! I did nothing!” Adrien protested, jumping up from the bed and heading for the door. “I’m never saying it again, you old man!”

The door slammed, and Levi clenched his teeth. The mood swings were something he wasn’t used to, no matter how hard he tried. Levi clicked his tongue. ‘What’s gotten into him lately?’

That was the issue; everything had been slightly off. Not enough to raise serious concerns, but as Levi walked downstairs to leave for the event, his mind kept replaying the scene in their bedroom. ‘Something smells off.’

‘I may be getting fucking old, but I’m not crazy.’

“He’s trying to grow up. Let’s show him that we trust him. Let’s give him some freedom, as long as he respects the curfew,” Y/N had tried to explain that shutting their son off wasn’t going to help.

Adrien’s insistence on coming home on his own… Levi had always driven him to and from school, especially since the school was quite far away by public transport. After the photo incident, Levi didn’t feel it was safe for his kid to walk back alone.

The front page of the newspaper had been missing the day his boy’s picture and the Paradise headline appeared:

“The Ackerman’s Cub: As Harmless as a Pussycat.”

Levi cursed at the memory, yanking his coat from the hanger by the door. Arms in—

It was too big.

He looked down at the sleeves, which hung past his hands. A part of his ego cracked a little—it was his son’s coat. His baby boy was growing non-stop, now 193 cm tall.

“Soon, he won’t fit through the damn door,” Levi muttered, half offended, half endeared. He wondered if he would have grown that tall if he hadn’t suffered so much as a child. “He truly inherited Kenny’s height,” his wife would say as their kid grew taller and taller.

Putting on his own coat—it was freezing outside—Levi sat in his car, but his mind kept circling back to it.

Adrien arriving late by only 10-15 minutes. His recent attitude wasn’t just typical teenage sulkiness; it was different. Adrien was distant but not moody.

Already at the party, Onyankopon, Falco, Gabi, and Y/N were talking around him, but Levi wasn’t there, at least not mentally. Call it the universe, call it signs, call it his Ackerman instincts. Call it what you want. But Levi knew something wasn’t right.

Suddenly, fragments of memories from the past month flashed through his mind. They hadn’t seemed suspicious at the time, just slightly unusual. Like that moment when he picked up something from Y/N’s boudoir table and got pricked by a needle.

“Ow,” he muttered, though it didn’t really hurt.

“Oh, I left a needle out? I thought I put it away,” she said innocently, placing it back in the sewing box.

Or when he was walking down the upper floor’s hall and noticed the string hanging from the attic hatch swaying. “Y/N, did you go to the attic?”

“No, why?”

“Nothing…” He meant to ask Adrien about it but got distracted by the teen blasting his record player.

Levi opened the door without knocking. He had warned Adrien to keep the door open multiple times. The teenager quickly turned down the rock music. “Hey!” Adrien complained, but Levi didn’t care.

“How many times do I have to tell you to keep the volume down? I’m half-blind; don’t make me deaf too,” Levi ordered. Before leaving, he added, “And get your shoes off the bed.”

Levi’s leg tapped against the floor uneasily. Something was not right. The silence of his brain seeking a logical explanation was becoming deafening. His wife squeezed his arm, drawing his attention.

“Captain Ackerman,” a man approached them, bowing slightly out of respect. Levi’s days as a captain were long gone, but he never lost the title in the eyes of some. “It’s an honor…”

The man’s hands fidgeted nervously as a timid smile appeared on his face. He pressed his lips together, wet them, and then opened them as if trying to find the right words. “It must fill your heart with pride that you and your family stood up in such a difficult situation and did the right thing. As a representative of the Eldian community outside Paradise, we don’t stand with the Jaegerist decisions—”

Levi dismissed him quickly. “No need to praise me,” he cut in, anticipating the man’s gratitude for his role in the fight against Eren during the Rumbling. “I fought for what I believed was right.”

The man’s face twisted in confusion. “No—I…” he stammered, his previous uneasiness turning to confusion. “I wanted to thank you and acknowledge your family’s altruistic action.”

“No need—”

“I mean, it must be an honor but also extremely hard for you as a father to allow your son to volunteer for the front lines.”

It hit Levi like a thunder spear, just as the one he had once used against Zeke. As if the explosion had gone off right next to him, and he could only hear the ringing in his ears. Y/N’s grip on his arm loosened in shock before her nails dug in as the realization sank in.

Despite his Ackerman powers, Levi felt control over his body slip away as his legs shook. It felt impossible to breathe as he drove back home as fast as he could, but it surely felt as if his lungs caught no oxygen.

He slammed the door open, his injured leg giving way as he rushed upstairs to his son’s bedroom. Pain fading into nothing as it once did during the war. The white noise in his brain was shattered by Y/N’s piercing scream when they found the bedroom empty, except for a single paper note on the made bed. Falco held Y/N as she broke down in tears.

Levi’s face remained expressionless, but it felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest. Holding the note in his hands, he sank onto the mattress. The bed where he had once read Mother Goose stories.

“I’m sorry… I just couldn’t sit back and do nothing.

P.S. Sorry for the coat.”

His baby, his baby boy. The mere thought of Adrien witnessing even half of what he had as a soldier brought tears to Levi’s eyes, a knot forming in his throat. His child, stolen from his arms, dragged into the chaos like pigs to a slaughterhouse. Everything Levi had fought for, everything he had done…

If only he hadn’t used that thunder spear, he would be as good as new. He would have fought a thousand wars and led a thousand more just to keep his baby safe at home. To wake up to Y/N making his favorite waffles on a lazy Sunday morning.

It should have been him. He should have been in better shape. If only—

After a few days, Levi understood what Adrien meant about the coat in the note. His lost eyes fixed on the piece of clothing that had been cut. His old scout’s jacket, stored in the attic, had been altered. Adrien must have cut and sewn the Wings of Freedom patch onto something else. The house had become a cemetery since the day Adrien left. Y/N hadn’t been able to sleep soundly as she usually did, waking at the slightest sound.

“I thought I heard the front door,” she said, as Levi tried to calm her down in the middle of the night.

Levi hated rock music; he found it too noisy. But one afternoon, he felt compelled to put on one of Adrien’s records. Each second felt like it was squeezing the life out of him.

As the days passed, the missing front page of the newspaper became a sign enough. The news arrived loudly at their home.

“Undaunted. As the higher-ranks abandoned the zone, giving up the strategic petrol supply, Adrien Ackerman held the front lines and won.

A kid worth an entire army, honoring his name.”

Levi’s eyes scanned the paragraphs without emotion. “While all wore the same uniform, Ackerman decided to stick a striking patch to his. ‘They called me powerless, so I made myself an easy target. If they want to come for me, let them come, and I’ll put up a fight,’” the article quoted Adrien.

A scoff escaped Levi’s lips; he had surely inherited his temper.

“I cut and stuck the article to my locker to remind myself who I have to show their place,” Adrien replied when asked about the Paradise press’s coverage.

“LEVI!” Y/N’s voice echoed through the house. He rushed to her side with worry, only to find her smiling softly and sobbing as she watched the black-and-white TV.

The screen showed his baby boy, his comrades ruffling his hair, beer bottles flying in celebration, and citizens offering him drinks. They hadn’t won the war, but it was clear this victory was much needed to lift their spirits. People looked at Adrien with starry eyes, much like they had looked at Levi after their first wins against the Titans.

Levi’s lips trembled as he bit the inside of his cheeks, trying to hold his composure.

“He’s alright,” Y/N whispered, slightly relieved. “God, he got your knack for giving me a heart attack.”

She tried to joke, but noticing her husband’s silence, she turned around. “Oh… Lev…” she sighed, quickly moving to hug him tightly.

Tears streamed down Levi’s cheeks as he watched his baby on the screen, basking in the attention and hope he gave to others. They hadn’t won the war, but for now, it was enough.

“We knew deep down we couldn’t shelter him forever,” Y/N said, caressing him. She understood the weight now on Adrien’s shoulders, responsibilities that had haunted Levi for many years. She sighed, making peace with herself. A part of her had known from the moment she gave birth to an Ackerman that this day would come.

However, through watery eyes, Levi saw something different. Watching the young man on the screen, Levi whispered with a broken voice the same words he had said when Adrien was born.

“He got your smile.”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @storiesofsung @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @r3becca_0 @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @hyuckwon-my-husbands @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[cheolhub]

sarrrrrrr🩷 happy bday to cheolhub!!! you are fr one of my favourite accounts on here. i always get so happy seeing ur name pop up on the dash whdjshsjs, i hope you’re doing well & drinking your water & looking after yourself 🫶

coulddddd i possibly req ❛ let me come in you, please. i want to fill you up. ❜ & precious vernon for your event? 🫶

8:01 p.m. – hansol vernon chwe

prompt. “let me come in you, please. i want to fill you up.”

wc. 2k+ 

warnings. unprotected sex for the first time, creampie, saying ‘i love you’ during sex, pet names [baby], a very needy couple ^^!!! — MINORS DNI 18+

note. j u are too sweet im gonna cry !!! thank you thank you thank you !!! i love u sm, i hope u like this >< i’ve been wanting to write vernon a lot recently so i went a little bit overboard with this one,,,, and it’s not my best so i apologize bsgsgs [not proofread, kinda rushed]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ join the birthday bash!  ࿐ྂ

hansol vernon chwe has never been one for public displays of affection. any type of affection– kissing, hugging, holding hands, etc. it’s just awkward. it always is and he’d rather keep it to himself. keep you to himself.

and vernon is usually so patient when it comes to his hunger for you. he’s so virtuous and so composed. it’s admirable, really. but there are nights, like this one in particular, where he just wants to sink his teeth into you and mercilessly fuck you into the mattress. 

these nights don’t come by very often. they rarely ever do, honestly. he only thinks tonight is different because he hasn’t touched you in over a week. there was no real reason for it, you just kept missing each other due to your taxing schedules. 

so you planned a date on a night that you knew you were both free. something nice, giving you an excuse to doll yourself up for your boyfriend. 

you did exactly that and vernon’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he picked you up from your apartment. he thought you looked so fucking pretty. you looked so pretty gazing out the window in the passenger seat of his car. you looked so fucking pretty when you kindly laughed at the waiters joke (that wasn’t the slightest bit funny). you look so fucking pretty when you asked him, “are you okay, baby?” 

he wasn’t. how could he be okay when all he wanted was to put his hands on you and inhale the scent of your seductive perfume? how could he be okay when his cock was straining in his pants begging to be inside of you? how the fuck could he be okay when he needed you so fucking bad?  

of course, you could tell he was anything but fine. your boyfriend was stoic sometimes, but he always wears his emotions all over his pretty face. his carnal desire became obvious when he placed his hand on your thigh, squeezing at your flesh. and even more obvious when he pressed a few kisses to your jaw. and then blatantly obvious when he pressed his lips to the shell of your ear and said, “i’d rather eat something else.”

so you ate half your meal, paid the bill, and got the hell out of there because, if you were being completely transparent, you missed the way his cock felt inside of you. you missed tugging at his hair and marking his skin and the messy, messy kisses you always share. you missed him and a week apart from your lover was 5 days way too long. 

he’s already pressing his lips to the back of your neck by the time you get up to your apartment’s door, leaving wet kisses on your scolding hot skin. it’s distracting and your hands keep fumbling the keys, but you eventually get the two of you in. you lock the door and he practically chases you to your room, both of you breathily giggling. 

upon arrival, his hands are grasping and pulling at the clothing on your body in attempts to rip them off while yours do the same with his.

“need you so bad, baby.” he mumbles during his conquest, pulling almost everything off of you. 

when he sees the pretty set underneath your date outfit, he’s left breathless. shocked. and it’s not because he’s never seen you in something this pretty, but it’s that he’s right about to bust a load in his jeans. 

he groans, “fuck, i think i’m gonna cum.” 

“you’re cute.” you smile cheekily, pulling him on the bed with you. “better not be before i get to feel you, though.” 

“i’ll try,” he grunts, his cock twitching and throbbing in what feels like the world’s tightest boxers. 

you lay against your plush pillows, slipping your panties off and throwing them to the side, exposing your soaked pussy to the cool air that circulates through your room. you suck in through your teeth, spreading your legs open. “condom?” you ask expectantly.

he furrows his brows. “you don’t have any?”

you crack a grin at the frown that appears on his face when you shake your head. “you’re the one with a dick here! you should always keep one on you for emergencies. this would’ve been the perfect emergency.” 

“baby, we used all my emergency condoms and i forgot to buy more.” he huffs in frustration. “i can just run to the market and grab some. it’s not that big of a deal.” 

it is a big deal. his cock is aching.

you look at him in awe, “you’re that desperate? you’re gonna go all the way to the store and buy condoms, hansol?”

not that you’re any less desperate the way you clench around nothing and ruin the sheets under you.

he deadpans at your subtle teasing, “yes.” 

you hum, stomach twisting in anticipation at a vulgar thought that pops into your head. 

he could… just not use one.

he could fuck you raw and you could feel everything. “what if…” you shudder before you can even get the thought out. “what if we don’t use one?”

you think his face drains of color. “w-what?” he stutters, unsure if he heard you correctly. “baby… what did you say?”

you bite your lip for a second, feeling heat spread like wildfire through your entire body. “we can do it… without the condom. if you want?”

vernon is going to cum– untouched, in fact–  just at the mere thought of it. of-fucking-course he wants to, what kind of idiot would pass that up? (read: someone who isn’t actually an idiot)

“what about…” he trails off as his wide eyes look at your tummy. 

“i started birth control a while ago, baby, don’t worry.” you whisper. “it’s only if you're comfortable… but i’m okay with it… i trust you. and i wanna feel you.”

his heart pounds erratically and he’s tugging his boxers down before he can even form a proper response. his hard, leaky cock slaps against his abdomen and all either of you can think about is how it’ll feel without the latex barrier. 

he breathes out his words, as he presses against your drooling hole. “i’ll pull out.” 

“okay, baby.” you pant, hands already gripping at the sheets in preparation. 

though, you fear there was nothing you could do to prepare for this moment. feeling vernon’s cock— all of it— is amazing. heavenly… hot. you find yourself wishing you would’ve done this a lot earlier. you can’t believe how much of a difference there is.

you feel all the heat, all the veins that trace through his gorgeous cock, all the delicious friction and you’re fucking addicted to it. 

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” vernon moans, jaw going slack and his face pinching in euphoric pleasure. “baby, fuck, you’re so tight— feels so good.”

vernon has never felt anything so perfect in all his years. he feels your walls flutter around his bare cock as he bottoms out, finally buried deep inside of you. 

you wrap your arms around his neck and bring him down to press his mouth against yours. the entirety of the kiss is intense and passionate and you can’t think of a time you’ve felt this close to a man during sex. you can’t even recall a time you were this in love with a man.

you break, whining against his lips and tightly clenching around him. “move, please. need you to move.” 

he nods hotly, pulling his hips back and pushing them back against yours. he does this a few times, slowly thrusting into you until he builds a steady, consistent speed. the bulbous tip of his cock rams into your sweet spot with every shove. you can’t help the cry that bubbles in your chest or the way your legs wrap around his waist tightly.

“hansol,” you mewl, one of your hands snaking between your bodies and rubbing at your clit. “i-i love you.” 

he delivers a sharp thrust upon hearing your words. “i love you more, baby.” he responds with a wavered voice. “i missed you.”

you nod in agreement, clamping around him again, ultimately making vernon hiss. “me more,” you declare on a whine. 

“not a chance.” he grunts out but it falls on deaf ears. his words are practically silenced by the lewd squelching and your cute sounds that bounce off the four walls. 

and it’s all because vernon fucks you like his life depends on it. he feels your walls tightening around him with every thrust but there isn’t a single ounce of vigilance in his body. he wants to memorize every single second of this. burn all of this into his head. he wants to be able to recall the way your blunt fingernails dig into the smooth skin of his shoulders, your moans that sound even prettier in this moment, how your velvety walls flutter and pulse and grip around him as your cunt swallows him up.

his abdomen tightens, balls drawing up as he nears his desired release. before he can warn you, your breathing alarmingly picks up. your chest rises and falls rapidly, your whines and mewls get louder, you trap his cock in a tight grip, refusing to let him go, all the telltale signs of your impending orgasm. 

“vern–vernon, baby,” you gasp, back arching off the bed and heels of your feet digging into his back. “baby, ‘m-m gonna cum. keep fucking me like that,” you plead, eyebrows coming together in gratification. 

he obliges, snapping his hips against yours over and over till the tightrope in your tummy snaps. you come undone choking on a dry sob as your body seizes underneath his. you’re panting unevenly as you go lax, limp body weakly clinging to his as you attempt to come down from your high.

your orgasm is almost too much. too overstimulating for how high strung vernon is. he’s just about ready to explode, but he can’t bear to leave your spasming cunt. 

“baby, i— god, i-i know it’s not safe— fuck—“ he babbles, anxiously panting out his words. “i know… know it’s not safe—but let me cum in you, please. i want to fill you up.” 

you cry, nodding your head and weakly clamping around him at the thought of his warm seed flooding your cunt. “y-yes, fuck yes. please fill me up, ‘sollie!” 

he curses under his breath, his cock twitching and brain fogging over at your permission. he gives you a few sloppy thrusts before he groans noisily, stilling and spilling his cum inside of you. 

he twitches ceaselessly above you as his orgasm washes over him, head digging into the crook of your neck so he can drown out all of his throaty moans. they still echo throughout the room with your whiny pants. 

the sensation of his release has your entire body surging with warmth. it has you feeling nothing but bliss and pure exhilaration— you’re on cloud nine. 

“sorry,” he murmurs into your neck as his body collapses on top of yours. “couldn’t help it.”

your hand comes to thread through his hair, scratching at his head. “‘s okay, ‘sol.”  you mumble back. “felt really good. don’t worry.”

“do you need a plan b?”

you snort, shaking your head. “no, i don’t think so, baby. told you i’m on the pill now.” 

he lets out a breath— probably one of relief— followed by a muffled, “then… can we do this again soon?”

you smile, “yeah, babe, we can do this again soon.” 

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[humiliatingsluts2]

Pain Puppy

I’m experimenting more with true stories. I’ve also started to realise my long stories were getting overwhelming and reducing my motivation to write. I will hopefully continue The Good Neighbour eventually, but for now I’m writing self contained pieces. Anyway, I got a few people asking about me cucking a lesbian, so here you are.

We’d matched on an app, and her profile was fun and a little alternative. “Pan, poly, kinky” suggests certain things about a person. She was flirty, and when we discussed kinks we realised we had a lot in common. It didn’t take long to set a date. I’d like to say we had a romantic evening or something, but we met and went straight to hers after work. She was cute, and funny in a deeply online way; the sort of girl who has a favourite politics streamer and is poly for intellectual reasons as much as emotional.

We got to hers and almost immediately we’re making out on her bed. She’s wearing a cute black dress. I pull back from our kiss and look her up and down: “Strip.” She stands and does as she’s told. I can see the hunger in her face when I command her. I grope her body, feeling her submit to my touch. I stand too, and tell her to kneel for me. She nearly melts to the floor.

I take hold of her hair and pull her to my crotch. She nuzzles her face against my jeans and I feel her tongue try to trace my cock. I let her kiss my cock through my jeans for a while, then pull her back and undo my belt and jeans. She sticks out her tongue and I put my fingers in her mouth, lightly gagging her. I take my drooly fingers and rub them across her face, and she moans. I tug her back to my crotch, and now I can feel her tongue licking across my boxers.

I look down and make eye contact, and ask her if she wants it in her mouth. She nods and I smirk, “Use your words.” She blushed but nodded,

“Please, let me suck your cock, please.” I held her face by her chin and made her watch as I tugged down my boxers and let my cock bounce against her face. She immediately opened her mouth and started sucking.

I knew she loved face fucking, in fact while still both fully clothed she’d told me one of her fantasies was puking on cock. I took full advantage and pushed her deeper onto my cock. She gagged but took it all. I held her all the way down my cock and spat, covering her face in my spit. She moaned around my cock. I kept fucking her throat slowly. I was moaning and telling her how good her throat felt, praising her for being a good slut.

One thing we hadn’t discussed was rimming, so when I pulled my cock from her throat and slapped her face, I paused and asked, “Do you eat ass, slut?” She nodded enthusiastically and I laid back on the bed, offering her my ass and balls. She knelt and buried herself under my balls, licking and kissing. I’d told her I liked sloppy and messy, and she was performing. Every time she pulled away she would spit up drool onto her chin and down her tits.

I let her work for a while, and then I wanted to hurt her. She loved pain, and so I started with her lying face down on the bed. While she had plenty of toys, I started with just my hand, to understand her limits with more control. She whined and moaned as I hit her harder and harder. I made her thank me after each spank, and she struggled to form the words as I got rougher. Eventually I flipped her on her back and fingered her, this time hurting her tits. I twisted and pinched her nipples and I could tell the pain was pushing her close. I sat over her face and smothered her in my ass while I fingered her and tortured her tits. She moaned and begged for more, and I made her cum with her tongue in my asshole.

Now I needed to fuck her, and so she spread her legs and I filled her. I didn’t stop hurting her, slapping her face and spitting on her while I fucked her hard. She loved all the pain I could give her. Eventually, I pulled out and made her get between my legs again. I wanted to cum with her rimming me, and I made her lick and worship my ass and balls while I jerked off. Watching an obedient girl lapping at my ass is one of the hottest sights in the world. Finally I came hard, and she hungrily licked every drop of cum from my body. She collapsed on top of me and I told her what a good puppy slut she had been.

Now, what has this got to do with cucking? She’s poly and has multiple partners. I don’t know everything, but she’s a switch who cucks at least one guy and one girl. So both of them heard every detail of how she submitted and served me, and how much they were missing. Perhaps they’ll even see this post.

—

Follow me for new writing every Friday.

[holylulusworld]

Torn in two - Angstober 19

Summary: It should’ve been the happiest day of your life.

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader (platonic for now)

Warnings: heavy angst, Steve being the worst, cheating, lies, deception, sadness, arranged marriage, unrequited love

Square filled for @steverogersbingo 2023 (expired): E4: Unrequited

Square filled for @steverogersbingo 2024: D3: Crime/Mafia

Trope: angst

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

Should’ve. Could’ve. Would’ve. You never understood the meaning of the song until today. What a difference a day can make, huh?

Not hours ago, you twirled in your white wedding gown, giggling like a schoolgirl because you were about to marry the man you loved and adored for so long.

Everything seemed perfect. Your wedding gown. The ceremony. Your husband. For a moment, you believed you’d get your happily ever after.

That was, of course, until you discovered the truth behind his commitment. Not love and devotion but greed and power hunger were the reasons for his proposal.

One day earlier, after your wedding ceremony, …

You smile as Steve holds your hand tightly. Even though your marriage was arranged by your father, Steve promised you could make it work. You never doubted that your marriage would be anything but happy. For years, you have been hopelessly devoted to Steve, and your heart only ever belonged to him.

He was the one who needed time to confess his love to you. Your father doesn’t need to know that you would’ve married Steve with or without his involvement.

“My love,” Steve whispers lowly, “we should welcome our guests at the party. How about you greet your friends? I’ll talk to Sam and James.”

You nod, but hat that Steve lets go of your hand to walk toward his friends. Sighing, you look around the crowded room.

While you walk around the crowded room to greet your guests, chatting with them, Steve, Sam, and Bucky leave the room to talk in private.

You frown. Why would your groom leave his party to talk to his friend? He can talk to them any other day.

Curiosity is getting the best out of you. Before one of the guests can stop you from sneaking out of the ballroom too, you excuse yourself, lying about using the bathroom.

“You must be all over the moon." Bucky can’t hide the jealousy written all over his face. Steve Rogers, the golden boy, always seems to get the best in life. “You’ve got this pretty wife, and to spend a honeymoon with her on an exotic island.”

Steve huffs. “If only you knew.”

“What do you mean?” Sam furrows his brows. He believed his friend got his happily ever after only for Steve to look like someone kicked him in the guts. “You do not look happy for a newlywed.”

“I’d look happier if my bride was Peggy, not that spoiled brat.”

Bucky cocks his head at Steve’s words. He didn’t expect his friend to talk like this about you. “What the fuck, Steve! You just married the woman. She’s sweet and pretty. I’d kill to get a wife like that!”

“Well then, take her,” Steve spats. “I never wanted to marry her.”

“Steve, are you drunk?” Bucky grabs Steve’s upper arms, shaking him lightly. “Because if you’re not, I gotta punch the stupidity out of you.”

“Her father wanted this bond, okay? If I want to take over his empire one day, I must give him an heir. I agreed. Y/N isn’t Peggy, but she will do. After her father retires, I can divorce her and marry someone else.”

Sam’s eyes widen. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. The business is not new to him, but hearing Steve talk so lowly about you makes him sick.

“I got to go.” Sam turns on his heels and storms off, not looking back.

“Punk, you can’t be serious." Bucky looks his friend in the eyes. “Please tell me you tried to be funny, and we can laugh about your not-funny joke.”

Unbeknownst to the friends, you stand a few feet away, clasping one hand over your mouth. Hot tears spill from your eyes as you try to fathom what you just witnessed.

You put a brave face on and hold your head high. This is your wedding, and you won’t let anyone see how torn your heart truly is.

After hearing the truth and crying for half an hour in the bathroom, you freshened up your makeup and decided not to give anyone at the ballroom the satisfaction of laughing about your predicament.

Even if you despise Steve now, you let him ask you for the first dance as husband and wife. You don’t look him in the eyes; instead, you look around the room, finding a similar pair of blue eyes.

Bucky watches your lips wobble, and a single tear runs down your cheek. His stomach drops because he can see you trying so hard to not show the hurt.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Steve lies through his teeth. You can see it in his eyes when you look up at him. “I like the gown.”

“Sure,” you reply with venom in your voice. “How about you dance with Peggy next, because she will be the second Mrs. Rogers, won’t she?”

He looks like someone slapped him across the face, and for the first time since he broke your heart, you smile.

“What? Got nothing to say, Steve?” You huff. “Oh, I forgot. You discuss your betrayal only in private with your buddies.”

Dropping his hand, you step away from Steve and size him up before you leave the ballroom, excusing yourself.

Now, ...

Half of town was looking for you. After you ran from the party, you were nowhere to be seen for a day. I felt like the ground opened and swallowed you whole.

That night, you should have laid in Steve’s arms; instead, you were sitting at your old apartment, crying yourself to sleep because he didn’t even try to find you. You left your phone on, and he knew where you were living.

Steve simply didn’t care enough to look for his missing wife. Maybe he even spent the night with his former lover, Peggy Carter. The woman he wanted to marry instead of you.

You can’t blame him, though. Your father loves to make promises he doesn’t intend to keep. He promised to never use you as a pawn in his business. But here you are, sitting in your wedding gown, with messed-up makeup and a broken heart.

“Doll?” Bucky sighs because he finally found you. He didn’t believe you had come to your old apartment. It’s empty except for the old armchair Steve hated and didn’t want to keep. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” you reply.

“You heard—” Bucky bites his tongue when you sniffle. “Hey, I’m sorry. Maybe Steve didn’t mean it that way. He gets a little intense sometimes.”

“I don’t think so,” you snap at Bucky. “He said loud and clearly that he wants to marry Peggy Carter after he took over my father’s empire.”

You angrily wipe the tears off your cheeks. “There is nothing to get wrong, James. Steve hates me. He lied for months. He never loved me. He'll never love me. I thought—"You look at Bucky with tear-clouded eyes.“ I waited for him, James. All those years I waited for him to see me, and when he did, I was the happiest.

“Oh,” Bucky nods, understanding your feelings very well. He has been waiting for someone to require his feelings for years, too. Only for you to marry his best friend.

“I was a fool to believe Steve Rogers could ever love me.” You raise your hands and drop them again. “How could he? I’m nothing like Peggy. She was all a man could ever want.”

“Doll,” he steps closer to crouch down next to the old armchair you’re sitting in. “What are you going to do now?”

You dip your head to look at Bucky. “I’ll get my life back. My father, Steve, and everyone else in my life always told me what to do. It’s time to stand up for myself. Don’t you think?”

Tags in reblog.

[chokchokk]

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽, 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 | song mingi x fem!reader

an ao3 requested husband!mingi one-shot

"Are you trying to challenge me?"

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : You come home stressed, feeling like the world wants only the worst from you. Good thing that your husband wants the best, right? Right...

"Baby, I would never do such a thing."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.3k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, girlboss office worker!reader, stay at home husband!mingi, praise kink, hand kink, size kink, service top!mingi, use of the pet-name “baby”, starts rougher but then gets really soft and gentle, cunnilingus, fingering, over-stimulation, passionate sex; reader and mingi are in their late 20s/early 30s, reader is a bit bratty but mingi is a brat as well, it pains writer mingi is not a sub in this FUCK, he puts reader in place just a tiny bit, but the dynamics are pretty even, reader and mingi love each other deeply

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wanted to make mingi wear a tanktop but when i digged for it THERE WAS NOTHING???? we never got tanktop!mingi selcas???? how do yall not die of hunger, no, THIRST?

anyhow. this was an ao3 request!!! i had lots of loving fun with it and i hope you do as well babes and bbies xoxo

masterlist link | join my taglist

Did you know married employees are respected more?

Well, that’s what statistics say, but you certainly have never had this observation be proven true. It’s been almost a year since the first time you’ve worn your ring at your work-place, but you still get weird looks for having settled down “too early in the relationship” at such a “young age”, as if they knew anything about your private life— so no, you don’t. You wouldn’t know anything about being respected more as a married employee, even if you’re a few working hours away from being promoted to General Manager.

You throw your keys into their respective tray and hold your nose-bridge, when you enter your house with the sound of your shoes immediately falling to the floor after you shake them off in frustration. Yes, you may have earned your money, but at what cost? To hear old people pick you out because “such a fragile thing can’t possibly handle life”, despite being their lead director, have their hairy fingers pointed towards you since “someone like Y/N needs extra checking” despite you never having missed a dead-line, and to be eyed by them while you’re just trying to get your papers— oh, fucking hell; that is, by definition, not respect, that is horror, and one more reason to finally just quit your job and—

“Baby, you’re home!”

You take deep breath.

“Here I am.”

“Allow me,” your husband hums, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his torso close to your back; he’s rubbing himself against you with the excuse that he’s helping you get that fucking bag from your hands, and you let out an exhale once the weight is removed from your grip and lands on the floor. He is masterfully not referring to the fact that you came a full hour later than the initial time you have texted him you would arrive, and rather focusing on the how your shoulders feel more tense than usual, massaging his strong thumbs into them.

“Thank you,” you sigh and lean the back of your head against his breast, for he’s towering over you like a guardian pressing gentle kisses onto your hair, making him one comfortable, cushioned wall. You feel a bit guilty for not having asked how his day went, but for all you know, he’s having a blast arranging his new studio that he wants to use in the future to produce with other music artists, but most importantly, help you earn money.

Your stay-at-home husband, Song Mingi. The man who makes it— the time, the work, the stress— all worth it.

“How do you feel, baby?”, he murmurs, kissing your temple while he’s at it. He brushed his teeth not too long ago, you can smell the remains of mint toothpaste at his lip. Is he being obvious? Yes, maybe. You're not complaining though. “Rough day?”

“Yeah,” you exhale and let yourself be touched by your husband, though it doesn’t make you as calm as it should in your heart. You’re not craving for any soft vicinity here, you want to smash something to the ground and stomp on it; you’ve spend the whole day surrounded by the loudest, noisy, dim-witted idiots who are certainly preying on your downfall if they don’t fucking—

“Tell me all about it, baby,” Mingi murmurs, his vocal chords vibrating against the back of your head, as he rests his chin on top of it. “I’m listening.”

Sometimes you ask yourself whether you would still be receiving the same comments, if your co-workers knew who Mingi was. Not because he’s some famous man to be afraid of, but because he is taller than all of them, has got a louder voice and could knock those douchebags out with his muscly arms— okay, maybe they should be afraid. Very afraid.

“No, it’s okay,” you breathe and turn around to get your arms around your husband’s waist and press your face into his collarbones that you didn’t realize were revealed. "Button up,” you murmur, almost annoyed that you can inhale Mingi’s comforting scent through the cleavage as well as you can. You wanted to stay angry for just a little bit longer, but your husband makes it nearly impossible. Not to say it doesn’t make feel you any less hot though.

“What do you mean?", Mingi pouts, "Is it not good? I showered! Just for you, baby.”

You chuckle and your lips graze his freshly-washed, freshly-lotioned baby-smooth skin. “No… It’s too good…”

Mingi gets his hands into your hair and rubs his finger tips across your scalp.

“What were you stressed about, baby?”, Mingi continues to ask you, applying a bit of pressure to his touch, his hand feeling like it’s ripping off the upper layer of your head in the best way possible.

“My co-workers hate me,” you murmur, teeth gritted. Your breast begins to slightly enflame at the thought of your co-workers’ faces, but your husband doesn’t seem to mind your tone as much, allowing your mind to roam freely.

“Hate you?”

“They, like, hate my existence.”

“What would they hate you for, baby?”, he asks, working his long fingers down to the lower side of your head, reaching for your neck to scratch it. His hand is well big enough to do all of it at the same time.

Preparing to answer his question, you inhale and exhale deeply, smelling the clothing and leaving it warm.

“They hate that… I’m already settled down at my age.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And that I am as confident about it and— and as hard-working as I am…”

Mingi chuckles and strokes your hair one time to get your hair in its right place after having mushed it. His touch expands warmly on your scalp and it spreads like a soothing wave of comfort.

“They hate that,” you inhale, and then —with revelation— exhale, “I’m such a strong, successful woman.”

“There you go. My strong,” Mingi murmurs, and he’s letting his hands glide down your back, “successful,” further down your ass, “wife.” Squeeze.

“Oh,” you chuckle, fully aware that nothing is on your husband’s mind rather than to persuade you to get into bed with him. Cleaning his teeth, showering, putting on fresh clothes— Did he even shave his beard by himself? Wow.

After almost a year of marriage, some clues become very self-explanatory.

His amazing hands work their amazing ways on your ass, and as it goes for Mingi, he always prides himself that he can make you melt under his touch, especially when you come home from work late on days like these.

“You should just let your anger out on them next time,” Mingi smiles, cupping your ass with the big surface of his hand and you can feel how he’s trying to figure out whether he can raise you up like this— spoiler: he can— and continues to encourage you. “Or on me.”

Were you implying your co-workers should be scared of Mingi? Yes, but also no. For someone your size, despite seemingly being ever-so tiny in your husband’s embrace, to make it so big in such a short time is astounding; ground-breaking, even. You may or may not know, but Mingi finds you are one cold-blooded woman whose blood only boils when she’s being provoked, and if there is one thing your husband wants you to prove to your co-workers, it’s that you won’t think twice once you’ve got the title of being their supervisor.

Too harsh? Maybe. But that’s something you can consider when they’re begging you to accept their apologies, no?

“Don’t edge me on, or I might actually turn into the Hulk or something,” you laugh hoarsely and raise your head up to him. Mingi looks down immediately and grins, continuously groping his hands into your butt.

“You can’t scare me,” he lulls and kisses your forehead, “because you’ll always be my little baby, Y/N.”

“Ohh, shut it,” you sneer and can’t deny that Mingi is the only one who can make you feel this small, “I wouldn’t be too sure I can’t scare you.”

“Do try, please,” Mingi insists with a cheeky smirk and gung-ho, you’re raised from the floor, being carried to the bedroom. Was that a challenge you heard?

“Be rough all you want tonight, alright? I don’t think your stress is gonna get away our traditional way today.”

“Really? ‘Traditional’?”, you huff and raise an eyebrow, Mingi kissing your cheek, as he opens the door to your bedroom.

“It’s almost our anniversary, let’s try something new, baby. I'll do anything you want. Don't care about me. I'll just be... you know. I don't know.”

“What? Is my husband getting bored of being in charge?”, you gasp theatrically, easing your hands into his shoulders, “Does hubby want me to order him around?”

“Let’s get rid of the terminology,” Mingi mutters, a bit sheepish, not wanting to admit that he read the term ‘service top’ somewhere in the deepest corners of the internet earlier this evening and had to ask you when you came home. You coming home an hour later just made him travel further the needy path, imagining how good he could make love to you, when his "own pleasure isn't the focus" (that's a quote from the website.)

“I just want my wonderful wife,” Mingi sighs, as he lets himself fall on the mattress backwards, with you landing on his hard-on, knees propped next to his hips, “And relieve you from all your stress.”

You’re still in your office attire, got your tie on tight around your neck, everything that screams ‘not ready for bed’, but Mingi doesn’t seem to care for your sheets to become dirty. In fact, he apparently wants you to be the dirtiest you’ve ever been, huh?

His long, slender fingers hold you by your jaw, as your husband roughly presses his lips into yours, immediately opening up his mouth to get a second taste with his tongue. While he tastes like mint toothpaste, you taste like bittersweet coffee, diligence and dedication; you are dancing heavenly on Mingi’s tastebuds, and his tongue laps over yours eagerly to not let any drop of your essence go to waste. He’s making you feel wanted, no, he wants you, and as Mingi takes your blazer off, your own desire to have him grows bigger with each passing second.

Your legs feel a bit tight due to the fabrics of your suit, but it doesn’t prevent you from grinding yourself into him, pants interrupting your greedy kiss. “Let’s get this off,” Mingi murmurs into your lips, hooking his finger into your tie, loosening it up, pulling it until he can wriggle your head through.

“Let’s get all of this off,” you reciprocate and his hands are on your waist, as Mingi watches you flawlessly open up the buttons of your blouse, tongue running over his lower lip. “Your co-workers don’t know you,” he chuckles, admiring you sitting on top of him with a look in your eyes that he could feast on for days, “But they should know that you are, fuck, breath-taking.”

You move your hips over his crotch, enjoying hearing your husband gutter out his thoughts.

“You are eye-candy in that, baby,” Mingi heaves, “I’m getting kinda jealous of your co-workers here.”

Cheeky, you let the blouse droop over your shoulders, revealing your lacy bra. Saying that you’re eye-candy doesn’t put it into words, Mingi thinks, and gulps at the sight of you stroking over your own torso and your breast that is just being so perfectly pushed by your lingerie, and— though it barely needs any convincing for him to swathe his tongue around your pretty nipples and get even more prettier sounds out of you— your slight gesture gets your husband’s head fuming with the things he wants to do to you to make you crumble and eat it all up deliciously, not leave anything behind.

“I bet they don’t get to see this though,” he grins and with a quick, studied flick of his fingers, the tightness around your torso is released and your tits are out for Mingi stare into. “Only I get to see this, don’t I?"

You nod and sigh, when he traces the red indents from your underwear with his thumbs and wets his lips; but before you think he's being too gentle, Mingi doesn't let you speak out the words 'yes, only you do' and interrupts you with his mouth, his hands holding you by your waist.

"Mingi," you pant. He has pushed you over on your back to the mattress without warning, caging you in with his frame. "Sorry, baby," he grins, pulls off his tank-top, throws it on the floor, quickly— he's got things to do here!— and then zips open your pants, kissing you from your cheek down to your collarbones, covering your body with his fresh breath. "Works better this way."

Mingi hooks his fingers into your trousers and pulls it off until your panties are revealed to him, but before he's able to wriggle it down to your calves and finally have it off your body, he's having a moment to look at his wife laying in front of him; your glowing eyes are glancing up, waiting, no, teasing, urging him on to do what Mingi has been planning to do since the first time he asked you when you would arrive back home.

"Please don't mention 'work'," you hiss, pushing your tongue against the inner space of your mouth.

He knows. He has never been there at your work-place, and he never asks you more about it than he should, because Mingi does think that his distraction works way better than to rant for hours, and he sees it, feels it— your anger, your frustration, your stress— but does he... well, how should he say this... care for it?

No.

"Why not?", is what Mingi whispers into your skin to make you roll your eyes and border him in with your thighs, the pants that aren't off yet keeping him between your legs. Fuck, you're so hot when you're stressed.

Okay, wait, wait, wait— hear him out.

First, please forgive him. You really have to. Mingi would never say this out loud, not under any circumstance that doesn't include you directly asking for it, but shit, look at yourself right now. Enveloped by your open blouse, your perfect breasts hanging out of it like a window luring him to peek like the shameful man he is, your facial expression judging him for his fawning— you are a goddess in his eyes, Y/N. And gods get angry. And then, when they're angry, they're the most powerful they ever are.

So there you go; Mingi, even though he's a husband that has never, ever throughout your marriage or your relationship, made you angrier for more than 24 hours, kinda enjoys it when you come home stressed, gritting your teeth, panting, groaning— talking to him with umph. The stress makes you riled up, makes you breathe fire, shoot flames out of your eyes that seduce him to be even more ignited, just for you.

"Are you trying to challenge me?", you huff and Mingi makes himself comfortable, placing his elbows around the sides of your body, anchoring himself on your lower abdomen with his forearm.

"Baby," he grins, kissing the inner sides of your thighs, "I would never do such a thing."

Except he is. When you get— and your husband thinks he's a genius to think of this— 'worked up', you become demanding, slightly sassy, playful, and there is nothing Mingi loves more than his wife to tell him exactly what she wants, because he knows he can be a bit dense sometimes. He tries his best, always, to do things according to your liking, but usually, you just let him do his thing since sometimes you need nothing more than his presence.

"I would never tease you like that, my," he pesters, "baby." With his lips stuck at the last inch before he's able to get it near your clothed cunt, you scoff, pressing your thighs together to squeeze his face.

"You better fucking not tease me tonight," you warn him and Mingi bites his lip, feeling his already-very-hard cock twitch inside his joggers at the cause of your tone.

"I love you too much," your husband answers and moves his head around, his pointy nose grazing against your covered clit. Like an automatic reaction, you gulp and throw your face to the side, your hand intertwining with Mingi's long fingers that are resting at the seam of your panties.

"Oh, please," you taunt, “dare to give me your worst performance,” and you think you're safe, since his hands are occupied with yours, but when you are in bed with him, and proceed to tease Mingi like this, then you are never safe with your husband.

(Except the part that you are safe, and safe with the thought Mingi is indeed going to relieve you.) Pressing his tongue against the fabric, Mingi curves it into the band, pushing it with ease, without any type of struggle to— and you should've seen this coming— plunge his tongue into your folds. "Fuck, Mingi," you breathe and he's chuckling against your wet cunt, as he laps his wet muscle over your slickness to gather what has been collecting in your underwear, slow and sensually, though his heavy breathing tells you that he's going to feast on it in no time.

He ‘loves you’, you know that, but ‘too much'? — Can there ever be too much?

"Ohh, fuck, that's good, right fucking there," you groan, gripping into Mingi's hand. With your feedback, Mingi continues to purl over your clit, sucking the fluid so it can spread on his tongue and melt in his mouth.

No. There could never be too much.

You taste so delicious, and it goes without saying that Mingi finds it fascinating that you look even better from this angle; he can see every lash of yours flutter with the slow flicking of his tongue, adding speed as he goes. “Yes,” you whimper, “‘feels so good.”

His heart and mouth are cooperating wonderfully, as his lips are spelling words of awe into your labia; He’s pronouncing how good it feels so good to be your husband, how good it feels to do good— and oh, it is so good to be yours, Y/N. You can’t even believe. The sounds you let out tingle all of his senses and he’s definitely going to have to hurry with his studio, if he wants to eternalise them.

Mingi holds the eye-contact to not miss any of your expressions, laving at your cunt with bizarre flexibility that makes you twist here and there, but his forearm is pressing you down to keep you on your back. "Squirmy," he grins, babying you while you are unable to open move your legs, since your own set of trousers is keeping them closed together, "am I doing you that well?”

Panting because of how constrained you are despite wanting to move around so much, you throw your head down on the soft mattress. "Uh-huh," you exhale, feeling his tongue circle around your clit and tease itself into your entrance, "so well."

Mingi's head is spinning. He wants to make you cum so fast, but he also wants you to beg for your orgasm until your voice is hoarse from the moaning, just so he can see your ribcage move up and down the bed one more time, no, please so many times, and maybe he could get his fingers in so he can— fuck, didn't he plan this out?

He makes it look easy, but in your husband’s mind, he's puzzling and figuring out the ways to pleasure you the best way he can. Mingi heaves and laughs, noticing how he's been cutting himself short of breath, too excited to be pleasuring you. "You’re so beautiful, baby," he says, voice having become raspy and an octave lower than usual; it appears to you that he's drunk on your taste, "you're making me insane with that view."

You inhale through your mouth with your lip-corners pointing upwards, a bit shy with your husband's praise, but you have no other way around than to listen to Mingi's dreamy words. "Unnh-huh," you react, but once your husband is laving at your cunt again, talking amidst of it, you are becoming a mindlessly noisy mess.

"My pretty baby," Mingi murmurs, and as he does so, his mouth is flocking in your slick, tickling your clit repeatedly, "my prettiest, loveliest baby, so whiny for me, fuck."

"More, Mingi," you grunt, feeling like the blouse is keeping you tight, so you push yourself up and get it off your arms— Mingi uses his chance to pull your panties over your knees— and after that, the male digs deeper into your crevice, thighs pressing him in which makes him gasp for dear air, "please."

Your pleads are meaningful to him, make his heart jump, make his head click like he's a dog being asked to obey, and okay, Mingi doesn't think he wants to be a pet, let alone an animal, but— you know what? Your pleads not only show what a considerate wife you are, it also makes Mingi know how much you want him, and that’s the best feeling in the entire world, and he would do everything to chase your pleasure and praise.

“Oh, I got all night, baby,” your husband chuckles, he’s grinding himself against the bed, huffing and panting, tongue delving deep into you on your command.

He drags the intertwined hands of yours down the tiny bit it needs for his thumb to meet your clit, and as Mingi rubs extensively over it, your knuckles go white from how strongly you grip into his fingers.

Oh god, this is exactly what you wanted. His tongue, his lips, his hands, oh, his hands— his fingers; those ridiculously long fingers that cover your whole pelvic bone when extended— slender and rapid, frantically incautious over your cunt, so eager to push you over the edge, pull you back up and throw you over again and again; you love how they look against your body, on your head, on your neck, on your cunt, everywhere they travel during your desirous journeys.

"Aren't I so scarily good?", Mingi huffs, nervy and immodest, talking to get himself to breathe, clearly confident that you are feeling the best you've felt the whole day given the way your muscle was contracting around his tongue, when it was still in you; unfortunately you're unable to answer him with words, just letting out another gutsy "unnnh" as feedback.

"I know, oh, I know," he grins, his thumb rubbing over your clit like he's racing with your stuttered breath, but ultimately, he’s making you feel quite empty with the lack of his mouth at your cunt, and he’s making you feel that way on purpose, "I'm the best, I can do you the best—"

"Mingi! Your Tongue! Please."

After his pant, his mischievous little chuckle, you understand it, understand it all clearly: your naughty Mingi loves to be ordered around by his wife. Loves being ordered around knowing that, once his tongue is inside you, you'll do absolutely nothing to hold him back, and it does make you want to fuck him even more, doesn’t it? You love your husband, you feel so young with him, so undisturbedly yourself— and how loved you feel, too.

Humming a fond "I got you, baby", Mingi shuffles himself together one last time, your thighs sitting perfectly on his shoulders, and there he goes, driving his tongue into you, even more ecstatic than before; now, that you even begged him to, it's like your husband has taken enough of a back to duplicate the amount of vigor, exponentially getting faster and more impassioned. "Oh, fuck," you breathe out and with Mingi's tongue rubbing your inner walls wild and avidly, his thumb sprinting across your sensitive clit, you are heading straight to your first orgasm.

"Just like that," you whine, knowing very well that it gets your husband riled up well across his usual efforts, and you continue with it just to chase your high, "just like that, baby, just like—"

Hey now, did you just call him 'baby'? And how sneakily you did it, too! You know how crazy it gets him, you tease. Your husband’s tongue raves against your sweet spots and your slick gets combined with his saliva, his thumb using the moisture as lube to not miss any of the chances to make you squirm and spasm on his touches, but Mingi’s cock, his poor cock, twitches in the short moment his sweet, desirous pet-name is exhaled out of your pretty mouth he’s definitely going to need to kiss a thousand times until he can only taste the word “baby” on his lips.

His own pelvis is grinded deep into the mattress, and pearls of sweat form on both your foreheads, your eyes rolling to where you can’t see Mingi concentrating on your face, when it cums with a movement of your pelvis bucking up.

“… That!”, you moan, and Mingi pants, shovelling your come into his mouth, slurping it up so long until you physically have to wring with him to get his tongue off your pussy, but the trousers at your calves make it impossible. It’s Mingi’s choice here. And he’s not letting go.

“Ba—,” you squirm, rocking your body from side to side, “—by, please! Fuck!”

“Call me ‘baby’ one more time, just for me,” he lisps, laving his tongue against your throbbing, pulsating clit, all the while you try yank your ass down, overwhelmed by your prolonged pleasure.

“Baby! Baby, baby, baby—“, you whimper, and Mingi kisses your inner thigh, when he finally stops, satisfied by your calling. With one last peck on your clit, he lets go off your hands and slips out your chokehold, pulling off your pants by hooking his fingers in and sliding them off your feet. “Aww, look at you,” he beams, grinning, going through his hair and stroking his swollen lip, “all blushed away, reminds me of the older days, baby.”

“You are the worst,” you sob, and lay lax on the bed, legs once in for all extending and relaxing. Strangely enough, your head feels light, and your body that was straining and trying to get Mingi off of it, is now feeling warm and calming down from the high.

“Aw, you think so?” Mingi smiles, kissing up your leg, your hip-bone, pressing his lips on your abdomen, your tummy, your ribs, marking all of your body with his love-soaked mouth. "I adore you so much."

Having wrung with your husband, you got rid of some of the fighting needs, but— as you’re being smothered by him and his sweet antics— you sigh into the gentle, feathery contact with your skin, and play molten with his soft hair.

You remind yourself of his words, ‘don’t care about me’, but your husband would be a fool to assume that his wife doesn’t want to give him anything back. “Mingi,” you murmur— noticing that you’ve been closing your eyes due to the relaxation you are experiencing, and he immediately answers an attentive “yes, baby?” back, as he repeatedly kisses your jaw.

“Do you really want me to order you around?”, you hum.

“Haha, no, baby,” he chuckles, “it's just…”

Mingi harrumphes in his thoughts, wrapping his arms around your waist, laying his head on top of your tummy and looking up to you— whispering, "I want to do what's best for you. Especially on days like these."

Your heart throbs at the sight of your husband's hair being dishevelled, his already plump lips seemingly looking more peachy, rosy, kissable after he's eaten you out with more than greed and thirst; something that’s more valuable to a healthy marriage than the phrase ‘good sex, no ex’— Love. And the sweetest love there could ever be.

"You would do that for me, baby?", you ask him, your voice coming out sighed.

"Yes, of course," he insists, kissing you down your sternum, your ribcage moving up and down in a slow rhythm. “Baby, you work so much for us… I feel like this is something I can do for you in return, you know?”

“But what if I don’t make you cum?”

"Huh?"

Mingi stops kissing you and glances upwards. You grin. You wanted to catch him off-guard a little bit. (Though you don't know whether that's surprise in the white of his eyes or something like... intrigue.)

“… Uh,” he gutters, thinking about his words very carefully, but ultimately failing to find something good to say.

You smirk and go through his hair, gently grabbing a handful of it. “I think you’d find it hot."

"Really?", he asks, nervously huffing.

"Mingi, didn’t I edge you all during our early twenties?”

“Baby, don’t—“

“What? Well, I thought it was hot. I remember it being really hot.”

“Those were trying times.”

“We did try a lot of things during college.”

Reminiscing and visiting your rather youthful, spry days, Mingi pushes his head deeper into your hand and smiles, having calmed down from the rather exciting idea that you would suggest something so risqué to him. How long has it been? More than ten years, wow.

"Look at us now, baby," Mingi murmurs, sub-consciously wandering up the silhouette of your body with the backside of his hands, making you rather ticklish, but in a way that goosebumps find themselves on your skin, your breath feeling lighter with each stroke of his finger-tips, "Look at you." He inhales, and then exhales, your thumb resting at his ear, "You are trying to kill me, baby..."

"Ohh, Mingi, I'm not!", you giggle, and you may not know what your husband is talking about, but through his lenses— though you would be right to assume that these lenses are painted a deep, deep red— he's seeing his wife be tempered, moderate, relaxed. If he finds you so hot when you're fuming, Mingi finds you enthralling, when your eyes are barely open, the slightest of smile decorating your lips, and an even more hidden pink daubed on your cheeks... You're his wife, Mingi repeats to himself, and his heart grows double its size because of it.

"I love you," he murmurs, and for the moment, he doesn't even know he said that out loud, “I love you so much”, and means it more the second time.

And there you lay, on the mattress, your husband beginning to kiss you again, his hands cupping your head, your fingers interlaced in his hair. "I love you too," you whisper, and as Mingi grabs you by your back, inviting you to get your body up, you're right in the zone again.

Soft, smitten contact— it’s your lips this time to cover Mingi’s neck with kisses, down to his shoulders, his collarbones, your knee working against his crotch, arms swung behind his head.

“I want to take care of you, baby,” Mingi whispers, his thumb caressing your jawbone, as you peck away the sweat on his skin, he will need another shower. “I want to make love to you.”

You smile in awe of your husband lulling the loveliest of words into your ear, soft rustling from your sheets accompanying his voice. The room you decorated together, the home you fill, and even sooner, you'll start a family— with Mingi as a father to be proud of. Who has done so much to keep you happy.

"But sometimes I think—”

“No, baby,” you interrupt him, his voice was dropping and you know you are preventing Mingi from talking bad about himself. He feels guilty, though you've told him uncountable times that you don't feel like you're the only one under this roof.

"But—"

“Baby, no.”

"Okay... I guess I just love you, then." Mingi chuckles, when your fingernails trail down his breast, drawing a line along his muscle definition, “what did you think I was gonna say?”

“Something that’s gonna take me off my mood,” you hum, hooking yourself at his joggers. Mingi sighs, loudly, not yet relieved, but still at peace somehow.

“Make love to me, Mingi.”

A slight gasp leaves his mouth. Oh…

“Y/N… You can’t say things like that.”

With a smirk, your hand disappears in his joggers, and then in his boxers; his thick, throbbing, struggling cock slicking in your grip, as you wrap your fingers around it.

“I can, baby, and I will,” you sneer, “I thought you wanted the best for me?”

He grits his teeth, but Mingi smiles, finding himself at your service. “Am I the best?”, he asks you, leaning forwards to rest his head against your shoulder, pushing you down again.

“You’re the absolute best, Mingi.”

You slowly glide your hand up and down his length nibbling at his ear, exhaling, seducing him. “You’re the best husband,” you purr, “with the most handsome face,” kissing his temple, “and”, with your other finger hooked at the waist band of his joggers, you reveal “the best cock.”

Mingi is touched. A bit embarrassed, yes, it’s been a while since he’s heard you talk like this, but to hear from the best wife that he is deemed the best husband is the highest compliment he could have gotten. What, his face still charms you? His cock is still alluring to you? Don’t judge him, but even after ten years he will be moved by your words.

Moved.

“Come on, Mingi,” you coo, feeling your cunt pulsate between your legs, his cock twitch between your fingers; your husband gulps and, with your command, roams against your body, "let's get you to work."

Maybe he's really revisiting things from the past, after all the talk about your college endeavours, because you definitely recognise his canine teeth ever-so slightly sunken into your shoulder, as Mingi grabs you by your thighs and spreads your legs gently. Your body remembers, and his cock surely does as well, glistening in pre-cum as it is positioned at your cunt. "God, baby," Mingi grunts, and you lick over your lips in anticipation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he pouts, and in an almost reverent tone, Mingi brushes away a sweaty strand of hair from your face, “you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

“Not even your mom?”, you giggle, and while you think of your mother in law with utmost respect, your husband smiles, unfazed; “She’ll agree.”

And with that, Mingi is inside you, all of his length gliding into you with utmost caution; he’s driving in his pelvis unhurriedly, slow and deliberate, just so you can feel every inch of you inside expand for his girth, stretch for his entrance. "Fuck," you gutter and grab Mingi by his hair, pulling him close to you just as he begins to move, your moan coming out muffled against his lip.

"Never growing tired of it, are you?", Mingi grins into the kiss, and he's right, he's so, totally right, but your face is strained together in ecstasy, lascivious— aphrodisical to your husband. He's throbbing and he can feel how warm his own cock is, as Mingi pulls himself out of your tightness in his entirety and then, "fuck," pushes himself right back in inside you to experience it all again.

"I could never grow tired of my hubby," you chuckle and fuck, feel him, physically feel how he's getting excited about your words, something so enrapturingly hot boiling inside him; but while your personal heat ends up being your devilish little voice encouraging you to tease him, Mingi's does nothing more than to whisper him the most delicate ways of loving.

If he sucks on the spot right here at your pretty, graceful collarbone, will you sigh out an even more graceful breath? (Yes!) If he slides his tongue across your neck, just until your sensitive jaw, will you pull his hair with some type of feistiness? (Oh, god yes!) If Mingi, looking at you with sunken eyes, catches you off-guard and pistons his pelvis in at this exact moment, will you— "Fuck, baby!"

Oh, he didn't even need a voice for that one. Your husband slithers his arms under your armpits, one hand holding you by your back, the other resting on top of your head, so you don't hit the bedframe and hurt yourself, as it falls to the back with his thrust.

"Want me to say sorry?", he hums, again slowly driving himself out, knowing very well that once Mingi changes the direction, he will hit your sweet-spot again, and you shake your head rather weakly, drunken on the feeling of him filling you out.

"Good," Mingi confirms your answer, peppering kisses all around your forehead, as he quickens up his pace, breathing throughout it all. "Y/N," he sighs, you sighing with him for all the same reasons, "you feel so good."

You get used to the rhythm and let loose of the sheets, lightly scratching his skin at his waist. "You feel so good, baby," Mingi repeats himself and his eyebrows are pushed together, his grunts vibrating down your cunt. "Do you feel good, baby?"

Nodding, whispering a wispy string of a lot of 'yes'es, Mingi flashes his eye-smile and digs his face deep into the nook of your neck. He doesn't say it, because he's too busy panting, moaning, breathing out to his own thrusts, but your husband is overjoyed. You feel so tiny under his body— and maybe it's because you are, and yet the place you have reserved in his even bigger heart— which even in this moment, is beating for you and nobody else— is inexplainably huge. He wants to be yours as much as he wants you to be him, be with him, have all his life painted in your pretty colours until his canvas drivels over.

His cock is slipping in and out of you at fast speed now, your whiny moans encouraging Mingi to hold this angle since you're not stopping with it; "Are you close?", he asks and gets one arm of his out to rest his hand on the bedframe, towering over you, hair falling in front of his eyes.

"Yes, I'm close," you answer and search for another kiss, raising your hand to his cheek, Mingi immediately plunging his face into yours. He's close too, has been for a while now, but he had to get your confirmation that he was finally able to release himself into you— and then, when you nibble at his lip while a heavenly note of a moan leaves your opened mouth, Mingi's pelvis moves by itself.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," he cusses, having to install one hand at your hips so he doesn't rock you around too much, voice becoming high and needy, greed messing with the practiced way he thrusts into you, becoming sloppy and all the while passionate, chasing the speed it takes to make you feel the best and even better. His other hand slides onto your clit, and it does so by muscle memory, knowing exactly where to rub so you clench around him, scream out his name.

"I love you so much, baby, I want you so bad, and I'm— fuck," he heaves, his voice catching up with his movement, "I'm going to love you until we grow old, baby, I want to be with you until the end of our days— I," and Mingi is rambling his free mind here, his whole body, mind and soul at your service, "I want you to have me forever, Y/N."

"Mingi," you whine, and his cock doesn't stop hitting your soft-spot, your clit tingling from his thumb, making you dopey, skipping you through time, to a future where you lay with Mingi in bed at the same late hour, both heads fuming from work, trying to your steam off together now, worried that your kids will hear your words, grunting silently into each other's ears, the words being, "I'm gonna cum!"

Oh, what good days await you two, and how straight you're heading for it, too— with Mingi's breathing being cut short, coming out stuttered from how fast he's ramming himself into you, not too rough, but fluidly and ceaselessly until you are gasping for air, feeling the string be stretched further and further, pulled for release, spiralled by your husband's vigor and his panting; "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum so fucking bad, fuck!"

Mingi soaks sweatily in your words, his hair chaotic, his abs glistening from the heat of it all— you yank your hand out his mouth, your lower body curling up— "Fuck, baby!"

And with your tightened cunt Mingi lets out a deep, whole-hearted grumble, falling flat on your body, as he spasms; his hot, thick semen shot seeps through along the tip of his cock out your cunt, needing to be fucked right back into you so it doesn’t get lost on your sheets— you seeing absolute bliss, as he pistons into you one last time, eyes focused on your husband.

“Baby,” Mingi pants, and with your gazes meeting, his lips rush over to your cheek, pecking you one, two, three times— and then, on your lips one, two— no, holding one long kiss with you, his plump, rosy softness making your body melt into the mattress, as it falls deeper in slumber. “I love you,” he whispers into your kiss, tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “my baby.”

He pulls out, infamously slow, making you heave on his length even after you both finished. “Mingi,” you exhale, feeling your eyelids close by themselves, your husband slightly chuckling.

“Sorry, baby,” he says, caressing your waist and cheek, “you need anything?”

“Oh, Mingi,” you laugh; Mingi can't help himself, can he? Will always ask for your wishes, wishing to grant them, like he's some wizard, a magician, a devoted believer of your enjoyment and happiness— "You did all you could have done, baby."

"Really?"

"Come on, Mingi, you big baby, c'mere."

He huffs, a bit sulky maybe, your silly husband, getting the blanket from the bed to throw it over his shoulder and wham, over you— cuddling you in, for now ignoring that the both of you need a hot, steamy shower, just breathing in and out your presence, your sweet, dulcet presence, which caramelizes in his warmth, against his body, melting.

"Thank you for being there for me, baby," you smile, voice dampened by the blanket, but Mingi understands you just well enough.

You don't need to thank him. Mingi knows you know that. He's obsessed with you, and though you could try and say you're just as obsessed, your husband will try everything to your favour to prove otherwise.

As Mingi throws his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to his breast, making you listen to his heartbeat, beating just for you, you hear him whisper all kinds of affirmations. 'I'll never leave your side, I'll never make you feel lonely, I'll be yours forever.”

A career? A family? A happy life?

It's all waiting for you, patiently, each day and night you leave and come back home— in office clothes and a chaotic mind— watching, admiring, hoping to get the weight of responsibility off your shoulders, get you a taste of freedom, a taste of the fruits of your labour.

"Are you asleep?", he asks and you groan silently, pressing your face deeper down his armpit. "Baby..."

Mingi chuckles. You need this sleep, totally, but you also need to be cleaned up, which gives him the challenge to grab you by your leg the most gentle way he can, lift you up— and, when you lie in his embrace, head snuggled into his breast— he’s careful to not wake you up with the sounds of water splashing down his hand, as he soaps you in.

It’s difficult, this is difficult, it will all be so difficult— but Mingi, being your husband, your soul-mate, your everything, he’s putting his all on it to make it work.

(Work you up, make you work for it; until your voice is hoarse, until your body shakes, until your head is light and you can do it, all over again, the next day, evening and night.

“Happy wife, happy life!”

(Maybe Mingi embraces his new role as the father of your children too much.))