#I'm. not getting out of bed except to eat and use the bathroom for the rest of the night

[desperatepleasures]

okay basic tasks done and I survived but at what cost

[creamflix]

IF I WAS A BAD BITCH, I'D WANNA F★CK ME TOO! ( PART 2 )  ၄၃ gojo satoru x female reader x (female?!) gojo satoru 

18+ content, minors and blank blogs do not interact. established relationship. threesome featuring m & f gojo. dom! gojo(s), sub reader. bisexual reader. lots of crack. slight hurt & angst with comfort, existential crisis. somewhat rapid scene change. making out. implied quickie. mentions and use of sex toys (suction vibrator). overstimulation. fingering (f. recieving). slight voyuerism & cucking. cum play/eating. (guided) hand job. face sitting (go lesbians!!). p in v (missionary). somewhat marathon sex.

thank you all so much for the love on the previous fic :") i'm so glad you all see my vision, which is why i find much happiness in letting you know we're making this a series - nothing too serious or story driven, just a bunch of porn with plot oneshots for your reading plesure. :D i wrote female gojo with @owwllly's version in mind, so please show them your love xx

dedicated as always to my pookie daph aka @curtins , my fav bi icon @sugoroo & my lovely taglist. now if you'll excuse me, i'm going to take a veeryyy long nap. ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა

— general masterlist ☆ read on ao3 ☆ series masterlist

morning, if you could even call it that, felt like stepping into the twilight zone. 

the sunlight creeping through the windows was annoyingly cheerful considering the depraved antics of the night before, and you were dead sure your neighbors were contemplating a noise complaint.

yet, here you were, trying to make sense of the utter chaos that came with two versions of your boyfriend.

it started with a groping. a teasing squeeze to your ass that you didn’t even flinch at — classic satoru. 

except, when you turned to glare at him, ready to smack that stupid smirk off his face, you were met with her instead, casually twirling her white hair around her fingers.

“oh, was that not me? so sorry,” fem-toru (you had to call her something) said with the most shit-eating grin known to mankind.

“what the hell, woman?!” gojo bellowed from across the room, instantly at your side and scooping you up like you were a damsel in distress. “she doesn’t get to touch what’s mine!”

“what are you gonna do, sue me?” she teased, leaning against the counter with a smug tilt to her head.

gojo growled, the real one — or, male one? whatever — already dragging you off toward the bathroom. “don’t wait up,” he called over his shoulder.

“ew, like i���d wanna hear that,” she called back, although her smirk said otherwise.

and that was just the beginning.

when you finally emerged from round… whatever that was, the war for coffee mugs was already in full swing.

“that’s my mug!” you groaned, snatching at the familiar blue ceramic, only for it to be pulled just out of reach by fem-toru.

“finders keepers, babe,” she quipped, taking a long sip with a completely unapologetic look.

“you’re not even supposed to be here!” you hissed, trying to snatch it back.

“it’s my house too,” male gojo chimed in unhelpfully, hogging the last clean mug himself.

“not your house —” you paused, narrowing your eyes at the two of them.

“i’m going to need so much therapy after this.”

“probably,” they both said in perfect unison, which was both creepy and infuriating.

and then there was the final straw.

“you don’t need to borrow my bras,” you snapped at fem-toru, watching in horror as she rooted through your drawer, holding up one of your lacy favorites.

“but they’re so cuuuteee!” she whined, shamelessly sliding the straps over her shoulders to model it. “plus, i don’t have anything in my size. talk to him about that,” she added, jerking her thumb toward her male counterpart.

“don’t drag me into this!” gojo groaned, holding his head as though he were already plagued by a migraine.

“both of you, out!” you barked, finally snapping under the weight of their collective nonsense.

but as you flopped back onto the bed after shoving both of them out of the room, you couldn’t help but smile. the chaos, the absurdity — it felt oddly right, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

...even if you had to figure out how to hide your lingerie from a certain someone.

⋆˙⟡ —

you could practically feel the ground begging to swallow you whole as your elderly neighbor — a sweet lady who baked cookies and fed stray cats — stood at your doorstep with an expression that bordered on scandalized and horrified.

"dear, i just wanted to make sure everything was... alright last night," she began, her voice trembling slightly, but it was hard to tell if it was from age or pure shock. "i thought maybe something had fallen. or —" she paused, wringing her hands, "someone had fallen... repeatedly."

before you could stammer out a half-baked apology, both gojos emerged from behind you like twin specters of your shame, looking every bit as debauched as you felt.

gojo, with his signature grin, leaned lazily against the doorframe, his messy hair and unbuttoned shirt doing absolutely nothing to help the situation. "oh, don’t worry, ma’am. just some, uh, vigorous... exercise," he chirped, flashing a dazzling smile that could melt glaciers but definitely not the horror etched into her face.

fem gojo popped her head out next, her wolf-cut disheveled and a hickey darkening her collarbone. "he means cardio," she added helpfully, as if that made it any better.

"cardio?" your neighbor echoed, clutching her chest as her eyes darted between the three of you.

"yeah! it's important to stay fit, ya know," fem gojo continued, placing a hand on your shoulder as if you needed moral support through this ordeal.

"and loud," male gojo added with a smirk.

you wanted to die.

"i-i see," your neighbor stammered, her gaze now firmly fixed on the floor as she shuffled back a step. "well, um, maybe next time you could... exercise a little quieter?"

"we’ll keep it down, promise!" fem gojo called after her as the door gently shut in your neighbor's retreating wake.

as soon as it clicked shut, you whirled around, smacking both gojos on their respective arms. 

"are you kidding me? cardio?!"

"what?" male gojo grinned, rubbing his arm. "it’s technically not a lie."

"and honestly," fem-toru added with a wink, "for our age, we're doing amazing."

"you’re not even old," you hissed, burying your face in your hands.

"exactly," male gojo quipped, draping an arm around you. "so no excuses for round two."

fem-toru smirked, leaning in with a sultry whisper. "or round twelve. you’re practically a pro now."

you groaned. this was your life now.

⋆˙⟡ —

you were about two seconds away from flinging the carton of eggs in your hand when you felt her — fem gojo, femtoru, whatever her name was — sidling up behind you like a heat-seeking missile.

“what the — ?!” you whipped around, heart hammering in your chest, only for her to give you that infuriating, all-too-familiar smirk.

"miss me?" she purred, leaning in close enough that her outrageously large rack brushed against your shoulder.

"how the hell did you even get here?!" you hissed, glancing around the aisle nervously as a mom with two toddlers gave you a raised eyebrow before continuing down the cereal section.

she pouted dramatically, looping an arm around your waist as if you weren’t about to die of embarrassment. "what, you thought a lil’ lock and key could keep me away? puh-lease, babe. i invented escapism."

"you’re kidding me," you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"oh, and don’t worry about satoru," she added, resting her chin on your shoulder as if you weren’t vibrating with anxiety. "i tied him up real good before leaving. pretty sure he's still trying to figure out how to untangle his legs."

"you did what?!" your voice cracked, drawing the attention of an elderly man perusing the soup cans nearby.

"relax," she whispered, nuzzling her nose into your neck. "he’ll be here any second. y’know how he is — doesn’t like to be left out."

as if on cue, a loud crash came from the store's automatic doors, and there he was — your boyfriend, his hair still a mess, shirt misbuttoned, and his expression a cocktail of irritation and smug determination.

"sweetheart!" he called, jogging down the aisles with zero regard for the stares he was attracting. "fem-me tied me up with my own blindfold. again. can you believe that?"

"i absolutely can," you snapped, trying to suppress the migraine threatening to bloom.

"soooo clingy, aren’t we?" femtoru teased, pressing even closer to your back. "you couldn’t even let me have ten minutes alone with her, could you?"

"ten minutes alone, my ass!" he barked, glaring at his female counterpart. "you kidnapped her! again!"

“‘s not kidnappin’ when she enjoys my company,” she quipped, smirking as she leaned over to inspect the snack shelf, her cleavage doing things you’d rather not admit out loud.

"you are literally me," your boyfriend shot back, clearly nearing the end of his patience.

“and that’s why she likes me better,” fem gojo said sweetly, tossing a bag of chips into your cart with an infuriating wink.

“both of you need to shut up,” you hissed, grabbing the cart and storming toward the checkout. “and stop dragging me into your circus act every time i try to do something normal — like buying goddamn groceries!”

but, of course, they followed, bickering like siblings the entire time. and you? you contemplated whether life in a hermitage was really that bad.

⋆˙⟡ —

the moment you placed your items on the conveyor belt, you prayed for a quick, smooth transaction. but, of course, with them around, that was wishful thinking.

“hey, y/n,” jess greeted with her usual cheery smile, scanning your items. she was sweet — always polite, never overly invasive, but you could see the curiosity bubbling just beneath the surface as her gaze flicked between you and the two absolute menaces standing behind you.

“hey, jess,” you muttered, trying to focus on the beep of the scanner rather than the chaos looming behind you.

your boyfriend was already muttering to himself, his black glasses perched low on his nose as he glared daggers at his female counterpart. 

“goddamn wolfcut copycat... walking around like she owns the place... like i don’t have patents on being hot and annoying —”

“what was that, lover boy?” fem gojo teased, scratching at the nape of her neck, her perfectly styled wolfcut catching the overhead lights just right. her bright blue eyes were unhidden, and they sparkled with amusement as she leaned against the counter like she belonged there.

“lover boy?” satoru spat, his tone dripping with disdain. “you’ve got some nerve calling me that when you’re standing there looking like a discount version of me with tits.”

“discount?!” femtoru gasped, clutching her chest in mock outrage. “excuse me, but these,” she motioned to her ample figure, “are luxury items, thank you very much. unlike your scrawny pecs.”

you buried your face in your hands as jess froze mid-scan, clearly fighting the urge to either laugh or run for her life.

“so, uh…” jess began cautiously, trying to salvage the small talk. “doing anything fun later today?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but fem gojo beat you to it.

“oh, just a casual threesome,” she said with a wicked grin, winking at the poor cashier.

you choked. satoru groaned. jess went so red you thought she might pass out.

“shut up,” satoru hissed, grabbing fem gojo by the collar and dragging her back. “don’t you dare embarrass her in public.”

“oh, ‘m sorry,” femtoru drawled, clearly not sorry at all. “did i strike a nerve, lover boy?”

“that’s it. when we get home, i’m locking you in the closet.”

“aww, das kinda freaky —”

“not like that!”

jess handed you your receipt with trembling hands, her polite smile firmly in place despite her obvious confusion. “have a nice day,” she said, her voice a little too high-pitched.

“yeah, thanks,” you muttered, grabbing your bags and speed-walking out of the store, your two walking headaches trailing behind you, still arguing like children.

as the automatic doors closed behind you, satoru grumbled, “this is why i don’t let you out in public.”

“oh, please,” fem gojo shot back, tossing her hair. “if anything, i made it better.”

you didn’t dignify that with a response. you just kept walking, silently wondering if there was a refund policy for boyfriends — and their alternate versions.

the walk back home was a blur of bickering, your thighs still trembling from the "little assistance" fem gojo had oh-so-graciously offered during your "quick trip" back home. satoru — male satoru, your actual boyfriend, not the ridiculous female menace still trailing after you — was muttering something about how he should’ve strangled her then and there between the bread aisle and frozen foods.

you, meanwhile, were trying to stay upright and hold onto the groceries without collapsing from sheer embarrassment and, well... exhaustion.

⋆˙⟡ —

it wasn’t uncommon for fem gojo to be her usual chaotic self — hell, the woman was a walking hurricane of snark, gropes, and unnecessary comments. she introduced herself as “your lady” to strangers whenever your boyfriend wasn’t around, thoroughly enjoying the chaos that title caused. it was all part of the act, the cocky smirk, the teasing eyes — but you were no fool. 

you’d caught the cracks in her facade more than once.

like the way her gaze lingered when you and gojo were tangled together, not in lust but something softer, more intimate. she’d watch the two of you from the corner of the room, her smile dimming for just a second before snapping back into place.

or how she’d stand in front of the mirror when she thought no one was looking. her bright blue eyes would trace her reflection, not with admiration but with a quiet, unspoken question. who am i now?

it tugged at something deep in your chest. for all her antics, you couldn’t ignore the truth — this strange predicament had to be hitting her harder than either of you could imagine.

so, when she sauntered into your room one evening, catching you brushing your hair, you weren’t entirely surprised when she leaned against the doorframe, watching you silently.

“need something?” you asked, keeping your tone light.

“just admirin’ the view,” she said with a sly grin, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

you rolled your eyes but didn’t press her, focusing back on your reflection. she stepped closer, and before you knew it, her hands were on your shoulders, her breath warm against your ear.

“y’know,” she murmured, her voice softer than usual, “i think you’re wastin’ all that sweetness on him.”

“listen, if you’re about to ask for a kiss —”

she didn’t even let you finish before pressing her lips against yours, hands cradling your face as if her life depended on it. it was messy, desperate, and entirely uncalled for.

you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, staring at her wide-eyed. “okay, what was that?”

her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. she looked at you, then down at her hands as if she were trying to piece something together. finally, she sighed, leaning her forehead against yours.

“you and him,” she started, her voice barely above a whisper, “you make it look so easy. being... someone.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability. “‘toru...”

“don’t — don’t make this a thing,” she interrupted, laughing weakly. “’m not good at this. i just — wanna say thanks. for, y’know, not treatin’ me like some freak.”

her words hung heavy in the air, but before you could respond, she kissed you again. this time slower, deeper, her hands tangling in your hair as if trying to pour everything she couldn’t say into the kiss.

it was... a lot. but as her lips moved against yours, you decided to let her have this moment. 

maybe it was what she needed — a way to feel grounded, even if just for a little while.

before you could even process what was happening, she had swept you off your feet — literally. in one fluid motion, her strong arms cradled you, and the next thing you knew, she was laying you down gently on the bed.

but this wasn’t like the usual antics you’d grown accustomed to. there was no teasing smirk, no biting sarcasm. her eyes, usually so sharp with mischief, were soft, almost glassy, her lips trembling like she was struggling to find the right words.

“please,” she whispered, voice breaking as she knelt beside you, hands hovering as if afraid to touch you too much. “lemme... lemme take care of you. just this once.”

it was so unlike her — so raw, so vulnerable — that it physically hurt to see her like this. this wasn’t the same brazen, overconfident fem gojo who pushed your buttons. 

this was satoru, stripped bare of all the bravado.

your heart clenched as you reached for her, pulling her into a kiss, softer this time. you tangled your fingers in her snowy white hair, feeling her shudder against you.

“satoru,” you murmured, her name rolling off your tongue as naturally as breathing.

hearing her name — her name — from you seemed to break her entirely. she melted into you, her body caging yours as she kissed you like you were the only thing keeping her tethered to reality.

and maybe, for that moment, you were.

normally, she’d be cocky about this — the teasing smirks, the knowing winks, the flirty little comments about how lucky you were to have her. but now, as she pulls back from your lips, her face hidden in the crook of your neck, it hits you like a truck: she’s not about to kiss you again, or nip at your skin.

she’s crying.

satoru gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive — gender be damned — is crying.

you freeze for a moment, unsure of what to do, until you feel her body tremble against yours. 

then the sound comes — soft, stuttering sobs that claw at your heart.

“satoru,” you whisper, threading your fingers gently through her wolfcut, your nails grazing her scalp in soothing motions. “hey, it’s okay. ’s okay.”

her arms tighten around you, her weight completely draped over you as though she’s trying to bury herself in you, seeking solace in the only safe haven she knows.

“’m sorry,” she chokes out, voice muffled and shaking. “i’m... ion even know what’s happenin’ to me.”

“you don’t have to apologize,” you murmur, pressing your lips softly to her temple. “you don’t always have to be strong, you know. not with me.”

her sobs grow heavier, and you hold her closer, shushing her gently.

“you’re okay, satoru,” you reassure her, even as your own throat tightens with emotion. “i’ve got you.”

she clings to you, her tears soaking into your skin as you run your fingers through her hair, murmuring soft words of comfort. for once, there’s no strongest, no cocky remarks, no facade. just satoru, raw and vulnerable, seeking the comfort she so rarely lets herself need.

⋆˙⟡ —

gojo was already halfway through the door, his trademark bravado in full force as he prepared to yell and drag his female counterpart off you. he was ready to reprimand her for trying to get into his girlfriend’s pants — again.

but then he froze.

the sight before him should’ve sent him into a fit of rage: her large frame draped over yours, her hands clutching you tightly, your fingers stroking her hair. it was intimate, far too intimate. but it wasn’t the position that stopped him. it was the sound.

soft, stuttering cries filled the room, muffled against your neck.

his jaw tightened as his eyes flicked to hers — those same brilliant blue orbs he saw every day in the mirror. but this time, they weren’t filled with mischief or lust. 

they were red, puffy, glistening with tears. the same look he’s seen reflected back at himself during the rare moments he allowed himself to break.

it hit him like a punch to the gut.

for all her cocky remarks, her sly smirks, her shameless antics, he recognized what she was feeling. he knew it too well.

and when her tear-streaked face turned to meet his gaze, it wasn’t with her usual defiance or teasing. it was raw, filled with an unspoken plea he understood without words.

gojo swallowed thickly, his fists clenching at his sides. for a moment, he hated seeing himself like that — so exposed, so... human.

“you’re just like me,” he murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible as his heart twisted in his chest.

and for the first time, he didn’t barge in, didn’t yell or tease. instead, he stood there, watching as you cradled the part of him he didn’t let anyone else see.

gojo stood there for a beat too long, debating whether to leave or join. he knew what fem-gojo was feeling — hell, it was his feelings, wasn’t it? — but addressing them? with words? that wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

he cleared his throat awkwardly, and both you and satoru turned your heads toward him.

"uh, hey," he started, scratching the back of his neck. "so, uh... group hug or what?"

you snorted, shaking your head. "get in here, you idiot."

“don’t call me that in front of her,” he grumbled, pointing at his counterpart, though he quickly shuffled over. fem-gojo raised her head slightly, glaring through her tears.

“you mean me? the better you?” she snarked, though her voice cracked halfway through.

gojo rolled his eyes but crawled onto the bed, situating himself next to the two of you. "yeah, better at crying, maybe."

"oh, like you don’t cry," she shot back, sniffing.

“never. not once. you’re a glitch in the matrix or sumn',” he said, pulling a face that immediately earned him a smack on the arm from you.

“satoru,” you warned.

“fine, fine.” he let out a long sigh, glancing at fem-gojo before finally reaching out, hesitantly patting her on the back. “there, there, uh... me?”

you burst out laughing despite yourself, covering your mouth with a hand as satoru shot you an exasperated look.

“don’t laugh! it's weird!” he protested, his hand still awkwardly rubbing her back in tiny, unsure circles.

fem-gojo let out a watery laugh through her sniffles, leaning her head back on your shoulder. "god, you’re pathetic."

“pathetic?! i’m not the one crying into someone else’s neck right now!”

“you’re literally crying on the inside right now,” she countered.

gojo froze, his hand stopping mid-pat. "...you shut up."

you rolled your eyes, tugging gojo closer so that he was sitting flush against fem-gojo. "look, you both are disasters. but you’re the same disaster, so maybe... i don’t know, figure it out together?"

satoru frowned, glancing at her again. his fingers twitched. "look, uh... you don’t have to... like, cry or whatever. i mean, i get it. i do."

“wow, deep,” she said, though her voice was softer.

he huffed, crossing his arms. "hey, it is deep! do you know how hard it is for me to open up like this?!”

“you call this opening up?” she muttered, but there was a flicker of a smile on her lips now.

“oh, don’t you start —”

you silenced him with a gentle nudge, smiling as you reached over to intertwine your fingers with his. "you’re doing great, babe."

he narrowed his eyes at you but eventually sighed, letting his head drop back against the headboard. "look, just... we’re the strongest, okay? we’ll get through... whatever this is. together. and maybe with mochi. lots of mochi."

fem-gojo finally let out a real laugh, her tears drying up as she wiped at her eyes. "god, you really are a loser."

“yeah, well, you’re stuck with me. literally.”

you couldn’t help but grin as you looked between them, the two most chaotic, emotionally constipated people in your life finally finding some common ground. even if it was over their mutual awkwardness.

"so... mochi, then?" you teased.

"go get some," they said in unison, both turning to you with the same expectant look.

"oh, you’ve got to be kidding me."

⋆˙⟡ —

you shuffled into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of daifuku mochi — the fancy ones he insisted on buying in bulk from that one upscale japanese market downtown. because of course he had to have the best mochi.

as you made your way back to the bedroom, tired and a little cranky, the sound of gojo’s voice drifted out into the hallway. at first, you thought nothing of it — probably just him and fem-gojo bickering again — but then the words registered.

“oh, and this one — this bad boy’s a classic,” gojo was saying, his tone tinged with nostalgia. “the first time we used it, she couldn’t walk for, like, two days.”

you stopped in your tracks.

“are you serious? that’s what you chose to bring up?” fem-gojo’s voice replied, though it sounded more amused than judgmental.

“hey, don’t knock it till you try it,” he shot back, and you heard a muffled sound, presumably the toy being held up for emphasis.

you slowly pushed the door open, and sure enough, there was gojo, sitting cross-legged on the bed with the most ridiculous grin plastered on his face. in one hand, he held your trusty pink wand vibrator, and in the other, a butt plug with a gem on the end — both of which he displayed like prized trophies.

fem-gojo was lying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, watching him with thinly veiled amusement. “so what’s that one?” she asked, pointing at the silicone dildo beside him.

“oh, that? that’s the one we used during her birthday last year,” he said with a wistful sigh, holding it up like it was some kind of holy relic. “man, what a night. she screamed so loud that the neighbors banged on the wall.”

your face burned as you stumbled into the room, nearly dropping the bag of mochi. "what the hell are you two doing?!"

both heads turned toward you in unison, blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

“oh, hey, babe,” gojo said, waving the butt plug at you like it was a greeting. “we were just reminiscing.”

“yeah,” fem-gojo chimed in, smirking. “your man here is really sentimental, huh? ’s kinda cute.”

“sentimental?” you repeated, glaring at your boyfriend.

he shrugged, completely unfazed. “what? these are like, milestones in our relationship. you can’t just throw these memories away.”

“memories? memories?!” you groaned, setting the mochi down on the nightstand. “‘toru, do you hear yourself? you sound like a pervert!”

“oh, c’mooon, don’t be like that,” he pouted, leaning forward to grab the bag of mochi. “besides, you love me. and her, apparently.”

“barely,” you muttered, though the heat in your face betrayed you.

“aw, don’t be shy, babe,” fem-gojo teased, rolling onto her back and stretching languidly. “you know you’re lucky to have two of us.”

“lucky? my back says otherwise.”

the two of them burst into laughter, and you buried your face in your hands, wondering for the millionth time how you’d ended up in this situation.

and as if they could read your mind, gojo leaned over, patting the space next to him. “c’mere, don’t be mad. let’s eat some mochi and talk about that other toy we’ve been meaning to try.”

you groaned, flopping onto the bed in defeat. “i hate both of you.”

“lies,” they chorused, and you couldn’t help but laugh despite yourself.

⋆˙⟡ —

you were trying — really trying — to enjoy the packet of daifuku mochi as it made its way around the bed. the sweet bean paste was supposed to be a distraction, a way to ground yourself after everything that had transpired over the last 24 hours. 

but no, peace wasn’t an option.

"ya know," gojo said through a mouthful of mochi, holding up the wand vibrator like it was a microphone, "this one’s underrated. it looks basic, but the power, babe. remember how —"

"we get it, ‘toru," you cut him off, your voice strained as you grabbed another mochi to shove into your mouth. maybe if you kept chewing, you wouldn’t have to participate in this conversation.

fem-gojo snickered, popping a mochi into her own mouth before leaning closer to you. “you’re bein’ shy, huh? don’t worry, sweetheart, we know how much you looovve this one.” she waggled her eyebrows, motioning at the very wand vibrator in question.

you could feel your face heating up to a level that could rival the sun. “can you two not talk about this right in front of me?”

“but why not?” gojo teased, sliding closer until his thigh was pressed against yours. “’s not like you’re embarrassed, are you? you’ve used all of these.”

"i will throw this entire bag of mochi at your head," you muttered, holding the packet threateningly.

“aw, don’t be like that, doll,” fem-gojo cooed, her voice sugary sweet, though the mischievous glint in her eyes said otherwise. “we’re just reminiscing. plus, you’re blushin’, which means you’re totally into it.”

you glared at her, cheeks practically burning. “i’m blushing because you two won’t shut up.”

but the truth? the truth was much worse. as much as you hated to admit it, their teasing was doing things to you. the way their voices dropped an octave when they reminisced, the heat in their gazes, the proximity — all of it made your thighs clench involuntarily.

and you prayed to every deity you could think of that they couldn’t tell.

unfortunately, subtlety wasn’t your strong suit, and these two were anything but oblivious.

fem-gojo leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “what’s wrong, sweetheart? ya squirmin’ a lot.”

you froze, eyes darting to gojo, who was already smirking. "you’re awfully quiet now," he remarked, his hand casually resting on your thigh. "something on your mind?"

"nothing," you squeaked, clenching the mochi packet in your hands like it was a lifeline.

"reaallly?" fem-gojo purred, her hand trailing dangerously close to the hem of your shorts. "’cuz babe, we can feel how worked up you are."

your breath hitched, and you cursed your body for betraying you. “you two are insufferable.”

gojo laughed, his hand sliding up your thigh to join his female counterpart. “nah, we’re just really good at reading you. isn’t that right, satoru?”

fem-gojo grinned wickedly, her fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “totally. we’re a team, after all.”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands as the heat pooling in your stomach became impossible to ignore.

“look at that,” gojo said, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “our girl’s shy, but she’s soaked.”

“think we should help her out?” fem-gojo added, her tone faux-innocent as her hand slipped higher.

you had shitty luck. definitely shitty luck. and as much as you hated to admit it, you weren’t about to stop them. not when their touch felt this good.

⋆˙⟡ —

you've always thought the saying keep your friends close, but your enemies closer was a decent piece of advice. practical, even. 

apparently, the two white-haired nuisances misheard it as keep your girlfriend close, but her sex toys closer, because right now, they were parading around the room with the entire collection of your toys like salesmen at a bizarrely personal convention.

“this one,” fem gojo started, holding up the suction vibrator with a devious grin, “‘s a classic. compact, effective, and i know someone here loves how quick it can get her to cum.”

“oh, but this —” gojo’s voice cut in as she brandished the glass dildo, twirling it like a baton. “this is art. sleek, sexy, and cold in all the right ways. remember that night when —”

“nope!” you interrupted, your face heating up as you snatched a nearby pillow to throw at him. “we are not going there.”

“oh, babe, we’re just gettin’ started,” fem-gojo teased. “don’t forget this bad boy.” she held up the dual-ended strap-on, dangling it in front of you like it was a prized possession.

you groaned, sinking deeper into the mattress as your face burned hotter. “why do you even have that?”

fem-gojo grinned, plopping down next to you with the butt plug in hand. “because you’re adventurous. and we love that about you.”

"and let's not forget," gojo added, leaning over to waggle the remote-controlled egg vibrator like it was a trophy. "this one. great for public and private use. remember that restaurant trip?"

"i will actually scream," you muttered, dragging the blanket over your head as if it could shield you from their antics.

"awwww, don’t hide, sweetheart," fem-gojo cooed, tugging the blanket away. “we’re just brainstormin’ here. picking out what’ll make the day extra fun.”

“yeah,” gojo agreed, dropping the pile of toys onto the bed before climbing on top of you. “but honestly, we’ll probably just use all of them. right, satoru?”

fem-gojo smirked, crawling up beside you. “absolutely. variety’s the spice of life, after all.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but before you could get a word out, your boyfriend had flipped you onto your stomach, his weight pressing you into the mattress as his hands pinned yours above your head.

“we’ll let you pick,” he murmured against your ear, his voice dripping with faux kindness.

“for, like, two seconds,” fem-gojo chimed in, her hands already tracing down your sides.

“and then we’ll do whatever we want,” they said in unison, their voices harmonizing in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

you were doomed. delightfully, utterly doomed.

you barely had a second to process what was happening. one minute, you were watching them bicker like overgrown children, and the next, the suction vibrator was pressed firmly against you, its unrelenting rhythm leaving your mind blank except for one resounding thought:

fuck! fuck! fuck!

your pleas — if you could even call them that — were an unintelligible mess. and to make things worse? they weren’t even listening.

“please — ah! — don’t stop!” you cried, your body trembling as the sensations overwhelmed you.

“oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” gojo drawled from his spot beside you, his grin sharp as ever. “we don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.”

“yeah,” fem-gojo chimed in, her tone equally as sadistic as she pressed the toy down harder, watching your body jerk with morbid fascination. “you’re s’cute when you’re beggin’, though. keep going.”

you gasped, your back arching involuntarily as another orgasm crashed over you. your legs twitched, trying to close around the relentless toy, but fem-gojo tutted, holding you open with ease.

and then you noticed it — she wasn’t even paying full attention anymore.

“are you — are you seriously eating right now?” you managed to choke out between gasps, your glazed eyes flicking to her free hand, which was holding a piece of mochi.

“hm?” fem-gojo looked up mid-bite, her bright eyes wide with mock innocence. “what? girl’s gotta keep her energy up. besides, ya got him —” she nodded toward your boyfriend, who was leaning over you with the smuggest, most shit-eating grin ever — “to keep ya entertained.”

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” you whimpered, squirming as gojo replaced the suction vibrator with his fingers, curling them just right to draw out another cry from your lips.

“hey, i’m working here,” your boyfriend said, his tone dripping with faux exasperation as if he were the one being put through the wringer. “she’s just freeloading.”

“excuse me?” fem-gojo huffed, swallowing her bite dramatically. “i set this whole thing up. i’m the mastermind here!”

“yeah, yeah,” gojo muttered, his attention fully on you now as he leaned down to nip at your ear. “she’s not the one ruining you right now, though, is she?”

“as if you could do this without me,” fem-gojo shot back, shoving another piece of mochi into her mouth as she casually flicked the suction vibrator back on, earning a loud, desperate moan from you.

your head spun, torn between pleasure and sheer disbelief. and as another wave of a telltale orgasm built in your stomach, you realized with absolute certainty that surviving these two was going to take a miracle — or at least a lot more snacks to keep one of them distracted.

⋆˙⟡ —

you’d lost track of time, of everything really, as the relentless assault on your body continued. 

it had only been — what? three orgasms ago? — when you thought you’d truly reached your limit, but nope. the suction vibrator was living up to its reputation, wringing every last shred of coherence out of you like a goddamn champion.

you whimpered, your thighs trembling uncontrollably as the toy finally stopped. for a brief, blissful second, you thought they were giving you a break.

but no, that hope was short-lived.

“geez, so sensitive,” fem-gojo cooed, tugging the vibrator out of you with an audible pop!, ignoring your weak whines and the way your hips tried to jerk away from her.

“don’t tell me you’re done already,” gojo added from his spot beside you, that familiar shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

you didn’t even have the energy to retort, your body trembling like a leaf. but what had you blinking back into reality was when fem-gojo — your filthy, depraved, down-bad excuse of a…girlfriend? partner? — brought the vibrator to her lips.

and licked it.

“oh my god,” you croaked, your voice hoarse as you stared in abject horror — and, god help you, a bit of arousal — as she practically drooled over the damn thing.

“what?” she said nonchalantly, swirling her tongue over the toy as if it were nothing. “gotta clean it, right?”

“clean it?” you echoed, your face flushing hotter by the second. “you’re — you’re disgusting!”

“am i?” she mused, licking a slow stripe along the edge before popping it out of her mouth with a smug grin. “taste just like mochi. sweet ‘n soft and sticky. good stuff.”

“oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands as your boyfriend outright cackled beside you.

“she’s got a point,” gojo chimed in, leaning over to smirk at you. “you do have that ‘irresistible dessert’ vibe. maybe we should start calling you ‘mochi.’”

“don’t you dare,” you snapped, your voice muffled against your hands.

“mochi it is,” fem-gojo declared with an exaggeratedly serious tone, popping another piece of actual mochi into her mouth as if to punctuate her statement.

you peeked through your fingers to glare at them both, but the effect was ruined by the way your body was still trembling, and the flush across your skin wasn’t helping either.

“geez,” fem-gojo muttered, her tone too casual for comfort as she gestured toward you with the vibrator. “she even jiggles like mochi. see?”

your jaw dropped, and the absolute audacity of her words was almost enough to jolt you upright — if your body wasn’t completely boneless from the onslaught.

“you’re both insane,” you muttered weakly, your voice lacking any real conviction.

“and yet, here you are,” gojo teased, ruffling your hair like you weren’t on the verge of combusting from sheer embarrassment.

you barely had time to process the chaos unfolding before you — your mind still reeling, your body trembling, and your dignity somewhere in the corner, curled up and crying. fem-gojo, that snarky, insufferable piece of shit, was clearly having the time of her life.

“oh, don’t look so done, mochi baby,” she crooned, her wolfish grin flashing as she grabbed your wrist. “i’ve got a brilliant idea. let’s multitask.”

“what the —” you started, but your words were cut off by the smug gleam in her eyes.

she brought your hand up, guiding it to where your boyfriend sat, already hard and clearly ready for round...what even was it? five? six? you lost track.

“i’m doing what now?” you squawked, but your protest was weak, your voice cracking as she maneuvered your trembling fingers to wrap around his throbbing dick.

“helping your man out,” she quipped, her tone all too chipper as if this was the most normal thing in the world. “don’t tell me you’re too tired to give him a hand, literally.”

“‘toru—” you started to snap, but she cut you off, her free hand sliding down to your already overstimulated cunt, drawing a shocked gasp out of you.

“don’t mind me,” she purred, her lips brushing against your ear as her fingers moved with deliberate precision. “i’ll keep you occupied while you help him out. teamwork makes the dream work, right?”

you shot a desperate look at your boyfriend, who was leaning back, looking far too amused by the situation.

“don’t look at me like that, babe,” he said with a smirk, his blue eyes practically twinkling. “you heard her. teamwork.”

“you’re both the worst,” you groaned, your hand trembling as you tried to follow fem-gojo’s guidance.

your efforts were valiant — or at least you thought so — but your trembling hands weren’t exactly cooperating. and judging by the way your boyfriend’s brows furrowed and his smirk turned into a frown, he wasn’t impressed.

“really, baby?” he muttered, his voice low and edged with irritation. “‘s is the best you can do?”

you opened your mouth to retort, but before you could get a word out, he grabbed your hand, his much larger one wrapping around yours.

“here,” he muttered, his tone dripping with exasperation as he moved both your hands together. “lemme show you how it’s done.”

“oh, wooww, would ya look at that,” fem-gojo chimed in, her grin downright evil as her fingers continued their sinful work on you. “teamwork really does make the dream work.”

your brain was short-circuiting, overwhelmed by the dual sensations of your boyfriend guiding your hand and fem-gojo absolutely finger fucking the living soul out of you. the three of you moving together in this absurdly depraved display of coordination was — god, you didn’t even know anymore.

“you’re — insane,” you managed to gasp out, your voice breaking as you felt your body quiver under fem-gojo’s relentless ministrations.

“baby please, you love it,” she shot back, her voice smug as she nipped at your thigh.

your boyfriend groaned, his hand tightening around yours as he picked up the pace. “focus, babe,” he muttered, his tone commanding.

as if you had any focus left to give.

“therrre we go,” fem-gojo hummed, her voice dripping with amusement as she watched the scene unfold. “’s more like it. look at us, a well-oiled machine.”

you wanted to retort, to say something snarky in return, but all that came out was a broken moan as your boyfriend cums on your hand, his low moan filling the room as the two of you worked together to finish him off.

“teamwork,” fem-gojo teased again, her grin widening as she finally let up on you.

“you’re both awful,” you muttered weakly, collapsing onto the bed.

“and yet, here you are,” your boyfriend quipped, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“mochi baby,” fem-gojo added, and you groaned, throwing a pillow at her face.

⋆˙⟡ —

"wow, six times already, huh?" fem-gojo’s voice broke through the haze of post-orgasm bliss you were floating in, her tone laced with mockery as she leaned against the headboard, arms crossed over her chest. her blue eyes glinted, flicking between you and your boyfriend with the kind of irritation that only her oversized ego could muster.

"must be nice," she drawled, running a hand through her wolfcut in exaggerated frustration. "lover boy here gets to finish, you’re over there makin’ sounds like a damn opera singer, and me? nothing."

"don’t start," you groaned, flopping back onto the bed like a rag doll. your limbs felt like jelly, your body spent, and you were dangerously close to tapping out for the rest of the day.

“oh, don’t start?” she shot back, her eyebrow twitching. “you’re really gonna sit there, lookin’ all fucked out, and say that to me? after all my hard work, this is the thanks i get?”

your boyfriend chuckled, clearly enjoying her theatrics as he tucked himself back into his boxers. "yeah, babe, ’s kinda rude. i mean, she’s got a point."

"oh, shut up!" you snapped, glaring at him. "this is all your fault, you —"

but before you could finish, fem-gojo had already swung a leg over your waist, straddling you with the kind of confidence that only she could pull off.

"what — wait, hold on —" you stammered, wide-eyed as she leaned down, her face far too close to yours.

“nah, sweetheart," she interrupted, smirking as her fingers trailed down your tits. "you don’t get to say ‘hold on.’ not when you’ve been holdin’ out on me."

“what the hell does that even mean?” you hissed, your face heating up as her hands roamed.

“it means,” she purred, leaning closer until her lips brushed against your ear, “i’m gonna sit on your face now.”

“excuse me?!”

your boyfriend burst out laughing, his whole body shaking as he clutched his stomach. "oh my god, this is amazing. please, don’t stop. this is the best thing i’ve seen all day."

“you’re not helping!” you yelled at him, though your voice was quivering as fem-gojo settled herself further down on top of you.

"what’s the matter?" she teased, her grin widening as she reached to tilt your chin up. “don’t tell me you can’t take it. because after everythin’ i’ve seen today, i know for a fact that my pretty girl right here’s a champ.”

“satoru —”

“yeah?” they both replied in unison, and you wanted to scream.

“this is ridiculous," you muttered, though your resolve was already crumbling under her piercing gaze and the way her hands played over your skin.

“ridiculously sexy,” fem-gojo corrected, her smirk turning wicked.

and before you could argue, she shifted her weight, her thighs caging your head, and all you could think was, yea, this is how i die.

your boyfriend leaned back against the pillows, grinning like an idiot as he watched the scene unfold. “yeah, six times is definitely the charm. but hey, babe, looks like you’ve got a seventh in ya after all.”

it was like watching synchronized chaos — if that was even a thing. as if a switch flipped simultaneously in their shared, cursed braincell, both gojos moved in perfect unison, practically tearing at fem-gojo’s top like it offended their very existence. “c’mon, comrade,” your boyfriend cheered, his stupid grin widening as he yanked her shirt up and over her head. “it’s for the greater good.”

“greater good my ass, you’re just horny,” fem-gojo shot back, though she didn’t stop him. in fact, she raised her arms to make it easier, her ridiculously large tits out in the open in all its glory.

“damn right i am,” he quipped, and in the blink of an eye, he was stripped down to nothing but his insufferable confidence.

meanwhile, you were desperately trying to focus on your task. a monumental task. a task fit for a girlboss, because you were a determined woman.

and that task? eating out your insanely hot girlfriend slash partner.

you flattened your tongue against her cunt, trying to ignore the heat flooding your face as her thighs quivered around your head. her hips bucked slightly, and she let out a strangled moan that quickly turned into a string of curses.

“fuck — shit — holy hell, that’s — oh, goddamn it!” fem-gojo gasped, one hand fisting the sheets while the other tangled in your hair. “what the fuck, how — how are you even doing that — fuck — oh my god!”

her cussing was relentless, sharp, and varied enough to make a sailor blush. “shit — fuck me sideways — you’re gonna kill me, holy tits!”

“holy tits?” your boyfriend snorted.

“shut the fuck up, sator — aah! ” fem-gojo snapped, though her voice cracked as another moan escaped her lips.

but you couldn’t even laugh, because you were the one fighting for your life. with gojo gripping your hips like a lifeline, and his cock buried so deep inside you that your vision blurred, outright bruising your insides, it was nearly impossible to concentrate.

"fuck, babe," gojo groaned, his voice low and breathless in your ear. "you’re squeezin’ me so tight — feels so fuckin' good."

and as much as you hated to admit it, tears were streaming down your face, soaking fem-gojo’s thighs as your tongue continued its shaky assault.

“shit — babe, you cryin’?” gojo asked, though his smirk was audible even through the haze of his pleasure. “s that good?”

you wanted to slap him, but all you could do was moan as another thrust hit that sweet spot inside you, making your whole body shudder.

“don’t stop,” fem-gojo whimpered above you, her thighs trembling around your head. “holy fuck, don’t stop — don’t fucking stop — oh m’god, ‘m gonna — fuck!”

and before you could even process her loud, breathy cry, your own orgasm hit like a tidal wave, your walls clenching hard around gojo’s length as you squirted against him.

“oh, fucckkk yeah,” he groaned, his pace stuttering as he chased his own release.

you barely registered anything else, your body shaking with the aftershocks as fem-gojo slumped against the pillows, completely blissed out.

"looks like i win this round," gojo panted, his voice smug as he finally pulled out and collapsed next to you.

"win? win?" you croaked, your voice hoarse and shaky. "satoru, i am literally dying."

and fem-gojo, still catching her breath, managed a weak chuckle. “honestly, me too.”

your boyfriend, the absolute menace, is standing there like he’s giving the keynote address at some unhinged sex expo. with a dramatic sweep of his arm, he gestures to the array of sex toys — sorry, “tools of pleasure” — that he had haphazardly, or as he put it, “meticulously,” arranged while you weren’t looking.

“ladies,” he begins, the same devilish grin on his face that could charm or terrify depending on his mood. “i present to you the greatest hits of our collection: the deluxe rotating dildo 3000 — absolute game changer, might i add — this double-ended masterpiece that got us through valentine’s day last year, and this little number,” he wiggles the suction vibrator like it’s a winning lottery ticket, “for when you need to set a new personal record.”

“oh my god, satoru, shut the fuck up,” you hiss, face burning as you try to hide your mortification behind a pillow.

but fem gojo? oh, she’s eating this shit upp. literally. her blue eyes light up with the kind of crazed glee you’d associate with a sugar-high kid who just got the biggest lollipop at a carnival. it’s neuron activation at its finest, and suddenly you feel a chill crawl up your spine.

“i like this one,” she says, grabbing the double-ended toy with a smirk, spinning it in her hands like she’s about to challenge you to a duel.

“a woman of culture,” your boyfriend says approvingly, holding up a fist for her to bump.

she does, and it’s the single most terrifying moment of your life.

“guys, can we not —” you try to protest, but it’s too late.

“you know what,” fem gojo hums, her voice sultry as she tosses the toy aside, leaning in with a dangerous glint in her eyes. “i was gonna let you off easy after earlier, but…” her gaze flicks to your boyfriend, and the two exchange a look that screams trouble.

“but now,” she continues, her smirk widening, “i’m all charged up. and since my dear clone here is such a team player,”

“we gotta keep the momentum going,” gojo finishes, cracking his knuckles like he’s about to play a round of volleyball.

“no, you really don’t,” you argue, trying to scramble away, but fem gojo’s already got her strong arms around your waist, pulling you back into the fray.

“oh, sweetheart,” she purrs, her lips brushing against your ear, “we’re not stopping until we turn you into a puddle.”

and with that, your fate is sealed.

again.

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[s-awturn]

Night Reveries || F1 Dilfs

cw: vulgarity, pure obscenity, consensual somnophilia, soft approach, fetish for compliments, body worship — reader receiving —, use of pet names, dirty language, fingering, eating p-, p in v.

requested ( x ) yes ( ) no

by: anon

a/n: Unfortunately the epilogue of Moon Spell isn't coming out the way I want and I'm very, very angry about it nothing is going the way I want and I can't finish Moon Spell just any way, so I'm going to move up the requests I have, After all, an empty mind is the devil's workshop and I'm not going to let the devil work in my head.. I hope it met your expectations, it's been a while since I've taken orders.

p.s.: suggestions on how to finish Moon Spell?? Plsss

starring: Toto Wolff, Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Jenson Button, Mark Webber, Kimi Raikkonen.

TOTO WOLFF:

The day was dawning when he resolved all the pending work issues, he was so focused on getting everything organized that he didn't even notice the tiredness in his body, but when he finally finished, could feel how tense and sore his shoulders were. He closed his laptop and left his eyes on the desk. Toto wouldn't be available to anyone for the next few days, except his wife, who was sleeping peacefully at the end of the hallway.

Lazily, he dragged himself to the guest room's bathroom, where you and Toto usually left a few pieces of clothing for situations like this, where they ended up working late and didn't want to disturb each other's sleep. Toto put on some light pants and went to the suite he shared with you, and there he found you, sprawled on his side of the bed, wrapped in his pillows. He felt his heart warm at the sight and decided to lie down on your side of the bed and wrapped his arms around your waist, you gave a satisfied sigh and snuggled into him, making Toto feel all your soft curves, he breathed into your neck, feeling your perfume and He ended up grunting when you pressed your ass against his hip, without interrupting your sleep.

He buried his face in her neck, feeling filthy from the thoughts he was having, he couldn't stain the innocence of her rest with his perverse desires, but it didn't make it any easier to have her ass against his dick. God, it made it seem like you hadn't had sex in weeks, when he had made you cum just the morning before.

You moved completely in his arms, and turned to lie facing Toto, wrapping your leg around his waist, fitting yourself as best you could into the larger man's body, making Toto growl softly. Just when he thought it was going to get better, you made it worse, because now Toto's cock was right under you, hardening even more in your heat.

“mein gott” He groaned, pressing you tighter against him. How selfish would he be to wake you up just to fuck you?

It was better to try to sleep, to ignore the stinging heat building in her stomach and the moisture that escaped from your panties and stained his pants. What the hell had he done to be tortured like that?

But his ramblings were thrown into space when he felt you mount him, moving your pelvis against Toto, he took advantage of the consent you had given him and He pulled the lace of your panties aside, he couldn't see, but he would give you all his money if you weren't glistening with wetness.

“It’s almost a sin to waste such a feast, schatz,” he said, licking his lips. Toto got rid of his cotton pants and rubbed his cock against your pussy, drawing cute moans from you, he held you by the waist, high enough to reach your breasts so you could ride him. “You’re dripping in me, fuck,” and with that, he entered you slowly, stretching you around him, his grip making him bite his lip until it bled. In slow, gentle thrusts, he managed to hit her cervix over and over again.

“Toto? What are you-” you fell silent as you felt the thrust harder, hitting sensitive spots on you. “Toto...” you moaned, grinding yourself into him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, love, I’ll take care of you,” he assured, letting you enjoy what he wanted to give you. You moaned again, digging your nails into him.

It wasn't selfish if you wanted it too, right?

SEBASTIAN VETTEL:

Six weeks, three days, nine hours, twelve minutes and thirty-one seconds.

This was the time that you and Sebastian had not seen each other, the racing season was in full swing, Seb was still at the top with an impeccable performance, and your job didn't allow you to accompany him on his trips. All this distance was driving you both crazy, he couldn't wait to be home again, enjoying the two weeks of summer vacation allowed. He couldn't even think about anything other than you, nothing else was occupying the pilot's mind as he parked in the garage of the house you shared.

But since nothing was perfect, he had only managed to return in the middle of the night, it was around four in the morning and he would find you sleeping soundly. With that in mind, he went straight to the bathroom, since sleeping with you was all he had left. Sebastian took a quick shower and returned to the room wearing only a towel, to see you in nothing but his shirt, his heart clenched with the longing he felt for everything about you: your loud, spontaneous laugh, the way you frowned when you read, your unique habits. He missed the way you hugged him or ran your nails down his back. Of everything.

He put on a pair of sweatpants and lay down with you, at the same time you literally trapped him between your legs, thinking he was his pillow. Sebastian's hips fitted into yours, exactly where he needed them.

You sighed sleepily and moved your pelvis, rubbing yourself against him. He muffled his heavy breathing, wrapping his arm around your waist as you buried your face in his neck, as if the scent of his soap — that you wore every day he was away — would be different on his skin. He pressed you tighter against him, feeling you grind your pussy against his half-pumped cock.

“scheiße, puppe” (fuck, doll) he swore in German, biting her lip hard. “you’re not making this easy for me, love,” he murmured, holding you.

He took a deep breath, trying not to let it affect him any more than it already did, but feeling the familiar heat of your pussy against his cock was melting his neurons.

That was something common between you, you and Sebastian had already woken each other up several times with sex, and he considered waking you up this way.

But shit, it was too early for him to wake you up and there he was, hard as a rock and you were rubbing yourself against him without knowing it.

He tried to distract himself, not to think about you grinding against him, the wet spot spreading across his pants as you moved against him, your heat radiating off him, as if the sweatshirt was nothing between the two of you. Sebastian drew circles on her thigh, not even close to feeling as sleepy as he should, and slowly he slid his fingers across her skin until he reached the elastic of her panties and without much difficulty, Sebastian tore the seam of her panties, giving him easier access to her folds.

And by God, you were dripping.

He slid his fingers between your labia, groaning at how slippery you felt, accepting his touch so well.

“oh my god, baby, you’re killing me,” he said, playing with your clit, feeling you thrust your hips into him. “okay, okay, I got you, puppe.”

He gave up on maintaining his composure — if ripping your panties and fingering you wasn't already inelegant — and pulled down the waistband of the sweatpants he was wearing, he used it as a relief when freed from the restraint of the clothing, he let you rub yourself against him, letting your soaking wet pussy lick his cock. You breathed heavily, moaning sweetly as she ground your clit against the glans of his penis. Sebastian helped you mount his cock, sniffing in your ear as you slid down his shaft until your hips were joined.

“like this, love” he slid until only the head of his cock was inside you, smiling evilly as you wiggled, still fast asleep. He thrust slowly, feeling you slowly open around him. “your sweet pussy already has the shape of my cock, doesn’t it puppe?” he asked rhetorically, increasing his thrusts as her moans became more frequent. You whimpered, digging your nails into his back, rubbing yourself against him, feeling the friction of his hips against your clit making you even more horny. You tightened around him and Sebastian literally growled in your ear.

“Seb” now you were wide awake, wanting him to go faster, harder. “Seb, mhmm, please”

“whatever you want, puppe, anything” Sebastian growled, this time the sound of the clash between you echoed through the room. “i missed you so much, baby.”

“me too, me too,” you stuttered, wiggling your hips.

You two didn't stop, not even when the sun came up in the sky, after all, you had weeks of longing to appease.

FERNANDO ALONSO:

He sat up in bed, in disbelief at what had just happened. At forty-something, Fernando had come in his sleep, just like a teenager going through puberty. If he wasn't so pissed off, he would have certainly laughed at how absurd the situation was, he looked at the state of his underwear, completely wet with cum; he could blame himself, mainly because his last thoughts before going to sleep involved you, in situations that couldn't be talked about at family lunch. So it was your fault.

You were the one who made him have a wet dream and made him cum while he was still asleep. He got up, furious with rage, and went to take a cold shower, to try to get rid of the heat that had taken hold of him, and even under the cold jet of water, nothing could lower his extremely hard cock. Quite the opposite, it only left him cold and angrier. “i don't have fifteen fucking years left to masturbate in the shower, shit” he complained to himself, feeling his cock throb and resting his head on the cold bathroom tile. Fresh memories of the dream came back to him, your soft mouth welcoming him so well as he fucked your throat until he heard you choke.

“Fuck” he complained, getting out of the shower, the cold water didn’t help at all, the only thing that would calm him down was you, sitting on him until you both came. He barely dried himself and went to the bedroom, finding you asleep between the blankets, you hated pajamas and any nightwear, so you slept almost naked, if it weren't for your panties. Fernando grunted as he climbed onto the bed, not caring about wetting the bed, he wanted to eat you, so that's what he would do, after all he had your consent since you started dating.

Somnophilia was your favorite fetish, much to his surprise.

He kissed your body sloppily, leaving small marks on your belly, thighs and breasts, but none of this interrupted your sleep, you remained asleep as if nothing was happening. Fernando bit and sucked your nipples until you spoke, nothing he could understand, then he continued, moving his hands down your waist until he got rid of your panties, the Spaniard opened his legs a little to look at your sex, slightly wet and that could get soaked in a few minutes with his mere touch. He dragged you to the edge of the bed and literally buried his face between your thighs, growling at the scent of you. No other woman had such an effect on him as you did, you could make Fernando excited just with your doe-like gaze, your scent then, drove him crazy.

He wasn't gentle, so what if you woke up? Then he would have an opportunity to fuck you hard, just like he did in the dream. Fernando grabbed her legs tightly, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her thighs and in the roughest way possible, he ate your pussy. Licks, sucks and even light bites were given, making you writhe in your sleep, he could hear your confused moans, but that didn't stop him, the pilot kept eating you until you were grinding on his face, wanting more kisses, more bites. You didn't care much about the pain, quite the opposite, you loved it when he was rougher.

“Nando?” you woke up confused, finding your boyfriend between your legs, his mouth still glued to your pussy. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you fell back onto the bed. “w-what hap-happened?”

“nothing,” he grunted without pulling away, you wiggled in his mouth, sighing in pleasure as you felt his tongue on you, where you needed it most. “I'm enjoying my privileges of being able to fuck my little whore whenever I want”

You trembled, about to cum, but he pulled away and pulled you to your knees in front of him, your face level with his hard cock. You looked at his hard penis and then at Fernando, he traced the outline of your lips with his thumb and stuck his finger in your mouth “suck”

And you obeyed, wrapping his thumb with his tongue, as if it were his cock in his mouth. Fernando got even harder, if that was possible.

“good girl” he praised before slamming his cock into her lips, “open your mouth for me, tesoro”

JENSON BUTTON:

Once again, you obeyed, and damn, who said dreams don't come true?

As he had done for years, Jenson woke up in the early hours of the morning to get some exercise, he liked to spend his time on the treadmill or hitting the sandbag in the small gym you kept at home. He lost count of how many times he called you to train with him, but you were not a morning person and you would never trade a few extra hours of sleep for morning workouts.

It was close to nine in the morning when he returned to the suite you shared, his plans were simple: set out some clothes, take a shower and let you sleep as much as you wanted, but when he entered the room, nothing went according to his plans.

Because, you see, Jenson had just had an intense workout and He was bursting with endorphins and serotonin, but none of that compared to the way his body reacted to seeing you sleeping. Clinging to his pillow, with the sheets piled up on her hips, wearing nothing but socks. Nothing special, right? Not for Jenson, fuck it, he didn't need much to get hard and ready for you, just like a boy in puberty.

He tried to push away the dirty thoughts that permeated his mind, not that the two of you were against somnophilia, but you had never actually tried it. He remembered an old conversation between you about achievable fetishes.

“being woken up with sex” he said simply and your eyes widened as you bit the straw of your gin and tonic, that made you think. You never stopped to think about that and the prospect of waking up to Jenson fucking you made you squirm in your seat. “what does that look like to you?”

“interesting, we can try it someday... but we need to establish signals so we can understand when this will be well received by the other person”

“fair, what do you suggest?”

Having a good night's sleep was the main point, and the absence of clothes, since you were both fans of pajamas. He took two long steps towards the bed and confirmed his theory by lifting the sheet, except for your socks (because you hated sleeping with cold feet), you were completely naked. He cursed in a grunt and Jenson felt his erection throb.

“fuck, peach” he cursed and kicked his sneakers away, and his workout clothes followed suit, he also threw the sheets away and gazed at his sleeping figure, your breasts crushed against his pillow, your pussy exposed by the position you were in. “and one more time i’m going to take your first time, peach” he murmured, wetting his fingers in his mouth before sliding them into your folds. you grunted but didn’t wake up. “relax baby, I’ll take care of you,” he murmured, and carefully, He made you lie on your back and spread your legs.

He rubbed your folds again, cursing as he felt your juices wet his fingers, making it easier for him to move against your clit. You were so responsive, responding so well to him. Jenson saw your chest fill with more oxygen, you gave a loud and long sigh at his touch on you, but none of that shook your sleep, on the contrary, you seemed to be far from waking up; he caressed your thighs before leaving small kisses down your breasts, abdomen and groin, no matter how many times Jenson saw you naked, you were still the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. And he never seemed to get tired of watching, ever.

He lay down on the bed, feeling the sheets rub against his erection, eliciting a hoarse moan from him, all he wanted was to get inside you right away, but fuck, he'd be damned if he didn't taste you. He rubbed his hips against the bed and before everything became torment, he kissed your pussy and placed your legs over his shoulders. Jenson hummed at the taste of you on his tongue, and it seemed to fuel his hunger for you, he spread you open with his fingers and licked your clit until you whimpered in your sleep. Like an addicted man, he suckled your clit until the bud was swollen and shiny with saliva and stimulation, Jenson made sure to rub his mouth all over you, just like you did when you rode his face, using him to bring yourself to orgasm; his fingers played with your needy entrance, feeling you throb around his digits, eager for anything he could give you.

“holy shit, peach,” he cursed, licking you with increasing need, Jenson felt you wet his chin to the point of dripping onto the mattress. You were about to wake up, because your grumbling increased and all your attempts to close your legs were useless, Jenson was holding them as if his life depended on it. “you’re so fucking wet, can you feel how easily my fingers enter you? Imagine what it will be like when it’s my dick instead of my fingers.”

He spread his fingers inside you, making you arch your back and thrust your hips against him, your eyes flew open and you whimpered. Not that he would complain about being strangled by your thighs.

“Jense, fuck I-I was-” your voice trailed off as he licked his fingers from your still-filled hole to your aching clit. ��Oh my God, shit!” you swore, grabbing his hair and pushing him further against your pussy.

“was what, peach?” he whispered, kissing your folds as if they were his mouth, making you roll your eyes and grind against his mouth. “Huh?”

“i-it doesn’t matter” you breathed between moans “please Jense, please let me ride you” you begged him, shaking “I-I want to cum in you”

Jenson gave you one last lick before pulling his fingers out of you and giving your pussy a light slap, making you scream. He still took his time, fingering your folds, letting your pleasure completely cover his fingers. He pushed his fingers against your lips and you sucked every drop of your juices, moaning at the taste of you, making him groan at the sight.

“come ride me, peach” he pulled your thighs until you were on his lap, the pink head of his cock pressed against your clit, which made you both moan. You were close to cumming, He then, no need to say anything. “ride me until you cum, princess” he pushed his thick member against her throbbing hole. You moaned and he grunted, thrusting in until you felt the swollen head of his cock hitting your g-spot.

MARK WEBBER:

You wouldn't mind waking up early if that's how Jenson was going to wake you up.

He woke up with sudden movements in bed and it and it wouldn't be a surprise if you were in the middle of a nightmare, with your thesis approaching the final stage, you rarely had a peaceful night's sleep. But not that night, Mark caught a glimpse of the time on the clock radio, six thirty in the morning; he rubbed his eyes and prepared to wake you before you woke up in tears, however, a plaintive moan made him freeze in place, just looking at you sleeping.

“Mark... Please” you begged, still asleep. He watched your fingers twist the comforter and your legs close tightly. “Please!”

Your pleading voice made his hackles stand on end, he blinked in astonishment a few times until he came to the conclusion that you were having a wet dream. About him. This certainty made his blood run thicker through his veins, warming his entire body; you and Mark had an unspoken agreement, if one of you woke up with the other having this kind of dream, could and should move forward. Have you ever had the chance to wake Mark up with a blowjob or literally sitting on him sometimes, but the Australian has never had the chance to have you in his sleep.

If hearing you moan his name in your sleep hadn't already turned him on, the knowledge that he could fuck you while you were asleep did.

Fuck, if he wasn't feeling like a teenager there.

He carefully pulled back the duvet so as not to wake you and settled between your legs. The wet spot on your pajama shorts made him smile; Mark lay in the space between your thighs and pulled the delicate fabric away from its glossy folds.

“what do you need, doll?” he asked, sliding his fingers slowly into her pussy. A fun fact about people who talk in their sleep: will answer anything they are asked.

He saw your face scrunch up and he circled your swollen clit with his thumb, chuckling softly as he saw you jump.

“i-i want you,” he replied softly, still sleeping soundly.

“really?” he continued to tease the sensitive little spot, you trembled even more

“yes yes please” she begged him

“okay baby, anything you want” he ripped her shorts and covered her pussy with his mouth. He himself couldn’t contain the moan of satisfaction as he felt his taste flood his mouth. You were incredibly wet and his fingers slid easily inside you. You cried out at the suction on your clit and melted completely when he let his teeth roll lightly over the swollen bud. Mark watched as tears wet your closed eyes and you squirmed more, letting go of the comforter to grab his hair.

“Mark!” you exclaimed, your back coming off the mattress and your eyes flying open, but they didn’t stay open for long. “f-fuck, so good!”

He hummed, letting go of your thigh to grab your breast over your shirt, you placed your hand over his, tightening the grip. You were close, your cloudy mind couldn't identify anything other than his mouth eating you with such desire and your orgasm growing in your stomach.

Whimpering whimpers escaped her throat as he pulled away, his chin soaked with her juices and his dark eyes shining.

“come sit on my face, doll” he lies down on the bed and you crawl on top of him. He hugged your hips and made you sit on his mouth, hitting exactly where you needed it, you held on to the headboard so you wouldn't fall on him, your legs went weak with each stroke of his soft tongue on your clit. You wouldn't last much longer.

He made you move, riding his tongue like it was his cock.

“Mark- baby, I-I’m g-gonna-” you stuttered, biting the inside of your cheek.

"come on doll, cum for me, go" he asked without taking his mouth off you and you gave in, your body shaking violently as you came in his mouth. It took all of Mark's self-control not to cum in his pants like a teenager. He felt rock hard and his balls ached with the urge to cum, but this moment was about you.

Always about you.

He carefully placed you on the bed and saw you smile, tired, the thin layer of sweat made you shine and he brushed away the strands of hair that stuck to your forehead.

“was it good?” he asked, watching the white t-shirt stick to her breasts, outlining the hard nipples.

“fucking very good, love” you replied breathlessly, but your tiredness seemed to evaporate when you saw the bulging mark of his cock against his pajama pants. “but it might be better” and you pushed him on the bed, sitting down exactly where he wanted you.

KIMI RAIKKONEN:

That was one way to wake up.

“i want you to fuck me while I sleep,” you had blurted out as he read the newspaper over breakfast. Few things could surprise Kimi Raikkonen, and you were certainly one of them.

He choked on the tea he was drinking and put down the newspaper, you were too focused on your own magazine to notice his incredulous look. How did you say things like that so naturally?

“what the fuck, Y/N?!” he said a little exasperated.

“why the surprise? I didn’t say anything out of the ordinary, Raikkonen,” you said, still focused on your magazine. He dropped the paper for good and ruffled his blond hair, becoming even more exasperated. “i really want you to fuck me while I sleep, I’ve always wanted to, but I’ve never trusted anyone enough,” you confessed, finally looking at him, “but I trust you and I want you to do this, as rudely as you can.”

Ever since then, your request has been plaguing his mind (both of them, to be honest), he couldn't distract himself from your words and whenever he actually stopped to think about it, he ended up excited. You really were a surprising little thing.

At night, you put on your cute pajamas, kissed him and didn't let him forget your request, giving him your best puppy dog look “please, Kimi, I want it so bad” and your lip trembled, making the request even more believable. “you have my consent to be as hard as you want, I will love it”

And with that, you rolled over and fell asleep almost instantly, leaving him awake with a hundred questions and an aching erection between his legs. Kimi watched the first few hours of your sleep, her mind still spinning around your request, if you wanted it, there was nothing wrong, right? You had assured him that you wanted it. But Kimi was still reluctant.

He never considered the idea of having sex with you while you were sleeping, nor did he expect you to want it. Who would have thought that behind her cute baby face was hiding a little whore who likes hard sex? He rested his head on the headboard, the clock indicated that it was past two in the morning.

He looked at you, your fluffy silk pajamas that hid nothing from his imagination, your soft curves, your sleeping face. You were driving him crazy.

“fuck” he cursed and kicked the covers away, watching you try to snuggle against him. Kimi saw your nipples harden from the cold, marking the delicate silk of the babydoll.

i want you to fuck me while I sleep

i want you to fuck me while I sleep

i want you to fuck me while I sleep

Your request reverberated in his mind as he watched you until the moment all fear left him and Kimi ripped your pajamas, dividing the silk into two pieces. Kimi made you turn over in bed, with your chest against the bed and your ass in the air, high enough for him to be able to fuck you in your favorite position.

He should have picked up on the signs that you weren't so innocent, that you didn't want to be treated like a princess. His beautiful little girl wanted to be treated like a prostitute, how could he refuse? Kimi grabbed your hips and brought your wet pussy against his mouth, humming with your taste, you let out a cute little moan, without waking up, Kimi loved your taste, loved knowing that no one else left you dripping like he did and all he had to do was give you a few kitten licks and you would lick his chin. He took his time, eating you out until your lube dripped. He ran his fingers through you, taking what he could and slid your juices onto the tip of his member, and without any shame, he thrust into you until there was no space between you both, his moan mixed with yours as you slowly woke up, with each raw beat of his hips against yours, your naughty smile grew. Kimi took your hands and pinned them behind your back, holding you while his cock hit all the right places inside you, you would wake up sore, used and happy. With his other hand, he landed a hard slap on your ass that would leave marks the next day and grabbed your hair, leaving you on your knees on the bed.

“is this what you wanted, pretty girl? to be used like a dirty little whore? just for my pleasure?”

Yeah, yeah, yeah Kimi!” She exclaimed, writhing for him to go deeper, but Kimi held her back.

“No, no, quiet”

“But Kimi-” she cooed, wanting more. And in response he landed a slap on her clit, which made her moan louder and roll her eyes.

“I told you to be quiet, or you won’t cum today.”

a/n¹: oh jeezz, this was 🔥

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO S-AWTURN™ 🪐. I do not allow copying or republication. Any unauthorized publication will be reported.

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[jetii]

The Safe House

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Reader / Hunter x Medic!Reader

Words: 12,466

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, friends/squadmates to lovers, idiots to lovers actually, mutual pining, some very minor wound care, consent is sexy and so is communication, smut, oral (m and f receiving), coming untouched, dirty talk, scent kink maybe

Summary: After a mission goes sideways, you and Hunter are left stranded for the night. Lucky for you, you know of a safe house nearby. Unlucky for you, there's only one bed.

A/N: I can't even pretend to feel shame about this. Hunter loves to eat and that's it, that's the fic.

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“Well, shit.”

Your hand falls from the doorknob, staring into the cabin with a look of horror on your face. It’s smaller than you remembered. A kitchenette, a fireplace, a dusty armchair, and a single bed. The walls are wood-paneled, a few worn posters hanging on them. The door to the bathroom is open, and you can see the shower stall, but not much else. 

When you and Hunter were left stranded on this planet, you hadn’t worried. There was a safe house here, after all, one from your days before you became the squad’s medic. Hunter was in no shape to help you out, and with the Marauder making an emergency landing on the other side of the planet… well, it was safer to split up. This safe house had been the closest one, so you did the smart thing. You went there.

Except, this is not the safe house you remembered.

You remember it being big. Not huge, but certainly large enough for a couple people to crash in until rescue came. Certainly not a tiny, one room shack with one bed. You don't even know if that bed is big enough for both you and Hunter.

Hunter props his arm up on the doorframe, peering in over your shoulder, but he doesn't have much to add to your statement. He looks into the room, then back down at you. He doesn’t say anything, which only makes the situation more uncomfortable. You know you have to go in, but…

You don’t move, even though Hunter is standing behind you, blocking your way out. The two of you have been out here for several minutes now in the cold, just staring at the one tiny bed inside the cabin. There was no couch, or cot, or anything else. Just the single bed. Your mind was already racing with possibilities, most of them not so great.

Your cheeks are starting to hurt from clenching your jaw, and you finally break the silence.

"We're adults,” you state, firmly.

"We are,” Hunter says. He sounds uncertain, so you turn around to look at him.

"And we're both capable of sharing a bed. There's plenty of room,” you continue, nodding, as if confirming your words to yourself.

Hunter nods along, too, but the two of you just stand there, unmoving.

Finally, Hunter speaks up. "You... want to go in, or...?"

He lets his words trail off, and you know what he's getting at. You're the one holding us up.

"I'm going, I'm going!" you snap as you look back into the cabin, but you're still not moving.

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"Because you haven't actually gone inside yet."

You whirl around and glare up at Hunter, but you can't find the words to respond, and your face is flushed. It's the cold, you tell yourself, refusing to admit that you're blushing. It's not the situation you're in, and it's not the idea of having to share a bed with Hunter, of all people.

It's the cold.

He smiles, and you almost slap him, but his words stop you.

"I don't mind sharing a bed with you."

It's an honest admission, and the sincerity in his words takes you off guard.

"Really?" you ask, unable to hide the surprise in your voice.

"Really." 

Hunter's eyes meet yours and you're suddenly very aware of how close the two of you are standing. His breath ghosts across your cheeks, a cloud of mist from the cold. You feel warmth bloom in your chest. 

"If you're okay with it,” he adds. He's watching you closely now, waiting to see what your reaction is. He's giving you an out, and you're grateful for it. But the way his eyes are locked onto yours, the way his lips are pulled into a half smile, the way he seems to be holding his breath...

You shake your head, breaking the moment.

"Yeah. Yes. I'm fine. Let's go in," you blurt out, and step inside, leaving Hunter to shut the door behind the two of you.

Once inside, you kick off your boots and set your bag down. You glance around, taking in the familiar room. The fireplace, the bed, the old armchair. Everything was just as you remembered it. Mostly.

You turn back to look at Hunter. He’s checking the firewood box, and he gives you a thumbs up, confirming there was enough to last the night. You let out a breath and smile at him, and he smiles back.

Then he turns to the bed.

And you're reminded of the situation you're in.

“You should sit down,” you say, gesturing towards the bed. “I need to take a look at that gash on your head."

He nods and does as he's told, sitting on the edge of the bed, and you sit beside him, careful to keep some distance between the two of you.

You take his chin in your hand and turn his head, getting a better look at the cut above his eye. It’s not that bad, thankfully. Bacta should heal it, and he wouldn't need any stitches, but the blood has dried and crusted around the wound. It's not going to be fun to clean.

“I should have done this earlier,” you mutter to yourself, your eyes scanning his face. You tilt his head from side to side, looking for any other signs of damage, but the rest of his face is free of cuts and bruises. Just a bit dirty, but nothing a little water won’t fix.

"It's fine," Hunter says quietly. There's no irritation in his voice, no indication that he's bothered by you fussing over him. In fact, he seems content to sit still while you finish examining him. He's not squirming away or trying to talk you out of doing this. If anything, he seems at ease.

 "I think you had more important things to do. Like keeping me conscious,” he continues. You pause and look down at him, and his dark eyes are fixed on you. You can't read his expression, but the corner of his mouth is curled up in a soft smile. It's an encouraging look, and you take a breath before continuing.

"I still shouldn't have forgotten.” You let go of him and stand to pull out an alcohol wipe from your bag. “I can't believe I didn't think about that, we've been walking for so long... Why didn't you tell me? Were you trying to be cool and pretend it didn't hurt or something?”

He scoffs and shakes his head. "Yeah. Something like that."

"Hunter," you chastise as you move to stand in front of him. His legs widen on instinct, making room for you between them, and you step closer until your thighs are nearly brushing his. "Don't be a martyr. It's not going to help anyone."

"Okay, okay," he holds his hands up, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "You got me. I wanted to show off for you."

"You already showed off,” you say, but you're smiling too. “You nearly concussed yourself in the process, so you've done enough impressing for the day."

You're not sure why you're being so playful with him, especially given the circumstances. You've never had a problem joking around with him before, but now, alone in this tiny cabin, it feels different. There's an undercurrent of something, and you're not sure what it is.

He doesn't respond to you, but he's still smiling. He tilts his head back a bit, giving you better access to the wound, and you take the hint. You rip open the wipe, and gently brush his hair away from the cut, and the smile fades. When you lean in closer to him, inspecting the wound, his hand brushes your hip. It's an innocent touch, the barest of contact before he pulls away, and you're sure it's an accident, but it still makes your breath hitch.

"Is it bad?" he asks, his voice quieter than it was a few seconds ago.

"No, no. It's just a cut. I think the swelling is starting to go down,” you say, your hand still in his hair. Your fingers are combing through his locks, smoothing the messy strands away from his forehead that his bandana normally keeps in place. Your thumb traces the curve of his temple, and he leans into your touch. It's an intimate gesture, but it feels right, and when you look down at him, his eyes are closed.

"That's good," he murmurs. His breath ghosts over your skin, the heat of it making goosebumps erupt along your arm.

"I'm gonna clean it, okay?"

Hunter nods, and the movement jostles you. His face is dangerously close to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and the tip of his nose touches your skin. The urge to shiver is strong, but you ignore it. This isn't the time or the place to be thinking about things like this. You have a job to do, and Hunter needs your help.

"Hold still," you say, and he hums an affirmative. You take a deep breath and focus on the task at hand. “This will sting.”

"I've had worse,” he says, but the breathlessness of his voice has you questioning his words.

"Yeah, yeah." 

You're careful with him as you clean the wound, gently swiping the cloth over his skin. Hunter’s nose scrunches up, and his eyes squeeze shut, and you can't help the smile that appears on your face. It’s cute, but you keep that thought to yourself.

"You're doing great."

He chuckles. "Thanks."

You work in silence for a few minutes. You can feel his eyes on you as you work, but he doesn't say anything, and neither do you. You're too focused on your task, but your mind keeps wandering back to how close you are, closer than you've ever been. 

You're hyper aware of every little thing. The way the cold air of the cabin is starting to warm up from the fire, the way the bed creaks every time you shift your weight. How Hunter is watching your every move, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress, and your body is leaning into his.

The closeness is unfamiliar and overwhelming, and it makes you want to squirm. Or maybe run.

But instead, you stand stock still, and try not to think about the warmth emanating from him. He's so much bigger than you, his whole body a solid, firm wall against you, and it's a comforting feeling. He's safe. It's okay to lean into him, you reason. It's okay. It's fine. It's normal.

You're doing a favor for a friend. A friend who used to be your commanding officer, but now he's not really that anymore, and things are changing between the two of you. Your feelings, especially, are changing. You're not sure when it happened, or how it did, but they're changing.

You pull away abruptly and toss the used wipe into the trash, turning away from him.

“That should be fine," you say, and your voice is higher than it was before. You clear your throat, and grab the bacta spray.

"Thanks," he says, and you turn back to face him, avoiding his eyes. You can feel the heat rise to your face, and you clear your throat, focusing on the cut above his eye. You take out the bacta spray and pump the nozzle a few times, the familiar hissing noise filling the air.

"Alright, this'll just take a minute. Let me know if it's too cold."

"It's fine."

You nearly roll your eyes. Of course it's fine. It's Hunter. Nothing ever bothers him. He's perfect.

You can’t remember a single time where he’s ever complained about something, so you believe him. You don’t expect him to react any differently now. 

You certainly don’t expect him to gasp the moment the spray hits his skin, his hands finding your hips and holding onto you. He’s tense, fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes. He's not pushing you away, though, and his hands stay where they are, his thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

"You good?" You stop spraying, and move to pull away, but he shakes his head.

"I'm alright. Keep going."

You swallow and do as he asks. He keeps his grip on your hips, loosening his hold every now and then, but the pain doesn't seem to bother him as much. After a minute, the bacta has sealed the cut, leaving behind a small pink scar. You put the spray away, and run your thumb along the mark, the skin smooth beneath your touch.

Hunter sighs, the sound low and content, his eyes fluttering closed. He leans into your hand, and you can't help the warmth that blooms in your chest.

"Better?" you ask, your voice soft.

"Yeah."

You continue to stroke his skin, and his grip tightens. You're not sure what to do next. Do you pull away? Do you ask him to move his hands? Do you stay here and enjoy this moment for as long as you can? 

Hunter’s eyes are still closed, and his head tilts toward your palm. Your heart is pounding, and you’re positive that he can hear it. He probably thinks you're an idiot. Here he is, injured, and you're practically swooning over him.

You should pull away. You should get up. You should make the distance between the two of you a little wider. But you're still standing in front of him, one hand on his face, the other resting on his shoulder. His are still holding onto your hips, and he hasn't moved them.

Hunter opens his eyes, and you’re struck by how dark they are, how they catch the light of the fire and glow amber. The shadows dance along his jawline, emphasizing the darkness of his tattoo. His lips are slightly parted, his gaze locked onto yours, and the tension is palpable. You don’t dare move. Not an inch. You wait for him to say something, anything.

He opens his mouth, and then closes it again. His brows furrow together, and his lips pull into a thin line.

The moment is shattered when the wind picks up outside, rattling the window.

You pull your hands away, and Hunter lets go of you so fast it’s as if you burned him. He clears his throat and stands, walking past you to check the window, and you watch him go. You take a deep breath and will yourself not to blush, turning away from him to pack up the rest of the med kit.

"I should, uh. I should probably get cleaned up,” Hunter says from across the room.

"Oh. Yeah, of course."

You busy yourself with the contents of your bag to avoid looking in his direction, and he disappears into the bathroom, the door shutting behind him.

You let out a shaky breath, and run a hand over your face. What the hell was that? You were being so ridiculous. Hunter was your friend, and nothing more. The fact that you were both alone together was making you act strangely, and you knew it.

He's probably uncomfortable. He's probably in there trying to figure out a way to politely tell you that you're acting weird and he's not interested in you like that. He's just being nice. That's all it is.

The thought makes you nauseous, and you try to push it out of your mind as you strip off your armor and pants, and then the suit you wear underneath. You're left in only your sports bra and compression shorts, and you shiver. It was freezing, and you weren't looking forward to sleeping without proper pajamas, or even a shirt.

There's not much you can do it about it now, though. It wasn't like you had packed your bag for an overnight stay. You were much more concerned about having the necessary supplies to keep the boys and Omega alive than having a change of clothes. You're kicking yourself for it now, though.

You rifle through your bag to find your toiletries and brush your teeth at the kitchen sink. You don't think about Hunter, or how good he smelled, or how warm his hands were, or the feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, or—

Stop it.

You splash some water onto your face and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart.

After a few minutes, you've managed to get yourself under control. You grab the blankets and pillow, and you spread them out over the bed. The sheets are worn and old but clean, and the blankets are thick, and you hope they'll be enough to keep the two of you warm. Hunter runs as hot as a furnace, anyway. You'll be fine.

You've finished laying out the blankets when the bathroom door opens. Hunter steps out, a cloud of steam following him, and he stops immediately, eyes wide. He's wearing the bottom half of his blacks, but his torso is bare, a towel slung over his shoulders. Water drips from his hair, and the few droplets the towel doesn’t catch run down his neck and chest, disappearing into the waistband of his blacks.

You force yourself to look away, and you're suddenly very interested in the blanket. You pick at a loose thread while your heart thuds loudly in your chest. He doesn't say anything. Neither do you. 

When you glance up, his eyes are still fixed on you, and then he blinks, seemingly snapping out of whatever thoughts were running through his head. Hunter gives you a small smile, the corner of his mouth lifting up, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks almost... sad. But the look disappears just as quickly as it came.

"Bathroom's free," he says, and there's a strain in his voice, as if he's trying to sound casual, and failing.

You nod. “Thanks.”

He walks over to the fire and adds a few logs, stoking the flames. They crackle and spit, and the smokey smell fills the cabin. You take the opportunity to duck into the bathroom as quick as possible and shut the door behind you. You lock it for good measure and lean against the wall, taking a few deep breaths.

Your eyes fall shut, and you try to center yourself. You're exhausted. This entire mission has been a disaster, both of you are barely dressed, and the two of you are sharing a bed. You just want to sleep, but your nerves are shot.

You strip out of your clothes and take a quick shower, letting the hot water relax your muscles. It does the job, but the feeling is short-lived, and the second you turn the water off, the stress returns.

You dry yourself off, and slip on the same shorts and bra you'd been wearing. There's not much else you can do, and you're too tired to care about it anymore. You're just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. It's one night. It's not the end of the world.

The mirror is fogged over, so you swipe your hand across the glass, revealing your reflection. You're not thrilled with the person looking back at you, and you scowl at your face. A few bruises and scrapes decorate your skin, and a thin, red line sits just below your ribs. You can't remember getting it, but it's nothing serious.

You comb through your wet hair, and after a few minutes, it's as good as it's going to get.

"Alright," you mutter, nodding to yourself with a sigh. "You can do this."

You open the door and walk into the bedroom. Hunter is sitting on the edge of the bed, his bandana in his hands. His hair is still drying, curling around his ears and the nape of his neck, and he hasn't put his shirt back on. He looks up at you and offers a weak smile, his fingers running along the faded material.

You return the smile, but it's not genuine. Your stomach is in knots, and your heart is racing, and the butterflies are back. You can't remember the last time you were this nervous.

You stand awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure what to do or say. You're both clearly not okay with this, and you hate it. You hate the tension that's settled over the two of you, the discomfort, the uncertainty. You should say something.

Hunter seems to come to the same conclusion, because he clears his throat and speaks up.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice low. He's studying you carefully, and you know he can hear the way your heartbeat has sped up at the question. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine," you answer a little too quickly. At his raised brow, you sigh. "I'm just... This is really weird, isn't it?”

"A bit," he admits, and the two of you chuckle awkwardly. He shifts his weight and looks down, his shoulders tense. “I can take the chair, if that would make you more comfortable."

You shake your head. "No, no, it's not that. It's just..." You trail off, unsure of what to say. You're embarrassed by the way your body is reacting, how it seems like the tiniest thing has you worked up, and Hunter doesn't need to know that.

"I can't ask you to do that. I'll take the chair."

Hunter stares at you, and his brows knit together. Your face flushes, and you look away, unable to meet his gaze.

"You’re not sleeping on the chair," he says firmly. He's using his sergeant voice, and his tone leaves no room for argument.

You frown. “Is that an order?”

He shakes his head, and his face falls. The stern look in his eyes softens, and he looks almost hurt. "Of course not. I just... I want to make sure you're comfortable.”

You're not sure how to respond. He's always been protective of you, just as he’s always been protective of everyone on the squad, and it makes sense that he'd be worried about your well-being. But this feels different.

He's still frowning, and you know he's upset with himself, as if he's done something wrong. It's a far cry from the way he'd teased you outside the cabin earlier, and his mood shift throws you for a loop. You don’t know what's happening, but the thought of upsetting him, or disappointing him, is not something you're willing to deal with.

You take a breath and force yourself to look him in the eye, and you take a guess. "Hunter, I'm not... I'm not scared of you, if that's what you're thinking."

The way his body sags at your words confirms your suspicions. "You’re not?"

"Of course not," you say, shaking your head. "I trust you. Completely. But... I'm still nervous, and I'm not sure why, and I'm sorry, I—"

"Hey," Hunter interrupts, and he stands. He closes the distance between the two of you in a single stride, and you have to tilt your head back to look up at him. His face is serious, and you hold your breath as he places his hands on your shoulders. "It's okay."

"It is?" you ask, surprised by the gentleness in his voice.

He nods, his expression softening. "Yeah."

"I don't want things to be awkward between us, but I'm... I'm having a hard time being normal,” you confess. Your mouth twists into a grimace, and you huff, shaking your head. "This is dumb. I'm sorry. It's just a stupid bed. We can share it, it's not a big deal.”

Hunter sighs, and the sound makes you flinch. You've disappointed him. Of course you have. He's probably mad at you for being so dramatic. For making a big deal out of nothing. Why couldn't you just suck it up and get over it?

"This is my fault," he says, and his words are so quiet, you're not sure you heard him correctly. You tilt your head, and he looks away, dropping his hands from your shoulders.

"What?"

"It's my fault."

He takes a step back, putting some distance between the two of you, and you want nothing more than to reach out and close the gap again. You stay where you are, though, watching him.

"Hunter, I already told you, it's not that I'm scared, I'm just—"

"Not the bed thing." He shifts awkwardly and avoids looking at you, instead staring out the window. "Well, not entirely.”

You don't understand. "Then what is it?"

He's silent for a few moments, and the only sound is the wind outside. The fire has started to die down, the embers glowing brightly in the dim room. You can see his hands clench and unclench at his sides, and his jaw is set, as if he's trying to work something out.

He's nervous. It's such a strange sight, and one you've never seen on him before. Hunter doesn't get nervous. Hunter doesn't avoid people. Hunter is cool and calm and collected.

You've never seen him like this before, and you can’t stop yourself from trying to comfort him. You take a step forward and place a hand on his arm, and he stills. His eyes dart over to your face, and you can feel his gaze linger on the spot where your hand is touching his bare skin.

"Hunter," you say, softly, trying not to spook him. "Please. Tell me."

He sighs. "It's a lot. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Of course I do," you answer, and you take a step closer to him. You're standing toe to toe, and your free hand finds his other arm, so you're holding onto him.

You have no idea what's gotten into you, and the boldness of your actions should have you running for the hills, but there's something about the way his dark eyes are looking at you that makes you feel safe. It's the same feeling you get when he's in charge of a mission, or when he's fighting at your side. He's protecting you, and you have no reason to doubt him.

"Whatever it is, I want to know."

Hunter sighs again, and his eyes drop from yours. He's hesitating, and you can't help but wonder what could be bothering him. He's been acting strange ever since the two of you crashed on this planet, but now that you think about it, it started long before that. Ever since Saleucami, maybe. Maybe even earlier.

But then his gaze finds yours again, and he looks so vulnerable, your thoughts scatter.

"It's not... I shouldn't. Not while we're stranded like this, it's not fair to you. I don't want you to feel like you have to deal with this on top of everything else. If it was a different time, a different place, then maybe, but—"

You squeeze his arms, and he stops talking. "Hunter."

His breath catches in his throat, and you can see the way his throat bobs as he swallows, the way his brows knit together. His eyes are dark, and there's a tension in the air, one that has been building since the moment you entered the cabin.

"Tell me," you say, and your words are barely a whisper.

"I should have told you a long time ago. But I never had the chance, and it's not fair of me to tell you now, when things are complicated, but..."

"But what?"

"But I care about you."

"Hunter," you start, your grip tightening on his arms, "of course I know you care about me, you've always looked out for me —"

"No, no," he says, shaking his head. "I mean, I do care about you. A lot. But that's not what I meant."

He pauses, and his hands slide up to your wrists, and he gently removes your hands from his arms. You think he's going to push you away, but he doesn't. He holds onto you, his fingers wrapping around your forearms.

"Hunter?"

"I've... I've had feelings for you. For a while."

Your mouth goes dry, and all the air rushes out of your lungs. He's holding onto you as if he's afraid you'll run away, and in all honesty, it's a very real possibility.

"What?"

"I'm sorry." He says it like a confession, his voice hoarse and pained, and it makes your heart ache.

You shake your head. "You don't need to be sorry. I'm just... I'm confused."

"I was trying to keep them in check, but it's hard when we're together, and I can't seem to stop myself,” he says. “I didn't want to make things awkward for you, so I was trying to keep some distance. It was working, but then this whole mess happened, and I'm not sure how to keep doing this."

"Oh," is all you manage to say, and it's barely a whisper.

Hunter drops your hands and turns away, running a hand over his face. You can tell he's embarrassed, and the sight breaks your heart. You've never seen him so upset before, and it's killing you.

"It's not a big deal, I'll get over it, but it's been... difficult."

You're at a loss for words, but you know what he's talking about. It's been hard on you, too. You've wanted to reach out to him, to close the distance, but you've always held yourself back.

"Hunter."

He doesn't turn, so you step closer, and he freezes. You don't touch him, though, not yet.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He doesn't answer at first, and you're not sure he's going to. He takes a shaky breath, and turns his head, but he doesn't look at you.

"I didn't think you felt the same way,” he says. “You’ve never shown any interest, and I didn't want to force something onto you that you didn't want. I just thought I'd make it easier for you. Make the rejection less painful."

Your mouth drops open. "I haven't — what?"

"But now," he continues, ignoring your interruption. "I'm not sure I can keep going. It's been hell, and I know it's selfish, and I'm sorry."

"Wait," you say, and he finally looks at you. You can see the hurt in his eyes, the pain that's been building for who knows how long, and it shatters you. "You've really thought I didn't want you? This whole time?"

"I... Yeah?"

"Hunter," you breathe.

"It's not important."

"Yes, it is."

"You don't need to lie to make me feel better,” he says. "I know how things are."

"Hunter, I've been acting weird because I was worried that you would be able to hear my heartbeat, or sense how nervous I am, or smell the way my body reacts when I'm near you," you say in a rush. "That's why I was freaking out."

He frowns. "Because you don't like me?"

"No, because I do!"

The two of you stare at each other, neither saying a word. The fire crackles loudly in the silence between you, and you can feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You can't believe you've said it out loud, but it feels right, and when Hunter's lips part in surprise, you know you can't take it back.

"You do?"

You stare back in utter disbelief. How could he not know?

"Of course I do," you say. "I thought you knew."

He shakes his head, and takes another step forward.

"I didn't... I thought... You were keeping your distance, and I just assumed..." Hunter trails off, staring at you in bewilderment. He takes a step closer, and you tilt your head back, looking up at him. His eyes are wide, and his gaze roams over your face, as if he's seeing you for the first time. "Really?"

Your lips twitch, and you’re unable to stop the laugh that escapes you. You’re not sure if it’s the absurdity of the situation, or the shock of learning that Hunter had feelings for you, too, or if it was simply the tension that had been building since the moment the two of you had walked into the cabin, but the next thing you know, you're doubled over, laughing harder than you had in months. Your sides hurt and your vision is blurry and you can't catch your breath, and a minute later, Hunter joins in.

"I'm sorry," you gasp, wiping a tear from your eye. "I'm not laughing at you, I promise. It's just... it's kind of funny, isn't it?"

"A bit," he says, his chest shaking with laughter. His shoulders relax, and his face is split into a grin, and he looks so happy, your heart feels like it's going to burst.

“We really need to work on our communication skills," you say, and Hunter snorts.

"I think we'll be alright,” he says with a shrug. “We'll figure it out."

"Yeah," you agree. "I think so, too."

He's still smiling, and it’s infectious. The butterflies in your stomach have come alive, and your body is tingling, but for once, you don't worry about how he might be reacting to your nerves. There's nothing to hide. Nothing to be nervous about. Hunter likes you, too. He's liked you this whole time, and the thought makes your head spin.

"We should probably go to bed," you say, and it comes out a little breathless. You're still staring at him, and he's staring back. His smile falls, but he doesn't look away.

"Probably," he agrees.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other.

"It's been a long day," he adds, and you nod.

"Yeah."

Hunter’s gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes. His chest rises and falls, and you can see the muscles shift under his skin. He licks his lips, and swallows, his throat bobbing.

"Right," you say and take a step closer to him.

"Yeah," Hunter echoes, his voice soft. His hands find your waist, and the feeling of his calloused palms against your skin makes you shiver.

"Do you... Do you want to share the bed?" you ask, your hands finding their way up to his chest. He's so close, you can feel the warmth emanating from him, and your body leans into him, your chest flush against his.

"If you're okay with it," he murmurs.

"I'm okay with it," you whisper, and the words hang between you, heavy with intent.

You're not sure who moves first, but one second, Hunter is holding onto you, his hands tightening around your waist, and the next, his lips are pressed against yours, and the kiss steals the breath from your lungs.

You're not surprised at the hunger in his movements, but it still makes your head spin. His mouth is hot and eager, and he kisses you as if his life depends on it. Your fingers curl around the hair at the nape of his neck, and his arms wrap around your back, pulling you closer. The hard planes of his body press against yours, and you can't help the whimper that leaves you when his hands slide down to the curve of your ass. He squeezes, and you pull away, gasping.

“Too much?” he asks, and the way his voice rasps in your ear makes a shudder run through you.

"Not enough," you breathe, and the way his hands grip your hips tightly tells you he feels the same.

He kisses you again, and the passion between you has ignited into a desperate, frantic heat. He bites down on your bottom lip, and when you groan, his tongue darts out, slipping past your lips. The way he explores your mouth, his tongue curling around yours, makes your knees weak, and you're grateful for the solid wall of his chest, keeping you upright.

Hunter tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you melt into him. Your hands trail along his jawline, the rough stubble scratching your skin, and you sigh. He kisses you hungrily, and you try to give him as much as you can, hoping he knows how much you care about him, how much you've wanted this, and for how long.

You don't know how much time has passed, but the two of you are still kissing, and your legs are starting to grow tired. Hunter seems to sense this, and his hands slide down to your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin. He lifts you up, and you gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"That's better," he murmurs into your neck, and your fingers tangle into his hair as he starts kissing along your jaw. His lips find your throat, and he sucks the skin into his mouth, biting down softly.

"Hunter," you whimper, your head falling back. He nips at your neck, and your body rolls against him. Your core brushes against the firmness of his abdomen, and you gasp.

"Shit," he breathes.

"Sorry," you say, your face burning with embarrassment.

"Don't apologize," he growls. His fingers dig into your thighs, and he sounds as if the sound alone was enough to unravel him. You shiver at the thought. "I just... Fuck. I wasn't expecting you to react like that."

"You're a little distracting," you admit, and the grin on his face makes your stomach flip.

"Am I?"

"Don't act like you don't know," you scold him, tugging his hair, and he groans. His eyes darken, and the noise that escapes him goes straight to your core. You swallow, trying to regain some composure, but it's impossible. It’s even harder when he turns and walks over to the bed, laying you down on the mattress, his body hovering above yours.

"I'm glad it's not just me," he says. His hair falls into his eyes, and you brush it aside, letting your hand rest on his cheek.

“Definitely not just you," you whisper, and the way his eyes light up is worth the confession.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

He captures your lips again, and you hum again in appreciation. His hands move over the curves of your body, his fingers sliding over your hips, his palms gripping the flesh of your thighs. His touch is searing, and the heat of it makes your skin tingle.

Your own hands explore his chest, the muscle rippling under your touch, his skin soft and warm. You drag your nails down his abdomen, and his body rolls into yours, his hardness pressing into the apex of your thighs. Your back arches, and the groan that escapes him makes your blood boil. You need more, need him to touch you, need him to keep kissing you, and you try to tell him as much. But every time you try to speak, his lips are there, swallowing your words.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbles, his words slurring together, and it's not the most coherent thing you've ever heard, but the compliment makes your heart flutter, anyway. You kiss him harder, and he grunts in appreciation, his hands gripping your thighs.

You're not sure how much time passes, and the two of you are only spurred on by the noises the other makes. When you nip at his neck, he growls. When he squeezes your hips, you moan. He's driving you mad, and it's obvious that he's having the same problem.

You're panting, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and Hunter breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. He's breathing just as hard as you are, and he's shaking slightly, his eyes screwed shut. You place a hand on his shoulder, and his muscles tense under your touch.

"Are you okay?"

"Just give me a second," he says, and his voice is strained.

"What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer at first, and the silence stretches between the two of you.

"Hunter?"

"It's just... Fuck, I've been waiting for this for a while," he admits, and you can't stop the giggle that escapes you. He lifts his head and stares down at you, his eyes narrowing. "You're laughing?"

"I'm not laughing at you," you assure him, and he lets you pull his head back down. You kiss his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, and then his lips, and his mouth opens for you, his tongue swirling with yours. "It's just... I didn't know you wanted this."

"How could I not want this?" he asks. His mouth drops down to your neck, and his teeth scrape over the soft skin, his tongue licking a line up to your jaw. "You're incredible."

"You're incredible," you counter, and you can feel his grin against your neck.

"No, I'm serious," he says, and he stops kissing you. He lifts his head, and you frown. "You're beautiful, and smart, and kind, and you make me feel so many things. How could I not want this? I'd be stupid not to want you."

You swallow, and the emotions that wash over you threaten to overwhelm you. Hunter is looking at you with such affection, it's as if the feeling itself is enough to shatter him. He's never been very good with words, but his actions always spoke louder than any speech he could ever make.

"Hunter, I—"

"I'm sorry," he says. "I know I should have said something sooner. I'm not sure what I was thinking, honestly. I was worried about how it would affect the team. But now... Now that I've said it, and now that we're stranded here, and now that we've done this, and I've gotten a taste of you..."

"What do you mean?"

"I won't be able to go back."

Your stomach flutters.

"You want to be with me?" you ask. Your words are tentative, and your tone is careful, but there's a spark of hope, deep inside your heart, one that has been building ever since you first met Hunter. One that has been there for months, and maybe even longer.

"I do," he says. "And if we were anywhere else, I'd take you out for dinner or whatever the hell else you'd want. We could take our time, go as slow as you need, I don't care, but—“

"Hunter, yes. I want this."

He pauses.

"Yes?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

"You don't have to say that just because we're stranded. If you don't want to, it's okay."

"Hunter, please," you plead. "I've wanted this for so long, I can't... Please."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you say, nodding vigorously. Your legs tighten around his waist, and his hands slide up to your ribs, his thumbs rubbing circles along the underside of your breasts. You bite your lip and look up at him. "I want this. I want you."

Hunter lets out a shaky breath. "Thank the maker."

You giggle, and his eyes fall to your mouth. He kisses you again, his tongue pushing past your lips, and you lose yourself in him.

Your fingers comb through his hair, and his body presses down on top of yours. It's different than before. The passion is still there, the hunger and desperation are still present, but there's a tenderness behind his actions, one that wasn't there earlier. His lips are soft and gentle, and his hands roam over your body with a reverence you weren't expecting. You can feel the love in his touch, the affection he has for you, and it's enough to make your chest tighten.

The two of you trade languid kisses, his lips dragging against yours. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, and his weight is heavy on top of you, but it's a comfort. He's surrounding you, his body flush against yours, and your hearts are beating in sync. His length is pressed against you, his hips slowly rocking against your center, and each movement is sending a rush of heat through your core.

You can feel how wet you are, and you know Hunter can smell your arousal. It should be embarrassing, but when he growls against your mouth, you know that's not the case. You roll your hips into him, and his fingers dig into your sides. He's holding himself back, trying not to scare you, and the thought alone makes your heart swell.

"Hunter, please," you beg.

"What do you want?"

"Touch me."

His lips find your neck, and he presses a soft kiss there.

"How?"

"Just —" You groan when his hips roll into yours. "Anywhere. Everywhere."

He chuckles, and his breath is hot against your skin. "Where do you want me to touch you?"

You know what he's doing, and the realization makes you smile. He wants to hear you say it.

"You're mean," you mumble, and Hunter snorts. He bites the sensitive spot where your shoulder meets your neck, and your back arches, pushing your chest into his.

"I'm trying to be nice," he says, his voice rough, and he sucks the skin into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the area.

"Fuck, Hunter," you gasp, your nails scraping over his scalp. He groans, and his hands trail down your body, his fingers dipping under the waistband of your shorts.

"Tell me what you want," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your mind is racing, trying to come up with something, anything, but Hunter is relentless. His lips drag over your skin, and his tongue licks a stripe up your neck, and you can't think, not when his mouth is on you like this.

"Your hands," you breathe, and his fingers inch closer to your center. "Please, Hunter."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Fuck, yes."

"You want me to use my hands, mesh’la?"

"Please."

He doesn't need to be told twice.

Hunter sits up, pulling his hips away from yours. You whine in protest, but he's not gone long, because his fingers are slipping under the waistband of your shorts, and he's sliding them off along with your underwear.

You raise your hips to help him, and once they're gone, his hands find your bra. It takes some effort from the both of you to slide it up over your head, and you're not sure where it ends up, but you can't bring yourself to care. Not when he’s looking at you like that.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes roaming over your naked form. His voice is low, and the way he's staring at you makes a shudder run through you. You feel exposed, and you should feel self-conscious, but the awe in his expression makes it impossible. He's gazing at you with an openness and admiration you've never seen before, and it's making it difficult to breathe.

"You're wearing too much," you say, your tone soft.

"Can't argue with that," he replies, and he leans back. He stands, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching as he pulls his blacks down and off. You stare at him, unable to tear your eyes away.

He's beautiful. His broad shoulders are well defined, and his chest is solid and strong, the muscle rippling under his skin. There's a scattering of hair along his torso, and a trail that starts at his navel, and disappears beneath the waistband of his briefs. You’ve seen him without a shirt before, and it was hard enough then. But now that he's standing here, in front of you, you can't stop yourself from drinking in the sight of him. You bite your lip, your eyes trailing over his tattoo, and you hear Hunter groan.

"You keep doing that, and this is going to be over before it even starts."

"Sorry," you say, but you don't sound very apologetic.

"You're not."

"You're right, I'm not," you say, and the smile that lights up his face is so endearing, you have to force yourself to stay where you are and not reach out for him.

He steps closer to the bed, his eyes glued to your naked form. The way he's staring at you makes a fire burn in your stomach, and your breath catches in your throat when his hands slide over your thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh. His eyes find yours, and you can see the way his jaw is clenched, his teeth grinding together.

"Can I?"

"Yeah," you breathe, and the next thing you know, Hunter's hands are gripping the backs of your knees, and he's yanking your legs apart.

You yelp in surprise, and the noise dies in your throat, turning into a moan when he lowers his mouth to your dripping center.

"Oh, fuck."

"Kriff," Hunter mumbles, and the vibration of his voice against you makes your head fall back. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to catch your breath, but it's impossible, because Hunter's mouth is moving against you, his tongue dragging up your slit.

Your fingers find his hair, and he groans. His mouth is hot and eager, his movements hungry and desperate. He's licking and sucking and nipping at the most intimate parts of you, his tongue slipping past your folds. You can hear the noises he's making, the way his lips and tongue are smacking against you, the sounds he's pulling from your mouth, and it's driving you mad.

Hunter slides his hands under your ass, his palms grabbing handfuls of flesh. He pulls you into him, his face pressed into your center, and you let out a long, low moan, your fingers tugging at his hair.

"Up," he grunts, his mouth still working against you, and it takes you a second to realize what he's asking for. When you raise your hips, his hands move underneath you, and then he's lifting you up.

"What — oh, fuck."

His hands are gripping the tops of your thighs, and he's pulling you onto his face, his mouth opening and closing, his tongue darting out, pressing into your dripping cunt.

You let out a high pitched whine, your legs squeezing around his head, and you can feel him smile against you. He hums in approval, and the vibrations make you squirm. Your fingers twist into his hair, and you start rocking your hips, moving against his mouth.

"Fuck, Hunter."

He groans, and the noise sends a rush of heat through you. He sounds like he's enjoying this as much as you are, and the thought makes you shiver. His tongue swirls around your clit, and when his lips close over the swollen nub, his teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh, your head falls back. You're not sure what you're saying, the words coming out in a rush, a jumbled mess, but Hunter is eating it up.

"That's it," he breathes, and his tongue licks a stripe along your slit. He dips it into you, and a moan rips itself from your throat. He does it again, his tongue curling inside you, his lips closing around your folds, sucking the taste of you into his mouth.

"Please," you gasp, your voice hoarse. Your thighs are shaking, and your heart is racing, and you can't think, not when Hunter is between your legs like this. He's devouring you, his tongue moving against you frantically, as if the only thing that matters is getting you off.

"So good," he mumbles, and his words are slurred. "Taste so good."

"Hunter," you beg, tugging at his hair. The action makes him growl, and he doubles his efforts. He's sucking and licking and biting and kissing every inch of you, his tongue moving against you frantically. Each movement nudges his nose against your clit, and the stimulation has you falling apart.

"Hunter," you whimper. "I'm gonna—"

"Come on, sweetheart," he mumbles. His eyes are closed, and his cheeks are flushed, and his lips are red and slick with your arousal. He's a mess, and the sight makes your head spin. "Let go. I want to taste you."

He wraps his lips around your clit, his teeth scraping over the sensitive flesh, and you can't stop it. The fire in your belly explodes, and the tightness snaps, and your orgasm rushes through you, hot and white, a wave of heat that burns in your blood. Your thighs clamp down around Hunter's head, your toes curling, your back arching, and his name is ripped from your throat. You're dimly aware of your hands pulling his hair, and the noises that are leaving his mouth, but you can't focus on anything, not when he's making you feel this way.

Your muscles finally relax, and you're left trembling, your chest heaving. Hunter slows down, but his tongue doesn't stop, and the gentle strokes are too much for you to handle. You whine, trying to move away from him, but he keeps going, licking and sucking at the skin. You squirm, your body overly sensitive, and the movement is making you dizzy.

"Too much," you gasp, and finally, Hunter stops. He lifts his head, his hair falling into his eyes, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He stares at you, his eyes glazed over, and his gaze is enough to make you shiver. He looks absolutely wrecked.

"You taste incredible," he murmurs, and the compliment makes your core throb. He licks his lips, and his eyes flutter closed. You watch him, unable to look away.

"C'mere," you say, and he nods, crawling up the bed. His chest is flushed, and his abs flex with each movement, the muscle rippling. There's a sheen of sweat covering his skin, and his breathing is shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

He lays on top of you, his body heavy, and the weight is a comfort. Your legs wrap around his waist, and his face buries itself into your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

"You okay?" he asks, his words slurring together, and his arms wrap around your back. You nod, and a moment later, you feel him kiss your neck.

"Never been better," you sigh, your head falling back. He smiles against your skin, and his lips find your shoulder, the soft skin of your collarbone, and then the sensitive spot on your neck.

"That was... Wow," you mumble.

"Good wow, or bad wow?" he asks, his tone playful, and his voice is rough.

"Good wow. Really good wow."

Hunter chuckles, and the sound sends a thrill through you. He pulls back and grins at you, his teeth flashing in the darkness. “I aim to please."

"Mission accomplished," you murmur, and you press your lips to his. He responds eagerly, his mouth moving against yours, his tongue licking into you. You can taste yourself on him, and the thought makes you shiver. He kisses you deeply, his tongue moving slowly, as if he's savoring the taste of you.

"You're incredible," he breathes.

"I could say the same about you," you say, your hand trailing along his jawline. "I think you deserve a commendation for that performance. Maybe a medal, or something."

Hunter laughs, and his head dips back down to your neck. He kisses the skin softly, his lips barely brushing against you, and the action makes a shudder run through you. You're still trying to catch your breath, and your heart is beating wildly in your chest. You can't remember the last time you've felt like this, but it's definitely not a feeling you're ready to give up.

"Let me take care of you," you whisper, and his movements slow.

"I'm okay."

"I want to."

"Sweetheart, it's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Hunter."

"Really, it's okay," he insists.

"Do you not want me to touch you?" you ask, and the thought makes your stomach clench.

"It's not that," he says.

"Then what is it?"

He doesn't answer, and you tilt his head up, forcing him to look at you. His face is still flushed, and the longer you look at him, the more his cheeks turn pink.

"I, uh, finished. When you came," he says, and his voice is almost a whisper.

Your mouth drops open.

"Oh," you say, and he's looking anywhere but at you. You can feel his cock twitch against your leg, and his shoulders are tense, and you realize that the reason he's so nervous is because he's embarrassed.

"Hunter," you say, and he doesn't look at you.

"I'm sorry, I just — I couldn't help it. You were... Kriff, you're beautiful, and the sounds you were making, and the way you were grinding against my mouth, and when you came, I could smell you, and it was too much."

You bite back a smile.

"That's so hot," you whisper, and the way his body shudders against yours tells you he heard you.

"It is?"

"Of course," you say. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, and he practically melts against you. You can't stop yourself from smiling, and you try to hide it by kissing his cheek. This whole time, you'd been so focused on your own pleasure, and the fact that he was enjoying it, too, was enough to make you giddy. "That's incredibly hot."

"Really?"

"Really," you confirm. "Are you kidding? It's not every day someone tells me they got off on going down on me. I should probably write it down. Maybe take a holo, for posterity's sake."

Hunter snorts, and his head drops to your shoulder. He nuzzles the soft skin, his stubble tickling your neck, and he sighs. "I can't believe you."

"I can't believe you."

He chuckles, and his hips roll against yours. He's still hard, and when you rock into him, a groan escapes him. You're not sure if he's realized he's doing it, or if he's even aware of the fact that he's pressing his cock against you, his hips moving slowly, but he's dragging his length along your center, and the feeling of it is making your mind foggy.

"You still feel really good," you murmur, and the compliment makes him shiver. His fingers dig into your hips, his nails digging into the soft skin, and his lips find the spot on your neck where his scent is the strongest. He kisses the area, his mouth open, his tongue hot against you, and when he bites down, your legs squeeze around his waist.

"Hunter," you breathe, and he bites down harder. Your body arches into his, and you can feel his lips spread into a smile against your neck.

"Still so responsive," he murmurs, and his voice rumbles in your ear. You can't stop the whimper that leaves you, and your head falls back, your fingers sliding through his hair.

"Only for you," you tell him, and his hands move to your ass. He pulls your hips into his, his grip tight, and the action causes his clothed length to drag along your dripping center.

"Kriff," Hunter mutters, and his fingers curl into the soft flesh. He rocks his hips into yours, and a long, low moan slips past your lips. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Because of you," you mumble.

His mouth finds your jaw, and he peppers kisses along the soft skin, his hips never stopping their movements. Each roll has the tip of his length pressing into your clit, and each touch makes a small whine escape your lips. You can feel his teeth scraping along your jaw, and then his mouth is covering yours, his tongue licking into you, his teeth catching your bottom lip. He bites down, and a moan tumbles from your throat.

"Fuck, I want you," he mumbles against your mouth, his voice ragged. He's panting, his breathing shallow, and he sounds just as desperate as you feel.

"You can have me," you tell him, and the words seem to snap the last bit of his restraint.

Hunter's fingers dig into your hips, his grip almost bruising, and his lips crash into yours, his mouth open and eager. You kiss him back just as hard, and the two of you are frantic, as if the other one will disappear if you stop.

You reach down, your hands trailing along his torso. You trace the lines of his abs, and his muscles clench under your touch. You trail lower, your fingers dipping into the V of his pelvis, and then your hand is slipping under the waistband of his briefs.

"Fuck," he groans when you wrap your hand around his length. His hips jerk, and his mouth opens, and his breath comes out in a hiss. "Oh, kriff."

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah, it's — yes, fuck," he chokes, and you can't help but smile and tighten your hand. He's slick and warm, and he's leaking all over you. It's hard to gauge his size with only your hand, but you've been feeling him for a while now, and judging by the length and the girth, you're confident in saying he's well endowed. Your body clenches at the thought.

"You're so hard," you murmur, and the way his cock pulses in your palm tells you he likes hearing that.

"You make it difficult not to be," he grunts, his hips bucking, and the movement pushes his length further into your hand. You swipe your thumb over his tip, and his whole body twitches, a low whine escaping him.

"Can I suck your cock?" you ask, and Hunter groans, his head tipping back. His hips snap into your hand, his cock sliding through your fist, and he looks as if he's in pain. You don't think he's even listening to you. "Hunter, can I?"

"Yes, yeah, please," he gasps, his voice cracking.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from grinning, and you push at his chest, trying to get him to roll over. He doesn't seem to realize what you're doing, and it takes a few tries before he's finally getting the hint. He flops onto his back, his head resting on the pillow, and he looks up at you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed.

"Mesh'la," he breathes, and you lean forward, capturing his lips in a quick, searing kiss. You break away before he can respond, and you slide down the bed, hooking your fingers into his briefs and pulling them off. He lifts his hips to help you, and once his cock is free, he lets out a sigh.

You look at him, and your breath catches in your throat.

His body is beautiful, his tan skin glowing in the low light, and his length is thick and heavy, resting against his hip. It's the most erotic thing you've ever seen, and you can't tear your eyes away from him. He's hard and twitching, and the sight is enough to make your mouth water.

You crawl between his legs, and his breath hitches when your hand wraps around his length. You can see him swallowing, and his hands are gripping the sheets. He's watching you, his eyes glazed over and dark, and he's holding his breath, his chest unmoving.

"Breathe," you murmur, and he sucks in a breath. It's shaky, and the sound is loud in the silence of the room, but he's listening. You give him a reassuring smile, and his lips quirk.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time," you admit, and his eyes widen.

"Really?"

"Mmhmm. Is that weird?"

"No," he says, and his voice is strained. "Not weird. I've been thinking about it, too."

You bite your lip, and you stroke his length, your hand twisting around the shaft. A bead of precum leaks from his tip, and Hunter groans, his hips rising off the bed. Your tongue darts out to lick at the fluid, and he makes a strangled noise before his hand finds the back of your head. His fingers thread through your hair, and he pulls you up.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just... I have an idea."

"Yeah?"

"Do you trust me?"

You don't hesitate. "Yes."

"Okay," he says. "Turn around."

"Turn around?"

"Yeah. So you're facing the other way. And then you can sit on my face."

Your jaw drops, and a rush of heat spreads through your body. You know Hunter can see it on you, and his grin is wolfish.

"You did say you wanted to suck my cock," he points out. "I'm just helping."

You let out a laugh, and you can feel your cheeks heating. You nod, and the next thing you know, you're being picked up by the hips and spun around. You let out a yelp, surprised by his strength, but you let him position you as he sees fit. You're on your hands and knees above him, and you can feel his fingers digging into your hips.

"Comfortable?" he asks, and you can feel him breathing. His voice is coming from right behind you, and you nod.

"Yeah."

He places his hands on your hips and guides you down until you're hovering above his mouth. Your breathing is ragged and your pulse is racing, and you can't bring yourself to look down at him. The anticipation is overwhelming, and it's taking all of your self control not to squirm.

Hunter doesn't give you much time to adjust, and the next thing you know, his mouth is on you. You moan, and your head drops, your forehead resting on his pelvis. Your tongue drags over the base of his length, and you hear him groan.

You're not sure how you're going to focus on him, because Hunter's tongue is moving against you, his hands guiding your hips, pulling you down onto his mouth. You can feel his teeth and his lips and his tongue, and his stubble is scratching at the sensitive skin, and it's driving you crazy.

You drag your tongue along his length, and he moans against you. It's enough to encourage you, and you open your mouth, wrapping your lips around his tip. He lets out a shaky sigh, his hips lifting slightly, and the taste of him fills your mouth. You suck him in, taking him as far as you can, and when he hits the back of your throat, a long, low groan echoes through the room.

"Fuck," he breathes.

You can feel his hips shaking, and you know it's taking every ounce of his willpower not to thrust into your mouth. Instead, he pushes his tongue into you, and his thumbs are rubbing circles into your hips.

It takes some work, but the two of you manage to establish a rhythm. He licks and sucks and nips at you while you bob your head up and down his shaft, taking him as far into your mouth as possible. What you can't reach with your mouth, you wrap your hand around, twisting and pumping him. Each movement of your hand is met with a growl from below, and each swipe of his tongue has you moaning around his cock.

"F-fuck, Hunter," you mumble, his tip hitting the back of your throat, and you swallow around him. The action makes him twitch, and a moan tumbles from his mouth, vibrating against your cunt.

"You're incredible," he groans. "You take me so well."

You whine, and you're not sure how much longer you can do this. You're already sensitive from the first round, and Hunter is relentless. His mouth and his tongue are everywhere, and the stimulation is making your mind foggy.

"So good," he murmurs, and his hand slides down, his fingers dipping inside you. You can't hold back the moan that spills from you, and the vibrations make Hunter hiss. He adds a second finger, curling and twisting them, his pace faster and more frantic. His mouth closes over your clit, and his tongue swirls around the swollen bud, his lips sucking it into his mouth.

You moan, and his hips buck. The sudden movement makes him slide further down your throat, and you gag, tears filling your eyes.

"Fuck," he groans. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm sorry."

"M'fine," you slur, your mouth still around his cock, and you suck him harder, your tongue moving over his shaft. Hunter's fingers dig into your hips, his nails biting into the flesh, and his teeth are scraping along your cunt, his tongue moving in time with the movements of his hand.

You can feel the tightness building in your stomach, the familiar feeling of the coil snapping, and you're close, so close. Hunter can sense it, too, because his pace is relentless. He's working you furiously, his tongue moving at a feverish pace, and the way he's licking and sucking at you is enough to make you scream.

You let his cock fall from your mouth, and you press your face into his pelvis, his length rubbing against your cheek.

"Hunter, I'm gonna—"

"Let go, sweetheart," he rasps. "Let go. Come on my face."

The words alone are enough to push you over the edge, and a moment later, you're seeing stars. You let out a sob as your orgasm consumes you, and your legs are trembling, your muscles tightening. A rush of heat washes over you, and Hunter pulls his fingers away to wrap his arm around your waist, holding you steady as you come apart.

He doesn't stop, his tongue moving furiously against you, his mouth open and eager. Through the tears blurring your eyes, you see his cock pulsing, the tip red and swollen, and his thighs are shaking. You know he's close, and you want him to finish with you, so you take his length back into your mouth, sucking and licking him.

Hunter groans, and his tongue works frantically, his hips lifting off the bed. His grip on your waist is bruising, and he's moaning against you, his tongue lapping at your folds, and then he's coming undone, his cock pulsing and spurting hot and sticky into your mouth.

You swallow, and the act alone is enough to send another shudder through him. He's panting against you, his hips jerking, and his breathing is harsh, his chest heaving.

"Kriff," he mutters, his lips dragging against the soft skin of your thighs. "That was — wow."

You smile, and you place a kiss on the head of his length, licking the stray droplet of cum off his slit. Hunter whimpers, his hips lifting, and the sound is so soft and quiet, you can barely hear it.

"Fuck," he groans, and he's still twitching. You give him one last, long lick, and he hisses, his hands squeezing your hips. You sit up and turn around, straddling his hips, and when you see his face, a laugh bubbles up in your chest.

"You look like a mess," you say, and his eyes widen.

"I've just had the life sucked out of me. Give me a break."

"That was so good," you say, and you bend down to kiss him. His lips part, and his tongue finds yours, licking into you. He moans at the taste of himself on your lips, and his hands move to the small of your back. The two of you stay like that for a while, trading lazy kisses and soft touches, enjoying each other's presence. Eventually, Hunter breaks away, his nose brushing against yours.

"We should get some sleep," he says, and he sounds reluctant. "It's been a long day, and the others could be back anytime."

"Oh," you say, and your heart sinks. You'd forgotten the others would be returning in the morning, and that meant the night would be over. Hunter is right; the two of you needed rest. You weren't ready for it to end, though.

"We can talk about it in the morning," he says, his tone gentle, and his hand moves to stroke your hair.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," you say.

Hunter turns and places you on the bed, and you lie back and watch as he stands and pads naked first to your bag, then the bathroom. When he comes back, he's got a damp cloth, and he kneels on the bed next to you. You expect him to hand it to you so you can clean yourself up, but instead, he uses it to gently wipe you down. The action is so tender and intimate, it makes your heart ache.

"There," he says, a few moments later. He tosses the cloth towards the bathroom, and then he's back, pulling the covers over the both of you.

He turns on his side and pulls you into him, and you let him. You rest your head on his chest, and his arms wrap around your waist. He lets out a sigh, and his nose buries itself in your hair.

"This is nice," you mumble.

"Yeah, it is," Hunter agrees, and the two of you lapse into silence. You can feel your eyes growing heavy, and the steady rise and fall of his chest is comforting. His hand is moving up and down your spine, his fingers tracing patterns along the soft skin, and each touch is lulling you to sleep.

You're drifting, the sounds of the fire and Hunter's breathing fading away, when the sound of your datapad beeping brings you back. You roll over and grab it from the bedside table, squinting at the display.

"It's Tech," you say, and Hunter grunts, his eyes fluttering open. 

I can't reach Hunter. Are you two okay?

You type a quick reply. We're fine. Just fell asleep.

I need to talk to him. Please wake him up.

"He needs to talk to you," you say, and you can hear Hunter grumbling. He opens one eye, and his lip curls.

"Can't it wait?"

"Apparently not," you say, and Hunter groans.

"Fine," he says, and he snatches the datapad from your hand, his fingers flying across the keypad. A moment later, his mouth quirks up into a grin, and he holds out the screen so you can read the message.

The repairs to the engine are taking longer than I anticipated, Tech had written. I estimate we will be ready to leave in about 18 hours. I apologize for the inconvenience. Will try to keep you apprised of the situation.

Underneath it was Hunter's message. Take all the time you need. We're not going anywhere.

Your mouth drops open, and Hunter's smile is growing wider. You read the message again and grin. 

"We have 18 hours?" you ask, and you're unable to contain the excitement in your voice.

Hunter nods and sets the datapad back on the nightstand. You can't see his face clearly in the dark, but you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. "Guess so."

You let out a giggle and throw yourself at him, pushing him onto his back and straddling him. He lets out a huff of surprise, but his hands come to rest on your hips, and he squeezes them gently.

"Well then. Let's not waste them."

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms

[l0sercat]

NSFW alphabet with/ Logan Howlett

A/N: I have only seen Deadpool and Wolverine so I'm going off of that. I'm going to watch the X-Men movies later, but I can't wait any longer to write for him....So if this is ooc please forgive me 😭🙏🏻 Also MDNI!!!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He'll carry you to the bathroom and run the bath and let you do your thing. He'll grab a beer and nurse it and when you call for him, he goes and carry you back to the bedroom. He'll put on a movie and hold you in his arms 'til you'll fall asleep.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his hands because they fit so nicely on your throat while he's fucking you into your shared bed. He loves your thighs, he loves to be suffocated by them. He loves when he's eating you out and your perfect soft plush thighs squeeze around his head.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He loves to cum inside you. He loves the intimacy of it. He'll grab your hips and shoot his load deep inside you followed by a deep growl. But if you don't want him to cum inside he is okay with doing it anywhere you want him too!

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants you to sit on his face. Doesn't matter what you weigh. When he says sit he means sit. Don't even worry about "crushing" him he can handle it. If he needs to breathe he'll just lift you up for a sec and then set you back down.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Yeah he knows what he is doing. He'll have you on your third orgasm while he only cummed once. He just loves to watch you cum undone!!

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

Cowgirl. He'll be in control every second of it. He just loves how he gets to see every inch of your body while he thrust's up into you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He keeps it more serious unless something unexpected happens like your leg cramping because of a certain position he might chuckle, but that's about it.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

There is hair and you could call it a bush except that Logan actually keeps it's nice and clean. And he'll occasionally trim it just to tame it, because he doesn't want his pubic hair in your mouth while your gagging on his cock. Now the hair is dark and kinda curly but the hair isn't thick.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Depending on his mood he can be very loving and attentive to your needs. Or he can be rough and just shove your head into the mattress while he pounds into you from behind.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't masturbate often and if he did it's because he got hard and it won't go away. Also he hates when he cums and it gets all over his hand.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

#1 biter! He loves to bite you especially on your neck and thighs. He loves marking you because it shows everyone that your taken. He also loves tying you up or handcuffing you to the bed. There is just something about seeing you helpless and bound at his mercy that gets him going.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bedroom or Living room!! Something private so Wade can't try to get a sneak peak(he'll still find a way or press a ear against the door) Also he just doesn't want to have to worry about anyone seeing you naked and in a vulnerable position.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Hearing and smelling how much you need him. Hearing you beg for him to fuck with a little pout and then smelling how wet you are for him. It overwhelms his senses.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that could seriously hurt you. Example, he would never use his claws to write his name on you. He may bring them out to lightly trace over your skin, but that's it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He prefers to give but he loves to receive. He just loves the sounds that come out of your mouth when his tongue explores your insides.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends how he is feeling that day. If he was jealous from whatever that day your getting fucked hard and fast. If he's tired your getting fucked sloppy and slow.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He enjoys them from time to time. He prefers taking his time and ruining you, but quickies are nice when your horny and have to be somewhere soon.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He is willing to take risks here and there. Wanna fuck in a public bathroom sure. Want to top him you, can sure as hell try. Just don't ask him to have sex in the bar bathroom. Cause he will not be doing that, it's too fucking gross in there lol.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can last forever, joking. But he can last for hours. As long as your not tired and want to keep going he is not gonna stop. He will go day and night if able to keep up with him.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

I feel like he would own a pair of handcuffs and maybe a blindfold and bondage rope. I don't see him owning much lol. If you want to use other toys he will hesitate, and might agree to use them depending on what you suggest.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease until your crying and begging for him. He will kiss and lick away your precious tears. He loves you but seeing you begging for him is just so hot <3

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He is vocal to an extent. He will grunt, growl, curse, and let out the occasional moans. When he finishes in you he curses your name and then lets out a little growl.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Occasionally if your okay with it he'll let Wade join/watch but Logan is giving the instructions on what he can do. And if Wade is getting on his nerves he is kicking him out lol.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

I wanna say 7 inches long and thick so it stretches you out. The tip is a light red and it's circumcised. The base is a bit later than his skin. As I said earlier his pubic hair is dark and curly.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He isn't horny every second and doesn't think about sex often. But if your horny he's ready to go. Whenever you want to fuck he's almost always down to fuck.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As soon as your taken care of and comfortable in his arms and have fallen asleep, he'll finally close his eyes and sleep.

[daenysx]

Modern!aemond coming back from hard day at office so reader gives him a pamper day to get him back on his feet. I’m talking face masks face gels hair thingies all sorts to make him feel better and babied and he just LOVES IT and demands playfully for this every week

i believe aemond is the type of guy who has a skincare routine but just this once we'll ignore it. i hope you enjoy, thanks for requesting! (also i got a bit emotional instead of playful i'm sorry) <333

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, fluff

"you can lean back just a bit." you say quietly, your hands on his shoulders.

aemond does as you say, settling down on the tub you filled for him. it's much easier to access his long hair now. you wet his shiny blonde strands, the water makes them curling up on his shoulders.

he had a long day, he could barely stay on his feet when he got home. you like taking care of him when he's like this, tired and inevitably soft. you offered to wash his hair for him and he gladly accepted it with a pinch of pinkish color on his cheeks.

aemond has always liked the softness of baths and playing with bubbles since he was a kid. he draws shapes on his arms with foamy water now, with you looking at him from his shoulder. he turns his head to you, your eyes are gentle. it was a bit awkward at first being bare like this in front of you at the beginning of your relationship. the realization of getting used to it feels nice, though. you like every spot of his body. you let him know how much you like him. he trusts you.

you take his shampoo first, start rubbing it on his scalp. his hair is always flawless, you've never seen it messy except the mornings when he's restless enough in bed to put his head on the wrong side. you use a bit water to massage his scalp, fingertips pressing lightly towards his neck. aemond exhales deeply, he tilts his head back.

"does it feel good?" you ask.

"yes." he says quietly, the word flowing out of his lips. "so good."

you keep moving your fingers on his head, especially on the spots where you get a reaction from him. he tries to enjoy the moment of silence, your company has always been peaceful but now it feels like you belong to him, and only him. no other distraction, he has your full attention, and he loves the feeling.

your wrists get a bit tired from doing the same thing for a few minutes. aemond angles his head enough to help you rinse the shampoo. when his hair is clean, you reach for the conditioner. it needs to sit for two minutes so you decide to use the leftover foam from shampoo to rub his shoulders.

"you're so tense these days." you say, applying some gentle pressure on a tight muscle. "i wish you could relax a bit."

when he moves, a cracking sound leaves his neck. "i'm relaxed right now." he whispers. "relaxed when i'm with you."

you massage his shoulders until your wrists go numb. rinsing the conditioner, his hair is shiny and wet. aemond forces his eye to open to turn his head to the side. he kisses your hand on his shoulder, leans his face on it for a second.

"i can do the rest." he says. "thank you, sweetheart."

you kiss his shoulder nicely. "anytime."

leaving him alone in the bathroom to clean himself up, you go to kitchen. aemond doesn't like eating so late at night but he likes the herbal tea you got him recently. it helps him sleep better, he says. you prepare the tea for him and a cup of your favorite for yourself.

he looks much better when he meets you in the living room. you gesture him to lay on your lap until his tea gets a bit colder. he puts his head on your thighs.

"i got something for you." you say, showing him the skincare essentials you got him from your side of the bathroom shelf.

"what's that?" he asks, interested in the white bottle.

"that's an under eye cream for circles and puffiness." you show him the cream. "and this is a serum for hydration."

"and this?"

"it's a night cream for your face. moisturises really well."

"you'll apply them on my face?" he asks, his look is unpredictable.

"if you want, yes." you reply, with a smile. "they always help me with the tension on my face, you know, rubbing them with my fingers. i think you'll like the feeling."

"please." he says, giving you the bottle he has in his hand.

you apply the creams and the serum in an order you use for yourself. you're careful with aemond's scar, spreading the productions gently. he closes his eye, the lines on his forehead and the corners of his mouth get loose as you massage lightly on them. you kiss his forehead when you're done.

"your tea gets cold, my love." you whisper. he doesn't open his eye at first.

he reaches for your hand slowly, kisses the back of it and your palm. "no one's ever taken care of me like you do." he says. "thank you."

you don't want him to get upset. "i'm happy you let me take care of you. i'll always do that anytime you want. just like you take care of me."

"always." he promises. he accidentally falls asleep on your lap without drinking his tea.

[sevikaskittygf]

officer!els<3

author's note - meow i love this woman.

content warnings - black!coded!reader ig????, fluff, els i love u ellie williams pls handcuff me to ur bed and police-brutalize me! , text msgs from reader that are very me-coded! , mostly just based off every grumpy but cool cop i've seen in media, lots of notes from me i'm going insane I NEED HER!!!!! , there's a white man in a pic i put... you have been warned, smut/suggestive shit at the end!

-------------------------------------------------------

- def wanted to be a cop when she was a kid and then was a total fucking juvenile as a teen. (duh!)

- always loved the police officers who barely ever gave troubled kids a hard time. (this is coming from a troubled kid. acab all the way except for u guys. well, still acab, but y'all r cool!) would refuse to talk to anyone except her favorites. i fully believe that's one of the reasons she would go into this workforce.

- when she got approved to start training to be a cop, u were home with her favorite strand of weed and she gave u a look like, "🤨🤨" , "can't be doing that no more baby, i'm gonna be a cop." , "...stfu and take the first hit before you piss me off..." , she's wearing a SHIT-eating grin before she takes it. (don't ask me how she passes her drug-tests!) (probably gets jesse to do it or someone idk maybe joel if she's lucky!) (def not joel...)

- ADDING ONTO THIS!^^ : every single time you smoke when she can't she'll look so sad or just side-eye tf out of you... "really?" , "what do you want me to do ellie..." u stopped smoking around her when she couldn't...

- this woman is so intimidating but once those cop dogs come on the scene she's so cute<3 . she's so smiley and happy they love her AND SHE LOVES THEM. she definitely sent u a picture of her with the group of the babies and was like, "can we adopt them all pls i love them ):" . you guys adopted a rescue pup shortly after...

- whenever you're doing ANYTHING EVER she flashes her badge at you and says something so loser of her , "don't make me handcuff you..." or makes finger guns with the sounds and GOD I LOVE THIS WOMAN.

- speaking of badges, she always has her badge on her. ALWAYS. it is EMBARRASSING!

- when she got her first arrest she was so happy:3 . i FEEL like she took a picture with the fucker and everything and she looked so proud of herself. "good job baby now pls get to the station before that mf breaks out of those handcuffs he looks like he's gonna murder u..."

- this is a headcannon of mine (and canon so why am i saying hc maybe it's just bcs it's more in-depth in my head.) but she loves kids and whenever she sees a younger person at the station, she makes sure that they're ok and have everything they need.

- with that being said, she HATES the teens who don't have a valid reason to be such delinquents. lovable delinquents are her soft-spot but those... THOSE ONES😧.

- definitely is a kitten-saver-cop. hates getting the call but she responds every time.

- sends u this pic anytime u say something mildly threatening to her in text msgs:

suggestive/NSFW!

-------------------------------------------------------

- the day she got her uniform, you wanted to jump her bones. she came back home, poor girl was so tired and all you could think about is how good she looked in that shit.

- like i said... the badge is with her at all times... maybe this is too feral but i feel like she put IT in ur mouth and took a polaroid of it after u were done eating her out or SSAAAWWWWMMMMTHHHIIIIING. (pls let me wear ur badge baby i'm on my knees BEGGING YOU!)

- definitely joked about role-playing jailer/jailed and then it wasn't a joke anymore. y'all tried it once and couldn't stop laughing.

- has definitely used her handcuffs on u or vice versa. she gets so excited when u pull that shit out.

- ggggg...g-g-gu-....gggggggggguuuunnn ki-

- definitely has fucked u in the uniform. u two probs have had a quickie in the station bathroom on multiple occasions.

bonus round - police!els edit<3 :

[softspiderling]

rafe cutting up fruit in the kitchen from the valentine's day i love you prompts??

prompt: shoulders hunched over a chopping board, carefully dissecting fruit to deliver it to you in a bowl from the valentines "i love you" prompts

☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

The other side of the bed was cold when you woke up, which was odd. Usually, you had to be the one dragging Rafe out of the bed, when he didn't have any plans in the morning, always lamenting that he "needed his beauty rest". You checked your phone to see if he left you any messages that he had to run out, but nothing.

"Huh," you muttered to yourself, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and getting out of bed. You considered trying to call him as you made your way downstairs, pausing when you heard cluttering from the kitchen.

"... Rafe?"

The cluttering stopped and you heard Rafe curse under his breath, your lips curling up in a grin as you stood frozen on the stairs.

"You think you can give me like, five more minutes, baby?"

"Trying to hide your side piece?"

You could basically see Rafe rolling his eyes at you, and you bit back a laugh.

"Feeling like a real comedian today, huh?"

"I'm hilarious, actually," you deadpanned, padding towards the kitchen, only stopping when Rafe called out your name, almost pleading.

"Five minutes. "

Sighing softly, you tipped your head back in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Just- Go back to bed. I'll be right up. Five minutes, I swear."

"Fine," you sighed, turning back around. "Not a second longer, Cameron, you hear me?"

You headed back upstairs, stopping by the bathroom to brush your teeth and tame your hair, before you crawled back into bed, checking the time. Even though you had just threatened to return back downstairs as soon as the five minutes were up, you decided to be less of a menace for once, scrolling on the phone until you heard Rafe coming back upstairs. You were all ready to tease him as soon as he stepped into the bedroom, but your words died in your throat when he came in, back first, turning to face you with a breakfast tray in his hands.

"Rafe..." you said softly, eyes wide as he slowly placed the tray on the bed. Pancakes, fruit salad, coffee, bacon, even orange juice were spread out in front of you.

"Morning baby."

He kissed you on the cheek before sitting back, grinning brightly at you.

"You hungry?"

You only nodded dumbly, opening your mouth when he lifted a spoon full of fruit salad and you almost moaned when the tiny pieces of fruit hit your tongue.

"Oh my god, this is amazing."

"Touch of lemon juice and honey does wonders," Rafe said, eating a spoon himself, but you only narrowed your eyes at him.

"Did you do this yourself?"

Rafe gave you a look and you gave him one back, lifting the bowl of fruit salad, as if to make your point.

"You cannot seriously tell me that you cut all this fruit up yourself. And made pancakes."

"You sound surprised."

You snorted, putting the bowl back down. "Didn't you guys have a cook and everything in the prime time? Sue me for thinking you're helpless in the kitchen."

"Well, joke's on you for underestimating a Kook," he teased, handing you a coffee mug, which you sipped you accepted, holding it carefully. "I uh.... Used to make breakfast for my dad. Me and Sarah. He always thanked Sarah like she did it all on her own and never said a word to me, so after a while I just... Stopped. But I figured you'd be a little more grateful than him."

Holding your mug, you stared at Rafe, your heart almost breaking for the poor boy in front of you.

"Rafe..."

He looked up and huffed, shaking his head. "Stop looking at me like that. 's fine, I got you now, right?"

"Of course," you said with a big smile, picking up a strip of bacon with your hand, to which Rafe only pulled a face.

"God, you can never take the Pogue out of a girl, can you?"

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a/n: it was so easy to go down the route of rafe not knowing how to do anything in the kitchen except destroy it but i took a diff approach heheheh thanks anon for the request i hoped you liked it!! inbox is open my friends!! also tagging @sunderlust bc i can

[copinghex]

From his tenderness | T.S

Summary: After a long and tiring day, Tommy tucks his wife in bed. 🔞

A/N: Saturday smut hehe

Tommy knew she was in a bad mood the second she entered his office. The windows of their shared house were all closed to keep the cold out, but she still felt her hands shaking.

She plopped into the sofa and left out a sigh, covering her face with both hands.

"You didn't answer any of my texts," Tommy started, "why did you get a phone if you're not gonna use it?" 

"Tommy-" she complained, "I must've turned off the notifications, right? I'm sorry," 

He sized her up and cracked a weak smile, "You look fucking exhausted," 

"Tsk, thanks," she snorted.

"Rough day?" 

"Yeah," 

"I ordered dinner," 

"What?" 

"You didn't answer my texts so I ordered your favorite," Tommy explained and she grabbed her phone, glancing at the messages on the lockscreen.

"Hmm, I'm not hungry yet," she complained, "I just wanna go straight to bed,"

"Then go," he took a sip of his whiskey glass and went back to his work, "I'll join you later,"'

"Join me now," 

"I've work to do," 

"Don't you always? You had the whole day to finish this," she argued.

"I've got emails to send," 

"Oh? Managing to send emails without me?" she mocked, "They grow up so fast," 

"Weren't you going to bed?" Tommy gave her a scolding look.

Silence took over and she stood up, "I'll take a shower," she announced before leaving the office.

She made her way through the house checking her social media, dropping the phone on the bed when she got in the bedroom. Picking a set of clean clothes, she headed to the bathroom.

Taking her working clothes off felt the same as taking a burden off her back. She started the shower and waited until it got warm.

The water ran down her tense muscles, she quickly rubbed the soap on her skin and rinsed off. After washing her hair as well, she closed her eyes, enjoying the water on her back, however the incomplete chores of the day still clouded her mind.

With a deep frustrated sigh, she turned off the shower and grabbed her towel, perhaps a good night of sleep could achieve better success in relaxing her.

Back to the bedroom, she got dressed and plopped in bed, right in the middle, unbothered by her wet hair in the sheets or the fact Tommy might want to lay down later, he didn't put her first when she told him about her terrible day so she wouldn't put him first now either.

Except that, suddenly, a warm rough hand wrapped around her ankle. 

"Fuck!" she jumped, pulling her leg back, "What're you doing?" 

Tommy chuckled at how easily she got scared, they were the only people in the house, it couldn't be anyone else. 

"You're not gonna eat?" he asked, grabbing her leg and gently squeezing her calf muscles.

"No, I just want to sleep," she frowned, "what happened to your emails?" 

"I've set another priority," 

"Oh, really?" she scoffed and pulled her leg back again, "Or were you just struggling to edit a document?" 

"I decided to do something you often do for me,"

"You're gonna convert my docx files to pdf?" 

"Alright, fucking stop that," he demanded, "for someone who's so tired you're joking way too much," 

She smiled at his annoyed face, mentioning his lack of technological skills always made him defensive.

"So here's what you're gonna do," he held the hem of her shirt, "take these off, shut your pretty mouth and lay on your stomach,"

"Why?" she questioned.

"Do it," he gave her an assuring nod. 

Hesitantly, she took her clothes off, laying down on only underwear. She frowned when Tommy reached for something from the dressing table and straddled her thighs.

"What are you-"

"Just relax, alright? I dropped my paperwork for this," 

A shiver ran down her spine as Tommy spread lotion through her back. He pressured in between her shoulder blades, melting the tension underneath his palm just like she had done for him many times. 

A smirk showed on his face when he noticed the sleepy look on her face, he was certain that when he finished, she'd promptly fall asleep in his arms. 

His rough hands trailed the way down to her lower back, effortlessly soothing the knots on her muscles. Tommy took his time to extinguish any ounces of tension, handling her body with the mastery he cultivated in the time they were together.

At certain point, she felt liquid in his hands, loose as a ragdoll, but surprisingly, not asleep yet. Whatever was clouding her mind was resistant to enough to not vanish.

Gently, Tommy lifted her hips and pressed her back down, making her arch for him. His fingers brushed on her clothed pussy making her whine,

"Tommy-" she peeked at him, "I'm tired," 

"It works for me when I can't sleep," he argued and she chuckled.

"Not always, that's why I insist you take your meds," 

"Yeah," he admitted in defeated tone, "and what an insistent creature you are," 

"You are a creature," she struck back then smiled, "come here," 

Turning to face him, she tried to attach her lips to his neck, he quickly held her jaw though, not allowing her leave any marks on him.

"No, last time I had to keep up with John spitting three jokes per minute," 

"But Tom-" she tried to remove his hand.

"No, just let me take care of you, eh?" 

With a weak smile, she nodded, "Okay," 

Tommy pecked her lips and headed to the wardrobe, rummaging through the drawers until he found their lube bottle, "Tongue or fingers?" 

"You," 

"Alright," with a naughty smirk, he also got a condom and a tiny vibrator.

Once he was back in bed, she attached their lips together, her mind slipped away from any worries at the feeling of his gentle kiss. One of Tommy's hands rested on the top of her head while the other guided her legs around him.

At the same time, her hands explored the soft skin under his shirt, the lean muscles twitched and she smiled against his lips, she knew Tommy had many women before and yet, simple gentle touches made him weak.

When necessity demanded, they broke the kiss, breathing heavily with desire.

"I love you," she breathed out.

"You better," he weakly smiled, pampering kisses on the valley of her breasts.

Reaching for their little toy, Tommy turned it on and attached his lips to her neck. Her eyes closed at the exquisite combination, nibbles soothed by his gentle tongue, followed by wet kisses.

In feather-like movements, he teased her nipples with the vibrator. He wasn't particularly fond of the loud sound, but he was of the sweet moans he heard when it came to play.

She barely realized when they started to leave her lungs, Tommy couldn't waste the opportunity to point out, "Not so stressed now, eh?" 

"Hm-hmm," she denied.

"Does it feel good, love?" he whispered, lips brushing against her ear.

"Hm," finally opening her eyes, she pleaded, "want you, Tom," 

With a mix of scoff and laugh, Tommy put the vibrator away and laid down on the bed, "C'here," 

Taking her panties off, she placed one knee on each side of his head, at full display for him. She gripped on the headboard feeling his warm breath against her.

He affectionately stroked her hips at the same time kisses were placed on her inner thighs, a playful bite made her gasp with laughter which was quickly interrupted by the feeling of his warm mouth.

Tommy dragged his tongue through her wet folds, tasting her entry before moving to her swollen clit. Wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud, he switched between licking and gently sucking.

His strong hands pulled her further into his face and instinctively, her hips moved searching for more. As his name poured from her lips in weak moans, she moved forward trying to get him on her entry again, he obliged, teasing her needy hole before giving her pussy an appreciative kiss.

Suddenly, Tommy stopped, contanting himself with tracing her inner lips with feather-like touches.

"Tom?" she asked, confused and slightly frustrated with the lack of touch.

"It's alright," he soothed, "I got you," 

Pushing two fingers into her, he resumed his movements, this time the double pleasure got louder moans from her. His fingertips brushed the perfect spot on her insides and the coldness of his wedding ring added an even better touch, she felt herself soaking up his hand and chin.

The sweet tightness of an orgasm started to grow on her stomach, resting her cheek on the headboard, her hips moved in small circles trying to get all the pleasure her man provided.

She took a hand to Tommy's head, holding into his soft hair, the raspy groan he left out against her pussy was enough to send her over the edge. She couldn't control the urge of fucking his face through the overwhelming wave of pleasure.

He kept going until she started panting and finally feeling her eyelids heavy. Every ounce of stress or energy left her body and she moaned a spoiled sound, expressing how satisfied she was. Tommy should have stopped by then, he didn't.

Guiding her arms behind her back, he simply ordered her not to move, there was no need for physical restraint, her unquestionable obedience was enough. Pulling the hood of her clit, he left her completely exposed, flapping his tongue on her reddish tip.

"Tommy, please," she whined, "please, please please, it's sensitive," 

Tommy chuckled hearing her pathetic begging, dragging his tongue to her soaked entry and finishing his short torture sucking her lips together.

With two little smacks on her ass, he allowed her to get off his face. She moved down to his hips, comfortably sitting before laying down on his chest with her eyes closed.

"Want to sleep now?" he whispered.

"No," she quietly answered, "still want you," 

"Yeah? You're sleepy, I can tell," 

"Hmmm," she complained, "want you, Tom," 

"I know, love, but looks like you're already sleeping," 

"Hm," 

"When you wake up I'll give you what you want, alright?" 

She took a moment to considerate his offer, then finally agreed, "Hmm," 

Kissing her forehead, Tommy stroked her lower back until he heard low snores coming from her. With a small smile, he carefully got out of bed, covering her naked body with a blanket before leaving the room.

He still had paperwork to make, this time without worrying about her.

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 30/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, angst, fluff, Ben being a dick

Word Count: 6788

A/N: This is part 30 of “His only exception”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss against Ben's lips, the warmth of your affectionate gesture momentarily easing the tension between you. As you pulled back, you looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

"Hey, could we eat something?", you asked. "I'm starving. And… maybe we could go out? You know, just the two of us?".

You hoped that Ben would agree, knowing that he had never taken you out for a date before. It would be a nice change of pace, a chance to enjoy each other's company away from the chaos of everyday life.

Ben's gaze softened as he looked down at you, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Yeah, sure", he replied, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a sense of excitement at the prospect of a quiet dinner together.

As Ben looked at the dress you had laid out on the bed minutes later, a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "So, you mean that kind of going out?", he asked with a teasing tone, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he gestured towards your outfit.

You glanced at Ben from the bathroom, a hint of shyness in your expression as you spoke. "Well, until today, I didn't even got a proper date", you mumbled softly, feeling a pang of realization at the admission. "You sure knocked me up, but we never went on a date".

Ben chuckled at your comment, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Smooth, sweetheart", he murmured affectionately, shaking his head in amusement.

"Well, seems like I have to get all dressed up then", he added with a playful grin, walking over to his closet to pick out something suitable for your impromptu date.

Ben sat in the living room, clad in a crisp white dress shirt and snug black slacks. He idly waited for you, passing the time with another line of cocaine.

As you walked into the living room, the vibrant red dress hugging your curves and accentuating the tiny bump, Ben's eyes widened slightly at the sight of you. He choked on his whiskey, momentarily taken aback by your stunning appearance.

But when he saw your face drop at his reaction, his heart sank. "You don't like it… I knew it", you mumbled, your voice tinged with insecurity. You were well aware of Ben's past with various top models and breathtaking girls, and sometimes that knowledge made you feel insecure about your own appearance.

Ben quickly got up from his seat, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You're fucking kidding, right?", he muttered, his voice laced with urgency as he closed the distance between you.

Taking your hand, Ben spun you around slowly, his eyes roving over your figure appreciatively. "Look at you, turning heads everywhere you go. Fucking hot as always".

His words were tinged with a hint of teasing, but also genuine appreciation for your beauty.

You blushed again, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "But it's not quite flattering", you mumbled, pointing down to your little belly, your insecurity creeping in despite his praise.

Ben's eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand gently resting on your waist. "That's the hottest thing I've ever seen. You carrying our baby, looking absolutely stunning while doing it. Trust me, sweetheart, there's nothing more beautiful than that".

Ben smiled warmly, leaning down to kiss your forehead tenderly. "And now, let's go get some food into you", he murmured as he guided you towards the door.

As you sat at the table, taking in the quiet ambience of the upscale restaurant, you couldn't help but feel a sense of appreciation for Ben's thoughtfulness. His efforts to keep you safe and out of the spotlight meant a lot to you, even if it sometimes felt isolating.

Across from you, Ben's gaze softened as he watched you, a small smile playing on his lips. "I wanted us to have some privacy", he explained, his voice low and reassuring. "Just you and me tonight".

As Ben looked at you, his heart swelled with emotion, seeing your little belly more prominent as you sat at the table. It was a tangible reminder of the life growing inside you, a symbol of the future he had always hoped for but never dared to imagine could be his.

You caught his gaze and offered him a warm smile, unaware of the flood of emotions surging through his mind. For Ben, this moment was everything he had ever wanted—a beautiful woman, the promise of a family, and the chance to create a future together.

You noticed Ben's gaze actually was on your belly. Curiosity sparked in your eyes as you asked him, "So, are you hoping for a girl or a boy?".

You already knew his answer would likely be something typically macho.

Ben's lips curled into a playful smirk as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on your belly for a moment longer before meeting your eyes. "Well, obviously a boy", he replied with a chuckle, his tone carrying a hint of mock seriousness. "Gonna teach him how to throw a punch before he can even fucking walk".

You chuckled at his response, shaking your head in amusement. "Oh, great", you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. "Another Ben running around, breaking hearts and causing trouble. What could possibly go wrong with that?".

Ben raised an eyebrow. "Breaking hearts?", he repeated, his tone laced with mock innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart. I'm a perfect gentleman".

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Oh, of course", you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because perfect gentlemen are known for their charming arrogance and devilish smiles".

"Well, sweetheart", he began, leaning in closer, "if my charming arrogance and devilish smile are what make you come over and over again, then I must be doing something right".

Ben leaned back slightly, his smirk widening as he noticed the flush creeping up your neck. "Oh, I see I've hit the mark", he teased, his voice low and husky. "I must say, I do have a way with words, don't I?".

"You certainly have a way of making me blush", you admitted.

"And horny", he added with a wink and leaned closer to you across the table.

"Stop that", you whispered.

"Stop what?", he teased.

You rolled your eyes playfully, trying to maintain a sense of composure despite the way his intense gaze stirred something deep within you. "Stop being so… you", you replied.

Ben leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered huskily, "But being me is what you love, isn't it?".

You couldn't help but shiver at the sensation of his lips brushing against your skin, sending a delicious thrill down your spine. "Maybe", you teased back, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ben's lips curled into a playful smirk as he leaned back again, his eyes still locked with yours. "Admit it, you love every bit of it", his voice low and dripping with confidence.

Just then, the waitress arrived with your food, interrupting the charged moment between you and Ben. You exchanged a glance, both of you stifling a chuckle at the timing. As she set down the plates, Ben flashed the waitress a charming smile before turning his attention back to you.

You couldn't resist teasing Ben about his charming smile towards the waitress. "Oh, I see how it is", you teased playfully, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't know I had competition".

Ben flashed you a grin, his charm oozing effortlessly as he leaned back in his chair. "Competition? Please", he scoffed. "There's no contest when you're around, sweetheart".

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his cocky remark, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless. "Smooth talker", you quipped, shaking your head in mock exasperation.

After the two of you finished dinner, the waitress came back to clear your plates. "Would you like to see the dessert menu?", she asked in a cheerful tone.

Ben's response was laced with innuendo as he flashed her a suggestive grin. "Oh, sweetheart, I've already got dessert right here", he replied with a wink, gesturing towards you in a way that left little to the imagination.

Again your cheeks flushed a deep crimson as Ben's words registered, and you couldn't help but stammer out a response. "Uh, I think we're good, thanks", you managed to mumble, your embarrassment evident in your tone as you avoided the waitress's gaze.

"Are you blushing again, baby?", he teased, his tone laced with amusement as he enjoyed your flustered reaction. "Or are you just imagining dessert?".

"Oh, shut up now!", you chuckled, swatting at his arm lightly. "You're the one with the dirty mind".

"Can you blame me? With you sitting across from me looking like that, it's hard not to think about dessert".

The evening wore on and while the playful banter between you and Ben continued, punctuated by stolen glances and shared laughter. With each passing moment, you felt yourself falling more deeply for him, grateful for the unexpected twists and turns that had brought you together.

You stepped inside the house an hour later.

In the bathroom, you carefully removed your earrings, Ben leaned against the bathroom doorframe, watching you with a soft smile playing on his lips. The dim light cast gentle shadows across his face, accentuating the rugged contours of his features.

"Long day, huh?", he remarked, his voice low and soothing.

You nodded, a tired sigh escaping your lips. "Yeah".

Ben stepped closer, his presence comforting and reassuring. "Let me help you relax", he offered, his hands reaching out to gently massage your shoulders.

You leaned into his touch, grateful for his comforting presence. As his skilled fingers worked out the tension in your muscles, you couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over you.

His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as he whispered softly against your shoulder. "You look so fucking good in that dress", he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access as his hands trailed down your sides to your hips, his touch both gentle and possessive. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent tingles of anticipation coursing through your body, and you couldn't help but lean into his embrace, relishing the closeness between you.

As his lips continued to tease your neck, Ben's hand slipped under your dress and inside your panties from behind, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With a mischievous grin, he whispered teasingly against your skin, "You're so wet already, sweetheart. Did our little dinner date get you all worked up?".

His words, combined with his skillful touch, ignited a fire within you, and you could feel the heat building between your thighs as desire flooded your senses. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, unable to deny the effect he had on you.

Ben's gaze met yours in the mirror as he watched your reaction, a wicked grin spreading across his lips as he pushed two fingers inside you. He relished the sight of your flushed cheeks and the way your breath hitched in response to his touch. With a low chuckle, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You like that, don't you? You're still so responsive, sweetheart".

Your body shivered under his touch as his deep voice sent tingles down your spine. You knew all too well how easily he responded to you, always ready and eager. It was a testament to the desire he felt whenever he was near you. With a soft moan escaping your lips, you leaned back into him, relishing the feeling of his hardness against you.

With a swift motion, Ben scooped you up against his chest, his strength evident as he effortlessly held you close. As he withdrew his fingers, you couldn't help but whimper softly at the loss, only to gasp as he slipped them back into your panties from the front, his touch now more intimate and precise, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through your body.

Feeling his muscular arm around your ribcage, you leaned into his embrace, your knees growing weak as he softly bit your neck, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With each gentle nip, you felt your arousal building, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you surrendered to his touch.

His voice resonated against your skin as he groaned, "You have no idea what you do to me. Just the thought of you carrying my baby… fuck, it drives me insane".

You tilted your head back slightly, a soft moan escaping your lips as his words washed over you. “You’re such a fucking turn-on”, you whispered.

Ben's lips curled into a devilish grin as he heard your words, his desire fueling the fire burning between you. "And you love every minute of it".

With that, Ben bent you over, your hands gripping the sink, anticipation surged through you. You knew exactly what was about to come, and the thought sent shivers of excitement down your spine. Ben's reflection met yours in the mirror, his eyes smoldering with desire as he positioned himself behind you.

As Ben slipped up your dress more, revealing the soft curves of your backside, he wasted no time in freeing himself from his pants and boxers, letting them pool around his thighs.

"Let me know if I need to ease up", Ben murmured, his voice low and gravelly with desire as he pressed himself against you. The memory of your bruises lingered in his mind, fueling his determination to be careful with you this time.

Seeing your nod, Ben's hands gripping your hips. With a deep breath, he began to push into you, his movements slow and controlled, mindful of your comfort and pleasure.

As Ben eased into you, you couldn't help but grip the sink tighter, your knuckles turning white as pleasure surged through you, heightened by the sensitivity you had experienced since your pregnancy began.

"You good?". His words were filled with concern, his movements slow and deliberate as he gauged your response.

Your breath hitched as you managed to murmur, "Yeah", your voice barely audible amidst the haze of pleasure enveloping you

As Ben moved inside you, he felt a heady mix of desire and restraint. His movements were slow and steady, each one calculated to bring you pleasure without causing any discomfort. With each gentle push, he could feel the warmth of your body enveloping him.

Despite the restraint, there was an underlying intensity to his movements, a raw passion that simmered just below the surface. His hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding you as he set a rhythm that matched the beating of your heart. With each thrust, he felt a surge of pleasure coursing through him, mingling with the deep connection he felt with you.

As he moved, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight of you in the mirror.

Amidst your heavy breaths, you mumbled, "Fuck, you feel so damn good".

Ben, his own breath ragged with desire, tightened his grip on your hips, careful not to exert too much force. His veins stood out in stark relief against his skin, a testament to the effort of holding back, of restraining himself for your sake.

With every thrust, every touch, the intensity between you grew, building to a crescendo that threatened to consume you both in its fiery embrace.

As Ben's groans filled the air, he admitted breathlessly, "I won't last much long". His gaze remained fixed on your face through the mirror, drinking in every expression, every gasp of pleasure that crossed your lips.

The intensity of the moment threatened to overwhelm him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge with each passing second. But even as his body screamed for release, he held on, desperate to savor every moment of this intoxicating pleasure shared between you.

"Come for me, sweetheart", he urged. His movements became more deliberate, more focused on driving you to the peak of ecstasy before he allowed himself to follow.

He wanted nothing more than to witness the pleasure wash over you, to feel the tight clench of your body around him.

With a firm hand on your lower back, Ben adjusted your position slightly, angling himself to brush against your most sensitive spots with each thrust.

Your moans filled the room as Ben's expert adjustment sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With an almost immediate response, you felt yourself unraveling, pleasure washing over you in powerful waves as you reached the peak of ecstasy.

Ben's own arousal skyrocketed as he felt your body shudder with pleasure. With your climax igniting his own desire, he couldn't hold back any longer.

With a low growl, Ben thrust deeply into you, riding the wave of ecstasy as he found release. His grip on you tightened momentarily before he slowly eased off, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against your back.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Ben's breathing gradually slowed, his chest rising and falling heavily against your back. He remained pressed against you, his arms wrapped around your waist, savoring the closeness between you. With a contented sigh, he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, his heart still racing with the intensity of their shared passion.

Wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, you remained still, feeling his heartbeat against your back as his arms held you securely. The sensation of his lingering presence, coupled with the gentle rhythm of his breathing, enveloped you in a cocoon of intimacy.

Ben's voice was a soft murmur against your ear as he spoke, his breath warm against your skin. "You okay?", he whispered, his tone filled with concern as he pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder.

You nodded, feeling his warmth enveloping you. "Yeah", you murmured, a contented smile playing at your lips as you leaned back into his embrace.

As Ben pulled back slightly, his cum trickled out of you, leaving a warm sensation in its wake. Without hesitation, he reached for a nearby towel, gently cleaning you up with careful strokes, his touch both tender and intimate.

"You're such a mess", Ben chuckled softly, his voice filled with affection as he continued to clean you up. "But a beautiful mess".

"Well, you're the one who always wants to cum inside me", you teased, looking at him. "Can't blame me for the mess you make".

Ben chuckled, his hands still gently cleaning you up. "Can't help it when you feel so fucking good", he replied. "But I'll clean up my mess, don't you worry".

"You better", you teased, turning your head to press a soft kiss against his cheek. "I don't want to be dripping all over the place".

"You're such a handful", he murmured, his voice tinged with affection.

As Ben pulled up his pants, you let out a tired yawn, snuggling up to him and resting your head against his chest.

Ben gently lifted you into his arms, carrying you towards the bed and carefully laying you down. You felt utterly drained, every muscle in your body aching with exhaustion. With a tired sigh, you sat up slowly, peeling off your dress until you were completely naked. Pulling the blanket up to cover yourself, you settled back against the pillows, ready to drift off into a deep and restful sleep.

Ben also undressed with a tired sigh, slipping into bed beside you. He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around your waist as he planted a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

"Someone's become quite the cuddler", you teased with a yawn, earning a low growl from him in response. His fingers found their way to your ass, giving it a playful pinch as he replied, "Watch it, sweetheart".

You chuckled softly at his reaction, feeling his hand tracing down towards your belly. As his palm settled against your soft skin, you both fell silent, while he listening to the steady rhythm of your unborn child's heartbeat. It was a moment of peace and connection, one that made you cuddle even closer against Ben.

As he watched you sleep, Ben's mind wandered, contemplating the idea of relinquishing control of the supes to someone else. The thought of being able to spend every moment with you and the baby was enticing, but he quickly dismissed it. There was no one else he could trust to lead the supes like him, no one who could maintain order and keep everyone in line the way he could. Despite the challenges and responsibilities that came with his position, he knew it was where he belonged, even if it meant sacrificing some time with his growing family.

A few hours later, Ben stirred from his slumber, instantly alert as he saw you hurriedly darting towards the bathroom. Concern etched across his face, he tiredly followed you.

"Hey, hey", Ben murmured, crouching beside you as you leaned over the toilet, holding back your hair. "That's not normal". His voice was laced with concern as he gently rubbed your naked, cold back, feeling a pang of worry shoot through him.

For weeks, hardly a single day went by when you didn't vomit.

"Baby, you're fucking cold", Ben murmured, his concern growing as he felt the chill radiating from your trembling body.

Ben's touch was gentle yet firm as he pressed his palm against your hot forehead, his brows furrowing with worry as he watched over you.

With a sigh, he realized that your symptoms were worsening, and he couldn't shake off the worry gnawing at him. Tenderly, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his voice soft with concern as he murmured, "We need to get you to the doctor first thing in the morning".

As you nodded weakly, clinging onto him, Ben carefully guided you back into bed, wrapping his arms around you protectively. He held you close against him, feeling the weight of your weakness. You were barely awake, your body drained from the ordeal. All he could do was hold you close and provide comfort as you drifted back into sleep.

Throughout the night, Ben didn't sleep for a second. He kept a vigilant watch over you, listening for any irregularities in your breathing or heartbeat, hoping that it wasn't as serious as it seemed. However, by morning, you felt even worse. Ben could see it in your pale complexion and the exhaustion etched into every line of your face.

With great care, Ben helped you into the shower, supporting you as you washed away the night's discomfort. He then assisted you in getting dressed, his strong arms guiding you gently as you struggled with dizziness and weakness. It was clear that you needed his support now more than ever.

As Ben helped you into the shower and dressed you, you couldn't help but mumble apologies, your voice strained with exhaustion and frustration. "I'm so sorry", you repeated over and over again, the words tinged with self-deprecation. You hated feeling this vulnerable, confirming Ben's beliefs about the weakness of humans. Yet, without his support, you could barely hold yourself upright.

As Ben drove to Vought with you beside him, you continued to mumble apologies, your voice filled with remorse. "I'm sorry", you whispered again, your words laced with frustration.

Ben glanced at you, his expression a mix of concern and exasperation. "Stop apologizing!", he muttered, a hint of frustration in his tone. "Just focus on getting better".

You nodded weakly, feeling a pang of guilt for burdening him with your weakness.

Feeling the weight of your tears, Ben took a deep breath, trying to steady his fraying nerves. He knew he shouldn't let his frustration get the best of him, especially when you were already feeling so vulnerable.

"Hey", he said gently, reaching out to touch your hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. I'm just worried about you and the baby".

His words were softened with genuine concern as he tried to reassure you, despite his own fatigue and anxiety.

As your tears continued to fall, Ben's patience wore thin, his grip on the steering wheel tightening with frustration. He felt a surge of helplessness wash over him, unsure of how to comfort you when he was struggling to keep himself together.

"Come on", he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched as he navigated through traffic. "We'll get you checked out, see what's going on".

"I-I think… my belly hurts", you managed to choke out, your hand instinctively reaching for your abdomen as another wave of tears fell. "It hurts… really bad".

Your voice trembled with pain and fear, and you looked to Ben, hoping for some reassurance amidst the overwhelming discomfort.

Ben's eyes widened slightly in alarm as he pushed your hand aside, replacing it with his own as he gently pressed against your belly. It took a few moments, but eventually, he felt the faint thud of the baby's heartbeat beneath his palm. It wasn't as strong as it used to be, and a wave of panic washed over him.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened even further as he tried to keep his composure, his mind racing with worry and concern for both you and the baby.

Concern etched across your face, you turned to Ben, your voice trembling with fear and pain. "Ben, what's going on?", you choked out, the pain intensifying with each passing moment.

Ben withdrew his hand from your belly, a worried frown creasing his brow. Clearing his throat, he struggled to find the right words. "The heartbeat of the baby seems weaker, but I'm not a doctor", he mumbled softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Parking his car in the underground car park, he glanced at you, his expression tense with concern. "We need to get you checked out", he said firmly, his voice tinged with urgency. "Let's go".

Feeling weaker and more afraid than ever, you leaned into Ben's support as the elevator ascended to the doctor's floor. His arm around your hips steadied you as the doors opened, revealing a team of medical professionals already waiting for you.

Ben's grip tightened around you, a silent reassurance as he guided you toward the team. Despite his usual bravado, his worry was palpable, his concern for you and the baby etched into every line of his face.

Stepping onto the doctor's floor, you and Ben were greeted by a team already assembled and ready to assist. They attempted to calm the two of you, reassuring you that as long as you didn't bleed or pass out, everything was fine. Deep down, they knew it wasn't that simple, but they were wary of causing further panic.

Ben's jaw clenched as he listened to the doctors' words. He glanced at you, silently offering his support as the medical team began their examination.

In the examination room, you clung to Ben's hand tightly, seeking comfort in his presence. He stood steadfast by your side, his grip reassuring as you braced yourself for the ultrasound. The doctor began the procedure, the sound of the machine filling the room as they carefully examined your belly.

Ben's gaze never left you. He remained silent.

The doctor finished the ultrasound, studying the images carefully before stepping back. Meanwhile, the nurse took your blood pressure, her movements precise and efficient. As the doctor conferred with another nurse, they turned to you with a solemn expression.

"The heartbeat of the baby is a bit weak", the doctor explained gently, their voice filled with concern. "We need to monitor you closely and take some additional tests to understand what's happening".

The doctor turned to Ben, who was poised to ask more questions, and reassured him with a calm demeanor. "Right now, everything seems okay", he explained, his tone measured. "It's not perfect, but it's not life-threatening either. We'll continue to monitor (Y/N) closely and take the necessary steps to ensure both her and the baby's well-being".

Ben exhaled softly and looked down at you. As another, older nurse came with a hospital gown, he stepped back a little. As the nurse assisted you into the hospital gown, her eyes briefly flickered over the bruises scattered across your skin. Sensing the tension, she gently inquired, "Are those bruises recent?". Ben's jaw clenched, his gaze momentarily averted. Your cheeks flushed, feeling his discomfort.

You cleared your throat, trying to hide your embarrassment as you nodded slightly. "Um, yeah", you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "They're, uh, from… accidents".

The nurse furrowed her brow, clearly concerned. "Accidents?", she repeated, her tone gentle yet probing. "Are you sure everything is okay at home? You don't have to be afraid to tell us if something's wrong".

Ben's voice rose, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Do you honestly think I would lay a fucking finger on her?", he snapped, his tone sharp and defensive. "I'm not some abusive asshole. Those bruises… they're from…". He trailed off, realizing he couldn't bring himself to explain the true cause.

The nurse, accustomed to dealing with supes and their peculiarities, simply rolled her eyes at Ben's outburst. "Alright, alright, calm down", she said, her tone gentle but firm. "I've seen my fair share of unusual circumstances. You can tell me the truth, you know".

As she closed your gown gently, she gave Ben a knowing look, silently urging him to open up.

Ben took a deep breath, his frustration evident in his voice as he reluctantly began to explain. "Look, it's not what you think", he started, his tone a mix of defensiveness and vulnerability. "I didn't… I mean, I would never…". He struggled to find the right words, his jaw tense as he glanced at you, silently apologizing for the uncomfortable situation.

The nurse's tone softened slightly as she addressed Ben, her expression empathetic yet firm. "Look, I get it. You're a supe, and she's human. But you've got to be more careful", she said, her voice gentle yet authoritative. "We've seen it all before. It's not about cracking her open, it's about understanding your own strength and knowing when to hold back. It can be challenging, especially during sex, but you must learn-…".

“Okay, stop”, Ben interrupted, feeling completely uncomfortable.

"Well, but especially you, the great soldier boy, should know better", she continued, her voice tinged with a hint of reproach. "You've got to learn to control that strength of yours, especially when it comes to someone you seem to care about".

Ben's frustration was palpable as he took a deep breath, visibly struggling to contain his temper. You could see the anger burning in his eyes as he turned towards the nurse. "Can you give us a minute, please?", you asked her softly, sensing that Ben needed a moment to compose himself.

The nurse nodded understandingly, sensing the tension in the air. "Of course", she replied, giving you a reassuring smile before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone with Ben.

You reached out to touch Ben's arm, your voice soft but firm. "Ben, please", you pleaded, your eyes searching his for any sign of relenting. But he remained tense, his jaw clenched as he struggled to contain his anger.

Feeling the chill, you wrapped your arms around yourself, longing for warmth. Sensing your discomfort, Ben sat beside you, gently pulling you onto his lap. His strong arms enveloped you, offering solace and comfort. As you nestled against his chest, his warmth seeped into you, gradually dispelling the cold.

As the doctor returned, he began conducting tests on me without pulling me away from Ben's bedside. "Have you been resting well like I asked you to?", he inquired, concern etched in his voice.

You glanced at him, your mind momentarily distracted by memories of the passionate moments shared with Ben. "Um, yes, I've been trying to".

The doctor nodded, his attention shifting back to his examination. "Good, it's crucial for your health and the baby's", he advised, his tone gentle yet firm. As he administered the infusion and antibiotics, you couldn't help but wonder about the implications of being pregnant with a supe baby.

As the doctor finished the tests, he turned his attention to Ben. "And how do you feel about the V medication, Soldier Boy?", he inquired, his tone professional yet curious.

Ben's brows furrowed slightly in confusion before he replied, "V medication?".

You shifted uncomfortably in the bed.

The truth about the risks of my pregnancy and the potential need for the V medication weighed heavily on your mind, yet you never told Ben about it.

Sensing the tension in the room, the doctor exchanged a knowing glance with you, before turning back to Ben. "I'll give the two of you a moment", he said gently, his tone understanding.

As the doctor stepped out of the room, leaving you alone, Ben's gaze bore into yours, searching for answers. "What's that?", he asked.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Ben's gaze as his eyes bored into yours. The air in the room felt thick with tension as you struggled to find the words to explain.

"I… I didn't want to worry you", you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "But there are risks… with the pregnancy. More than we thought".

Ben's expression darkened, his jaw tensing with anger. "Risks? What kind of risks?", he demanded, his voice rising with each word.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for his reaction. "The doctor mentioned… that the only help might be an… an unforshed V medication", you confessed, stumbling over the words as you struggled to articulate the truth.

Ben's eyes widened in disbelief, his fists clenching at his sides. "And you didn't think I deserved to fucking know this?", he growled.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to him. "I'm sorry, Ben", you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "I just… I didn't know how to tell you".

Ben rubbed his beard, a sure sign of his frustration, before he turned around abruptly. His back muscles flexed, a silent testament to the intensity of his emotions. You knew he was beyond just angry; he was majorly pissed.

Silence hung heavy in the air as Ben paced back and forth, his footsteps echoing in the room. Each step seemed to reverberate with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension. You watched him, feeling a pang of guilt gnaw at your insides.

Finally, Ben stopped in front of the window, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His shoulders tensed, and you could sense the turmoil raging within him. It was as if a storm was brewing beneath the surface, ready to unleash its fury at any moment.

If you weren't feeling so dizzy and cold, you would have gone to him, but instead, you remained lying in the hospital bed, watching him with a heavy heart.

"You need to stay heads up with the supes who want to take you down and all that stuff… I just don't want to distract you".

Ben's eyes flashed with rage as your words reached his ears. Without a word, he stormed towards you, his steps echoing like thunder in the room. Before you could react, he grabbed the nightstand beside your bed and shoved it into the wall with such force that it shattered into pieces.

You recoiled in shock, the shards of wood and metal scattering across the floor around you. The intensity of Ben's anger left you speechless, a cold knot forming in the pit of your stomach as you realized the extent of his fury.

Your heart raced as you watched Ben's expression, recognizing the familiar signs of his temper but also sensing something darker beneath the surface. His gaze bore into you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, devoid of any trace of the love and warmth you were accustomed to.

Frozen in fear, you found yourself unable to utter a single word, the fear gripping your heart like a vice. All you could do was stare back at him, tears streaming down your heated cheeks.

As Ben saw the fear in your eyes and heard the rapid rhythm of your heart, a pained expression crossed his face. His clenched fists relaxed, and the anger in his eyes softened, replaced by a profound sense of remorse.

Ben's hand trembled as he reached out to cup your cheek, his heart heavy with regret. But as his fingertips grazed your skin, you flinched away, a reflex born of fear, and his touch fell short.

A strangled gasp escaped Ben's lips as he recoiled, the pain of rejection written across his face. "I'm sorry", he mumbled, "I didn't mean to…".

But his words trailed off, lost in the suffocating silence that hung between you.

Tears continued to flow down your cheeks.

"Fuck", Ben growled loudly, his voice echoing off the walls of the room, filled with frustration and self-loathing. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

The door slammed shut behind him with such force that a few screws flew out, punctuating his departure with a final, resounding crash. The sound reverberated in the empty room, a stark reminder of the turmoil that had unfolded within its walls.

Alone once more, you were left to grapple with the aftermath of Ben's outburst, the echoes of his anger still ringing in your ears.

The nurse returned, her expression filled with concern as she took in the scene before her. "Are you alright?", she asked, her voice gentle and careful, as if afraid to disturb the fragile balance of the moment.

You nodded weakly, attempting to compose yourself despite the tremors still coursing through your body. "I'm fine", you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, the words feeling foreign on your lips.

The nurse approached you slowly, her movements cautious as she checked your vitals and assessed your condition. Her touch was gentle.

She nurse pulled the blanket over your body, tucking you in with a tenderness that brought a lump to your throat. With a soft click of the remote, she dimmed the harsh hospital lights, casting the room in a gentle, soothing glow.

"He'll come back", the nurse mumbled reassuringly, her voice laced with empathy. "Probably with flowers or something. You need to rest, honey. Think about your baby".

You nodded weakly, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you.

But despite the nurse's comforting words, tears continued to fall unabated down your cheeks.

The nurse sighed heavily before quietly leaving the room, her presence fading into the silence that enveloped you once more. Alone with your thoughts, you couldn't shake the feeling of regret that gnawed at your insides.

You knew you should have told Ben about the risks and the medication. But the memory of his rage and the coldness in his stare still sent shivers down your spine.

As the medication kicked in, its sedative effects washing over you like a gentle tide, your eyelids grew heavy, and you succumbed to the sweet embrace of sleep. In the darkness of your dreams, the echoes of Ben's anger faded into the distance, replaced by a fleeting sense of peace.

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A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 31

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK

[misc-obeyme]

Hihi can I request a Barbatos and MC with severe depression? Like they have a hard time getting out of bed, showing, and Barbatos helps them if that's okay? Also please take care of yourself! I'm proud of you for taking a break!

Hi, anon! It's definitely okay! I did say in my writing update post that I'm accepting small drabble requests! And thank you, I'm definitely doing much better now! 💕

I used a lot of personal experience for this one, but I've been there and it's hard not to use those feelings when I write. Anyway, I hope it turned out okay!

Barbatos sees the mound of blanket slowly moving up and down with your breathing. It's a relief to see that minuscule movement - an indication that you're still holding on. He sits down on the edge of the bed, knowing that his weight moving the mattress will alert you to his presence. Even so, you don't stir.

He can't see you. The blankets cover most of you. The only thing visible is the top of your head, your hair greasy and in disarray. He knows you haven't showered in days. He knows you haven't left your bed in days except to go to the bathroom. You'll sneak into the kitchen in the night to eat. Sometimes you're awake and scrolling mindlessly through your D.D.D. But mostly you simply sleep. A space of oblivion where you don't have to feel anything when you're feeling everything far too much.

Barbatos reaches out a hand toward you. He hesitates. He knows you're aware of him, that you're awake in that moment, though keeping your eyes closed. He knows you don't want him to see you. He knows that it hurts you to see him. He knows that you don't want to look at him and see pity.

But Barbatos is a master at portraying no emotion aside from the one he very deliberately means to show. All you will see when you look at him is love. Because he will allow nothing else.

Barbatos settles his gloved hand on your back.

He waits.

Eventually you squirm beneath his touch, a subtle indication that you don't want him to be here.

"I will not leave until you speak to me," Barbatos says. He keeps his voice soft, but with a firmness that he hopes will impart to you how serious he is.

You mumble an incomprehensible acquiescence and he takes it.

"Tell me what you need," he says, keeping his tone even and neutral.

There is a long silence.

And then you sit up and look at him. The blanket falls from your shoulders. You have dark circles beneath your eyes and your stare is hollow, but for a tiny spark of surprise.

"You're not going to scold me?" you ask. Your voice is so ragged it nearly breaks his heart.

He reaches out to brush his fingers across your cheek, wishing for the first time that he wasn't wearing his gloves so he could feel you. "You have done nothing wrong, my love."

You bite your lip, hard. He wants to reach out, to pull you to him, to kiss you, to make you stop before you break the skin. But the tears that have formed in your eyes stop him. He's too cautious, still uncertain about what you need in this moment.

He learns his worries are unfounded the moment you collapse into his arms.

Barbatos holds you, rubbing gentle circles on your back as you pretend you aren't crying as hard as you are. You cling to him and the heaviness of your grip feels like solidity to him. Like you aren't slipping away, like you're still his, like maybe he can simply be whatever you need after all. It's all he wants.

So when you've cried yourself out, he asks you again. He asks you to tell him what you need. And you do. And he gives you whatever it is you ask for. It takes some time for you to find your way out of the labyrinth of sadness again. But Barbatos is there to guide you through every turn.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[sarathrwizard]

7 Day Camp Stay. Day: 2

day 2 is now here!

This day went better. Except the small worry in an unfamiliar place.

(Reminder, Donnie is me.)

Hope you enjoy day 2! under the cut!

7 Day Camp Stay

Day: 2

Donnie woke up in a panic. For a moment he thought his brothers had left him. He looked outside the tent and found them all getting ready for the day. Donnie sighed with a bit of relief. Guess it was just a dream. The wind was still going strong. When he sat up he was greeted with a tent fwapping his head. He crawled out of the tent and went over to the picnic table. He found some peanut butter and jelly and made himself a quick sandwich.

Now that Donnie had some energy. He decided to do some of the dishes that were left over from the other night. He filled a bucket with water and soap and started scrubbing away. Mikey came over and helped rins and dry the dishes. They sung together, singing musical numbers. Donnie tried his best to remember the lyrics so that Mikey could easily sing along. But he found it more difficult without the melody in the background.

Once he was done with the dishes, it was already lunch time. Turkey sandwiches, again. Did Mikey really not plan for any other lunch meals?

The day was rather slow. Nothing was really planned. No hike, no fishing, no playing around with a ball, nothing. Everyone seamed to be doing their own thing. Donnie hid back in his tent and dug out a book to read. It was called 'The Wingfeather Saga'. He didn't get very far though. He got about one or two chapters in till he was too annoyed by the constant wind nocking the tent over. He laid down and his head hit something rather hard compared to a pillow. He turned to find out what it was.

It was a sketch book and a pen with a purple ribbon around it. A gift? But it wasn't his birthday, or anywhere near it! He looked over and saw that there was another present with a blue ribbon on Leo's pillow. Donnie untide the purple ribbon. When he opened the sketchbook a note fell out.

'To Donnie. I got you guys some sketch books and pens! I was thinking you could use them to journal about your camping week! (Or anything else.) Love, Mikey.'

Donnie took a look at the front cover and it had a pink flamingo on it with a sloth riding on top. It made him chuckle. He spent some time fiddling around with the pen and sketch book for a while.

Soon, dinner was being made. Donnie ran off to the bathroom again. When he came back out from the restrooms, it was already getting dark. The trees shook in the breeze, making a flickering sound in waves. The wild dogs started barking again. He felt like it would be silly to run back to the camp. He knew those dogs where miles away! But he didn't want to walk either. That took so long! Man if only he had a scooter or something, that would work!

But soon enough, he came around the bend as the campsite came into view. It looked like Mikey got the fire burning good! Donnie was always surprised how easy it was for Mikey to start a fire. He heard Mikey singing something and clapping his hands to the beat.

"Go tell it on the mountain! Over the hills and everywhere! Go tell it on the mountain, that Jesus Christ is born!"

"I never thought of that one being a campfire song."

Donnie said as he approached the triplet.

"It's got a good rithem to it! I don't see why not!"

Mikey cheerfully smiled. He leaned over and stirred the chicken in the large pot. He then added some corn and beans. Pouring in some broth instantly made it a soup! They each sat around the fire and ate a bowl of it. All except Leo.

"Leo, why aren't you eating?"

"I'm not hunger yet, that's all!"

Leo got up from his chair.

"I think I'll take a quick shower at the shower house!"

Leo said as he grabbed his bag of clothes. Donnie watched as Leo started his very short hike of 2 blocks down the road. Which felt so much longer to Donnie when the sun had set. After they were done with their food, they set the dishes aside. Everyone else was getting ready for bed. Donnie threw a few sticks into the fire to keep the food warm.

Time had passed from 9:00 to 10:15. Leo still had not returned. Donnie couldn't help but worry a bit. He had heard the wild dogs barking very loudly about an hour ago. Donnie checked the soup to find all the water had boiled out. He sat back down and threw a few more sticks on the fire. He tapped his foot, waiting for Leo to come back.

Suddenly, a rustling sound was heard coming down the turn. Donnie assumed it was Leo, but part of him thought otherwise. He tensed up slightly, waiting to see what would come around the bend. And to his assumption, it was Leo. Coming down the road with a towel around his neck. Donnie let his shoulders loosen. Leo had on a pair of black shorts and a blue long sleeve shirt with the brightest yellow crocks you'v ever seen! Donnie wasn't sure about Leo's fashion sense, but he let it slide.

"Hey, Tello! What are you still doing up?"

"Waiting for you."

"... You didn't have to. You could have gone to bed already."

"I was keeping your food warm."

Donnie lifted the lid to show the evaporated soup. Leo cringed a little. What once was soup, was now as dry as a desert in comparison. Donnie started scooping it out into a bowl but he didn't hand it to Leo that way. He walked over to the picnic table and added a little water to it.

"Here, it has become soup again."

Donnie said as he held it out towards Leo.

Leo took the bowl and peaked inside. That looked better, more like soup with liquid and all that jaz.

"Thanks for keeping it warm."

Leo smiled. Donnie nodded in return. Leo took a few sips of the soup, then drew his eyes onto Donnie.

"Is your stomach feeling better from yesterday?"

"...How did you know about that?"

"My stomach wasn't feeling so great either. I was also sure it wasn't my stomach I was feeling."

Donnie blinked a couple times. "Twin-stinct" is what Leo called it. It was a ridiculous idea, that they could feel each other's pain or whatever. But if that wasn't true, then how did Leo know that he felt sick the other night? Donnie just sighed and drew his attention onto the fire.

"Yeah, it's better now."

"Good."

Leo finished his soup and ran off into the tent. Donnie had gone to the bathrooms one more time to brush his teeth. When he came back, Leo was already asleep. Donnie narrowed his eyes. Leo had his legs flopped all over Donnie's side of the tent. He picked Leo's legs up and shoved them over. Leo mumbled something that sounded like, "dfelbubelbludfedmbedfold-" Actually, never mind, It sounded like nothing. Donnie got into his sleeping bag and zipped it up over his head.

'5 more nights to go.'

Donnie thought to himself. He put his phone on silent and went to sleep.

________

Yay! That was day 2! It was a good day by my standers.

I hope you enjoyed it!

Lord bless you! ❤️

Last x Next

[goquokka00]

Bridge Over Troubled Lovers (Pt. 1)

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 |

Summary: You are the daughter of the Hwang family, a family infamous for their line of beauty products and even more so for their eldest son: Hyunjin. You're in the market for a husband, but sadly, you don't catch anyone's eye. Not until a fateful evening, where the eldest son of the Bahng family changes everything.

Pairing: Bangchan X Reader (F!)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Some Humor, Eventual Smut (MDNI) (I will give heavy emphasis on when the smut will occur, don't worry 😊)

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: Fuck you guys, writer's block is literally no joke 😫. I had this sitting in my drafts for fucking ever, trying to figure out how much to write without it getting boring and I hope that it didn't and I'm so sorry for not getting to it because I meant to have it out earlier but again, writer's block has been beating my ass like you wouldn't believe. So I hope this part makes up for it?? I hope.

Every day seemed to be the same for you. Wake up, get dressed, go down to the dining room for breakfast, and then walk the courtyard with Hyunjin until you got bored and went to the river. Then you'd go back for dinner, listen to your parents and Hyunjin talk about whatever, and then go to bed.

It was a process you'd gotten used to.

Today wasn't much different. You had woken up around dawn, the same time as usual. And as usual, your maid wasn't in to help you. You yawned and stretched, going to your bathroom and brushed your teeth and hair, deciding to leave it down for the day. You also made sure to wash your face and apply a little bit of makeup.

You had to look the part of a Hwang, after all. You really didn't want to have to deal with your father calling you a disgrace to the family. It...wasn't fun to deal with. Not to mention also having to be compared to your brother.

Once you were done in the bathroom, you walked to your closet, finding a dress that would be fitting for the day. You figured that a simple sundress would do. And so, you slipped it on before leaving the room.

Breakfast was pouched eggs and salmon. One of Hyunjin's favorites. Though it was delicious, it wasn't one of your tops. But you still sat down across from Hyunjin, bowing your head to the butler that brought you your food, and began to eat. You made sure to cut the salmon and eggs into small pieces, knowing that you had to be graceful while eating.

Your mother and father was also at the table, eating peacefully, but not making any conversation toward you. It was normal for them not to. You weren't nearly as interesting as your brother. But you still listened to the conversation they were having.

"There's going to be a party at the Han's Friday evening. And I'm assuming you plan to go?" Your father asked Hyunjin, who nodded with a smile. He took a sip of his tea, looking to the old man.

"I do, yes. Hopefully there will be someone there who pique my interest to court." Hyunjin replied.

Yeah, you forgot about that.

Both you and Hyunjin were at the age where you had to try and find someone to marry. And it was tradition for men to court women. Except, there were some problems for both of you.

For one, Hyunjin was always surrounded by women. He just couldn't catch a break, no matter how hard he tried. Not to mention that men also tended to come to him to talk about business opportunities. And while Hyunjin was grateful, he also wanted a chance to court a lady who fit his ideals.

Your problem was entirely different. Any man who approached you wanted nothing more than to talk with your brother. They'd introduce themselves, and then immediately ask if you could get your brother so they could talk business. And while you did so for them, you wished that they'd court. Mainly so you didn't have to stoop to the other women's attempts to court a man.

"I'm sure you'll find someone eventually, Hyunjin. But going to this party will definitely help your chances." Your mother told him, giving him a smile. Hyunjin nodded to her, setting his fork and knife on his empty plate.

"Yes. And I can't wait for it." Hyunjin responded, before standing up from the table. "I think I'm going to go and get a bit of work done. I'm sure I'll see you both around."

"Of course, Hyunjin."

"Work hard, dear."

With that, Hyunjin bowed, before walking around the table to you, gently squeezing your shoulder. It was his greeting to you. And an invite. An invite to join him in his study.

One you'd graciously take.

Once he was out of the room, it got quiet again. Your mother and father went back to eating, and you continued doing so. It was like you were invisible to them. But it was normal, it always has been.

It didn't take you very long to finish your breakfast, standing up and excusing yourself with a smile. And then, you left the table, walking up to Hyunjin's study. And once you reached the door, you gently knocked, opening it to poke your head through.

"Hyunjin, its me." You greeted. Hyunjin's nose was in papers, just like it always was. But it didn't take him long to lift his head up, giving you a smile.

"Hey! I was wondering how long it'd take for you to finish up!" Hyunjin smiled, standing up and walking over to you. You also smiled, watching Hyunjin come and place a hand on your head, gesturing for you to follow him. "Come on, let's go for a walk."

"But don't you have work?" You questioned, watching Hyunjin shrug.

"Yeah, but I've been cooped up for days trying to get all of this work sorted out. I need some fresh air." Hyunjin said nonchalantly. He walked right by you, gently nudging your shoulder. You rolled your eyes, following him.

"You always seem to need fresh air. Couldn't you just open a window?"

"I could, but then I wouldn't get to spend time with you." Hyunjin spoke, turning to give you a smile. You smiled back, the two of you heading out to the garden. And once you both got out there, Hyunjin was immediately greeted by the gardeners.

He bowed, having a small conversation with them, while you stayed by his side, a smile on your face as they spoke. They had no interest speaking with you, all they wanted was to know Hyunjin's opinion on how the flowers and the garden-work looked. Hyunjin humored them, of course, complimenting their work before excusing himself, wanting to continue his walk with you.

And once they were out of ear shot, he finally spoke to you.

"So, how has courting been going?" He asked, watching you roll your eyes. It caused him to laugh. "Not going well, then?"

"How could it be when everyone wishes to talk with you?" You replied, giving him a half smile.

"Is that so?"

"Very. Any man that graces me with their presence only wishes to speak business with the upcoming head of the Hwang Household." You told him, folding your hands in front of you as you both walked.

"I see. Then I suppose Cupid isn't on the side of the Hwangs."

"You haven't had much luck either then, I suppose?"

"How could I? Girls swarm me, men constantly talk business...I barely have time to go and court any girl I see any interest in."

"At least people wish to talk with you." You had a point, and Hyunjin knew that. He had an upper hand with people wanting to always talk with him, always gush over him. And yet, you never seemed to catch anyone's attention. Even when you attempted conversation with a man, they always excused themselves, never to talk with you again.

Always such a pain.

"I suppose you have a point, but you'll find someone someday. I know you will." Hyunjin smiled to you, patting your shoulder as you both walked. "You just have to keep attending parties. Like the one this Friday at the Han's."

"Please, I highly doubt that I'd be wanted there." You replied. "I'd just stand around, clinging to the wall like I always do. Either that or direct men to where you are."

"You don't know that." Hyunjin told you. He stopped walking, going in front of you and grabbed your shoulders, a soft smile on his face. "You could find the love of your life, your future husband that could take such good care of you and-"

"I don't think that's how it's going to play out."

"You never know unless you give it a try!" Hyunjin said to you. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure you'd go. "The only parties and dinner events I've ever seen you attend were the ones our own family hosted anyway. Going to somebody else's gathering could make a large difference."

"But don't we invite the Han's over all the time?" You asked, crossing your arms. "As well as most of the people that they usually invite?"

"Oh come on, name a few people that would be at that party that we'd also invite-"

"The Lee's, the Yang's, the Honeywood's, the King's, the Bridger's, the Porter's, the Dukesbury's, the Lethbridge's, the Kim's, the other Kim's, the-"

"Okay, I get it. We know a lot of the same people. But the Hans know so many more!" Hyunjin said. "After all, they're a toy business! They reach out so often to so many different families, there's bound to be new people for both of us to meet."

Again, he had a fair point, despite your curses you sent towards him. The Hans were a family in the children's toy business, and that meant they were constantly reaching out to any and every family in order to stay accurate and precise with the toys they made.

And that also meant that they were a good party to be social at, because it meant that you'd have more of an opportunity to actually talk to people.

Hyunjin let his words sink in, let you think for a moment, before letting out a sigh, tilting your head up so you'd look at him, giving you a warm smile so you'd actually consider his proposal.

"Just...give it a chance. For me?" Hyunjin asked, moving to look into your eyes. You looked back into his, trying your best to find any reason not to go.

You hated social events, because it was just as you said. You'd keep to the side, occasionally eating some of the hors d'oeuvres, maybe snag a glass of champagne or wine, and direct people to wherever your brother may be.

But at the same time, Hyunjin had a point too. You'd never find your future significant other if you didn't push your boundaries and be social. They weren't going to come find you if you didn't put yourself out there.

And so, with a sigh, you gave him an answer.

"Fine."

||

"You look absolutely lovely today, Channie!"

"Oh, thank you! You look lovely as well, Lady Sophie." Chan gave a smile as he looked to the ladies who had come to his estate's plaza.

He was just on his way out to go and visit the Han Household, knowing that the new head of the family and his good friend, Jisung, wanted to talk with him about some things. And besides, Chan could never say no to a meal that would be free.

Of course, the ladies who gathered in the plaza every morning just to see Chan were a bit in the way, like they always were. Chan just didn't have what it took to be mean to them.

He never did.

But he was thankful when the carriage arrived, the door opening to reveal his friend inside, waving to him.

"Chan! Good to see you again!" He said, Chan smiling at the sight of his friend. He looked to the girls, bowing to excuse himself, before going inside, shutting the door once he was seated.

"It's good to see you as well, Jisung. How has your family been?" Chan asked, Han giving him a smile.

"Oh, we've been doing amazing! Our profits have gone up by 10% in the last month, and we have the Hwang family to thank for it." Jisung said, feeling the horses pull at the carriage, taking them back to his own home. "Their upcoming head, Hyunjin, came up with the idea to make teddy bears with satin cloth to help prevent skin issues. And they've been working like a charm!"

"The Hwangs, huh?" Chan had heard of that family. They were big into skin care and beauty products. From cheaper moisturizers to expensive blushes and foundations. And his sister loved their products with everything in her. Though, Chan couldn't see his family working with them.

How would you even make a business collaboration or a business partnership between a family who makes skin care products and a family who makes guns and weapons for the military?

"Oh yeah. As thanks, I invited them to the party my father decided to host for his and my mother's anniversary." Jisung continued, before gasping and looking to Chan with excited eyes. "You should come, too! I could even introduce you to Hyunjin!"

"Oh, whoa whoa whoa, slow down!" Chan laughed a bit, knowing how Jisung got sometimes. Way too excited, acting before thinking. "As much as I'd love to attend, I have a lot of work to do as well."

"And? It's on Friday, and you don't do much on Fridays anyway. You write to people in the morning, and then you have the rest of the day off, don't you?"

"Well, kind of, but-"

"Then come!" Jisung said, moving next to Chan. He immediately wrapped an arm around Chan's shoulders, moving him back and forth, back and forth. "Besides, you've been meaning to court a girl for your wife, haven't you?"

Ugh, Chan sometimes hated that he was close friends with Jisung.

It meant that Jisung knew of Chan's struggles with finding a girl to court. Mainly because women constantly swarmed him. And because Chan was easy to fluster and shy away, it made him nervous to talk to those women that constantly surrounded him.

Sure, he was nice to them. How couldn't he? Breaking a women's heart was like breaking their soul, at least, that's what his father always told him. But he feared that it also fed their need to always hound him and swarm him and just...overwhelm him.

It...wasn't fun.

"Well, yeah...but it's not like you've been doing much better." Chan said, Jisung crossing his arms with a scoff.

"Pah-lease, I'll have you know that I recently just started courting the younger sister of Sir Minho Lee, and he supports it!"

"No way..."

"Yes way! And she's a kind-hearted soul, couldn't hurt a fly. And honestly, she's amazing in every way, shape, and form...I really lucked out." Jisung couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face as he talked about his significant other. Chan could definitely see that he loved her.

And he was...kind of jealous. He wanted a love like that.

"That's nice, I'm happy for you. Really." Chan said, smiling to his friend. Jisung smiled back, patting Chan's shoulder.

"Listen, with Hyunjin there, I bet you that he'll have all of the girls' attention. He's a pretty handsome guy, I mean, he could be a prince with his looks." Jisung said, crossing his arms. "It'd give you a pretty nice shot at talking to ladies at your own speed. And it'd also allow you to be social without running away from women, y'know?"

"I guess you have a point." Chan said, letting out a sigh.

It would be amazing if Chan could actually have space at a party for the first time in forever. Getting to talk to women at his own pace, getting to converse with men and get more contacts with other families besides the few he had gotten to know from his dad.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to find someone to love. Just like his friends had been able to.

"So then, what do you say?" Jisung asked, looking at Chan in the eyes, obviously hopeful. And with a sigh that faded into a smile, Chan responded.

"I don't see why not." Chan told Jisung. Jisung immediately smiled, getting all giddy with excitement at the idea of Chan going to meet someone at the party.

"Perfect! Absolutely perfect! I'll give you all of the details once we get back to my estate!" Jisung exclaimed, Chan laughing.

It was certainly going to be interesting. That was for absolute certain.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @kayleefriedchicken @freckleboilix @miss-daisy04 @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21

[tinybeetiny]

What's you're favorite scary move?: K.Y

Smut | 18+ | MDI

Ghostface!YeosangXafab!Reader

Bro... tell me why this took me so long to write because I either kept getting flustered or I cringe... I'm still trying to get used to writing smut so when I'm writing certain parts I just fold into myself. But I hope you enjoy this! It's a little long but I love Yeosang so much that I felt he deserved it! Also please read the warnings and skip if anything makes you uncomfortable

If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form

CW: some typical dumb scary movie MC decisions, slight non-con… like the TINIEST, knife mentioned a couple times, roleplay, unprotected sex(protection always), oral (m receiving), fingering, overstimulation, facefucking, degradation, cum eating from both???!!?!?, multiple orgasms (m&f), hair pulling, choking, multiple positions, squirting, if I missed something let me knowwwwww.

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

“Hey Sangie. I um I picked something up today. I figured we could maybe try something new?” The flush of red exploded on your cheeks as you held up a Ghostface mask. Yeosang looked at you indifferently not knowing what to say. "Try something new? As in?" He asked you raising an eyebrow. He already knew exactly what you were talking about, he wanted to hear you say it. "Well, you know... like in bed?" You say quietly the blush reddening even more if that was possible. You bit your lip shyly looking over at him, he simply stares back unreadable.

Sex with Yeosang was sweet and loving but you yearned for something more, something rough. You knew he had it in him, he just needed a little…. Coaxing. Little did you know he’s been wanting to spice things up too, he was just scared he’d scare you off. You're usually not this flustered when talking about things in the bedroom but something about this feels wrong in such a beautifully dirty way. The thought of his hands around your neck or in your hair as he's buried so deep- "Sweetheart?" You break out of your daze when you hear Yeosang calling you "Hm?" your eyes widen slightly in embarrassment "I said whatever you want to do I'll try" His smile always brought on cuteness aggression.

You set the stage with Yeosang a little hesitant, not wanting to hurt you but you assured him you'll be alright. "If you don't feel comfortable Yeo it's okay! I really don't want you to be uncomfortable" you say putting your hand in his. He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb as he smiles "It's okay sweetheart, as long as we have a safe word it'll be okay"

The apartment was empty except for you. Yeosang had an emergency at the studio, something getting ready for their comeback and the album needed some touch-ups. He said it could take a while and to not wait up for him. Even though you were the only one here you felt another presence, like someone was watching you. The anxiety getting the best of you 'Maybe I just need to destress with a nice hot shower' You think as you turn the TV off and head to the bathroom. Your body instantly relaxes under the steamy water. The shower only seemed to help for a couple seconds because as soon as you stepped out you heard the tv turn back on. You check your phone seeing no messages from Yeosang. Wrapping the towel tighter around your body you go out to investigate.

The living room is empty when you enter, the only sound coming from the show that was playing. “Yeosang?” You call out, no answer. Furrowing your brow you pick up the remote and turn off the tv. Your heart jumps when your phone suddenly rings but you don’t recognize the number. You contemplate picking it up, maybe Yeosang is in trouble or maybe it’s just a spam call “hello?” “Who is this?” A deep voice responded on the other line “umm… you called me weirdo” you say rolling your eyes “oh well my mistake, while I have you on the phone why don’t we talk for a bit hm?” There’s a little quirk in his voice “I have a boyfriend aaaaandd I’m hanging up now” “WAIT” the voice yells “you better stop before I go get him” you threaten hoping it works “oh how are you going to do that when he’s not even home” you freeze, how does he know that “he left a hour ago?” “Who are you?” You ask as your heart starts racing “turn around and find out”

You jerk around when you hear a crash coming from the bedroom “Aren’t you going to see what that was?” “Who the fuck are you?” You felt nauseous now, of course this would happen when Yeosang isn't here. You thought about running but what if he was standing outside. What if there was more than one. What if they do something to Yeo. Thinking it’s better to comply your legs shakily move towards the room. Empty. You see the lamp Wooyoung found who knows where shattered on the ground. "I told you to turn around and find out" Your whole body freezes when you hear the floor creak behind you and your heart feels like it’s going to leap out of your chest right now.

His movements are fast and before you can even turn around his arms are wrapped around you trapping you in place. You thrash around trying to escape his tight embrace but your movements still when you feel cold steel press against your neck. "Please don't hurt me. I'll do whatever you want" You please feeling tears gather in your eyes. You let out a few shaky breaths as he pulls you closer to his body "Anything?" He asks sounding a little excited and you can't help but squirm in his hold. 'He smells good, really good and he's very muscular' You stop your thoughts there, you shouldn't be thinking those thoughts right now. His one hand plays with the top of your towel, one pull and it could fall down completely. The other continues to hold the knife to your throat, not hard enough to draw any blood but enough for you to know it's there. "Please, I'll cooperate. Just don't kill me" You let a couple tears escape as you try to plead with him again but your heart drops when you hear him chuckle in your ear.

In one swift tug, your towel pools around your feet and the cold air of the apartment hits your skin causing you to shiver. You feel him grab your breast, his fingers kneading the tender flesh "Please stop" your voice shaky "Hmm? I thought you said you'd do anything" His voice gets impossibly deeper as he hums against your ear. As his hand travels down further you subconsciously wiggle your hips against him feeling him grow harder and harder. You gasp as you feel his finger hover over your clit, you didn't realize how turned on you were until a whine left your lips. You shut your eyes in embarrassment, you shouldn't be this wet from a psycho who breaks into people's homes and holds a knife to them. His finger slides between your folds and you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning, not wanting to give him that satisfaction "You're so wet, is this all for me?" You could hear the smirk in his voice "No. I'm always like this" you scoff which quickly turns into a gasp when his finger enters you “God you’re so fucking tight” he groans as he starts pumping his finger slowly. You let a breathy moan, shuddering at the pleasure “you’re sensitive too huh? You gonna be able to take me?” He taunts adding another finger and you let your head fall back on his shoulder with your mouth open, panting like a dog

The situation was disgusting and you couldn’t help but feed into it. It felt so wrong but oh so fucking right. How were only two of his fingers stretching you so good? The sound of just how wet you are makes it all the more shameful and he's basking in it, egging him on. The way he curls his fingers just right has you spiraling and you can feel yourself getting closer to your release "You're close, aren't you? Go ahead, cum all over my fingers" His deep whisper was enough to push you over the edge. His fingers continue to pump in and out working you through your orgasm, he feels so drunk on how your pretty lips look letting out such sweet moans that he needs to feel them around him.

He pushes you to your knees, his hand already working on getting his zipper undone. You look up and your eyes widen when you see a Ghostface mask, why does it make your thighs clench together? He pulls his jeans down along with his boxers and your mouth waters when you see his hard thick veiny cock slap his stomach. You can't stop your hand from reaching out and grabbing the base before bringing the tip to your mouth. You stick your tongue out giving it a little lick, loving the way he tastes. He throws his head back as you wrap your lips around his pretty pink tip moving your head lower. He grabs the back of your head moving you lower until you’re choking around him.

Tears stream down your face as his cock continues to invade your throat “Fuck, that’s it you little slut. You like having my cock down your throat?” He laughs at the sight of you struggling to take him all. Your fingernails pressed so deep into his thighs leaving semicircles indented in his delicate skin but he didn’t care he was too busy losing himself to the feeling of your throat constricting around him. “Oh fuck you’re gonna make me cum. Be a good girl and swallow it all for me yeah?” You nod looking at him through your tears and he lets out a string of curses as you feel ropes of cum shoot into your mouth. Your hand reaches up to massage his balls to try and get every last drop before his hand pulls your hair back. You open your mouth and stick your tongue to show him just how good you did “That’s it, such a good cum slut” he coos as he caresses your cheek "Are you gonna let me fuck you? You took my fingers so well, I want to see how you take my cock"

You climb onto the bed and he gives you a little push so you're lying on your back, looking up at him. He looks like one of those marble sculptures made by Michelangelo, every part hand-crafted "You like what you see?" aaaaaaannnddd moment ruined. He chuckles as he climbs on top of you, spreading your legs "I can't wait to feel how tightly you wrap around me" he says as you feel his tip poke at your entrance and can’t help but buck your hips getting impatient “Look at you. So needy for me.” He coos pushing the tip in marveling at the way stretch for him. Your mouth opens and closes when he starts to push further into, almost resembling a fish. “Oh my god your pussy is so tight, ugh I love the way you’re squeezing me” he started with slow deep thrust, hooking his arms under your thighs. The sound of skins slapping and the loud squelch of your wetness fills the room and it does nothing but turn you even more. “You’re so deep” your eyes roll as you try and push him but of course it only makes him go harder “take it, you took my fingers so well. Be a good a girl now will you?” He says as he lets your legs go taking your wrist in his hand pinning them above your head. It didn’t take long before you feel another orgasm approach “please, please, please” you don’t even know what you’re pleading for at this point “cum for me baby, cum all over my cock” he groans as he feels you contract around him. Your moans grow louder as he continues to fuck into you

You whine as you try and move away from him but he grabs your legs again holding you in place. “Oh what’s wrong love? Can’t you give me one more? Be a good little whore and give me one more” he teased moving his hips faster making all the air leave your chest “I can’t I can’t I can’t” you gasp out as your brain is turned to mush and all you can do is blubber out incoherent words. “Yes you can. Now hurry up so I can flip you over and watch your ass bounce against me” his voice strained and he places his arms next to your head, his thrusts getting deeper. You let out a loud whine as the burning sensation in your stomach builds feeling different from the others. “Wait, s-slow down” you panic trying to push him away but he only swats your hand away. You feel the snap and your eyes roll back as you gush all over him. He pauses momentarily to take in what happened, looking down to see his stomach glistening with your juices. You wimper when he pulls out, clenching around nothing feeling empty.

He turns you over and you lift your ass in the air, shaking it slightly. You let out a yelp when you feel stinging in one of your cheeks and he does the same to the other giving it a matching hand print. You moan while pushing your ass against him “oh you like that? You want me to do it again” he laughs when you weakly nod your head not turning to look at him “use your words sweetheart.” “Yes yes I want you to spank me again” you whine needily. The smacking sound dances off of the walls and your back arches from the contact. He suddenly slams his cock back into your sopping hole “I just fucked you how are you still so tight” he groans as his pelvis is pushed flushed with your ass, his tip reaching your cervix. His thrusts are brutal not giving you any time to adjust and you feel him deep in your stomach with the new angle. You don’t even attempt to hold your moans in anymore knowing the neighbors are going to complain the next day, maybe even look at you different but at this moment they didn’t even matter.

He grabs a fist full of your hair pulling you up to his body, fucking into you with inhuman speed. “come on baby, squirt for me again” he groans in your ear, his free hand grabs a hold of your throat squeezing just a enough “fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck” your moans getting higher in pitch and little white dots cloud your vision. He hand moves from your next to rub your clit when he feels you clenching around him, you let a small scream as you cum for the fourth time tonight. “I c-cant. ‘M too s-sensitive” you stutter out a whine while you try and catch your breath but his pace never falters “I’m almost there baby, just a little longer” he encourages, releasing your hair and grabbing your breast, pinching your nipple between his fingers. He breaths start to come out as needy pants and his hips lose their rhythm. “Ah fuck I’m gonna cum, you gonna let me cum in you? Let me fill you up?” “Yes yes yes please cum in me. Fill my pussy up please” you cry disjointedly, so drunk on the overstimulation. He let out the most attractive moan you’ve ever heard and you feel his hot cum spill into you. He releases his hold and you fall towards onto bed out of breath. His hands rest on your waist and slowly removes himself from you earning a little whine. He watches as his cum drip from your hole and he can’t help but lean down and lick it up. Your body convulses from the feeling and you lean forward trying to get away feeling way too overstimulated.

Yeosang takes the mask off and sets it on the nightstand before taking you into his arms and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips which you return right away. “Was I too rough?” He asks worried thinking it was too much for you “No Sangie. It was perfect. You were perfect” you reassure him, snuggling closer to him. “Did I do a good job?” He asks giving you wide eyes “You did amazing! You had my heart going a few times. But did you have to break the lamp?” you ask looking up at him. He chuckles “Wooyoung knew I hated that lamp, that’s why he gave it to you” he says shaking his head, you just hum in response. “By the way, whose number was that?” You ask remember it wasn’t saved in your phone “Oh. Jongho’s new number” you let out an oh making a mental note to save it later. “Let’s get you in the shower” he stand scooping you up “I just want to sleep” you mumble, your eyes getting droopy “I know sweetheart but I need to clean you up and change the sheet” he says giving your forehead a kiss “I love you” you smile closing your eyes “I love you more, now come on, let me get you washed up”

[hearts4werka]

Missing

Summary: it’s been six months since your sister went missing, everyone gave up on the investigation but you’re determined to find her no matter what but someone comes along the way… Genre: first person pov’s Stalker, missing person, thriller, horror, crime investigation, dark aesthetic, stalker romance, double pov Warnings: stalking, mentions of possible murder and torturous acts on children, mental health problems, dark fantasy dreams, exploration of the dark web, mention of an asshole boyfriend and possibly more that might trigger some readers. Read At Your Own Risk!

This is part 3 of the ‘Missing’ series!

7:00 AM

🤍 - Rosalla’s POV

The sun starts rising and the sun pools into my room through the windows as I wake up from my slumber with a weird feeling of soreness and bruised skin on the inner parts of my thighs.

Immediately ripping the duvet off the lower half of my body I slide down my pyjama pants to my mid-thighs, seeing several marks left behind on the inner skin of my thighs.

Inspecting it, confused on how the fuck did I get them? I don’t think I woke up in the middle of the night to go take a piss and even if did, I wouldn’t have bruises on my inner thighs.

Searching my mind for a presumable answer, I scout out one most reasonable answer that makes the most sense.

My stalker.

But what was he doing between my thighs?…

Realization hits me like a big bookshelf falling down, it’s obvious what he was doing there now. Immediately I pull my pyjama pants right back up and a weird feeling of my dark fantasies coming to life…

I’ve never confessed to something like this to anyone except for my now ex-boyfriend, one morning we were just cuddling in bed and I started to talk about a dream I had about a being chased down by a man in a mask and then being taken against my will.

That morning I had woken up all wet and horny so I asked my now ex-boyfriend if we wanted to try something like that, he looked at me and said I was fucked up in the head and proceeded to ignore me for two whole weeks which broke my heart.

Those two weeks I’ve spent at home eating ice-cream, watching romcoms and crying myself to sleep. Blaming myself for even having such dreams, such dark and twisted fantasies in the dark parts of my brain…

He was the one that broke up with me since I had felt seriously emotionally attachted to him, like he actually loved me but it all ended when he found out I have a stalker and he said he couldnt be seen with me, knowing theres some other man lurking and watching our every move somewhere in the dark shadows.

I finally get the strength to get out of bed and make my way over to the bathroom to take a refreshing morning shower. Thank god I have a day off today or I would not survive an hour at work.

Undressing myself I step into the shower, washing my spiraling thoughts taunting me in the dark depths of my mind down my body. Running a hand over my face I silence out all of the voices in my head all speaking at once and allow myself to finally relax and have a moment of peace.

| - 🍂 - |

7:47 AM

I’ve gotten out of the shower and thrown on some random clothes I found in my closet so I won’t sit in my pyjamas all day even though i was being close to doing that. A simple black tank top under an oversized off-shoulder gray hoodie with black sweatpants and mini uggs on my feets, my hair being put up lazily in a messy bun. ( outfit here )

I walk down the stairs and enter the kitchen, putting on some my hometown Spanish music on the speakers I start preparing some breakfast, my hips swaying from side to side each time I walk and when I'm standing they start to create circle, dancing to the music using my hips.

🖤 - Matthew’s POV

I watch her every move, every sway of her hips and move of her perfect body. She wont be able to escape me now ever since I've laid my eyes on her that one time, after I got home that day I did all of my research and found out as much as I could without her finding out.

Fuck, she sure knows how to move her hips.

Also I may or may not installed cameras in her house a few weeks after she became my newly found obsession but atleast I can keep an eye on her and protect my girl from any danger coming her way she may not know of. No one touches what’s mine.

Shes preparing breakfast, doing something normal in this moment and still manages to look even more gorgeous each time.

I sit back in my chair at my house, watching her from all different angles on numerous monitors on my wall from the cameras I have scarretered all over her house in those small and invisible spots she would never think to check.

A laptop is dismissently sitting on my lap with the dark web opened and the newly leaked video loading, I'm checking if the new victim isn't her missing sister by any chance and to hopefully track down the location of their new stay. I've been trying to catch those fuckers for some time now with my team and we've been close in the past but never close enough.

I'm moving my gaze from a goddess dancing in her kitchen to a gory, disgusting video of various of tortureous acts being preformend on children, why do I do this you may ask? I don't know it just sucked me into the dark layers of the world and once you go in, you can't get out.

| - 🍂 - |

10:25 AM

She’s already ate breakfast, had a dance party and singing competition with the voices in her head. Finally she’s now resting on the couch of her living room writing in a journal-like notebook with her cat Willow sleeping in her lap.

That journal holds some of her darkest secrets and I’ve somehow managed to get my hands on it one night, reading thought the different things she’s been through and establishing her ex-boyfriend is a total asshole and didn’t deserve her.

If I could I would teach him a goddamn lesson for treating her like the way he did and when I first found out I was close to actually bashing that motherfucker head with a brick but I kept myself under control and decided to leave it alone.

🤍 - Rosalla’s POV

I was just journaling in my notebook, it’s always felt therapeutic to me and helped me to find my peace or to drain my constantly spiralling thoughts onto paper so I don’t have to bottle them up inside of me.

My cat Willow is snuggly cuddled up on my lap, peacefully sleeping. I wish I could be so carefree with no worries on my head like her, maybe if I was a cat I wouldn’t constantly be burying myself in my thoughts?

As I try to relax, placing the journal down next to me the memories of me and my missing sister together flood back into my mind, clouding any other thought I might have had in there.

A single small tear swirls in my eye and falls down onto the delicate fur of my cat as I pet her back, smiling at the funny and wholesome memories we had together as tears start to prick my eyes.

I wish she was here with me.

authors note: I didn’t know how to end this, kinda ended on a sad note but I finally finished it and fed you my children, there’s more backstory here to go indeep with the characters pasts. Hope I didn’t make you wait long and hope you enjoyed this!

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Reblogs, likes are very much appreciated!

[jamneuromain]

Mean Daddy Pt.2

Logan Syverson x Reader (You)

Word Count: 1k

Warning: Mean!Sy, established relationship, pussy spanking, aftercare turns into foreplay(?), oral (implied), a whole lot of teasing, fluff.

Summary: Your mean daddy comes home ... and you're in for the night :]

A/N: For the record, I'm not sorry at all for the cliffhanger (and stretching this short fic into three parts...) @gummydummy19 :3

Find Part 1 here

This isn’t exactly what you had planned for tonight.

Well, technically you did plan for some spicy evening events, but you did not expect Sy to make changes to the timetable plan, and spend all afternoon and evening on your bed.

… eh, spending all day on you.

And the worst part is, you have passed out twice now, and except for bathroom breaks and snack breaks, Sy hasn’t stopped playing the game he invented, which has the name “How many times can you cum”.

Spoiler alert, you’ve both lost count, but that doesn’t stop him from playing.

The clock strikes nine, and you feel there’s not one good bone in your body.

Thankfully, it’s another snack break.

While munching on apple slices that Sy cut for you, you’ve turned on your laptop for a show called Family Feud. Basically, the show interviewed random 100 people on the street with some questions, and came back with the top six answers. Whichever team answers more, wins.

It’s less exciting, compared to the detective/murder ones you often enjoy, but this is what Sy needs, something light and funny, instead of the sound of gunshots that would make his body tense up.

“Young man,” the show host Steve Harvey asks, “Name something your girlfriend would do to your face.”

The shy boy on the screen covers his twitching lips with his fist, “Uh… I’m gonna say sit on it.”

The audience on the screen roars out laughter, while you can’t help but giggle simultaneously.

A light squeeze of your tummy dials your giggling down, having you remember the large beefcake wrapping around you with his thick arms and legs.

“C’mon, Sy, you can’t tell me that’s not funny.” You burst out a new fit of giggles, tugging on his bearded chin, without turning around, “Besides,” You try your best to cross your legs discreetly, not getting his attention that your pussy is dripping again, because, for Christ’s sake, your lady parts have been through literal Hell tonight, “it’s not like we haven’t tried it before.”

“Hmm.” Is his grumbling reply.

You let out an exhale of relief. It’s not your fault that your mind is filled with pure filth of how he used to bury his head between your thighs…

The show Family Feud goes on, but you allow the jests and laughs to slip by your ear, since your brain is occupied with porn, and wet your lips when you can almost feel his beard leaving a burn that would remain for days…

The calloused hand moves from your belly to your tits, weighing them in his palm.

Sy’s low timbre ghosts your ears, “Penny for your thoughts, sugar.”

Your pebbled peak rolls under his fingers involuntarily. No word comes out of your mouth except for a small whimper. God, you want him to eat you out, pin you down with one hand over your stomach and one hand groping your tits, swinging your legs over his broad shoulders, bringing you to the edge of ecstasy as you chant his name like a prayer.

“Want to grind on my face?” He proposes with his sinful lips, circling one hand painfully close to your weeping core, while flicking your nipple with the other. “Be a good little slut and ride Daddy like you were told to?”

“Uh-Uh-huh.” You nod eagerly. Your pussy feels raw and used, as if someone (Sy) has set fire to it, yet you could not resist the temptation of reaching your limit once again – what can you say, you never learn from the pain.

Sy admires your ruined body for a brief second, cupping your mound with his palm. You buck your hip to meet his fingers, but to your frustration, he holds his position without wavering, neither meeting your silent plea nor denying it. “Shit,” a sly smile hangs on the corner of his lips, “that desperate, huh? Fucking my hand like that? Poor baby.”

“Sy,” you whimper, struggling in his tightened grip, begging him with your teary eyes, “want you to kiss it and make it better, please Daddy.”

“Aww,” he coos softly, kissing the top of your head, “I like the sound of that.”

Smug bastard.

“Use your big-girl words, darlin’.” Sy traces a bead of sweat that disappears between your tits. His hand glides down your body, sneaking it under your thigh before pulling them wide open, earning a surprised squeal from your lips.

“Want t-to ride your face, Daddy.” You stutter as he lowers his head to kiss the carotid artery on the side of your neck, your fingers dig into his veiny arms that hold your thigh, “Want-ah!”

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” He feigns his curiosity, pretending he has no idea that he has just smacked your sensitive bundle of nerves, “Cat got your tongue? Can’t hear you though,” Sy smacks your pussy again, making you nearly jump from his embrace, “Don’ really know what you’re talking about, sugar.”

The harshness of the slaps adds to the numbness and the sting of your ruined hole, coating his hand with a shin of juices, which he wipes on the side of your thigh, glistening with the evidence of the betrayal of your body, even when it still hurts from the overstimulation during previous hours.

“Daddy,” you whine in embarrassment and a tinge of desperation, “Daddy, pleaaase.”

Sy chuckles behind you, manoeuvring himself to your front, pressing a bit harder on your stomach to have you lie down. Kissing both of your thighs, he spreads them wider than before – wide enough to fit a grown man and his shoulders in between – and trails a line of soft pecks on your lower abdomen, and finally, on your quivering pussy.

“Better make those pretty noises for me, darlin’,” Sy whispers while nibbling on your skin, lifting your thighs onto his shoulders - his favorite position. His tone drips a hint of darkness, both a threat and a promise, shooting a shiver down your spine, “If you ain’t screaming, you ain’t creaming.”