#So I don't want to put him in a position where he has to take the hug out of obligation
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lover-of-mine · 2 days ago
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what are your thoughts on nde for either eddie or buck in 8x08? me personally, im thinking buck is gonna get the nde, and i think he’s gonna be shot. tim recreating s4/5 when he originally wanted to do buddie, but what im thinking, is buck realizes his feelings for eddie but doesn’t want to/doesn’t know if he should tell him, then he gets shot and it’s all dramatic and eddie is there and freaking out, trying to save him and keep him alive (aka why they’re pushing medic eddie so much this season) and buck realizes this might be his last chance so he just goes for it anyway and while he’s bleeding out he tells eddie he loves him😭 i know this is probably not what’s gonna happen but lol i just enjoy theories and i always love to hear what you think!
adding onto this, i ALSO saw around twitter the theory that buck would get a nde, but he gets hit by a car or just in a car accident in general, and eddie is there and it parallels shannon’s death (obviously buck doesn’t die but you get the memo😆)
Hi, darling! Okay, I don't mean to shit on anyone's specs, but I think either of them getting shot again would be so uninspired. The show is slowly reintroducing new ways to pull the triggers they put down for buddie because they need to address the stuff that happened to them somehow, but a direct mirrored parallel to the shooting wouldn't work as well as everyone seems to think it would. Partially because I think that forcing Buck to confess because he (or Eddie) is dying is yet another way to take away Buck's agency and further attach Buck to the idea he's only worthy of love when someone bleeds. But also because putting one of them in the position to be doing the saving again won't really further their storyline. Eddie watched Buck in a nde twice, the bombing and the lightning, and Buck watched Eddie in a nde twice, the well and the shooting, and I think they need a combined trigger, aka a combined nde.
I am attached to my drown Buck theory, have them off duty, crash the car, end up trapped and the car filling with water, but I also think that the trapped dads theory also works a lot here, especially if you put them both in the situation while off duty, aka without gear or backup, and you can play with a lot of elements of every nde before that and create a catalyst for them to talk and figure themselves out. I also think everyone is getting ahead of themselves, I don't think they are in the place to get that catalyst yet, and 2 episodes are not enough to get them there when we are talking about an ensemble show. I feel like people are expecting a direct callback because we got a well callback and are getting a lightning callback, but while buddie was front and center during the well callback, they actually used it to further Chim at first. It works to get the audience thinking about different aspects of their past, which in turn makes it so that when they talk about it, it will be in our minds, but it doesn't explicitly address the implications with buddie. I think the lightning callback will be a lot about reminding Buck of whatever it was that he was supposed to learn with it the first time around that they never truly explored due to the network switch and Natalia not coming back. I also think that confronting the situation where Buck almost died and possibly watching a freshly heartbroken Buck be impulsive can push Eddie to look at some stuff that would push him into action to figure himself out.
Especially if @stagefoureddiediaz ends up right and the lightning callback ends up being a truck bombing callback too since the well callback is also a subtle callback to the kids on the cliff call in 304 and could be played into different directions when it comes to what comes out from it moving forward. Buddie has a lot to talk about, but they need a reason to think about the stuff they need to talk about on their own before getting to a point where they can actually have those conversations. I think they rely too much on how well they understand each other that they fail to consider the way they can't actually read each other's minds, and figuring that part out is important before pushing them to the catalyst. And please don't get me wrong, I'm like, 90% sure that the catalyst will be another nde, I just don't think it's gonna happen until 8b.
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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 21 hours ago
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@zepskies
I've been waiting ALL week for this!
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Dean has a problem. Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock… 
It's not a problem Dean, (the gun is obviously BUT) she is beautiful and you will love her and I will cry at your wedding.
He nods, and his smile falls with a weary sigh. The hard part about that is he doesn’t feel much guilt about what he’s done. At the same time, he does, and the conflict churns in his stomach. He knew what kind of man Roman was. He was the kind of soldier that could’ve filled Colonel Sanderson’s shoes one day. A fellow soldier under Dean’s command...
Dean no. No feeling bad for saving your girl and for killing the "sack of shit in human clothes."
Also I didn't notice the Colonel Sanderson thing before and now all I can think about is KFC lol.😂 Which is not to take away from how good this fic is or how well it's written. It's just me lol.
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Dean grimaces, but he stays quiet. He turns to the woman and holds a finger over his lips. She stares back at him in apprehension. He begins to creep slowly around the hill, but she grabs onto his wrist. For a second, she looks just as surprised as him by the reflexive action. Then, she shakes her head at him. Don’t go out there, her eyes say. Dean smiles, and he gives her a reassuring wink. He gently removes her hand and gestures at her to stay where she is. He army crawls up the side of the hill. It gives him a vantage point to watch his men, who approach just a few feet down below. 
Oh goodness she is already so protective of him and oh my word the wink had me melting lol.
I also don't think that I mentioned this before, but I really like how you wove in the other characters in the show. Seeing Benny and Cas show up just made me so happy.
Dean knows the position he’s put his own men in. He doesn’t blame them for following the Colonel’s orders. He just hopes they can forgive him for what he’s about to do. He leaps off the edge of the hill with a yell and brings Benny with him to the ground. He sweeps Cas’s legs out from underneath him, then tosses a punch that lands on the corner of Benny’s chin. He kicks Benny’s gun away, and wrestles Cas until his pistol falls from his hand. The three men scrap and trade blows, until Dean is the only one left standing. His men are groaning on the dusty ground, slowly picking themselves up.
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Oh my word seeing that fight in my head, um... YES PLEASE.
And the loyalty?! The love for their friend?! The "Goodbye brother."? It's so good.
“Kim…mila,” he attempts. She guides Mato closer and grabs Dean by his cheeks with one hand. “Kimmí.” “Kimmí,” he repeats with his cheeks squished. His face is starting to warm up, and not altogether in embarrassment. “Mila,” she says with a nod. “Mila,” Dean says. “Kimmímila.”
She's squishing his face! That is so cute, oh my stars. Plus I am cackling at how long it took him to be able to say her name.
“But my mother had a dream before I was born,” Mila says. “She saw beautiful wings, and said I would have a free mind. When I grew, and wanted to spend my days with horses more than cooking and sewing things, she didn’t call me free. She called me stubborn.” Her face begins to fall. “Maybe too stubborn.”
I absolutely love this! I really love it when writers pick the names of their characters based on the meaning behind it. And the fact that you gave the meaning of her name a backstory of her mom having a dream and the butterfly meaning that Mila "would have a free mind" is just so perfect for her. Because she is stubborn and she does have "a free mind" by being rebellious and strong, by being a strong female character who does not conform to the whims of what other people deem to be appropriate for her. Also it was funny that Dean thought she was like a "lioness."
"Fair enough," he says, glancing over at her. “I think my dad thought the fighting would end with the war, but, uh...it never really ends, does it?”
This is a really wonderful line, that the war "never really ends." It really fits this story and honestly it really fits the entire early history of the United States when it was acquiring territory and embracing the "manifest destiny" ideals.
Dean enjoys listening to her stories. He likes what he learns about her, but also, he just likes the sound of her voice, smooth and steady, almost calming. He thinks she might like the sound of his too, the way she’s smiled at him, laughed with him, glanced at him when she thinks he’s not looking.
Okay, the whole part where she is explaining things about her life and her culture was so sweet. Them opening up with one another is just so soft and a little fluffy and I'm so glad that they got to have those gentle moments with one another. Not to mention this bit where Dean admits how much he likes listening to her, is just so good lol.
And I thought it was really on brand for him to be a little upset that she doesn't completely trust him yet, even though that he killed one of his men. But he's got to learn to be patient... and then propose. LOL.
At the very least, the way she looks at him now is softer than that first day.
I think my soul has left my body. This is so cute.
She nods back at him and pretends not to watch when he sits up with a groan, stretching and bending his arms high behind his head. He removed his uniform jacket to sleep. It allows her to see every dip of male muscle that his plain white shirt clings to, even in the long sleeves. Her gaze furtively runs over the broad shoulders, the tapered waist, then back up to his half-bearded face, defined by a strong jaw and dark brows. The sun catches on his brown hair and teases the ends of it golden. She would never admit it, but he’s not unpleasant to look at. 
Don't be afraid to admit it Mila, we all know how good he is to look at. And why shouldn't you look at your future husband? 💍
A breath gets trapped in her throat as she once again looks between his warm hand closed over her smaller one, and his face. In the small space between them, there is a different kind of tension than before. Mila can’t tell what the man is thinking when he looks at her like that, but she doesn’t like it.
Oh my sweet goodness, the TENSION!!
This is so good my friend and I am so excited for what the future of this series holds and am praying that it doesn't end in death!😬💗
The Honorable Choice - Part 2
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 
Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.
AN: “Getting to know you, getting to know all about you…” ⬅️ If you’ve seen The King & I, then you’ll probably be singing that line in your head like I do.
Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU
Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack
Word Count: 3.1K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, protective Dean, historical tidbits, fluff
🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!
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Part 2: Death & Sacrifice
Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and the hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.
“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.
The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.
Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.
Dean has a problem.
Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock… 
He just can’t do it.
His finger eases off the trigger of his gun, and he lowers it to the ground beside him.
“I told you,” he says. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Her head tilts as she stares at his gun, then at him. She relaxes somewhat, and she backs off of him, sliding from his lap down to the grass beside him. Her closed fist with the knife comes to rest at her side. She gives him a look of wary bewilderment.
“You are a strange man,” she says.
Dean has to laugh a little, smiling at her afterward.
“I guess so,” he replies.
Her brows furrow. “You killed one of your own…for me?”
He nods, and his smile falls with a weary sigh. The hard part about that is he doesn’t feel much guilt about what he’s done. At the same time, he does, and the conflict churns in his stomach. He knew what kind of man Roman was. He was the kind of soldier that could’ve filled Colonel Sanderson’s shoes one day. A fellow soldier under Dean’s command...
And a sack of shit in human clothes.
Dean leans back on his hands in the grass and slides his legs out long. His stare falls to the earth between his boots. The ground is soft underneath him. Maybe it rained this morning. 
“Yeah, that’s gonna make it tough when I go back,” he says. “At best, that’s a court martial. At worst…”
The Lakota woman frowns, her dark brows nearly meeting in the middle as she considers him. He wonders what she sees when she looks at him.
“Tell you what,” Dean said. “Give yourself and your horse a rest tonight. I’ll go back and tell them I lost you in the canyon.”
Her eyes widen further in surprise. He can’t blame her for it. He’s surprising himself every time he opens his mouth.
“Will they kill you?” she asks.
Dean shrugs. “Nah, I’ll be fine.”
She levels him with a firmer look, one that demands the truth.
His nonchalance wanes, and he sighs.
“They might,” he says.
She shakes her head. She seems to deliberate over something, but eventually she comes to a decision. Just when she opens her mouth to speak, a gunshot rings out and hits the ground not far from their feet. A warning.
The sound of hooves thundering on the earth reach them before they look up. Two horses gallop towards them in the distance, their riders wearing blue uniforms.
They both tense up, but Dean is the first one to move. He grabs her arm and helps her stand along with him. They scramble back and lead the horses by their reins further into the trees. They find a denser patch and a raised hill to crouch down and hide behind.
The mustang is too tired to go very far, but Baby is already making anxious sounds, protective of her rider.
“Shhh,” Dean whispers, and runs a soothing hand over her side. He leads her to lay down with her legs tucked underneath her.
The Lakota manages to do the same with the mustang after whispering to him softly in her language. There’s a trust between them, Dean realizes. They have a connection that seems to mirror his own with his horse. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before.
“Captain!” Benny calls out.
Dean grimaces, but he stays quiet. He turns to the woman and holds a finger over his lips. She stares back at him in apprehension. He begins to creep slowly around the hill, but she grabs onto his wrist. For a second, she looks just as surprised as him by the reflexive action. Then, she shakes her head at him.
Don’t go out there, her eyes say.
Dean smiles, and he gives her a reassuring wink. He gently removes her hand and gestures at her to stay where she is. He army crawls up the side of the hill. It gives him a vantage point to watch his men, who approach just a few feet down below. 
“Captain Winchester!” Cas calls next.
“We don’t want to have to come and get you, Dean. Come on,” Benny says. He does sound reluctant, for his part. His voice grows more somber when he says, “Colonel’s given us orders to bring you and the girl back…dead or alive.”
Dean knows the position he’s put his own men in. He doesn’t blame them for following the Colonel’s orders. He just hopes they can forgive him for what he’s about to do.
He leaps off the edge of the hill with a yell and brings Benny with him to the ground. He sweeps Cas’s legs out from underneath him, then tosses a punch that lands on the corner of Benny’s chin. He kicks Benny’s gun away, and wrestles Cas until his pistol falls from his hand. The three men scrap and trade blows, until Dean is the only one left standing. His men are groaning on the dusty ground, slowly picking themselves up.
Dean’s heaving for breath as well as he leans back against the side of the hill. Despite that momentary victory, he knows what they all know: that this fight isn’t going to end until either they’re dead, or he’s dead.
“Where’s the girl, Dean?” Benny says. He implores him to see sense. “We take her back with us, we can smooth all this over with the Colonel. All of it, even Roman.” 
Dean lets out a deep breath, but he shakes his head.
“Can’t do that, Benny,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
There’s a question circling in his friend’s eyes, but after a beat, Benny seems to know the answer to it. He picks up his gun from the ground. Just like Dean once did, the Lieutenant now has a choice to make.
He shares a heavy look with Cas. The two of them nod, before they focus back on Dean.
Benny’s hand falls, and he stows his gun.
“You died today,” Benny says. “We found your body somewhere in the canyon. Your horse too.”
Dean nods, with something of a smile. He supposes faking his death is the only option now. He rips the badge off his uniform jacket and tosses it to Benny.
“There’s your proof,” he says.
Dean shares a grim nod of respect with Cas while Benny examines the torn patch denoting a captain’s rank.
“Take care of each other,” Dean says.
Benny’s head raises, and he meets Dean with a somber gaze.
“Goodbye, brother.”
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Dean doesn’t return to her until the men are out of sight through the trees. She’s still hiding along with the resting horses, waiting for him. That alone surprises him. It would bring a small smile to his face, if the weight of that goodbye didn’t feel so heavy on his shoulders.
He reaches out a hand for her. It takes her a moment to consider it, but she accepts his offer.
He helps her to her feet, after which, she quickly pulls her hand back. She’s wary of his touch, her face guarded when she looks up at him. Dean supposes he can’t blame her, even if it does strike a nerve. After what he just did for her…
His face becomes stoic, and he turns away to grab his hat from the dusty ground. “We should probably head out.”
She nods and calls to her horse to encourage him to his feet. Despite himself, Dean can't help but be curious. How did this girl manage to tame that wild beast?
“Does he have a name?” he asks.
“Mato,” she replies.
“Mato,” Dean echoes. “Does that mean something? You know, in your language.”
She eyes him wryly, brushing her hand over Mato’s hide.
“It means angry, like a bear,” she says.
Dean snorts. “Yeah, good name.”
He remembers his bruised side (and ego) from when the mustang threw him off his back.
Dean watches her with another realization as she gracefully mounts the horse. Baby has gotten up to her feet as well, already nudging the back of his arm with her snout. He rubs her nose in affection.
Then he turns to climb up onto her back, settling his feet into the stirrups and loosely grabbing the reins. He follows his companion’s lead farther into the forest, but he guides his horse to fall into step beside hers.
“Will you tell me your name now?” he asks. “Think we’ve been through enough together at this point, don’t you think?”
She considers it with a tilt of her head. She looks over at him with a small smile.
“Kimmímila,” she says. The syllables roll off her tongue effortlessly.
Dean raises his brows. “Kim…Kimmeela.”
She shakes her head at him, her lips pursing.
“Kimmímila.”
Lord help him, but he tries his best. His brows furrow.
“Kim…mila,” he attempts. She guides Mato closer and grabs Dean by his cheeks with one hand.
“Kimmí.”
“Kimmí,” he repeats with his cheeks squished. His face is starting to warm up, and not altogether in embarrassment.
“Mila,” she says with a nod.
“Mila,” Dean says. “Kimmímila.”
He’s treated to her smile, warm and true. She releases him, her gaze flitting over his face. Then she keeps riding. Dean grins to himself.
“Think I’m gonna call you Mila,” he says. Make it easier on myself.
She even laughs, a honeyed sound. “Yes, my father does too.”
“What does it mean? Your name.”
“In your language?” she says, in a tone that teases him back. She becomes thoughtful as she searches for the word. “It means…butterfly.”
“Really?” Dean remarks. She doesn’t strike him as a butterfly.
More like a lioness, he thinks, only somewhat holding back his grin.
She gives him some side-eye, despite her amusement.
“You think it does not suit me,” she observes.
“Well, I didn't say that—”
“I don’t think so either,” she admits. “There are many things that don’t suit me.”
Dean chuckles. He can imagine that.
“But my mother had a dream before I was born,” Mila says. “She saw beautiful wings, and said I would have a free mind. When I grew, and wanted to spend my days with horses more than cooking and sewing things, she didn’t call me free. She called me stubborn.” Her face begins to fall. “Maybe too stubborn.”
Dean offers her a rueful, sympathetic look. “Yeah, I get it. My brother always said I was damn hardheaded,” he says. “…Maybe we’ve got more in common than we thought, huh?”
Mila’s smile returns, however slightly.
“You have a brother?” she asks.
“Oh, yeah. He’s a lawyer, so he’s more needed back home,” Dean replies.
Damn. He really does miss his bookish little brother.
He explains to her about his family, his brother and mother who still live in Lawrence, and how he joined the army, in part to honor his father.
“What happened to him?” she asks.
“He died…in some cornfield near Sharpsburg, Maryland, fighting the Confederacy,” he replies, heaving a breath.
"Con...federacy?" she questions.
"The South," Dean explains. "See, most of our southern states thought they should be their own country, letting slaves plow their fields and mind their kids. I may have lived on a farm, but my father always paid his workers. He fought for the Union."
"So you fought among yourselves, over land that did not belong to you," Mila points out.
Dean falls silent. After a little while, he concedes her point with an incline of his head.
"Fair enough," he says, glancing over at her. “I think my dad thought the fighting would end with the war, but, uh...it never really ends, does it?”
Her expression of curiosity fades, turning more solemn.
“No,” she agrees. “…I am sorry for your father.”
Dean's a little surprised to hear that from her, but he nods his thanks. They continue to talk as the sun begins to set in the west. When it dips behind the canyon, they stop to make camp for the night, and he helps her catch a rabbit to roast on the fire they build together.
That night over the meal, she slowly opens up to him. He learns that she’s an only child, though she has a sibling-like bond with her older cousin, Šóta. She spends most of her days planting or harvesting their crops, depending on the season, as well as sewing, painting, helping the elders of her tribe with tasks, and helping her mother and aunt cook.
When the rabbit is gone, she unbinds her long, thick hair and untangles it while she speaks. She explains that the Lakota are just one of many tribes. There are six other bands of Sioux who live in this region. Along with the Dakota and the Nakota, they are the “Seven Council Fires” who have made the Great Plains their home for generations.
She tells him about the way her tribe lives, caring for one another, giving the land back as much as they take, and letting it rest. The men hunt and protect the village from the outside, but the women protect the inside, their way of life.
Most of all, Mila tells him, she loves caring for the horses. She goes out and rides whenever she can duck out of her mother’s watchful eye.
Dean enjoys listening to her stories. He likes what he learns about her, but also, he just likes the sound of her voice, smooth and steady, almost calming. He thinks she might like the sound of his too, the way she’s smiled at him, laughed with him, glanced at him when she thinks he’s not looking.
She still picks a spot as far away from him as she can to sleep though. She keeps the fire pit in between them. He even catches sight of her knife, hidden in the hand she tucks underneath her cheek. Evidently, she doesn’t fully trust him just yet.
It annoys him at first, considering how many times he’s saved her already. How much he’s sacrificed just to get them this far…
Until he remembers how they met. He remembers the disdain and anger in her brown eyes, then the mistrust, and the fear hidden underneath. He thinks of every experience she’s likely had so far with the U.S. Military, and anyone else who looks like him.
Dean settles down on the ground and stares up at the innumerable stars in a raven sky. He’s exhausted, but his thoughts don’t let him rest for a while. 
At the very least, the way she looks at him now is softer than that first day.
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In the morning, Mila watches the strange man wake.
He blinks and rubs his bleary eyes, yawning, groaning at the sun’s brightness like a child. She hides her smile by bowing her head over the apple she’s cutting with her knife. The orchards span wide across the forest, and soon he’ll find two yellow-red apples beside his head.
His brows raise at them, then he looks up at Mila sitting with her legs crossed behind the small fire pit. The wood there is just ash and blackened remains now, but it still carries the smell of burning.
“Morning,” he greets.
She nods back at him and pretends not to watch when he sits up with a groan, stretching and bending his arms high behind his head. He removed his uniform jacket to sleep. It allows her to see every dip of male muscle that his plain white shirt clings to, even in the long sleeves.
Her gaze furtively runs over the broad shoulders, the tapered waist, then back up to his half-bearded face, defined by a strong jaw and dark brows. The sun catches on his brown hair and teases the ends of it golden.
She would never admit it, but he’s not unpleasant to look at. 
Last night, she declined his offer to travel with her until she reaches her tribe safely, but he was insistent. Again, strange.
So here she is, with him. Here they are. 
Dean turns to see the horses grazing nearby. Mato no longer has the saddle and bridle his men put on him. He looks rested and at ease. He even whinnies at Baby, tossing his head a little. She answers him and flicks her tail. They continue eating together.
Dean smiles, then grabs an apple. He raises it to her in thanks before he takes a large bite. Its juices run down the corner of his mouth, and he wipes at it with the back of his hand. Mila can’t help but be drawn to the sight.
She tears her eyes away when he looks over at her.
“We have a long way to go. Three days, if the weather is good,” she says, continuing to carve pieces of her apple to eat. “We will know we are close when we reach the river.”
Dean nods in understanding. With a grunt, he gets to his feet and takes another bite out of his breakfast. She doesn’t expect the way he approaches her with a hand outstretched. She looks up at it, then at his expectant face.
“Come on. Let’s hit the road then,” he says.
Mila considers his offer for another moment. He seems to be making this a habit. Amused, she wonders if this is just kindness, or if the women of his people aren’t allowed to stand without a man’s help.
She pockets her knife, swipes her braided hair over her shoulder, and slips her hand into his, allowing him to help her to her feet. When she gets there, he’s closer than he should be.
A breath gets trapped in her throat as she once again looks between his warm hand closed over her smaller one, and his face. In the small space between them, there is a different kind of tension than before. Mila can’t tell what the man is thinking when he looks at her like that, but she doesn’t like it.
And at the same time, she does.
She takes back her hand, and she goes to the horses. She firmly ignores how her heart gallops, even as she rubs at her chest like it’s an ache that can be soothed.
She doesn’t hear Dean’s unsteady breath, nor does she see the way his green eyes follow her.
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AN: *rubs hands together* Well, here they are! It's all starting to come together. What did you think of Dean's decision?
Coming up next, we have the final part: some action, some fluff, and some potentially perilous situations for Mila and Dean...
Next Time:
“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”
Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.
“I will protect you,” she says.
Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.
She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.
“Mila…”
“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”
Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.
COMING 11/17! (New chapters every Sunday.)
Or read Part 3 on Patreon now!
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mer-acle · 2 hours ago
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i hold all the power (evil laugh, evil laugh)
Give me...
The big athena hcs
I desire knowledge and inspiration (evil laugh, evil laugh)
Haha
You kinda put me on the spot there. Not bc I don't have big headcanons but bc I'm like how do I phrase this without being like "here's the plot of that fic I wrote" yk? And now I'm unsure what constitutes a big headcanon... so I'm just gonna give you some more random ones and maybe you can help me out with what you were thinking of? (O.O)
For Epic specifically: Her owl form is a dark barn owl, bc they're really pretty and rare and have ginger feathers that match her hair
She dislikes Poseidon so much because he's so much like her father but her perception of him isn't softened by the love she has for Zeus.
Prometheus really saved her after Pallas's death. He kinda filled the void that losing Triton as a paternal figure had left more so than that of Pallas herself, but he took her along for his little creation projects (like the humans whoops) and they really match each other's freak. Yk. Until Zeus takes Prometheus away and definitely forbids Athena from visiting. I will literally murder him one of these days.
Speaking of Zeus taking people away, Athena was STRUGGLING after Pallas. Unsurprisingly, but still. Nobody but Hephaestus knows her from when she was still pretty openly mourning, they're all too young, and he never really asked why, but my girl was so depressed and lonely. She spend IRL HOURS in Quick Thought rewatching that battle and trying to figure out the moment where she went wrong. She knows Zeus intervened, but it doesn't matter to her, it's her spear, it's her kill. He was all like "for a nymph?" when she asked to take Pallas's name. "well, if you think that is a title worthy of your status..." It was her most open rebellion against his wishes for a while.
Her favorite domain is wisdom, but it's followed by crafting, not war. Don't get me wrong, she enjoys a good fight, but if she had to choose and wasn't worried about Zeus's opinion, she would choose crafting over war any day. The reason in my hc is how the domains are assigned, she was basically born with Wisdom, her powers are all about thought, and Zeus later assigned her with warfare which her powers work well with, but weren't technically meant for it. Meanwhile crafting is her "Passion domain" meaning her power in it literally stems from her intense enjoyment for creating. Imagine "What else can I do" from Encanto, but it's her discovering making clothes for the first time. The angst factor of this obviously being "My life has one mission, create the greatest warrior" Why is that her one mission? Is it the crushing weight of who she has to be?
My favorite bigger concept has to be her relationship with truth. In other words, Athena lies and manipulates her way through life, she is smarter than her father but knows he holds the power, so her council is whatever works in the moment, if she knows it's hopeless, she'll tell him what he wants to hear. Life has become a game for her, a game where she sells her soul for approval, bc she's lost those who loved her unconditionally, and can't trust those around her bc they're all trapped in the game with her, she doesn't want to be the favorite, she needs to be the favorite, it's the only way to survive, the only way for some semblance of safety and control, and yes, she gets along with mortals better than gods because they hold no power over her, they can't threaten the position she's worked so hard to achieve. Until Odysseus compromises a part of her that she hadn't thought she still had. Attachment never felt like danger with Pallas, but it does now, because what does it matter if you're more powerful when you respect the other person too much not to honor their wishes, should they tell you to leave them alone? If asked, she will have to leave, and that's terrifying (None of that would be overly conscious before My goodbye but for me, that breakup deep down always will be Athena being scared of her own feelings and trying to stop it before it goes too far and being at least 15 years too late.)
Woah that got dark lol I just wrote the last section and was like 👀fuck I am projecting SO bad. Like... gods I am so not okay. Jokes on me I thought I had headcanons all I have is trauma lmao
Anyways lol
Hope you liked it, and do let me know if you had something else in mind, I'll do my best :3
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chososrightnipple · 4 months ago
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❝𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 + 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨)❞
a/n: almost four hundred followers omg.. i love all you freaks mwah!! here is part two as promised. included some requests for characters. aged up! megumi and yuji of course. might do a part three maybeeee? afab body w/no gendered language as usual.
part one.
── დ ──
. *. ⋆ TOJI FUSHIGURO
▸ panty stealing. he thinks of it as memorabilia. snatching your panties from the floor before you have the chance to put them back on- just something he keeps to remember you bye.
▸ daddy kink. we all saw this coming, right? you call him daddy once and it's all he needs to fuck you into the bed for the rest of the night.
▸ thigh riding. seeing you frotting against his large thigh, desperate to cum, pussy practically drooling for it... his favorite foreplay 100%.
▸ cum play. this man will cum anywhere and everywhere and he'll love it. let him cum on your face, your ass, your chest, your back, down your throat, etc etc.
▸ hatefucking. angry sex after an argument where he takes out all of the stress you caused him on your poor holes :(
▸ breeding. you can give him another baby, can't you? you can make him a daddy all over again, right? just let him cum inside of you as much as he wants, he'll make it happen, he swears.
▸ exhibitionism. you grind against him once on the bar floor and next thing you know he's dragging out to the empty alleyway and pressing you against the nearest wall.
▸ size difference. he's so large, so big, every single part of him practically overtaking you. and he gets off on that fact so fucking hard!!
. *. ⋆ NANAMI KENTO
▸ cockwarming. seating himself inside your warm pussy while he's stuck doing all kinds of boring paperwork. he'll fuck you, he swears, you just gotta sit pretty on his lap for a little bit, okay?
▸face fucking. he loves taking out all of his stress on you. gripping your hair as he uses your mouth mercilessly, bullying his cock down the back of your tight throat.
▸blindfolding. silk ribbons in a variety of colors that he matches to the underwear you're modeling for him. only the best for his lover <3
▸ thigh riding. there's no better way to put him in the mood than pathetically grinding yourself against his thigh, using his body selfishly for your own pleasure.
▸ hair pulling. y'all know that one scene... he pulls at your hair exactly like that. fingers going white with how tight he's tugging at you, manipulating your position until you're face to face with his scowl.
▸ spanking. makes you count for every slap and if you miscount, he's starting all over again. pay better attention to him next time, yeah?
▸ semi-public. yes, he will bend you right over his desk, no he doesn't care there's a meeting going on next door. or better yet, against the window of the fourth floor, overlooking the busy street below it.
▸ phone sex. it really isn't any problem that he's across the country on a mission. even just the sound of your whines over the phone is enough to get him off.
. *. ⋆ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
▸ panty stealing. he would say he feels bad about it, but he doesn't. you looked so good in the lacey little things, he can't help but want to keep them for later. even has his own little drawer for them.
▸ masochism. the stinging pain of your nails running down his back is utterly euphoric. and don't get him started on how harshly you tug at his hair when he's eating you out- he can cum in his boxers just from that alone.
▸ breast play. massaging at the skin, feeling the plumpness under his fingertips. sucking at your nipples and leaving a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts. he's obsessed.
▸ edging. leaving you just on the brink of release over and over again, until tears are streaming down your face. he'll let you cum eventually, you just look so pretty this worked up for him.
▸ marking. oh my goddd do not get megumi started on this. he doesn't know why it gets him so worked up- seeing you covered in the hickeys and bite marks that he's left on you- but it does.
▸ cunnilingus. eats you out like a man starved, like he'll never eat you out again. pulling him away from your poor pussy is next to impossible if he's not yet done with his meal.
▸ mutual masturbation. sometimes you both just need to relaxation of release and nothing more. sitting across from each other on the bed, or maybe side by side, listening to the moans of the other as you both touch yourselves.
▸ dacryphilia. like adoptive father like adopted son. seeing your eyes brim with tears from how good he's fucking you drives him crazy.
. *. ⋆ YUJI ITADORI
▸ ass play. we all know he's an ass man i mean come on?! doggy style is his favorite position just because of it. seeing how the fat of your ass moves with every slap of his hips is fucking addicting.
▸ praise kink. tell him how good he's fucking you and how much of a good boy he is pleaseeee!!!!
▸ toys. he didn't realize how much he would love bringing toys into the bedroom until he sees how hard you can cum around him while he holds a vibrator to your clit.
▸ raw sex. he knows it's stupid, fucking you with no protection. you're pussy just feels so good, so warm, he needs to fuck you raw.
▸ face riding. please sit on his face, suffocate him, he doesn't care. it's his favorite position to eat you out.
▸ overstimulation. poor baby doesn't even mean to overstimulate you half of the time- he just has so much stamina, you understand that, right? and seeing you so flushed and fucked out under him has him so horny. just one more round, yeah? you can do that for him, right?
▸ dirty talk. yuji is a yapper and that doesn't stop when he's fucking you. the filth that comes out of his mouth has you wet just thinking about it.
▸ dry humping. the tension, the intimacy, the panting, the friction?? all of it, it's like a drug to him.
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debauchedoverlord · 2 days ago
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The saiyan is confident after the woman says the words he wants to hear. The scent that is her arousal is picked up by his sense of smell quickly, and he seems to enjoy such. He removes his grasp over Solveig's hand to crouch for his eyes to admire the wet intimacy. It doesn't even look as if it needs more stimulation for his dick to be able to enter it. But thirsty is the saiyan as he spread her with thumbs before he starts to consume what is his. His tongue is seen moving all over the organ as the sweet taste only arouses him more. Not allowing any of the nectar to escape him. Though, as the tongue is greedily and hungrily tasting the pussy of the powerful woman. One hand is squeezing the majestic behind harshly, nails sinks into her flesh and draws blood. Better this than being punched to death like just a few minutes ago. For a moment, the delicious intimacy is left alone by the saiyan. Merely for him to sink his teeth into the other side of her behind. Her skin breaks under the sharpness of teeth and strength of jaw. Though, despite the crazed state, the warrior is in. Nothing besides the marking of her behind happens. He rises from the crouching position and strikes the woman with an open palm exactly where he has just inserted his fangs. Purposely, to make the other sing in pain. You are much prettier like this, Solveig. A praise he knows will only anger the other further, and it is precisely why he says so. But regardless of how she feels, there is nothing she can do to stop him.
He places himself behind the woman, spitting on a palm to cover half of his dick in saliva, before he presses the tip at the entrance of her intimacy. If you wanted me to take your virginity, you could have just asked. After all, the first time he had gotten a hold of her. He, purposely, stimulated her body to the point that she was a fountain. Just thinking about that wonderful day made the warrior grin with glee. Despite the brutal behavior of earlier, he pushes inside of her pussy. He is no longer the saiyan that has wanted to badly hurt the other. Now he wants to satiate his lust and with this pussy handed to him on a silver plate. He does not see why he would not utilize it as he sees fit. The massive head has finally got fully eaten by her pussy, so, with violence, follows suit the rest of the impressive dick.
The Womb at the end crushed.
But, he does not move, the body of the evoline needs to adapt to him. It needs to accept him as the only dick that can satisfy this lewd body. Congratulations on losing your virginity, by the way. Needless to say that the taunts are only to enhance her anger. People say they never forget the person who has taken their virginity. Do you agree? Unable to wait anymore, the saiyan moves the strong organ backward to slam it back to her womb. He grunts, likely having grown fond of it. I know you were a virgin a few seconds ago, but you're ridiculously tight. His massive boobs soon presses against the back of the woman as he leans to whisper into her ear. You often said something about turning me into another one of your holes. But you won't get to do that anymore. Why don't you enjoy how my massive boobs feel against your back? If you're enough of an obedient girl, I might let you touch them. Though, the weight of his boobs soon leaves her back as the saiyan puts his hands on her waist. Oh, don't worry about your house. I'll repair it after my balls are empty. A man of his words, even if it is unlikely that she will ever be grateful for such. Soon, hardness crashes against softness. Womb being squeezed by his dick. A ravenous licking of lips before another thrust is made, which is instantly followed by another. A delectable shiver runs up his spine, which is the reason he starts to pound like an animal, having found the perfect partner for reproduction.
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the-cooler-king · 8 months ago
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in true earth-sign fashion, I'm going to observe a little longer before I send the most pathetic text I've sent in 15 years
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angelfrombeneth · 1 month ago
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PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT, RIGHT? - N . CHAVEZ
Mature Content Ahead
Nicholas Chavez x F!Actress Reader
Warnings: SMUT
Summary: You and Nicholas are costars in a new show - Grotesqueire. When it is time to film a sex scene, you aren't ready; awkward tension takes over, but you know what they say; Practice makes perfect.
Note: I just want to say thank you so much for 1k followers and I hope you enjoy this one - and if you are new here, check out my other works. I have new stuff coming, feel free to request in my inbox for a specific character.
The filming for Grotesqueire has been underway for a few weeks now, this is your first big role in any media which you are extremely excited for. The show has an extremely interesting script, which is one of the reasons you wanted to put your all into your audition - which got you here.
"Y/N, I need you on set B in 5 minutes" Someone shouted from outside the trailer.
You sat up, taking your glasses off as you put them aside as you grabbed your contact case, quickly putting your contacts. You grab your veil, before exiting your trailer and walking towards the set. Crew preparing sets around you as you pass through different hallways, so much going on in one place but somehow you still felt at home.
"I was wondering where you were" You heard Nicholas laugh behind you as you turned to face him.
You laughed, turning to him as you smiled. Nicholas was your co-star playing a weirdly odd but kinky priest - and well, he was definitely lovely to look at.
"Nicholas, what are you doing?" The costume leader came scrambling over. "That isn't your costume for this scene- come!" She grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the set.
You laughed at Nicholas getting dragged away before walking upon the director and listening to your scene directions.
You sat upon your position on the set, the hairstylist coming to fit the veil upon your head properly, fixing your hair under it as you noticed Nicholas enter the set from the side of your view. You turn to look at him, your eye quirking up at his costume- well lack of costume.
"Nicholas why are you wearing just a towel?" You laughed.
"I have no idea- This is what Marissa gave me-" He spoke but was quickly cut off by the director on the megaphone.
"Alright! So can we get Talia on set please!"
You watched a girl walk up to you and Nicholas, smiling as she held a clipboard. "Y/N! Nicholas! I am very grateful to meet you, I am Talia your intimacy coordinator"
You blinked. You read the script you knew it was coming but you didnt realise it would be so early on. Nicholas shared a similar face to you.
"Now, don't worry, we will go over the main aspects and go over any boundaries the pair of you have" She smiled.
The next twenty minutes were spent with you, Nicholas and the intimacy coordinator. You were still shocked. It wasn't that you couldn't do it - Nicholas was attractive, and all, and the attraction for the scene was definitely there; it was just the awkwardness of it.
The tension loomed in the air as you stared at Nicholas from the doorway, reciting your lines.
After talking Talia deemed you guys to be okay to proceed, the horn sounded round the studio as the pair of you prepared for your scene.
"Can you dry my back sister... please" He hummed, passing a folded white towel over to you. You took it, walking behind him as he kneeled infront of the bed. You took the towel, slowly sliding it over his back full of gashes, cleaning the blood from his back as your finger ran over the bumps. You let your hand reset to his shoulder, softly gripping it as he hummed, it was what was scripted but it felt.. awkward.
"CUT!-" Shot through the studio as alarms sounded once more. Talia and the director came over, looking at you and Nicholas.
"Maybe lets take a break, you two talk through the scene and try and coordinate something. It feels.." The direction tapped his chin as he spoke.
"Awkward. It was very tense and not good tense" Talia sighed.
Nicholas sat on the couch looking up at you snickering as you groaned, sitting beside him, tossing your legs over his as you leaned back on the couch.
The pair of you nodded, walking out of the studio and towards the trailer as you groaned, flinging open the door as you tore the veil off your head yet again.
"I had no clue we were filming.. that today. It's just.. awkward" You looked at him, watching his body face yours completely as he held your full attention. The way his eyes stared into yours as you spoke.
"I mean if it makes you feel any better, I was pretty nervous. I didnt really know what to do and its just unfamilar i guess, its not a regular sex scene its gotta be.. kinky" He chuckled.
He made you feel comfortable. No pressure at all, the awkwardness was lifting bit by bit, showing the light under the fog.
"I mean what if we just.. you know" You blurted.
"If we just what?" Nicholas looked at you confused. "Fucked?"
"I mean you said it not me.." You looked around the room, trying to break the obvious tension as he laughed at your reaction. "I mean, for the scene right?" You smirked.
"Yeah for the scene." You sat up and looked at him as he spoke, crawling towards him slightly. You paused just before him. One of your hands gripping his thigh as the other held his shoulder.
The pair of you looked at each other for a brief moment, the balance of friends and coworkers about to be broken. As much as you wanted to chant in your head, 'it's for work, for work,' it wasn't, was it.
Your lips softly connected with his, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled you in, sitting upon his lap, your legs wrapping and encasing him between. His lips mimicked your movement, slowly moving against yours, matching your pace and rhythm.
You pulled away briefly for a moment, looking at him. "This is work right..?" You chuckled.
"Definitely work" He smirked, pushing himself up, sending you up as he pulled apart your dress, the top clasps undoing as you kissed him forcefully. Your arms flew around his neck as he tugged the dress down slightly.
Your lips interlocked as you kissed each other hungrily, your hands combing through his locks as he slid all over your torso, pinching and grabbing at the flesh.
You both wouldn't admit it, but this was a long time coming. With the subtle flirting on and off set, you both were excited for the sex scene to finally be able to 'get a taste' as Nicholas said - but you didn't expect this.
You pulled away, gripping the waist of the dress as you dragged it up your body, pulling it up over your head as you dropped it to the floor, allowing yourself to fall back against the couch, your arms around his neck as you guided him ontop of you.
"Fuck-" Nicholas groaned, towering above you as he stared down as you adored in your black lace set as you stared up at him. "Is lingere supposed to be apart of the costume.. I mean stockings? Really? The dress covers it" His hand slid down your thigh to your calf, feeling the silky sheer material covering your bare skin.
"Personal touch" You smirked at him, your hands holding his shoulders as he licked his lips.
Nicholas's head turned to the side, kissing the wrist of your hand as it held his shoulder, taking the hand as he kissed up your arm slowly, gaining closer and closer.
You pulled him down towards you, rubbing his neck softly as you pecked his lips softly. "Nick- This is mad" You laughed out.
A smile covered his lips as he kissed your cheek, to your jaw and slowly down your neck, nipping occasionally. "Its practice... for work of course"
"The for work excuse has been.. overused~" You melted into his touch, your hands resting softly upon his hips above the towel that fixed upon his body. You tugged his hips closer, noticing his lips depart from your collarbone as he peered up at you.
He licked his lips, sitting back upon his knees as he stared down at you, that cheeky grin on his face. "Now, got to act suprised in the scene, I'll give you a little preview" He snickered.
You reached forward for his towel, tugging it as it puddled at his knees. You gawked for a moment, you didnt expect him to actually be pare naked under the towel - acting and all, you'd think he'd have some sort of cover.
"The director thought it would be more authentic to be completely naked under the towel.... For gravity purposes" He winked, his hands sliding down your waist, hooking his fingers through the sides of your underwear, slowly pulling them down your body.
"That's a terrible excuse" You laughed as you lifted your feet out of your underwear as he dropped them on the floor. You sat up, pushing his chest as he sat back on the couch.
"Calm down, cowgirl", He snickered, leaning back as he stared at you; one of his heads reached to rest upon your hip, the other clasped around himself as he gradually began to pump.
You reached back, unclasping your bra and sliding it off slowly as you threw it at him, the pair of you laughing. The sight of him leant back against the couch, hot and bothered as he stared at you while touching himself was all too much, it was making you hot and bothered.
"Fuck me, you are so hot Nicholas" you brought your hands to your face, covering your eyes as you let out a loud drawn out sigh.
"Genes.. what can I tell you" He smiled, as you leaned forward pecking his lips softly a few times. His grin seeping into the kiss as you stared at him, your noses touching eachother slightly.
You leaned in, capturing him in a soft kiss, instantly reciprocated as both his hands gripped your waist. You sat in his lap, softly grinding down against him - humming softly within the kiss at the friction.
You noticed his eagerness as his hips would occasionally buckle up against yours, one of his heads to your neck, gripping it softly as he pulled you closer - the pair of you intensely making out.
Your hands raked through his hair, tugging and stroking it as his hand tested with pressure around your neck as you hummed softly, lightly moaning within the kiss.
You pulled away abruptly, looking down as you took him into your hand as you slowly guided him into you as you let out a light and soft moan, which was sounded out by his own moan.
"Fuckkkk-" His head fell backwards as his hands fell upon your waist, guiding you slowly.
You looked down at him, your hands holding his shoulders as you slowly rutted your hips against his, grinding down against him. Watching his face twitch in pleasure as his breathing stuttered at each movement.
"You are so vocal" You laughed, pecking his lips softly as you rested your forehead against his, continuing to grind down against him, watching his body for every single twitched movement.
"Cant help it- Does it bother y-you.." He stared up at you, slightly breathless as he grinned, his eyes half lidded.
"Absolutely not.. turns me on if anything" You chuckled, kissing his cheek softly as you leaned down to nibble on his ear lobe as you continued to ride him.
Nicholas continued to groan in your ear, making you smirk as you speed up your movements, dropping your body weight down against him harshly as you bucked your hips back and forth. Cusses spewed from his lips as you continued to do so. 'Fuck' 'Shit' 'Holy Fuuuck-', continued to fall from his lips as you hummed softly, soft moans leaving yours.
You watched him intently as his eyes rolled back, his eyes staying hooded as he tried to steady his breathing. Smirking as you noticed the effect you had over him, especially how cocky he is normally.
Your movements slowed down as you panted softly, leaning against him for balance and he noticed. Nicholas picked you up, causing you to yelp momentarily as you pushed you up against a desk.
"Getting tired?" He smirked, pressing his hands against the wall behind you, as he thrusted harshly forward - causing you to gulp back a moan. Your fists clenching as you stared up at him.
"I thought-" You groaned, at each thrust he made, pressing your hands against his chest as you steadied your breathing.
"Mhm.. You thought wrong; I was definitely enjoying before, though.." He pecked your lips softly, leaning to your ear. "My turn now" He whispered.
His hands hooked under your thighs, lifting your lower body up slightly as he continued to thrust into you. You yelped out, shutting your eyes as you tried to control yourself from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure, trying hard to not let go so soon. His lips harshly locked against your neck, as he sucked and bit down against the flesh.
"Nicholas-" You gasped out, moaning softly as your fingernails clawed down his back harshly.
"Shhhh" He cooed, as he licked up your neck, his hips continuing to slam against yours as the desk rocked below the pair of you.
"So fucking good- holy-" You gasped, staring at him as you laughed out slightly, his lips curling up into a smile as he continued to thrust, his hands holding your hips up just above the desk as you locked your legs around his waist tightly.
He dropped you harshly against the wood, placing a hand on your neck, kissing you roughly as you raced to reciprocate. His tongue halfway down your throat as your hands slid down his chest, your fingers feeling between the crevises of his sculpted chest. His free hand, cupping your breast as he squeezed it occasionally.
You hummed needingly into the kiss as his thumb pressed pressure against the front of your throat, causing you to tighten - which he felt. You could feel the smirk on his face as he kissed you, his tongue exploring your mouth as you helplessly allowed it.
You felt his whole hand clamp down on your neck with pressure. Your breath hitched for a moment at the sheer shock as he pulled away, your foreheads resting against one another, beads of sweat falling and mixing within each other as you gasped, staring into his eyes as he thrust deeply, holding himself within you.
"...Nick.." you croaked out as he stared at you, his eyes blown out with lust as he leaned in, biting your lip between his teeth as he held his eye contact with you, his thumb still pressed hard against the front of your throat.
He took his free hand, sliding his middle finger and index finger past your lips and into your mouth as you stared at him. You gave him no indication against it which caused his dick to twitch. He began to thrust against yet this time harder but slower. Your body rebounded each time, pushing yourself into the wall that you could've meshed into it. You sucked on his fingers, tugging his hair as you run your hand down his face, caressing it as you let out a guttural moan as he trusted once more.
"Good girl.. cum for me" He whispered, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth and removing his hand from your neck as his face flew to yours, your lips instantly crashing upon one another as he gripped your hips, pulling you forward and roughly thrusting into you.
You moaned into his mouth, panting heavily as you drew closer and closer to your high. Your leg twitching as you threw your head back as his lips sucked and nipped at your neck as you screamed out loudly. Your hands clawing down his back as you came undone.
You were too dazed in your high, groaning and panting as Nicholas pulled out, groaning as he pumped himself watching as your whole body twitched.
Your legs flung closed as you stared at him, exhausted as he whined before he came on your thigh, whimpering and panting as he did so, his arm leant against the wall behind you as it supported his weight - his face mere centermeters away.
"Holy fuck-" You chuckled, out of breath as you stared at him.
His chest rose and fell as he stared up at you with hooded eyes. His finger swiping his cum off your thigh as he held it up to you.
You smirked, leaning forward and sucking it off his finger as you looked at him. He smiled at you before pushing himself off the wall as he stumbled back to the couch, laying back on it as he sighed - catching his breath.
"That was more of a workout than my actual workout sessions.. jesus Christ", Nicholas groaned, his arm resting up above him.
You pulled yourself off the desk, your legs slightly wobbly as you slowly approached him. You sat beside his head, lifting it and resting it against your thigh as you sighed.
"I think we've got the sex scene down, don't you.." You laughed, running your fingers through his hair.
"Oh, definitely" He smirked up at you.
It was safe to say, when the pair of you finally caught your breath you showered and got rechanged into your costumes. You had to cover up all the marks on your neck but for Nicholas it was fine, he was already marked by makeup so hopefully no one could tell the difference.
When the pair of you got to set, you definitely delivered the sex scene, going beyond the script. Hair pulling, finger sucking, tit grabbing, ass grabbing - the lot. Safe to say everyone was impressed.
"CUT! That was exactly what we needed, guys!" The director clapped as you and Nicholas stared at each other, panting slightly. You smirked, looking down at the tent under the towel Nicholas was wearing.
"Please don't move- it'll be so fucking embarrassing", Nicholas begged. You chuckled, patting his chest.
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eloquentlytired · 2 months ago
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Logan with a breeding kink fic? 😉
18+ mdni
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— raw.
pairing: logan howlett x fem reader
word count: less than 900
tags: unprotected sex — breeding — logan is feral — just filthy smut — risky sex — dom/sub undertones
author’s note: hi anon I hope this was a good read for you. logan having a breeding kink is so incredibly canon honestly
ৎৎৎ
“lo.” you moan as you lie facedown on the bed, legs straight, hips slightly raised. logan enters you from behind and the way he stretches you in this position has you whimpering. one of his large hands puts weight on your head and forces you to bury it against the bedsheets as you sob beneath him. his other hand stays on your middle to kind of support himself as he fucks you, driving his veiny cock into your deepest parts. the bed creaks beneath your moving bodies but you don't seem to care. logan grunts as he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, coating it too with your arousal. “still taking your pills like a good girl?” the shake of your head makes his hips slow down and gradually stop. you tilt your head at an awkward angle to stare at him and he stares back. “w—we ran out.” you whisper, voice still laced with arousal and need. logan weighs his options as his eyes drift downwards where his cock is completed soaked by your wetness and even his pubic hair drip with the doings of your pussy. his bare cock twitches inside you and you moan. “not safe,lo. let's just—”
there's not much you can do in this position when logan starts thrusting again. you take what he gives you and your eyes roll back when the fat head of his cock kisses your sweet spot, making your entire body shake all over. tears of pleasure slide down your cheeks and he leans down to kiss a tender spot on your shoulder before biting down. he grounds his hips in circles and you almost scream. “there— there,lo.” you beg him and he repeats the motion again and again. when your pussy tightens around him as you cum, logan growls into your shoulder and you can sense him growing more feral over you. your hands grip onto the bedsheets for dear life as you drool and cry against the mattress. logan drives his cock faster inside you and a few more thrusts later he fills you up, leaning the weight of his lower body on yours that his cock nudges impossible places within you. it makes you squirm and logan offers you a reassuring kiss as he pants against your shoulder, trying to process the raw feel of your walls around his bare girth.
“fuck.” you hear him curse minutes later and when you look back, your eyes widen. logan slips his softening cock out of your pussy and watches as his own come drips out and over your cunt. you exchange a silent and long stare and then logan is moving you again. you don't know what's happening or why but you're about to.
you've lost count and you've also lost any sanity left for the time being. you drag a hand over your belly as logan pumps his load inside you again, making your thighs shake from where they sit atop his own. you're laying on your back this time while he gets comfortable between your spread legs, breeding you until the late hours. “one last time. I swear,baby.” he lies through his teeth again and you allow it. logan slips his hands underneath your legs and shoves them back until your knees are nearly touching your chest. his cock is still hard and leaking — he'd really done it this time — and he wants to blame your bare cunt for wrapping around his cock so perfectly. you're tired and your pussy feels a little sore but you can't help but reach a wandering hand to your clit and rub it as logan fucks you mercilessly. his balls are heavy and drag against you with each shallow thrust. your entire body shakes and your other hand remains atop your stomach; you're full, so full, and your toes curl when you think about how much of logan’s seed you've stored in your womb.
“lo—” you're letting go again, your entire body spasming as your fingers shake against your swollen clit. logan’s eyes narrow when he watches you squirt beneath him and one of his hands is moving down to toy with your pussy, his fingers moving past yours and past your clit to tease the source of your squirt. it makes you cry and nearly scream. logan feels his balls tighten and before you know it he's already giving it to you again, spilling everything inside your pussy to make it full. to make his seed take place. “lo.” by the time you call for him he's already slipping a hand around your nape, clutching it, while his other hand joins your own on top of your stomach.
your lips meet and logan soothes you. “so pretty, so sweet. you took so much in ya, princess.” and his whispers make you tremble even more as you kiss him back slowly. his kisses are nothing like the way he fucks you; they're slow, patient and gentle. logan hums into your mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck. his fingers flex upon your stomach, even doing so much as squeeze it. he loves it. “how ‘bout we forget about those pills?” logan growls.
his cock doesn't stay soft for long and when his hand presses into your tummy possessively, you know exactly what awaits you.
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chuluoyi · 1 year ago
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✎ wife
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- gojo satoru x reader
in which the new batch of first years are unaware that their eccentric teacher's wife is the pretty woman roaming the school grounds
genre: fluff, crack, gojo being a silly little menace as always, yuji and nobara are confused, an attempt at humor, lovesick gojo, mention of breastfeeding
note: it’s so silly but i had fun writing this! based on a request by anon (thank you!) but i tweaked it a bit and partly inspired by this fanart. reader is also a teacher at jujutsu high and has a baby with gojo—loosely a continuation of protect
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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"Take that off immediately!"
"Kyaaah~! Yuji is here, you pervert!"
Yuji was a laughing mess. Megumi and Nobara collectively sighed. Nanami attempted to retrieve his once-immaculate suit, now a crumpled mess, from the one and only Gojo Satoru, who found humor in stealing his signature attire and impersonating the stern-faced Nanami in front of his fresh batch of first years.
"He is incorrigible," Nobara grumbled, her eyes slitting. They said that he was a strong sorcerer, possibly the strongest there was, but she found it really hard to believe.
Megumi threw her a deadpan stare. With many years of putting up with this kind of antics under his belt, he pitied her for not knowing that this was far from the worst. "Yeah, he is."
"How does anyone ever put up with him?"
That was actually a good question. "We don't..." Megumi paused, recalling each and every occasion where he tried to do so. "His wife is probably the only one who can."
Nobara sputtered, spinning towards him. "What the—wife? That annoying man has an actual, living, breathing wife?"
"Who? Gojo-sensei?" Yuji chimed in, jumping into the conversation, leaving the supposedly two adults in their catfight. Nanami was still clawing to get his suit back, and Gojo continued to giggle and evade him, playfully running away.
Nobara scoffed. "I bet the woman just married him for the money. He comes from prestigious clan, yes? That must be it."
Yuji felt his eyes would pop out of its sockets. "What are you talking about, Kugisaki!? What woman—"
"Shut up, Itadori! Don't be too loud!"
Nobara and Yuji's unharmonious ruckus irritated Megumi to the bone, and he decided that the best course of action now was to leave them all in the dust. With a glare and a shake of his head, he stalked away.
And thus the two new first years were left with half-truths that would lead them into a major misadventure later that day—
—which happened when they spotted Nanami with you, whom they were still unfamiliar with.
They were convinced that Gojo’s wife must be some sort of boring tramp eyeing his wealth and not this positively radiant, mature woman, and so ruling that possibility out, they positively swooned at the sight before them.
"He's irresponsible, egotistical—" snippets of Nanami's frustrated words conveyed enough to paint a picture of Gojo's character. He was definitely ranting about Gojo to you.
"Is that Nanamin's wife?" Yuji mused, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "She is so pretty..."
"They... look cute together," Nobara hummed with dreamy eyes, and then looked at Yuji sharply. "And yes, she's indeed pretty, but know your place, Itadori!"
"I know!"
Based on how the two of you interacted, they concluded that you must have been close, with the way Nanami visibly relaxed around you, and not as formal as he was with anyone else. They highly suspected that the two of you were married, as you wore a ring, which was the ultimate sign.
"And how's the baby?" Nanami asked then, directing the question to you with a smile on his face, prompting surprised gasps from both Yuji and Nobara.
You were glowing, to say the least, and when you let out a small giggle at his question, even both students couldn't miss the way your expression exuded pure happiness. "He is well. Ah, I really wanted to bring him along too, but he was a little messy after eating so I left him at home. You can see him later…"
Yuji gaped. "So it's true..."
"Oh my gosh... and they have a baby." Nobara almost squealed.
And that sealed it. The headline of the day: Nanami is married to this stunning woman wandering the school grounds.
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So imagine their utter shock when the second time they found you, you were with Gojo, and he was shamelessly snogging you in the hallway.
“Why are you here?” Gojo was breathless after the soul-sucking kiss he smothered you. His tone remained playful yet carried a clear undertone of concern. "You're still on maternity leave. I'll make sure Yaga knows that."
“Satoru,” you whined, and the use of his given name made Yuji and Nobara gasp in disbelief. “I’m perfectly okay and I don’t need to breastfeed anymore. I should start getting back to work.”
Nobara seemed to finally understand the implication. But Yuji didn’t. His mind flitting from one scandalous idea to another—
Gojo-sensei seducing Nanamin’s wife? Nanamin’s wife cheating on him with Gojo-sensei?
In the brief period he spent with Gojo, Yuji realized that he didn't exactly have a reputation for decency. So despite himself, he could only muster up this one word: “Homewrecker. Homewrecker!”
Yuji’s shriek took all three of you by surprise, and now both you and Gojo were aware of his presence.
“You absolute idiot,” Nobara hissed, face-palming.
“Oh, Yuji? Nobara?” Gojo genially asked, his concern towards you quickly dissolved into a meaningful smirk on his face. “And what do you mean by—?”
Yuji yelped. “You! You are! You’re trying to seduce Nanamin’s wife!”
Silence. Gojo’s eyes twitched beyond his blindfold. You blinked. Nobara wanted to save herself from the second-hand embarrassment. And his loud voice caught the attention of Megumi too, who was close by.
“You seem to be mistaken. First of all, Nanami isn’t married,” Gojo said with a strained voice, maintaining his smile. He then gestured at you, showing you off with pride. “And this here, is my wife.”
“Y-your wife?!” Yuji exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger. “H-how?! I saw her with Nanamin! Talking about a baby—”
“That would be my baby.”
“But how?!”
“Yuji, do you want me to give you a crash course in baby-making—”
“Satoru!”
You sent him a glare and turned to the young first years with a smile. "You must be the new first years? I’m Y/N, and I’m in charge of the second years.” You gestured towards your husband. “And please, ignore most things he says. He’s a bit crass, and if you ever feel he's harassed you, don't hesitate to report it to me."
“Wifey! How could you!”
“Shut up, Satoru! You’re embarrassing yourself!”
“What are you doing here?” Megumi inquired with a deep frown, getting between Yuji and Nobara as they stared at Gojo in total bewilderment.
Yuji exclaimed in disbelief, pointing at you. “Fushiguro! Gojo-sensei’s wife is a beauty!”
“…I know that already.”
Nobara whipped her head towards him. "You knew?! Since when?!"
“They… took me in.”
“THEY WHAT?!”
Gojo grinned at their chorus of surprise. “And what a fine boy he turns out to be, eh?”
Megumi scowled, but Gojo wasn’t bothered at all. If anything, what offended him was—
"What makes you think my dear wife here belongs to Nanami instead of me?" he joked with a mock scoff, earning an eye roll from you.
Nobara and Yuji blurted out their thoughts simultaneously.
“They look good together?”
“Nanamin is dependable?”
Gojo gasped dramatically, one hand flying to his mouth. "So, not only do I not look good with her, but I also don't seem dependable enough?" He turned to you with the most aghast expression. “Tell me that isn’t true—”
You shot him a withering look, deadpanning, “Actually, you might be.”
And Gojo clutched his chest, letting out an anguished cry.
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Epilogue
“Satoru… come on, you know I was joking.”
Your dramatic ass of a husband had his head on your lap, hugging your torso tight. The pout on his face hadn’t faded a bit ever since he was done with his class, and now on your marital bed, he was clinging to you with all of his might.
He shook his head petulantly, clicking his tongue. “You’ve embarrassed me in front of my students. You’re so mean!”
You sighed. “I’m sure you have made a fool out of yourself far often. This is insignificant.”
“Hmph! How could you say that?! I don't care if it's me, but I can't believe that it's coming from you! I shower you with my undivided love each and every day!”
“Yeah, yeah…”
Somehow seeing him like this made your heart lurch. He reminded you so much of your baby boy who was sleeping right in the next room that you couldn't resist smiling and pinching his cheeks.
“Okay, okay. My husband is handsome, looks good with me and definitely someone I can rely on,” you relented, and like a lightbulb going off, Satoru suddenly beamed so wide that you were certain his cheeks hurt.
“That’s more like it! Now, now, there’s only one way that can prove how responsible I am! Let me just fill you up with another baby—”
You smacked him on the head.
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monster-disaster · 1 year ago
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[wolf-shifter] Rome
wolf-shifter!Rome x human!Reader Good to know: somnophilia, non-con, breeding, rut Summary: Your best friend can't keep himself away from you anymore.
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"Did I wake you up?" Your words are slurred when you break the silence of the quiet flat. The only sound is the traffic from the streets, filtering inside through the closed windows. A few cars pass by every now and again. Their engine rumbles through the air, echoing off the buildings.
Your back is against the wall next to the entrance door as your best friend kneels in front of you, trying to take off your shoes with a slight frown between his brows. His thick fingers can barely handle the delicate clasps.
"It's fine," he hums, pushing the shoes aside. "I told you to call me if you need me."
"Thank you," you reply, tilting your head back when he stands up and towers above you. Your makeup is a bit smudged around your eyes as you blink up at him sleepily. "You are a good friend, Rome. I love you."
The man just smirks at your words, tucking you against his side to lead you into his room. He knows the drill by now. You go out with your co-workers, drink more than you can handle, and call him to take you home. He helps you, of course, while listening to you repeat how much you love him until you fall asleep.
"I love you too, sweetheart," he replies, opening the door of his room and leading you inside until you sit on the edge of his bed. Your posture is relaxed and tired. You don't even move a muscle when you feel him starting to take off your clothes.
"Arms up," he says, and when you do, he pulls up your top until it's on a chair nearby. It smells like your perfume, smoke, and alcohol.
"Do you want a shower?" Rome asks even though he already knows your answer.
"'m tired," you hum, letting your eyes close while you are still in a sitting position.
"Of course," the man chuckles.
While he searches for a shirt you can sleep in, he can't help but let his eyes wander on your almost bare body. Your tits fill the bra into a nice cleavage, and your panties match.
"Hold up your arms for a second, sweetheart," he says quietly, feeling a bit annoyed when the thin fabric hides your body from his dark gaze.
"You can lay down now," he adds, helping you onto his bed and tucking you in. By the time he straightens up, you are already asleep.
Rome has known you since he moved into the city. You met at a coffee shop where you worked after college. He knew you were the one him after a glance and a sniff in the air heavy with the scent of coffee and you. It was love at first sight, except you put him into a friend zone, and Rome never figured out how to get out of it without ruining your friendship. So he stayed in that damn zone, hoping that one day you will confess his love for him or he will grow some balls to tell you the truth. Pathetic really.
After making sure the lock of his entrance door is closed and putting a big glass of water next to you on the nightstand, he climbs onto the bed, trying to focus on anything else but your closeness. You are bundled up in the blanket so much he can barely see the top of your head, and your light snores are muffled by the thick fabric.
His brothers would laugh at him for sure. Their little brother can't get the girl, so he has to wake up next to her with blue balls. How funny. They would never let this go. Idiots. All of them.
He glances at you one last time. He is, too.
Sleep takes him after a while, but his dreams are heavy and troubled. When he wakes up, it's almost morning. The sun is still hiding behind the horizon, but it's there. He turns on his back and groans. His gums ache and burns, his mouth open to lift the pressure off his teeth. Sweat glistens on his heated body. His fingers dig into the mattress under him, feeling his claws wanting to grow out. And his cock. He closes his eyes tightly to keep a pained moan in his chest. It's hard and heavy between his thighs. His erection pulses with each breath he takes, and his underwear is already ruined by the precum soaking the black fabric.
"Fuck," he grunts, sitting up on the edge of the bed. He has a hard time making his tense muscles move. The wooden ground feels cold under him. His skin feels too tight and too itchy.
Rome circles his broad shoulders backward a few times before standing up to get to the kitchen for some water. And maybe he should go out for a run. Yes. Some fresh air would definitely do some good.
The man is almost at the door of his room when you turn on your back on the bed, still sleeping. His eyes rake over your body under the covers. He almost forgot you were there. He was so busy with his wolf wanting to come out he didn't even notice you until now. But now, he can't tear his gaze away from you. You are so peaceful and pretty. Your hair is a mess, and your makeup is smeared around your closed eyes even more than last night.
"Fuck," Rome groans again. You shouldn't be here. Not when his rut is approaching and the wolf in him claws on the inside of his mind to get out.
He should force himself to walk away and call an Uber for you. He should wake you up and make you leave. Or at least, he should force himself out of the room. You shouldn't be here so beautiful and soft while his cock throbs with the need to fill you up.
Images of you pliant and warm in his arms flood his mind. How would you feel under his hands? Under his tongue? Around his...
Rome stares at your chest for long seconds, watching you breathe. You are deep asleep. You always black out when you drink too much.
He steps closer.
His large hands curl into fists.
Another step to the bed.
He shouldn't.
"Fuck."
The change of his body comes naturally and quickly. His skeleton transforms into something more primal, with firm muscles and dark fur all over his skin. He grows taller and stronger. The ache in his body lessens, but his cock between his legs still bobs angrily with each step he takes to the bed to get closer to your sleeping form. His claws grip the blanket, pulling it down from the bed slowly and carefully. He drops it to the ground, keeping his eyes on your bare legs. His t-shirt barely hides your panties, and he can see your nipples harden at the sudden change of temperature.
For a second, his attention wanders up to your face. Your eyes are still closed, and your breath is even. The man climbs up on the bed. The mattress dips under his weight. He hovers above your sleeping form, almost frozen. You can wake up at any minute, and there is no way he can explain the situation without you freaking out.
But it's too little and too late.
Taking a deep breath, his hand moves to his aching cock, his long fingers curling around the thick shaft. A groan escapes his open mouth, his long tongue lick over his upper teeth. His eyes wander down on your body, pausing at your soft tits and hard nipples before falling to your covered mound. His grip tightens on his erection, precum leaking from the dark pink tip. He throbs in his own hand, urging him to do something.
He saw you like this several times since you know each other. You are comfortable showing some skin even though it drives him crazy under the surface. The memories almost make him angry. So many times, he imagined you under him, moaning and crying for him while you were totally unaware of his desires and demons.
Releasing his cock, he reaches out for you. His touch is gentle and warm on your knees, gliding up on the soft flesh of your thigh. When you open your legs, he almost jumps back and out of the bed. Rome snaps his eyes up to your face again. You are still asleep.
It's so wrong on so many levels.
Now, that your legs are open, he can see the slit of your pussy through the thin fabric. Drool drips down from his mouth at the plump sight.
Maybe it's enough, he tries to convince himself. Just jerking off on the view of your cunt is enough until you wake up and go home. You won't know anything about it, and life can go on as usual. It's a lie, and the beast in him knows it.
His hand is on you again, caressing your thigh before sliding up to your panties. It's soft under his touch but does nothing but annoy him. His thumb moves between your legs, feeling the heat of your pussy on his own skin. His heart beats in his throat as he watches. Your clit is under his thumb, drawing small circles on the bud.
Rome doesn't have to wait long to feel your arousal in the air. It's thick and heavy, making him and his cock drool some more.
"Fuck!" He groans. His snout fidgets as he takes deep breaths from your scent. "You smell so good."
He moves closer, slowly, tentatively. He lifts his weight onto his arms at the sides of your body. His eyes are on your face again, watching you sleep while his nose almost bumps against your mound. A low groan rumbles in his chest. You are so close. So delicious. His tongue rolls out of his mouth, licking through your center over the fabric covering it. You are wet. He licks over your slit until your panties are soaked with your juices and his saliva. It sticks to your plump pussy.
"Let's take it down," he hums, hooking his long fingers on the side of your panties to pull it down and reveal your most intimate part. Your cunt glistens under the street lights that filter into his bedroom through the window.
The wolf-shifter's world spins around him once, twice, three times as he leans closer again. His snout rubs against your clit, taking deep breaths of your heavy smell. He lost control over his own body a long time ago.
"So pretty," he murmurs. Saliva drips down onto your wet center as he hovers above you. The sight fills him with satisfaction. You will smell like him. You will be marked by him. "You have such a pretty pussy, sweetheart."
Almost bursting with anticipation, he slides his tongue between your folds, lapping up your juices. When he flicks your clit, you moan into the dark room, making him freeze for long seconds. The sound escaping your mouth is hoarse and oh, so delicious. Your smell gets stronger in the air, but you don't move.
"Just a little bit more," he whispers, almost begging. He slurps on your pussy hurriedly, trying to suffocate himself in your cunt. His tongue finds your entrance, pushing inside your hot channel. He can feel you fluttering around his tongue, sucking him in for more. His whole body trembles as his muscles tense. Every nerve in his body is focused on you. Your smell and taste drive him deeper and deeper to the point he can't back away.
His cock hangs heavy between his thighs, leaking. His balls feel too tight, and his hips start to rock back and forth every now and again to find some friction. The knot at the base of his shaft grows with each second he spends between your thighs, munching on your cunt.
Biting off his own claw, he turns his attention back to your empty hole. His tongue slides into you easily. You are pulsing and fluttering until he adds his finger to stretch you out some more. For a second, you tense up, moaning again before continuing to sleep. He almost laughs. He could fuck you. You wouldn't wake up.
He almost cums when you clench around him. He scoops up your nectar with his tongue, gulping to burn the memory of your taste in his mind. Your breathing gets heavier, and a small, barely noticeable tremble runs through your body as you reach your climax. With his free hand, Rome has to squeeze his cock to stop him from shooting his seed all over you and the bed.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he groans, keeping his fingers in you, feeling your still squeezing walls. "Can you do that again? Could you cum on my cock, hm? Are you ready for it?"
It's madness.
He climbs above you, pushing your legs apart to have enough space for his slim waist between your thighs. His erection rubs against your folds, mixing his pre-cum and your juices together.
"God," he groans. "Fuck! So good, sweetheart. Your cunt is so warm. She wants me, love. She wants my cock inside. You know it, too."
Grabbing his erection, he adjusts the bulbous tip to your entrance before starting to push inside. He growls at the feeling of you enveloping him. You are warm and wet and perfect. His balls jerk and his knot pulses.
"That's it," he groans. "You are doing so good, sweetheart."
"Rome?" Your voice feels like cold water. His name on your lips is thick with sleep and confusion. "What? What are you doing?" Your question ends in a moan when he doesn't stop. He pushes his cock inside you entirely, stretching you out and filling you up.
"Shh, sweetheart," he grunts, panting. "It's okay."
"Rome?" Panic laces your voice. "Rome! Stop!"
"I can't," Rome replies, shaking his head, licking up on the side of your neck. Your palms seem small on his broad chest as you try to push him away while he still rocking back and forth inside you.
"Enough! Rome!"
"Shh," he tries to calm you again. His mind is dizzy with the feeling of you around him. Tight and warm, clenching with every movement you make. Your trashing under him almost breaks his cock off, but damn his whole life if he stops. "It's okay, love. Your pussy wants it."
"What? No! It's wrong!"
"No!" He growls. "It's not! I should have made you mine a long time ago!"
Despite your panic and anger, a moan escapes your lips when he thrusts inside you. Your pussy clenches around his shaft, soaking his erection. Rome reaches every sweet spot in you, driving you higher and higher.
"So good, sweetheart," he coos. His words fan over the side of your neck. "You feel it too, right? My cock stretches your tiny pussy. You squeeze on me so tight, I can barely move."
"Rome!" You moan his name, your fingers dig into the hard muscles of his shoulder. Your legs curl around his waist to keep him close. Pleasure flares through your body even though you know it's wrong.
"And you taste so good, love," he grunst into your neck. Your skin is wet from his drooling. "I ate your pussy while you slept," he admits. "I drank up your juices. You got wet so easily. Your pussy knew it was me."
They shouldn't, but his words fuel you more. Your hips move under him, meeting his thrust as your back arches from the bed.
"Rome! Please! Fuck!"
Seeing you so responsive wakes up something primal inside him. You want him, he thinks, shocked. You want his cock, his warm cum. His mark. He almost shouts with pain when he forces himself to kneel up and leave your warm channel.
"Turn around," he says but doesn't wait for your reaction. Grabbing your hips, he turns you on your stomach, tugging you into a kneeling position. Your ass rubs against his cock while he hovers above you and pushes your head down on the bed.
"Present yourself for me, sweetheart," he groans, rutting against your bottom. "Show me how much you want my cock like a good bitch."
"Rome," you cry his name, screaming when he enters into your pussy again. His hold is firm and hard on your hips as he keeps you in place against his pounding. He fucks your pussy with newfound vigor. Your juices flow down on your thighs, dripping onto the bed.
"Fuck!" Rome groans. "Your pussy is so good to me, sweetheart. She knows what she wants, and it's my cock. She wants me to fill her up and soak her with my seed."
His words clear your mind for a second. Your fingers grip onto the blanket under you. "Wait! Rome! Don't! I don't…!"
"It's okay, love," Rome groans, still fucking you. "You don't have to worry. I will take care of you and our pup. I will fuck your cunt until you are round with my child. I want to see your tits grow with milk and your stomach with our pup. Maybe I will always keep you pregnant and ripe."
Tears run down your cheek from pleasure and fear. Your body and your mind tell different things, and you can do nothing because of the spinning world around you. Your walls flutter around his cock, your stomach tightens into a burning coil.
"Take my knot, love," he demands. "Let me fuck my mate pregnant. Let me have this, love. Just open up your pussy for me, and I will do the rest."
There is no way you can fight against him. His hold on you is too strong and tight, while your limbs feel like jelly. He bullies your cock, filling you up to the brim.
Rome's whole world narrows down on your sweet hole as he forces his knot inside your wet pussy. Every nerve in his body bursts with pleasure when he is inside you fully, and he can't move without tugging and pushing you with the rhythm of his hips pounding your hole.
His growl shakes the walls as he cums inside you. He shoots into your hole several times until, even through the barrier of his knot, some still escapes your pussy.
"Ohgod!" You cry, shaking and jerking. Your eyes roll back into your skull as you reach your climax. You suck Rome for every drop of his cum he can give you. Your pussy aches and burns so deliciously that you can do nothing, but rock back against him for more. His chuckle is hoarse next to your ears when he notices what you are doing.
"It's 'kay, love," he hums, still keeping his weight on his arms. "My rut will keep me going for a while longer before I'm done with you."
"What?" You gasp, breathless. "We are not done?"
"Didn't you hear me?" He hums, pushing inside you more if it's even possible. "I won't stop until you are with my pup."
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neolithicsheep · 3 months ago
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I've been meaning to write this down for some time because there are some fundamental errors that people keep making in crowdfunding/sales that shoot their campaigns in the foot. So here's a list of easy principles.
Who am I and why should you listen to me? I am a freelance chaos marketer who has raised well over $100,000 when totaling up various crowdfunding campaigns, mostly for aid to Afghanistan. In addition I've managed to successfully market everything from stuffed plush koalas to hydration salts. Why am I putting this out here for free? Because despite a years long track record of success in social media marketing no one will hire me because I don't have a college degree, so I might as well help people out who can't afford to hire full time marketing. 
If you'd like to hire me to help you evaluate your marketing and sales and teach you better skills on a 1 to 1 basis then hit me up, I am often willing to barter, esp with artists in a variety of mediums! 
Anyway on to HOW TO CONVINCE PEOPLE TO GIVE YOU MONEY:
TL;DR: use positive messaging that humanizes everyone involved and make it as easy as possible for people to give you money.
1. Shame and guilt are demotivators. They will not inspire people to give you money. “Why aren't people helping” “I guess people don't care” “This isn't getting enough shares/donations” etc etc. Online fundraising is often frustrating, heartbreaking, and will make you angry, especially when there's a humanitarian crisis involved. It is critical that if you are raising funds for someone else that you have a place to vent that is not the audience you would like to donate to the cause. 
2. Use motivating messages instead! “You can help!” “Even a small donation is important because it tells Recipient they're not alone, and people care” “We can't fix the whole world, but we can make this one thing right, and that means something”. Emphasize that this is a problem that the reader can help fix with even a small effort. With items for sale, tell a story. "I drew this thinking about how safe I always felt under a tree in my childhood backyard". "I chose the colors in this shawl to remind me of sagebrush and piñon pine in my favorite place."
3. Make it easy for people to give you money. Never talk about your product or cause without a link that leads directly to where people can give you money. They should be able to click one link on your post and land at the fundraiser or your shop. Every required click is going to lose people, so minimize the number of them required. This also means if you have a list of fundraisers for people to choose from the ones at the bottom will be neglected - people will hit the ones at the top. Be sure to take those off when they're met or periodically shuffle the list around to make sure everyone gets a chance to be in the first 5 spots. In online stores people will often only look at the first page or two of items so be sure to shuffle things around and remove out of stock items that are taking up prime real estate.
4. Humanize the recipient - this can be tricksy when raising charitable aid because you don't want to be exploitative. But to use my last Afghan campaign as an example, “We need to raise $500 for an Afghan family” is less effective than “This Afghan family's home was damaged in heavy rains that caused extensive flooding. They only need $500 to repair and rebuild so they can stay in their home and not become displaced.”  If possible, tell as much of the recipient's story as they consent to. Eg “Fred is seven and loves dinosaurs. His favorite is brontosaurus, and he carries a stuffed one with him everywhere. He wants to be a paleontologist when he grows up and discover a complete brontosaurus skeleton that he can give the same name as his stuffed friend. Unfortunately he's also a trans boy living in Texas and his family needs $1500 to rent a Uhaul and get to Colorado so he can grow up in safety and do that.”
5. If you're not the recipient, humanize yourself while you're at it! “I'd be really grateful if you all could share or donate” “This fundraiser really means a lot to me because…” “Thank you so much for any help, whether sharing or donating” 
6. Treat the audience like humans. Speak to them like they are people you're having a conversation with, not ATMs. This ultimately is the goal of not using shame/guilt and humanizing yourself and the recipient. 
7. Set low goals and bump them up when met. One of the weird things about people is they prefer to give to successful fundraisers. Yeah I don't know either. So you're more likely to get the full amount you need if you set a partial goal initially and then raise it when that's met. Raise it in small increments and raise it repeatedly as those goals are hit to keep momentum going. You can't always control this so if you're boosting someone else's fundraiser you can do it artificially via asks like “Hey y'all can we get together and put $500 on this?”
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sagi-tori-ous · 7 months ago
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Simon Riley aka Ghost has returned home from work— his muscles sore and fingers cramped from the drills he had to teach the subordinates. It's not unusual, more so common than not seeing his position. He was passionate about his job, you could tell the way Simon Riley put his all into it, day in and day out.
Yet, that wasn't the only thing he was passionate about...nor was it the only thing he put his all into.
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"f-fuck~" you moan out, hands slipping on the smooth marble counter, fingers scratching at the surface as your pushed forward. An ache settling in your mid abdomen from the counter being pressed against it.
"mhm..." Ghost groans, palming your right ass cheek before delivering a loud smack to it, "just like that," he encourages whilst his hips slam against your backside, slithering the same hand up to encircle your engorged hips, "take it just like that."
The deep velvety tone of his voice does nothing to help the slick trail dampening your inner thighs and lubricating you where you needed it the most.
With each push and pull you could feel the knot in your stomach growing— the pressure building up is unbearable in the best way.
You lean on your pointed toes, driving yourself farther up the counter in an attempt to put some distance between you and the pleasure.
"too much.." You whimper when your stomach starts to cave and your legs start to shake.
Ghost is quick to grab the back of your neck, pulling you back until you settle against his chest.
clicking his tongue, "you were doing so good." You hear him mumble closely to your right ear, lips brushing against your lobe "you want me to stop?" He questions rhetorically, settling into a slower pace.
"No!" You shake your head hastily—you never wanted him to stop—you try to push your pelvis back against his throbbing cock but the hand on your hip halts your movements.
A tremble sets into your body as you feel him pull all the way out until your pussy could only flutter against the tip.
"No?" He questions, circling the hand on the back of your neck to the front, grasping it firmly and angling your face towards his, "but you said too much." He teases, easing only a portion of his cock into your sopping cunt.
A chill slides down your spine at his dark unwavering gaze, "don't stop." You whine, desperation painting your face.
Ghost looks at you expectantly— he wasn't one to give commands to, if you wanted something you had to ask, or beg.
"please!" Your ass impatiently wiggles against his lower half but you couldn't back up enough to get what you craved, "please, I'm sorry! Please don't stop!" You beg him shamelessly, apologizing without reason.
Your body suddenly lurches forward, breath catching in your throat as he impales you with his cock, a groan leaving his lips as your cunt greedily welcomes him back.
"Then stop running."
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𝐃𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: @deunmiu-dessie (I'm taking my ass to sleep friend but I owed you🩵)
𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫/𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫: @cafekitsune @pwixi
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always-just-red · 1 month ago
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A multi-headcanon request please. How the boys react when they discover their s/o has been hiding a wound from them because she had it under control and didn't want to give them something else to worry about
Hi! Thanks so much for the request and all the support! Have written a little fic for each of the guys, starring... - Xavier, Deepspace Hunter extraordinaire ✨ - Linkon's worst best baking partner, Zayne 🍪 - Drama queen Rafayel 👑 - King of self-care, Sylus 💅
Putting On A Brave Face
L&DS Boys x Reader
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Summary: Sometimes, a certain hunter likes to say things are fine when they definitely aren't...
Genre: A lil bit of angst, mostly fluff + comfort!
Warnings/Additional tags: female reader, established relationship, swearing, canon pet names, some injury details/blood mentioned, teeeeency bit of suggestion (I'm looking at YOU, Sylus...)
| Word count: 4k (1k each!) | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
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Xavier ⭐
This is bad. Not ‘end of everything as we know it’ bad, but definitely ‘an obscene amount of paperwork’ bad.
You clutch one of your pistols to your chest— deep breath— and you listen carefully, your head leant back against the rock you’re using as cover. Your mind latches on to every sound: each growl, each rumble of earth that marks the movements of the Wanderers that have trapped you here.
You’ve fought worse odds, but then again, you don’t usually have to do it with a broken leg.
Or maybe just sprained? You shift a little, trying to move, and the pain that sears through you settles the debate in an instant. Your teeth sink into the back of your hand to keep you from crying out.
You hope Xavier’s ok. You sent him your co-ordinates minutes ago, and the lack of response has worry gnawing away at the deepest parts of you. You check your hunter’s watch.
Still nothing.
Another deep breath, and you readjust your position as much as you can. Balancing on your good leg, you manage to peer over the top of the rock to get a visual of your surroundings.
There’s four, no— five Wanderers. Stupid no-hunt zone; you’re never not outnumbered.
You can see your second pistol, abandoned in the middle of the clearing where you’d dropped it. There’s flickers of movement, too: further in the woods. More Wanderers. Shit.
You duck behind the rock you’re starting to think might be your new home. Then your watch flickers, broadcasting a map of the area, and there’s the co-ordinates of another hunter, closing in fast.
Something flashes in the clearing, lighting the dark of the forest like a stutter of lightning. Then again. Then again. There’s a blood-curdling roar, and it ends— abrupt— with another flash.
Everything goes silent, save for a familiar voice calling your name.
“Xavier!” you call back.
You peek over the rock to see your partner jogging towards you, dead Wanderers littered behind him. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft as always, but his sword is still dripping blood.
“I’m ok.” You clamber up, using the rock as a seat when the small effort almost breaks you. “You?”
Xavier draws close— his gloved hands on your face, cupping your cheeks. His thumb grazes over a shallow scrape on your brow. “Yeah,” he answers.
“Did you find that weird Wanderer?”
He shakes his head: no. Steps back to check his watch. “It’s probably moved on to a different zone by now.”
“Then we should look for it,” you say, standing up. All of your weight is on one leg.
“Ah,” Xavier ponders, rubbing his neck, “really? I thought we should maybe head back.”
“No need.” And what’s the plan here, exactly? You can’t walk. You definitely can’t fight. Maybe you can wait here while he— no. He’s never going to leave you. “I told you I’m ok.”
“But you’re not.”
“I am,” you assert. You’re determined to convince him and your own, useless body. It’s just a sprain. It is just a sprain. You take a step forwards and stumble, your bad leg crumpling beneath you.
Xavier catches you, strong and solid, and he's holding you like you’re something delicate. He sets you down on the rock again. The pain is making your vision swim.
“You’re hurt,” he reasons gently, even though the truth of it is a knife that’s twisting in your heart. He seems to sense your reluctance: “There’s no shame in admitting that. It happens. Let’s go back.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m slowing you down, Xavier!” you gush. Your heart is split open and it has to bleed somewhere. “You have no idea what it’s like… being your partner.”
He’s looking at you with so much guilt and gods, you wish that somewhere was anywhere but his hands. “What do you mean?” he asks on a shaky breath.  
“I love working with you.” Soften the blow. “I love being with you, but you don’t need me. You’re this incredible hunter. This figure of legend, of everyone’s stories. You can do so much on your own and I just don’t know how to keep up. I mean, look at me— I can’t.”
You feel sick. Empty. “You shouldn’t have to hang back for me,” you finish limply. “You’re you, Xavier. You can fight like a hundred Wanderers and still come out unscathed.”
The blue of Xavier’s eyes has grown understandably more turbulent, though it settles a little. He seems to relax. “Yeah… about that,” he mumbles hesitantly.
He turns around and your mouth drops. A savage cut drapes like a crimson sash down his back, splitting the white of his uniform. It’s not deep enough to be fatal, but it’s not good, either.
“Wha— Xavier!” you exclaim, trying to surge forwards, but your pain keeps you rooted. “You said you were ok!”
“So did you,” he frowns, bewildered. “Can we get out of—”
“Yeah, yeah.” You let him take your arm and help you to your feet.
He leads you through the clearing and into the forest, supporting your weight as you hop along beside him. There’s a murmur about how he should carry you, but you’re quick to reassure him he’s doing enough. You’re both hurting; you both just need to survive the short walk out of the no-hunt zone, where a med team can take over.
“You don’t slow me down, you know,” Xavier says quietly, after a minute of silence. “You’re the reason I can keep going.”
You squeeze his arm affectionately, mustering a smile even though you’re nauseous with pain and the idea that he’s been dwelling on your speech this whole time. “Well,” you chuckle through gritted teeth, “you’re gonna have to learn how to get by without me.”
“Huh?” He gives you a curious look.
You glance down at your leg. “Zayne’s gonna kill me...”
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Zayne ❄
“I’m a doctor.”
You stop what you’re doing to fix Zayne with a questioning stare. “Ok…?”
“I’ve published dozens of research papers. Pioneered new surgical techniques. My work on Evol-based regenerative properties still has lasting implications for my field, and I’ve the accolades to show for it. The Starcatcher Award. The Linde Award, too— I was the youngest ever recipient.”
None of this is news to you, and you can’t help chuckling at this change in your usually-humble physician. You humour him: “The youngest ever recipient, huh?” There’s a crack as you split an egg on the side of the bowl in front of you. “That’s very impressive.”
“Is it?”
Zayne stands from his seat at your kitchen table: you hear the chair draw back. You feel his presence arrive behind you as you continue to stir your soon-to-be cookie dough. “Yeah,” you lilt with a smile.
“Really?” he pushes again, and his arms wrap around you as he bends to speak into your ear. “Because someone seems to think I can’t even recognise a—” he nips at it— “sprained ankle.”
His breath is warm on your neck and you let out a giggle. “Keep speaking to me like that and these cookies are never making it into the oven. Or your stomach.”
The man relents. He releases you, not returning to his seat but opting to lean against the kitchen counter instead. You glance up at him; he stares back, waiting for an actual answer.
“My ankle is fine, Zayne.”
There’s a sigh as he crosses his arms.
“It is,” you insist, even though you did sprain your ankle at work today, it does hurt like hell, and you do just want to sit down. You reach for the flour you’d measured out previously, tipping it into the larger bowl. “If it wasn’t, would I really be here— making you cookies?”
“Yes,” he says plainly.
“You’re delusional.”
“Ok.”  
Well, that was a little too easy. Don’t overthink it, and definitely don’t read into the fact that he’s standing there oh-so-smugly, like he knows something you don’t. You finish stirring the flour into the mixture, then add the last of the ingredients. Just a pinch of salt, and then…
Where did you put the chocolate chips? You glance about yourself but they’re nowhere in sight. “Hey, Zayne? Have you seen the—”
“This cupboard,” he indicates with an upwards nod of his head. His eyes are relentless. “Top shelf.”
Ah. That’s ok. You’ve totally got this. You move beneath the cupboard, opening it and gazing up into the contents. You can see the pack of chocolate chips. You can get up there somehow, right?
“Would you like me to—” Zayne starts, but you cut him off:
“Nope.” You put your hands on your hips. “Please— if I can climb the back of an alive, awake, and very angry deluge wyrmlord to put a sword through its skull, I think I can make it onto the kitchen counter in one piece. Lemme just…”
Your knee lifts. You make it about a centimetre from the floor before Zayne’s hands are on your waist, grounding you. “Stop,” he instructs, and it's not a tone that allows for any rebuttal. Satisfied by your silence, he brings the chocolate chips down to you.
“Thanks,” you say quietly as they’re placed on the counter.
“You’re welcome."
Sheepishly, you spill a generous amount of chocolate chips into the cookie mixture. Your throat hurts in the way that keeps you from saying anything more. You already feel like an idiot, and your eyes are watering, threatening to make you look like even more of one.
Zayne’s hand appears in front of you, hovering over the bowl. You laugh in understanding: giving the half-empty bag another shake so chocolate chips fall into his palm.
“You… don’t have to explain yourself,” he says as he lifts them to his mouth. His next words are muffled: “But you can tell me anything, my love. I never want you to feel as though you can’t.”
You chuckle again; you can’t help yourself. Look at him: your oh-so-serious doctor shovelling chocolate into his mouth. He raises an eyebrow at you, his lips still on his palm.
“I know I can tell you anything,” you smile, the ache in your throat receding, however much the rest of you hurts. “I did sprain my ankle. It’s not that I wanted to hide it from you, it’s just—” you stop stirring the mixture— “it’s just that your whole life is taking care of people at the hospital. You should get a break from it. You should get to be Zayne, here… at home. Just Zayne, not Doctor Zayne.”
Zayne’s hazel eyes have taken on a hue of regret. He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, buying himself a few seconds as he contemplates. “Are you a doctor?” he asks after a moment.
“No?”
“And yet, here you are, taking care of me.” He reaches for the abandoned packet of chocolate chips. “Tell me, does it feel like work to you?”
“Yeah,” you tease, drawing the packet away from his stretching fingers in explanation; you’re both grinning.
“Well, it never feels like work to me. Just Zayne likes taking care of you. And right now? He wants to bundle you up on the sofa and finish these cookies for you.”
You purse your lips: that’s some dubious wording. “Zayne, hell will freeze over before I leave you and this cookie dough unsupervised.”
He shushes you, pulling on the cord of your apron until the bow at your back comes loose. Before you can protest, he’s wearing the apron himself.
“Zayne, I’m not kidding. I know what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna get rid of me, and then you’ll—”
“Shh,” he coos again, whisking you carefully off your feet, because it’s time for a taste of your own medicine. “You’re delusional.”
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Rafayel 🔥
“Mmhmm. Mmhmm.”
“Raf, who are you—”
He holds out a finger to shush you. “Mmhmm.”
You cross your arms impatiently. Who is he even talking to, anyway? His lilac eyes are locked on you as he continues humming away, apparently very invested in whatever the person on the phone is saying; you’ve never seen him go this long without talking.
He narrows his eyes at you. You narrow your eyes right back.
All around you, guests of the exhibition are milling about, all dressed to the nines and minding their business, however much they want the attention of the man in front of you. A few of them linger as they pass him, like they want to say something, like they’re going to say something…
But they don’t.
It’s a wonder that Rafayel stands out in the crowd as much as he does. You’d seamlessly located him, back from your third trip to the bathroom to check on the bandages you’ve managed to conceal beneath this dress. He’s still holding your purse for you, his phone in his other hand, except—
That’s your phone. That’s your phone! “Rafayel!”
He shushes you again. “I understand,” he says solemnly, notably not to you, “thanks for letting me know.” The call is ended. He takes a deep, collected breath, then looks at you. “I knew it!”
“Knew what? Who was that?”
“Zayne.”
“You called Zayne?”
“Like I had a choice!” Rafayel retaliates. It is true; he’s spent the entire evening trying to get you to admit something was wrong, and you had no intention of giving him that pleasure. “You’re supposed to be in the hospital! What kind of idiot breaks out of the hospital?”
The lack of irony in the question almost breaks you. “Umm… you?! Like every other week?!”
He shrugs. “That’s different.”
“Rafayel, I swear, I’m gonna— ah!” you gasp in pain. You’d stepped forwards too quickly— maybe to strangle him, but that’s neither here nor there— and the wound on your side is clearly on his side. It stings like hell: punishing you, and you know the pain is self-inflicted.
Rafayel frowns in concern, maybe even guilt, and that’s why you didn’t tell him. “C’mon, we should go,” he insists gravely.
“It’s fine, Raf. It doesn’t even—”
“Stop lying! You said you wouldn’t hide stuff like this from me. You promised, remember?”
You’re losing track of all the promises you’ve made to the Lemurian, but you do remember that one. Guilt has its teeth in you, too. “I know,” you grumble, “I’m sorry, ok? I just knew—”
“What?”
“That you’d act like this! You’ve been working on this exhibition for months, Raf. Tonight is supposed to be about you. Not me— you. And I want it to stay that way. Everyone’s here to celebrate you and your work, and that’s how it should be. That’s what I want. To support you. To be here for you.”
Your voice has gone timid. You finish meekly: “Can’t you let me do this for you? Please?”
Rafayel’s eyes are wide and still the prettiest things you’ve ever seen, even in a room full of masterpieces and jewels you could never afford. They shine with uncertainty, but soften as he smiles, full of fondness and affection. “That’s sweet. But also? Really dumb.”
“Raf—”
“The only— and I mean only— reason I’m here tonight is because you are. I don’t care about what anyone thinks about me or my paintings. Just you. And you can see this?” He gestures around the gallery. “Anytime. My life’s your private exhibition, cutie. Exclusive access, 24/7, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
He steps closer to you: close enough that he can see the tear that’s made it halfway down your cheek. He wipes it away with a chuckle. “Plus,” he adds, “I know you know I’m amazing. You don’t need these old sourpusses to tell you that, do you?”
You laugh tentatively. “No, I don’t.”
Your injury protests as you use the lapels on Rafayel’s blazer to pull him closer; you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He’s still grinning as he draws away, a light blush on his cheeks, but the sweetness of the moment vanishes as his gaze drifts lower.
“My eyes are up here, Rafayel.”
“Yeah…” he concedes mindlessly, but then he points: “you know you’re like, bleeding, right?”
You glance downwards to where the red of your dress is turning darker. There’s just a small splotch, but it’s growing. Shit. You must have reopened the wound.
“Thomas?” you hear Rafayel call, and then he’s stuffing a silk handkerchief into your hands— helping you apply pressure. “We have to get out of here,” he explains as a figure joins you.
His agent folds his arms; this is not dissimilar to stunts you and Rafayel have pulled before. “Fake blood, guys? Really?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can’t leave, Rafayel. I can just see the headlines tomorrow…”
“Dashing artist selflessly flees exhibition to save devoted bodyguard,” Rafayel concurs with a nod.
Thomas groans. “That’s not what they’re going to—”
“Help me out with this, cutie?”
“Yes, sir,” you mock salute.
A moment later, Rafayel has scooped you up into his arms. Your hero; he gives you a conspiratorial wink before glancing about frantically. “Quickly!” he cries out. “Everyone out of the way, please!”
“For the love of—” Thomas starts.
“Oh, gods!” you shout in agony. “It hurts. It hurts!”
Heads turn. Cameras flash.
Tomorrow morning, half of Linkon will be talking about one of their favourite celebrities and his long-envied bodyguard. A news article will pop-up on her doctor’s phone, and he’ll see the pictures and sigh.
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Sylus 🩸
“It’s not too late to back down, sweetie,” Sylus sneers.
“Aw, but you got all dressed up for the occasion.”
Your eyes rake over the outline of the man’s abs, courtesy of the tank top he’s wearing, and it does take the sting out of the fact that he’ll be trying to hit you. He holds his wrapped hands before him, ready to defend, ready to attack. He’ll probably attack, right?
“Last chance,” he growls.
“Is it, though?” This is the third ‘last chance’ you’ve been given in the five minutes you’ve been teetering on combat. You beckon him with a curl of your fingers. “Come on, Sylus. This is getting old.”
He scoffs: “How do you think I feel?”
“Like you’re about to get your ass kicked?”
“Alright, enough.” His hands drop and it feels like you’re back at the academy, about to be scolded for not taking something seriously. Sylus turns his back on you. Moves to the edge of the boxing ring so he can retrieve a stool from outside of it and sit down in a huff. He starts peeling the wraps from his knuckles, and— wait, is he mad? Like, actually mad?
“What’s wrong, Sy?”
He laughs as though you’re missing something dreadfully obvious. Maybe irony.
“Sylus?”
“You really are heartless, sweetie. You know that?”
The words steal your breath away, if only for a moment. Yours is a relationship of pulled punches, but he won’t meet your gaze and that one was real, wasn’t it? He wanted it to sting. “Why—”
“I could have hurt you,” he snaps, his dishevelled, snowy hair falling to cover his eyes. His discarded wraps slide from his hands, pooling by his feet like blood. “You were going to let me hurt you.”
He looks at you, finally, but it’s not in the way you want. His gaze is cast low, trailing over your body and making you feel every bruise, every closed cut that wants to reopen and every ache, rooted almost to bone. You’d done your best to hide it, even going so far as to press make-up hastily over your purpled skin.
That Wanderer really did a number on you yesterday.  
“You should have told me,” Sylus says, since you’ve made it onto the same page. “Honestly, kitten. Why would you—”
“Because Luke and Kieran told me, ok?”
Oh, they’re going to kill you. It was supposed to be a secret, and here you are, spilling like a fresh wound because you can’t stand the thought of Sylus being upset with you. You step closer, scrambling to dissect what you’ve done right in front of his eyes— holding it out to him: this is why. This is why. “They said you had a rough week. Some deals of yours had fallen through or something. And I’ve been too busy. I haven’t called, I haven’t even texted, and…”
You need him to understand, but the truth is a mess in your hands and how do you even start to explain it to him?
“You wanted to do something for me,” he finishes for you, and you don’t have to explain a thing.
“Yeah…” you confirm, bittersweet and still sad. “You do so much for me, Sylus. I just wanted to do what you wanted, for a change.”
Maybe it’s a round of boxing. Maybe it’s a dozen illicit dealings where he needs you to play enforcer— it doesn’t matter. As long as he’s happy.
“Come here,” he orders gently.
You close the rest of the rift between you, letting him reach for you and pull you closer. His knees have spread so you can slot against him, and his arms circle around you— trapping you— as he nuzzles into the warmth of your stomach.
“I’m sorry I called you heartless,” he speaks into you, his voice muffled as he gives you a chaste kiss. He then cranes his head upwards, resting his chin against you so he can profess more clearly: “I do worry about you, kitten.”
“I know—” your hands move to his head— “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”
“Mmm,” he hums in accordance, maybe even forgiveness, and his eyes close as your fingers card through the soft of his hair. “I lied too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he confesses on a contented sigh. “I didn’t want to spend today… boxing.”
“What do you want to do today, Sy?”
His eyes flicker open and his hands find your hips. “What I really want…” he contemplates, as his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt to rub circles on your skin, “is to take care of you.”
There are lifetimes of need in his gaze.
“Won’t you let me take care of you, sweetie?”
“If he finds the terms so disagreeable, then he’s more than welcome to take his business elsewhere. Although—” Sylus’s voice is cold— “he might find his other options less… amenable than when he saw them last. Less communicative, too. You can tell him I said so.”
He ends the phone call. Smiles. “Sorry about that, sweetie.”
“Are the boys ok?”
The smile widens, even though you can’t see it. “They’re fine.”
Phone set aside, Sylus carries on with the important business Kieran’s call had distracted him from. You’re half asleep, your head in his lap as he brushes your hair: rose-scented and soft from the bath he’d drawn for you, hours ago. Every bandage is fresh and clean. Every ache has been dulled with a lazy massage and more chaste kisses, for good measure.
“Perfect day,” you mumble blissfully.
“Perfect day,” Sylus agrees.
2K notes · View notes
xinganhao · 20 days ago
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🪐 boy best friend!mingyu.
@tubasebongs → "I WOULD LIKE MINGYU CLINGY/POUTY BOY BEST FRIEND WHO LIKES YOU AND HE TRIES TO HIDE IT BUT FAILS AND STILL TOO PAINFULLY OBVIOUSLY 🙏🏻🙏🏻"
⌗ ┆threw in another trope because mingyu is childhood best friend coded (⋟﹏⋞) lost the ask in my inbox (i'm so sorry!!!) but i hope this still hits the mark :'-)
‧₊˚✩彡 includes: boy best friend!mingyu, childhood friend!mingyu, fluff fluff fluff!!!, cussing, pining/idiot in love/etc., confession -ish, headcanons under the cut.
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🪐 headcanons .ᐟ
because of course kim mingyu is the boy next door. your mothers are friends and that's how you meet him, how you essentially grow up with him, even. he's a lively kid— loud and sociable, fond of roughhousing and buying candy at the corner store.
mingyu is the type to have defended you on the playground, his little hands balled in to fists as he plants them at his hips. at the age of six, he's not really capable of inciting fear, but he'll damn well try. as early as then, he's already referring to you as 'my best friend.' "yah, that's my best friend!" "don't make my best friend cry!" "what did you say about my best friend?!"
mingyu's overbearingness wanes a bit as you grow up, as you begin to insist that you can fight your own battles. the title is the one thing that doesn't change. it doesn't matter if you go on to not be classmates anymore, if you run different circles. you are mingyu's best friend and he's yours.
it's a fact that mingyu makes abundantly clear to everyone he meets. hell, even strangers aren't spared by the casual ways in which he manages to bring you up. "excuse me, but your hat is really nice and i think my best friend would like it. may i know where you bought it?" "oh, my best friend loves that artist too!" "you think my shoes are nice? thank you, my best friend got it for me."
mingyu is the picture perfect cliché of the best friend. he lives to annoy you, to rile you up and test your patience, but he also knows you like the back of his hand. it's something that you reciprocate— the cat and dog fights belied only by the deep concern and consideration that you both undeniably have for each other.
if he's honest, mingyu isn't all too sure when things shifted. (the answer: somewhere around adolescence, on an unassuming weekend spent at an arcade.) he just found that he kept wanting a little more. wanted to annoy you a little more so you would keep looking his way. wanted to talk to you a little more so you would think of him, too. mingyu isn't sure when his feelings started, but he knows they're not about to end any time soon.
it drives mingyu absolutely insane, initially, because he's seen how these things go! he's sat through all your favorite romcoms, has idly watched his mother's weekly dramas. falling in love with your best friend only ends well in fiction. in real life, in his life? he's not so sure.
mingyu isn't about to start avoiding you, though. isn't going to run from his feelings like a bunch of other people do. you always say he's dramatic when he says so, but he's at least half-serious when he says he can't live without you. and so he gives himself a stern talking to, a set of rules to follow— he won't tell you. he won't put you in that position, where you have to choose. he'll just go about things as he always does.
and, most importantly: mingyu refuses to look at your friendship as a consolation prize. it is not a silver medal, not a second-best to a potential romantic relationship. it is the best thing, being your best friend, and he's not about to put that on the line.
one thing mingyu fails to take in to account: just how painfully obvious he is. he doesn't have to confess to you. it bleeds in to everything he says and does. everyone knows, from his family to his friends to your family. they're all not so sure, either, when the exactly mingyu went from just acting friendly to being at your every whim without you even asking, but it's as clear as day.
mingyu thinks he's slick. on the rare occasions he's called out, he'll scoff and deny. "me? in love with my best friend? that's crazy." deny, deny, deny. that's mingyu's game for years and years, until people just give up on asking and wait for one or the other: for him to crack or for you to notice.
being best friends with a mingyu who's hopelessly in love with you is a carousel of moments: a dozen pouty selfies a week, incessant texts blowing up your phone, facetime calls where he's drunk and whining to be picked up. and more: the smell of his cologne on almost all of your things, the passport photo of you that he keeps behind his clear phone case, a specific smile that he reserves for when you're not looking.
really, it's just like mingyu for his eventual confession to be unceremonious, unprompted. all it takes is for you to make one offhand joke (time for you to confess to me, kim mingyu) and for mingyu to take that just a little too seriously (holy shit, have i been that obvious).
mingyu thought he'd take this 'secret' to the grave, honestly. or maybe he'd bring it up when you're both old and gray, and you can hit him over the head with a cane or something. but now it's out in the open, now it's something he can't take back— and, well, there's only one last thing for him to do: hope for the goddamn best.
extras 📱 texts from mingyu ➤ friends.
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1K notes · View notes
thelostconsultant · 3 months ago
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Soft launch vs. hard launch
pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
type: smau
summary: Oscar and Logan are very protective of you, so you and Charles have to get through them before making your relationship public.
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liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc and 35,133 others
yourusername: I wanted to start the day at the gym, but someone knows the way to my heart ☕ logansargeant ❤️
view all comments
user1: You’re in Belgium? On an F1 race weekend?
↳ user2: Can’t wait for the posts about her shenanigans with Logan. 
oscarpiastri: And where’s my coffee?
↳ logansargeant: Get your own.
↳ oscarpiastri: Good to know I can count on my friend.
↳ yourusername: Stop flirting under my post! It will be flooded with shippers in seconds. 
↳ logansargeant: Shhhh, don’t tell him.
↳ oscarpiastri: Tell me what?
↳ yourusername: Nothing. 
↳ oscarpiastri: I hate you both.
↳ oscarpiastri: And see you at the track.
user3: I love these three. They should do a podcast together during the break. 
user4: I wonder who’s dating who. 
↳ user5: It’s a poly relationship, I’m calling it now. 
↳ yourusername: Wrong. 
↳ user4: Then what’s the truth? The suspense is killing us!!!!
↳ yourusername: 🤷‍♀️
charles_leclerc: Photos I can taste in my mouth...
↳ oscarpiastri: What?
↳ charles_leclerc: Her coffee.
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liked by oscarpiastri, vancityreynolds and 673,677 others
yourusername: So you wanna know what’s my favorite position? Here, now you know (credit to Debbie Ridpath Ohi)
view all comments
logansargeant: Look, there’s Oscar! 😼
↳ oscarpiastri: Haha…
user6: Sometimes I look at her weird posts and I have to remind myself what an amazing fashion model she is beside everything else she does.
user7: You should have taken a photo of yourself doing that. Preferably in a short skirt. 
↳ user8: Dude, gross, fuck off!
↳ logansargeant: Yeah, fuck off.
↳ user9: I love how Logan always shows up to tell assholes off. 
charles_leclerc: Guess the interview didn’t go as planned.
↳ yourusername: Never again. You were right.
↳ oscarpiastri: Wait, what interview?
↳ logansargeant: Hello? Care to answer your phone? 
↳ yourusername: Chill, boys, it’s ok. Already had my rant session with someone. 
↳ charles_leclerc: Anytime.
user10: When did this happen? Can’t remember Charles ever commenting under her posts. 
↳ user11: He has left comments before, but I gotta agree that he’s been suspiciously active lately.
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liked by yourusername, heidiklum and 291,329 others
charles_leclerc: Thank you for having me, verawang, I had a good time. Anyway, what do you think, would this one look good on me?
view all comments
user12: Considering how often he interacts with yourusername on social media, I'm not even surprised to see he happened to pick her photo.
logansargeant: You're talking about the clothes, right? Because if you're not talking about the clothes, we will have to talk.
↳ charles_leclerc: Am I in trouble?
↳ oscarpiastri: After writing, "would this one look good on me?" Yeah, you are. Pervert.
↳ charles_leclerc: I'll send you to your room, son.
↳ logansargeant: Pulling the adoption card? Tsk, you can't pull that on me. Confess.
yourusername: *pulls out the popcorn*
↳ logansargeant: Put that down, I sent you a message.
↳ yourusername: No.
↳ user13: LOL, I love that she's only here for the chaos.
user14: Charles, what's going on between the two of you? This is suspicious.
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,754 others
charles_leclerc: Our first kiss captured by the one and only danielricciardo. #tbt
view all comments
user15: Soft launch on this average Thursday? Who is she?
user16: HOLY SHIT IS THIS YOURUSERNAME??????
↳ user17: This photo is so dark, how could you possibly tell?
↳ user16: Trust me, I'd recognize her anywhere. (Don't ask how.)
↳ oscarpiastri: I'd like to ask though.
↳ logansargeant: It's definitely concerning.
danielricciardo: You're welcome.
↳ logansargeant: Why are you randomly taking photos of other people making out?
↳ danielricciardo: I have a natural talent to recognize historical moments.
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,932 others
yourusername: Someone came home from the party with a fake beard and fell asleep with it still on his face. No kiss for you until you get rid of it.
tagged: charles_leclerc
view all comments
user18: Are you a "soft launch by Charles" son or a "hard launch by Y/N" daughter?
↳ user19: And she hard launched it with this? She's so chaotic, I love her. She could've chosen some sweet photo, but instead she chose this.
user16: I told you all it's her. I knew it!
logansargeant: If you ever want to complain about him, you know where to find me.
↳ oscarpiastri: And me. I'm ready to trash talk my father.
↳ charles_leclerc: Thanks for the vote of confidence.
user20: Not Max liking this. Dude, just follow Charles!
oscarpiastri: Okay, reacting to Charles's photo now that you made this public: Keep it PG!
↳ yourusername: Osc, don't freak out, that's just a kiss.
↳ logansargeant: Yeah, but the rules.
↳ charles_leclerc: That's a photo, it's not happening in front of you.
↳ oscarpiastri: It was on my screen, so now it's burned into my brain.
1K notes · View notes
yoongifis · 3 months ago
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💌 switching positions | myg
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where the boy that you’ve got wrapped around your finger works his hardest to change his position from a somewhat friends-with-benefit to an official relationship with you. [and hes not the only one who will be switching positions ;)] *if you haven’t read ‘fxck a fxckboy’ yet, i suggest to read it before reading this! or don’t :p do as you wish!*
pairing: flirty/smartass!y/n x fuckboy!yoongi
; warnings: ass grabbing, ass slapping, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, cock warming, blowjobs, handjobs breastplay, usage of sex toys, masturbation, usage of mature words, some dirty talk, jealous yoongi
; genre: smut (18+), pwp
; wc: 11k (hooooly sheeeeiiit)
a/n: SHES FINALLY HERE AAAAHH!! a little continuation of fuckboy yoongi~ hehe! very very sorry it took me so long! i had this in the drafts for a while and was slowly building it throughout the year :v now i've gotten busy bc your girl got into nursing school :') don't get me wrong though, i'll do my best to put out some writings here and there bc i do enjoy doing this :p i also wanna say thank you so much for showing so much love to the original 'fxck a fxckboy' fic!! i didn't expect it to gain that much attention, so i was pretty hyped to see a lot of people enjoying it :D i really hope you guys enjoy this one <3 it's just a little somethin' to fulfill your fuckboy yoongi needs hehehe. fair warning though, this is literally pure smut with no sort of plot (call me a horny mofo lmfaoooo). please ignore my grammatical errors :') i'll fix them at some point when i am notttt lazy ! :p
-
“Yoongi, could you quit it? I’m trying to help you study for your exam!”
The two of you were in one of your university library’s study rooms—which included a whiteboard, a table, and a couple of chairs in a somewhat small amount of space. Out of all the seats that were around the table and the free space this room has to offer, he chose to stand right behind you, hands wrapped around your waist as his head rests on the back of your shoulder as you wrote things on the whiteboard. 
He’s groaning out of boredom. 
“But isn’t this supposed to be a date?”
You snort with a chuckle, “yeah—a study date.”
You went a couple more rounds on the day you first slept with each other (and damn did he go crazy). After that, you told him you didn’t want to fuck him without being “official” because it felt like you were one of his little flings. He respected that, and really held himself back (although he does manage to sneak some kisses from you here and there to get his daily dose of you). He became eager to get you to be his girlfriend, but like you said you wanted to go on dates before you can agree.
And that’s what he did.
He’s been making everything into a date. And so far, he’s taken you on plenty.
Work on assignments together at the school library? (study) Date. 
Drive around town, enjoying the views as you guys talked? (car-ride) Date.
Watch a movie at his place with all the snacks he bought just for you? (movie night) Date. 
How about the two of you make dinner together? (cooking) Date.
It was cute. Something you’d never expected from him. Did he always have this romantic, sweet, and cheesy side to him? You could tell he is trying to keep his promise—take you on a bunch of dates till you agree to be his girlfriend. It may seem a bit too much, but due to his past history you wanted to make him wait and work hard for the ‘boyfriend title’—which he was willing to do. 
“Still a date,” he mumbles.
Yoongi’s squeezing you tightly, bringing his head to the crook of your neck, lips just slightly brushing against your skin. 
“Yoongi, you’ve got to study. They’re not going to let you graduate if you don’t pass this class. This is what you get for always skipping.”
“I just don’t understand that calculus shit. And I can’t study when you’re around.”
“You don’t even like it when I’m not around—but it somehow has to be me that has to help you with studying.”
“Exactly.”
You’re chuckling again at how cute he was. How is it that he was one of the biggest fuckboys at your school and now he’s the biggest simp for you?
“How about we make a deal?”
He hums, “I’m listening.”
“Pass the class and I’ll give you whatever you want.”
His head shoots up. “Whatever I want?” He repeats.
“And I’ll stop your suffering and agree to be your girlfriend.”
It’s like a whole switch went off in his body; he was ready to get going.
“You don’t have to tell me twice, princess,” he’s removing his hold around you, finally taking a seat with a pencil in his hand and a paper in front of him as he looks at you, “if that’s all it’s going to take for me to be your boyfriend, I’ll do it.”
Of course, Yoongi left himself with only two days to study for his final exam. It may seem like not enough time, but one thing you learned about him is that he can get really determined to do something especially if he gets some type of reward from you. 
He surprisingly locked himself in his room (according to Hoseok), and was trying to do things on his own. He also did not contact you at all that day—making that day the first time the two of you haven’t hung out or contacted each other since the day you both had that little confession session.
You didn’t want to admit it, but you were honestly missing Yoongi despite it only being a day. You’ve gotten so used to having him constantly around you that him not being right next to you felt so off. 
These feelings must’ve been bothering you so much because now you’re at the front door of his apartment with an early dinner of take-out in your hand, waiting for Hoseok to open the door.
“He’s still in his room—the doors unlocked this time which is new. I would have loved to join you guys but I promised to go out with the other boys,” he pauses. “…I did ask Yoongi to join me but he told me to ‘get lost’, so—,” he grumbles under his breath as he makes his way around you.
You laugh at him.
“No worries, Hoseok. Just go have fun.”
The two of you switch places, with his hand still on the door handle as he’s about to head out.
“I should be saying that to you guys,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Yoongi’s right! Get lost already!!” You gently hit the side of his arm as he laughs at your reaction. “Don’t be so weird.”
“Who said it had to be those things? I never said that,” he laughs, but you roll your eyes at him. “Go out, watch a movie, or cook—whatever to get him up and out of his room. That guy isn’t even getting enough rest like usual and barely ate today and yesterday. I’ve literally never seen him like this before—he’s actually studying pretty hard for his exam.”
You’re thinking to yourself, giving him a little nod before he says his final goodbye and shuts the door.
God—Yoongi is really serious about this.
You knock before you enter, only to be faced with Yoongi at his desk, tons of loose paper scattered everywhere and crumpled ones on the floor. He didn’t even notice you until you said his name, his focus from the lecture playing on his laptop switched to you when he glanced over his shoulder.
“Babyy,” he mumbles lowly, a little smile on his mouth.
You’re walking towards him, expecting his eyes to stay on you but they don’t. He’s listening to whatever lecture he had on, scribbling down whatever. It kind of hurt a little. You were too used to having his attention all on you.
“Have you eaten? I brought some take out.”
All he does is shake his head, still focused on his work.
A small pout on your face appears, upset with how he was. You put the bag filled with food onto the floor, next to the drawers of his desk. You take a step closer to him, a hand immediately going to his head to run your fingers through his messy hair. You gently massage his scalp with the pads of your fingers, leaning over to take a look at his work. The only sound that could be heard between you two was the lecture that he had playing.
“Look at you, working so hard,” you broke the silence, “you literally weren’t able to be like this at the library.”
He doesn’t say anything. Just a little “uh-huh”. It was more of a little grunt in agreement. 
It bothered you that he wasn’t talking to you like usual. No hands or eyes all over you—nothing! 
You remove your hands away from him.
“Yoongi, don’t you want to relax with me for a little bit?”
It was obvious you were pouting again—you can just hear it as you spoke.
“Can’t, baby. I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He didn’t even bother to glance over at you or complain how you removed your hand from his head. 
“Not even just for a little?”
You hear him exhale, the small action enough to make your heart sink just a little.
“Baby, I’m a little busy. Go lay in my bed and rest for me over there, yeah? I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
Now that definitely hurt.
He didn’t even take a look at you again! Not one glance.
Without a word, you sat on his bed. Eventually you quietly lay down, taking your phone out to scroll through your apps even though you’d much prefer to be talking or hanging out with Yoongi. 
The silence and sound of his lecture videos and the small scratches of his pencil on his paper echos in the room.
Who would have thought you’d ever see Yoongi ignoring you or not be all over you when you’re in the same room as him?
You immediately got to thinking.
And it hit you.
You toss your phone somewhere on the bed, getting up and making your way to Yoongi. You stood next to him, watching the way he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. He sits there silently, carefully watching his lecture. When you see the right moment, you turn his chair a bit towards you, giving you enough room to squeeze your way through and sit on his lap while facing him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Baby—,” he sighs, “I told you I’m busy right now. I can’t have you on me like this.”
“But babyyy I miss youuu,” you whined, “can’t I get a recharge?”
You notice him completely freeze, slowly taking in what just happened—it was the first time in forever where you didn’t call him by his name.
You mentally smirk to yourself.
Now that’s what you were waiting for. 
He swallows hard, keeping his composure. 
“Yeah?” He hums, “I have the test tomorrow and I’m trying to get a good grade on it. If I let you sit here with me, you gotta promise me that you won’t distract me. This test means a lot to me. Got that, baby?”
You tighten your hold around him, nestling your head against the side of his neck. You nod your head at his words. Not because you agree or that you’d promise to follow his conditions. It was just for the sake of his sanity.
He clears his throat, hitting the play button and grabbing his pencil to continue scribbling down notes or whatever. 
Everything was pissing you off at the moment. 
You missed his hands being all over you and the way he’d fight his way to steal another kiss from you while you’re trying to push him away because he was always greedy for more. You wanted him to be annoyingly head over heels for you while you try to be nonchalant about it. And it’s also crazy to think that it’s only been a couple days and you’re acting like this over Yoongi not showing you the same attention as usual.
You give it some time. Patiently waiting until you thought it was time to get him all riled up—and then maybe he might just pay more attention to you. But being extremely patient at this moment is a pain in the ass, and you knew you didn’t want to drag this on forever. You move around on top of his lap, trying to somewhat grind against him as you pretend to get yourself more comfortable. You move your face closer to his neck, nuzzling your head on the top of his shoulder. You softly exhale, allowing your breath to hit and tickle his neck. 
Nothing. No reaction. 
You place your soft lips against his skin, giving him very light kisses on the same spot.
He slightly tilts his neck away without a word, causing you to huff in annoyance. You immediately bring your lips to his neck again, placing slow and gentle kisses on the side of his neck that instead lead to a spot under his ear and along his jawline.
He groans, clearly enjoying your actions but conflicted with the need to resist the temptation of you.
“Baby,” is all he says, voice sharp and stern. 
You pull away, sitting up straight to face him. 
“Enough.”
You could tell on his face that he was being serious.
Well..trying to. And it was cute—which is why he wasn’t as successful with intimidating you.
You roll your eyes at him, making your way towards him to pepper his jawline with kisses.
“But I miss youu,” you mumbled against his skin, making your way to his ear.
“…and I want you so bad, babyyy.”
You hear him mumble a “fuckin’ hell” under his breath and his hands creep underneath your thighs. He’s picking you up and you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck tightly. In no time, you feel your back hit against the bed. You watch him adjust himself so that he’s eye level with you as he hovers above you. Just by the look of his dark eyes, you knew you were in for it. 
“Yoongi—,” you squeaked.
“Hm?” He hums, voice rough. 
The atmosphere around him felt different this time. It was just hard to point out what it was. Nevertheless, you brushed it off. As desperate this may sound, you were finally getting what you wanted and you’re not going to let anything get in the way. All you wanted right now was him because—fuck—you miss him. 
“Please—,” you mumble.
It felt embarrassing to be underneath him like this with his hungry eyes beaming at you—and that’s all he’s been doing for the past how many minutes that felt like an eternity. You watch his eyes flicker from your eyes and down to your lips, clearly tempted to just devour you then and there but he doesn’t. He shifts in his position, bringing his right thigh in between your legs and pressed against your crotch, giving you the opportunity to grind against him—cuz fuck, you couldn’t help it. You wanted to be touched—you needed him to do something to help you get some relief but he didn't do anything.
He watches you carefully. The way your eyes flutter shut and open slowly as you attempt to grind against his thigh, begging for him to do something.  God, you were just so fucking tempting. But he couldn’t.
Instead, he brings his head to the side of your neck, peppering a messy line of light kiss along it. He leads the trail up towards the side of your jaw, almost mimicking exactly what you were doing earlier. Once he makes it to the spot underneath the lobe of your ear he pulls away.
“What do you want, princess?” He softly speaks into your ear. 
The sound of his voice and the way his breath hits your skin already sends shivers down your spine. It was really just the effect he had on you, and he never failed to make you feel this way. Your mind was already drunk off him, words also didn’t seem to want to come out of your mouth.
He removes his thigh away from you and sits up, getting another good look at you before he lowers himself more till he becomes face-to-face with your abdomen as he lays in between your legs. He lifts up the oversized hoodie you wore, but only exposing your tummy. From there, he started to place slow and soft kisses from below your chest and leading down to underneath your belly button. These actions were making you go crazy—maybe it has been too long since you’ve been touched this way by Yoongi.
He stops giving your tummy kisses when he reaches the spot under your belly button, making you whine out a little “please”.
“Mmm?” He hums, looks up at you as he sits back up to admire you. “What baby? You want me to go further, don’t you?”
You nod at him, your eyes telling him that you need more.
He gives you a lopsided smile before bringing his head to the side of yours, his lips slightly grazing the shape of your ear.
“I don’t fuck just anyone anymore, remember? My girlfriend is the only person I ever want to fuck.” 
What a damn smart ass.
He’s already pulling away chuckling before you could wrap yourself around him to keep him on top of you.
“Whaat?!” You whined, “—but Yoongi!”
He’s laying in between your legs, arms wrapped around your hips as he nuzzles the side of his head on your tummy. You watch him get comfortable and his breathing slows. 
“Yoongi,” you gently pat his head in annoyance.
Silence.
“Yoongi, wake up,” you huff.
Nothing.
The exhaustion finally caught up to him and made this man fall asleep on you just like that.
You grumble to yourself in annoyance—a perfectly good plan gone to waste. You do your best to shove him off you (of course it took a couple tries). Once you finally got him off you, you took your needy ass home.
That was just it.
Hoseok could deal with this man when he gets home!
You honestly couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you’re in this position right now. The Yoongi you were seeing now was a complete 180 from the one you were dealing with yesterday.
“What’s with the little outfit you have underneath your hoodie, princess? Were you already expecting me to come over?”
His smile is cheeky, the thought of you waiting for him to come home in that outfit got him smiling like crazy. 
Fuck—it  made him way too happy.
You hum, carefully picking out your words.
“I was going to film something.”
“Yeah?” His eyes widen, and his imaginary tail starts to wag. “as a congratulatory gift, huh?” 
“That… or a ‘sorry-you-failed-you’ll-get-it-next-time’ gift,” you chuckle.
He scoffs at your words.
“You thought I wouldn’t pass?”
“I mean there was a possibility, wasn’t there, Yoongi?”
He chuckles, bringing his eyes from you down to your thighs.
“You don’t get it, baby,” he hums, fingers lightly grazing down your thigh, “you told me you’d be all mine if I passed this exam.” He pauses, removing his fingers from your thigh and brings his face closer to your skin, pressing chaste kisses that lead up to your inner thigh. He gently bites down, earning a little yelp from you.
Yoongi sits up to face you eye-to-eye again, admiring the annoyed look on your cute face yet there was a slight shift in his demeanor.
“There’s no way I’d ever want to lose to a prize like that, baby. And even if I weren’t able to pass that exam, you know damn well that I’ll make sure to make you want to be mine.”
He stares at you, mentally undressing you causing him to lick his lips. The way he looked at you made you feel small, despite his eyes flickering from your eyes, down to your lips, and to your bare legs. It suddenly felt embarrassing to be wearing such an outfit under a hoodie while being in front of Yoongi. 
As if he could sense your feelings, he gets off the bed and grabs your swivel chair from your desk, placing it right in front of the end of the bed. He takes a seat, leaning back with his legs spread and arms crossed over his chest.
“Show me what you were about to film.”
“Yoongi—,” you mess with the bottom of your hoodie, pulling it down to cover yourself some more, “—you know I can’t —.”
“Show. Me.” He interrupts, words sharp. His voice was low and demanding—and you hate to admit it but it was definitely turning you on.
You swallowed hard, awkwardly clearing your throat before answering him. 
“I’m—uh—,” you croaked.
“What is it?” 
“My—um…,” you mumbled “…it’s in the drawer on your right.”
He raises an eyebrow, turning to his side to pull open the drawer of your dresser. He rummages through it without looking until he feels a particular item he can already recognize. The boy brings it out, holding it in front of him with a snicker.
“You were going to use this too?” He’s waving it around, a big smile on his face.
Your grow even more embarrassed, face flushed. You look down, avoiding his gaze as you sheepishly nod your head.
“What a treat,” he hums, “but don’t you need to prepare yourself before using your little toy?”
You lift your head up only to find him still watching you with a teasing smile. 
“Let me see how you get yourself all nice and wet, princess—then I’ll hand this over to you.”
As you’re sitting on top of your legs in a kneeling position, you bring your thighs a little closer to each other—and he immediately notices it.
He’s tipping his head upwards, giving you a signal to “go on”. 
You could just not listen to him but in all honesty, you’ve been waiting so long to become intimate with him again. And knowing him—especially from what happened the other day—he’d definitely tease the shit out of you and not give you what you want if you don’t follow his orders.
You try to brush off the nerves you were feeling, moving your legs from underneath. Your legs were spread apart, knees bent and feet on top of the bed, giving him a good view of your skimpy, sheer underwear you chose to wear today. He could already tell you were wet—just from a quick glance at your panties he’s already spotted a little wet patch.
With just your index and middle finger, you take the two digits and place them over your panties and on top of your clit, rubbing it in small and slow circles. You were already closing your eyes, throwing your head back while moaning softly. Maybe it was the effect of his presence or just him overall but you felt even more turned on than when you do this by yourself.
“Panties to the side, princess.”
You do as he says, feeling the surge embarrassment run through you, causing your face to grow hot and red. You continue to slowly rub your wet clit, with your head turned to the side as you whimper and moan all while avoiding him.
“Don’t avoid your pussy, baby. It needs some attention too,” he hums, “put a finger in.”
You look at him, biting down on your lip as you remove your fingers from your clit.
You hesitate a bit before slowly inserting your middle finger into your heat, pumping it in and out as you turn your head away from him to avoid his gaze. You bit down on your lip with enough pressure to leave indents, suppressing your moans from Yoongi.
“So good baby, you’re such a good girl.” He coos.
“Your pussy is just sucking your finger right in, princess,” he chucked, “making a whole mess just from one finger.”
You ignored his comments, torn between concentrating imagining that your fingers were his own or his cock that were filling up your pussy, or the fact that you wanted to hide yourself and your moans from the man in front of you. God, it’s embarrassing—to be exposed and to be playing with your most private part right in front of a man you were head over heels for. Yoongi, however, wasn’t having it. He thought this whole thing was the biggest turn on he’s ever had. You were the sexiest girl on earth to him, especially with the nice treat of you playing with yourself. 
“Nnnggh—ahh~!” You yelped, quickly looking down to see the man in between your legs, eyes dark as he lapped up your overflowing essence. Your movements stutter, and he takes that as an opportunity to move your hand away and replace it with his, making you a bit noisier than before. He pulls his face away, thumb playing with your clit as he keeps eye contact with you.
“There we go, baby. Don’t hide that pretty face from me,” he smirks. It was easy for him to read you—he already knew that you would try to avoid his gaze. He’s tossing your pink dildo on the bed, removing his hand from your clit. He places each hand on the back of your thigh of each leg, pressing your legs against the sides of your chest and nearly folding you in half. This position was one of his favorites—he was always able to see everything while he ate you out.
He keeps a tight hold on your legs, making sure they stay in place. He switches from using a flat tongue while moving his head side to side to using just the tip of his tongue to stimulate your sensitive and erect clit before sucking it—completely indulging in all your juices that were flowing out of you. 
“W-wait!—please!” you squealed.
He has you squirming, lifting your hips in an attempt to get it away or closer to his face. The noises he made were obscene— loud slurps, low hums. He ran his tongue up and down your slit, lapping up the essence you produced. He uses that thick piece of muscle to probe at your hole, plunging it in and out of you. He buried his face into your pussy, his tongue moving around your hole as his nose brushes against your bead, allowing him to inhale the sweetest scent of you.
He loved watching the look you had on your face—cheeks brushed red, mouth hanging open, eyebrows furrowed. It was a sexy look—and being in this position where he had a good view of your lower half and your face could almost make him cum. He removes his hold from one leg, bringing that free hand to easily slide two fingers in you as he abuses your clit with his mouth, causing you to let out a strained gasp.
“Y-yoon…gi~!” You cried.
He hums against your clit before removing himself.
“Fuck, princess—,” he curls his fingers upwards as he thrusts them into you, “—you taste so damn good.”
“Please—! Need you!”
He’s chuckling at you—thought that you looked so damn adorable that he was contemplating to tease the shit out of you or completely fuck your brains out.
“Yeah? You need my cock, huh, baby?” With his two fingers in your pussy, he uses his thumb to rub your clit, causing you to clench around him. He becomes more aggressive with his thrusting of his fingers.
“Hhhnnghh—!” You squeak, feeling yourself about to reach your high. You’re gripping onto the sheets, arching your back. Right there—it was right there. You could feel the way he was trying to get you to release. But once you almost felt that wave of pleasure, it was quickly taken away from you. Your legs shake and you clench around nothing.
“You owe me a show, princess,” the man hums, bringing the wet digits to his mouth. He spreads his two fingers apart, making a v-shape as he takes his tongue and licks around his fingers—the slick, sticky essence coating them— all while making sure to maintain eye contact with you.
“Yooonggii—,” you whined with a pout, bringing your legs together to rub your thighs against each other to feel something. “Was almost there, Yoongi~,” you mumble with a pout, innocent eyes glistening at him. 
He’s standing up as you spoke, chuckling at how desperate you looked. 
“God, you’re fucking cute.”
It was clear to him how badly you wanted him to continue. But he had to hold himself back because he just had to play around with you. The man reaches over the bed to grab the sex toy he tossed earlier, holding up to show it to you.
“I got you all ready for this, baby. Show me how you use it.”
You look at him with a flushed face, lips pouting at the fact he wasn’t going to continue what he was doing earlier. It was annoying—stopping you from cumming just because he wants to see you ride your dildo. You were hoping the pleading look on your face would change his mind—make him want to continue, but he doesn’t budge. You slightly roll your eyes at him, reposition yourself to sit up in front of him on your knees again. 
He smirks, satisfied with how well you’re listening to him even though he can see right through you. Yoongi gently tosses the dildo in front of you before taking a seat. You took the toy into your hands, holding it as if it was a foreign object to you. 
“Go on, baby.” He hums, keeping his eyes on you. He looked relaxed; slightly slouched against the chair with his legs manspreading. 
You huff, mustering up the courage and to mentally preparing yourself to do such a lewd act in front of him (even though the two of you have already slept with each other and seen one another naked and whatnot…). You lift yourself up, standing on your knees with them slightly spread apart. You hold the bottom of your hoodie underneath your chin, which exposes just your tummy, while you try to position the toy underneath you. You bring your panties to the side to expose yourself, brushing just the tip against your slit which makes you clench around nothing. You  slowly sink down once you feel yourself wrap around the tip. 
“Haaa~,” you gasp, tilting your head back as you sink down even further. You’re a whimpering, mumbling mess when you have it completely in you—and fuck has it been a long time since you’ve actually used it or been fucked by Yoongi. You allow yourself to get yourself adjusted.
He focuses on how your face scrunches up and how your mouth hangs open, since you’ve let go of the bottom part of your hoodie and is now covering where all the action was. 
You missed this feeling of being full that it was making you go crazy. You wanted to stay like this, but for some reason you felt like wanting to move. You lift your hips up in an attempt to have the toy just barely in you, but it doesn’t slide out of you so you sit down again.
“Your pussy isn’t letting it go, princess. You’re gripping it so tightly,” he chuckles, leaning forward so that he’s closer to you and the bed. “I’ll hold it for you, baby.”
You nod, lifting your legs up as you try to relax yourself, letting your dildo slide out and onto the bed. You stood there on your knees, waiting for him to do something.
He brings his hand to the bottom of your hoodie.
“Hold this up with your mouth for me, baby. Make sure this part is the part you’re holding with your mouth”
You look at him a bit weird, not fully understanding his specific request but you do it anyway. You bring the fabric up to your mouth, now completely revealing your lingerie to him.
Ah…What a smartass.
He notices you roll your eyes at him, making him chuckle. He takes the sex toy and holds it with the base in his palm.
“Alright, baby. Go at it.” He’s positioned the dildo underneath you, waiting for you to get on it again. 
The two of you make eye contact as you slowly sink down again. You feel the tip of the toy brush against your wet folds, causing you to bite down on the fabric a little harder than before. 
Why are you more excited? Is it because of Yoongi? 
Fuck, you wanted him badly.
As you slowly slide yourself down on the dildo, you’re  immediately throwing your head back again, breaking eye contact but he continues to watch you. You feel yourself reach the end of it, only for you to immediately raise your hips and again to slowly start moving up and down. You find a rhythm as you bounce on the toy, your hands finding their way to massage your breasts, massaging them with the lingerie still on as your moans are slightly muffled from the fabric in your mouth. 
“Look at you playing with yourself. You look so sexy, princess. You were going to film something like this for me, right baby?” He hums, reaching over in his pocket to take out his phone. He opens up the camera app, tilting his phone upwards to get the whole view of you and starts to record you. “I'll help you and be your cameraman—look at the camera, princess.”
At first he gets a shot of all of you—you glancing down at him and the camera with a flushed face before quickly throwing your head back, hands grabbing at your own breast over the sheer fabric covering them, your hips moving on its own as you bounced up and down. He then pans the camera to your pussy swallowing up your dildo.
“Yeah, keep moving like that, baby. You’re making such a creamy mess on your dildo like a good girl. You’re gripping so hard—fuck, baby,” he groans lowly.
He watches the way all your overflowing juices were pooling at the base of the dildo and makes sure to get a good shot of it before tossing it to the side.
“Take the hoodie off, baby.”
You do as he says, tossing the fabric somewhere on the floor. He takes in the way you looked in the skimpy piece of clothing you wore underneath. 
God, you blew him away. 
You were just so. damn. beautiful. 
The white made you look heavenly—angelic, actually. And the lacey, sheer fabric that covered you wasn’t necessary at this point, but damn did it do a good job at catching his eye. The set you had on also had some frills on it, along with a little bow in the middle of your waistband and of your bra. It all suited you—it was perfectly made for you.
He literally just couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
With his free hand, he caresses the curve of your waist to the curve of your hips. He takes a finger and curls it underneath the thin waistband of your panties, following it slowly until he removes it once he reached the middle of your thigh. Yoongi brings his hand up to your chest, using his index finger and thumb to pinch your erect nipple right through the sheer fabric.
“Haaahh~,” you stutter in your movements, letting out an airy moan.
God, he needed you so bad.
He takes the hand that is holding your dildo, flicking his wrist upwards, causing you to fall forwards and pause your movements. He slides your dildo back out, only just to slam it back in and keep it at a steady pace—fucking you with your dildo as you stay still leaning over him. His free hand goes to the side of your ass, helping you stay up.
“Yoongi—!” You whine, your arms making its way to link behind the man’s neck. Your chest is nearly pressed against his face, giving him the opportunity to grab a mouthful of your breast. 
The man encases your hard nipple through the fabric in his mouth, biting down on it enough to get another moan of his name out of your mouth.
“Nnnghh~!” You squeal, pulling him closer to you. 
He then begins to suck on your nipple, toying with the metal bar that’s pierced right through it. With how sheer the fabric is, he’s practically sucking on you rather than the fabric.
Your legs begin to shake as he starts to pick up the pace with your dildo. You could feel that high again, the same feeling you felt earlier when he was eating you out like a goddamn monster.
“Yoongi!” You chant with your mouth slightly hung open, “please! Right there—!”
He’s slamming the dildo inside you, filing you all the way. He’s hitting the spot that made you roll your eyes backwards, your mouth hanging open and spewing nonsense.
He removes himself from your breast, pulling back to take a look at your face, admiring how sexy you are. God—he can’t get over you.
“Go ahead and cum for me, baby,” he mumbles lowly, “lose yourself already.”
He uses the hand on your ass to guide you on your dildo while the other hand has it sliding in and out of you. He brings his lips to your collarbone, trailing kisses towards and up your neck.
You breathe heavily, mouth hung wide open as pleasure takes over you. It almost felt like you were being fucked by him, but it was nearly enough. 
“Yoongi—yoongi!” You chant before losing yourself. You rest your head on his shoulder, listening to your heart pound crazy while you catch your breath. 
“Good job, baby, you did so good.” He kisses the side of your head, slowly removing the dildo from your pussy, earning a little whine from you.
He lets you sit down on his clothed lap, your wetness probably leaving marks on his sweats. At this point, you could most definitely feel how hard he was right now. You lift your head up and look at him with fucked out eyes. Your hands were clasped behind his neck, while his hands rested on your waist.
You grind yourself against his hard erection, hoping he gets the hint that you wanted him now instead of having you beg for it.
The corner of his mouth lifts up to a small smirk.
He’s lifting you up as he gets you both off the bed. He’s turning around, gently bringing you down on top of the bed.
“Lie down for me, baby,” his voice low.
He gets a view of you again in your sexy lingerie. Yes, this fucking sexy ass lingerie—god, all the mental photos he has of you will definitely be on repeat in his mind. He didn’t want to remove it. I mean—it would be a waste if he had to. Just the look of you in such a pretty yet skimpy outfit made him go crazy. 
You attempt to be quick with closing your legs again, keeping some modesty. However, he was able to beat you by bringing his hands on either of your legs and pushing them slightly down to keep you wide open for him.
“So pretty,” he mumbles under his breath as he salivates at the look of your body. You grew embarrassed again, having the urge to shut your legs to cover you up but Yoongi was too strong for you.
“Can you tell me what you want next, baby?”
You already knew he was going to tease you—actually he probably just wanted to hear those words come right out of your mouth. It would be music to his ears.
“Yoongi, please…,” you mumble, “don’t you want to fuck me?” You give him the most innocent doe eyes that you could, hoping he could lose himself already.
He chuckles.
“Of course, princess,” he brings himself closer to you, taking his painful erection and grinds himself against your slick, teasing your little hole. “You want me to fuck you like this? With my clothes on? It’s making such a mess on my pants, baby.”
You bite down on your bottom lip, shaking your head no. You wanted more, and you know that he knows that already.
“Thought so,” he hums. “Be specific, baby. Tell me what you want me to do.”
You hesitate a bit, but his teasing was enough to make you more upfront with what you wanted.
“Take your clothes off too, Yoongi.”
“Mmm…were you feeling alone?”
“Extremely, Yoongi”
He chuckles as he removes every piece of his clothing from his body, tossing it wherever in the room.
“Can’t let my baby feel that way,” he hums.
Your eyes go from his to below his waist, watching him slowly remove his boxers and revealing his cock. It was thick and long, an angry red at the tip with a bit of precum oozing out. 
Your hand gravitates towards it, holding it by the base and squeezing it a little. You completely forgot how big and girthy he was. As you slide your hand up and down his cock, you got him lowly groaning while you thought to yourself about whether or not this thing could fit in you again. But fuck—you wanted him so bad. 
“…please Yoongi,” you remove your hand from his cock, looking up at him, “fuck me already.”
He’s smiling, bringing his cock closer to your core. He takes his thumb to push his cock on top of your slit, and keeps it there. He slides himself back and forth, coating himself with your slick, teasing you as he rubs the tip of his cock against your clit.
You let out a little whine from his touch. 
“Want your cock inside me, Yoongi,” you mumble.
He’s leaning forward to press a chaste kiss on your forehead, his facing hovering yours.
“It’s all yours, baby.”
He’s leans in again to steal a passionate kiss from you, while he slowly pushes his cock inside your soaked hole. You slightly pull away from him, your mouth hanging open, spewing out soft moans as he fills you up. 
He gives you the chance to get used to him being inside you. And fuck, did he miss your fucking pussy. 
He pulls his hips back, letting you miss the feeling of him filling you up before he slams himself right back into you again.
“Haaah~! Yoongi!” You say breathlessly. Your hands crawl to hold the sides of his face, as he continues to leave a trail of scattered kisses from the side of your neck and down to your chest. He’s pulling the cup of your bra down, exposing you before he latches on to your pierced nipple. 
He starts to pick up the pace as he thrusts into you; finally leaving your breasts alone with hickies that mark you as his. He stands straight to look down at you, watching you writhing underneath him. He pulls the other cup to your bra to expose the other perky and pierced breast. His eyes mesmerized by the face you were making as you were getting fucked by him, your tight pussy sucking him right up, and your tits bouncing everywhere—god it felt like they made him even harder.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he grunts as he thrusts into you, “you’re all mine, huh?”
You let out little more whimpers and moans, unable to make out any sentences. He chuckles, wanting to see you lose more of yourself. He lifts your leg and puts it over your shoulder, wanting to penetrate you even deeper. He takes his right thumb and gives it a quick lick with his tongue before placing it right on your clit, rubbing it in circles.
“Nnnggh—ah! Yoongi!” You yelp.
“My pretty girl. You take me in so well, huh?”
He watches you let out louder moan, realizing that his cock grazed your most sensitive spot.
He’s snapping his hips hard against you. He lifts his knee up to place it on the bed, angling himself so that he could continuously hit that spot that had you rolling your eyes back. He presses down on your clit harder, torturing it with quick and small tracings of a circle.
You’re mumbling nonsense, spewing out whatever came out of your mouth. He could feel you tightening around him, making him let out another groan.
He looks down at the area where you two were connected, admiring the creamy mess you were making on his dick. His eyes wander upwards to your heavenly body. Then up to your cute face, making all kinds of sounds as he pounded you—God, he’s actually going insane, he was grunting with every thrust. 
“W-wait! Haahnngh~! Yoongi!” You bring a hand to his abdomen, weakly trying to push him away as he’s drilling himself inside of you. 
“Please!” You whined, “s-something’s coming out!” 
A soft smile slowly forms on the man’s face as he watches yours—mouth hung open, nonsense whining. You were writhing underneath him, trying to get away from him but he wouldn’t let you. He presses a soft kiss on your forehead before putting more strength into his thrusts.
“Yoongi!” You yelped, letting out helpless whines as you can feel yourself about to reach your high. 
Your hands wrap around his back, your sharp nails scratching him enough to show red lines and possibly make him bleed. 
He gives a final thrust, causing you to squirt all over his pelvis area and onto the bed when he removes himself from your hole.
“Fuck…,” he grumbles under his breath.
He watches your chest move up and down, eyes closed as you’re still trying to recover from what just happened.
“You made a fucking mess, baby. You squirted all over me.”
Your eyes shot open, propping yourself up with your elbows to look down at what you did.
“I just…?” You lay yourself down again, covering your eyes in humiliation. It’s the first time you’ve done that before. “Yoongi—this is so embarrassing,” you whined.
“Embarrassing?” He’s leaning forward to kiss the back of your hands before gently removing them away from your face, eyes now on him. “That was sexy as fuck, baby.”
He’s lifting you to sit you up before he carries you again. He sits first on the edge of the bed, placing you on his lap while facing forward. Right in front of you, you had a view of the two of your naked, sweaty bodies. Hickies scatter across your chest, your legs spread apart and glistening from you making the biggest mess. You feel your cheeks grow red from looking at yourself.
He helps remove your sheer, lace bra off. His hands roam around until they glide up and down the sides of your waist.
“Look how sexy you are, baby. So, so fucking sexy.”
He’s tapping on the side of your ass, signaling for you to lift your bottom just a bit, which you did, as he helps you remove your panties. He holds his cock up, and helps you guide your hips to it. You slowly slide down on his cock, fully taking him whole, causing you to let out a shaky moan.
“Bring your feet up, baby.”
You do it, placing one foot on either side of him and near the edge of the bed. He has his chest against your back, an arm holding your waist to keep you steady while his other hand is pushed against the bed behind him to hold him up.
“Bounce for me, princess. And keep your eyes on the mirror. Need you to see what I see when I fuck you.”
You bite down on your lip, looking at him through the mirror and he tips his head again telling you to “go on”. You slowly lift your hips up, feeling somewhat empty without his cock in you, until you drop yourself down on him. The fullness had you moaning out his name, throwing your head back in pleasure.
“I told you to watch yourself, didn’t I?”
You keep a steady pace on his cock, your eyes closed and mouth hanging open again.
“…too embarrassing—,” you moan.
He scoffs, annoyed with your response. He wanted you to see how you looked—how your body reacts when you have his cock stuffed inside of you. He wasn’t going to let that answer slide.
The man hooks his arms under the back of your knees, carrying you while he keeps himself in you. Your eyes flash open when you feel yourself in the air.
“W-wait! Yoongi!” Your hands go to your face to cover your eyes. You lay your back more against him to keep yourself from falling forward.
He’s moving you on his cock with no difficulties. He has you bouncing up and down, while you’re still trying to process what’s going on.
“Look at how much of a slut you fucking look like, princess,” his voice low and gravely. 
The contrast of his words turn you on. Peaking through your fingers, you catch a glimpse of your glistening, naked body. 
“Remove them, now.”
You swallow hard, finally facing yourself. Your eyes wander, watching the way your pussy took in your boyfriend’s cock, how you were making such a damn mess on it, the way your perky breasts bounced around while he thrusted upwards into your pussy. It was all so vulgar—a dirty scene that came out of a porno.
“Yeah, that’s it, baby. This is the view that I get—andI’m the only one who gets to have this view.”
Despite feeling slightly embarrassed about watching yourself, you couldn’t help but feel a bit more turned on. Who knew you could make such a dirty yet sexy expression?
You’re furrowing your eyebrows, mouth hung open as you whimper and moan. Your hand travels down to your lower abdomen, holding it there to feel a slight bulge whenever Yoongi pushes himself in you. It was actually insane to you to be able to feel and see this.
“Go lower, baby. Play with yourself.”
Your hand slowly inches lower, grazing your skin. You take a finger and draw small, slow circles on your clit. You watch yourself through the mirror, your eyes flickering to watch your scrunched up face to how Yoongi was pounding your pussy while you played with your swollen, sensitive bead.
“Fuck—that’s it baby. You listen so well,” he grunts. 
He adjusts his hold under you, making it more comfortable for him to slide you in and out of him while he fucks you harder underneath. He was basically doing bicep curls at this point—his muscles were nearly on fire but he couldn’t care any less.
“More pressure baby.”
You follow his commands, and you have yourself throwing your head back again as you lose yourself. Your sensitive clit makes your hips shake, causing you to squeeze tightly around him. You hear Yoongi slightly growl in your ear, going crazy because of you. 
“You’re milking my cock so hard—you want my cum that bad, huh?” His voice was gruff.
He holds you a bit lower, stopping his little bicep curls and instead continues to fuck you from underneath at a faster pace and with more forceful thrusts.
“Ngggh—ahh~!” You yelp from the change in speed.
“Don’t fucking remove your fingers. Keep playing with yourself.”
You were nearly seeing stars again. You couldn’t think straight. But you could feel that same feeling you felt earlier, and you knew you just couldn’t hold that knot in your stomach anymore.
“F—fuck! Yoongi! Ah—!” You cried, “cumming!”
“Fucking cum for me, baby. Lose yourself already.” 
He’s thrusting you with all the power he can, while his face was stuck on watching your reaction on your airbrushed slightly red face. 
Soon, he's pulling out of your slippery, wet hole. Your mouth makes an “o” shape, before crying out Yoongi’s name as you orgasm again.  Your body fluids shot out of you and coating the mirror—and you squirt again, just as he was wanting to get you to do. 
Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes closed as you were trying to catch your breath. You could feel your hips still twitching from being so sensitive. This was something you’ve never experienced before. 
He’s kissing the side of your head, mumbling sweet words. He gently lays you back down on the bed on your back, allowing you some time to relax for a bit. You can feel the mix of his and your fluids seeping out of your hole, dripping down to your other puckered hole.
Your eyes flutter open and they couldn’t help but take a quick scan at the naked man’s body that stood in front of you. As you look lower, you can’t help but notice that his cock was still painfully hard, standing up straight with a slight curve to it.
He towers over you, watching every small movement you make. Although he was being sweet to give you some time to rest, by the look he was making you could tell he was hungrily waiting for the next round. He licks his lips as a lazy smile forms on his face as your eyes finally meet.
“Yoongi…,” you mumble. Your hand makes its way to his length, wrapping your fingers around it. Your essence still coats him, making it slippery enough for you to slowly stroke his cock. You look up at him with half-lided eyes.
He lowly groans in pleasure, throwing his head back for a second before bringing it back to look at you.
“Mmm…yes, baby?” 
“All that fucking and you’re still so hard?”
He’s laughing, an odd thing to do when someone is giving you a handjob. 
“I can’t get enough of you, baby.”
“Yeah?” You hum, slowing your movements. 
He takes his hand and wraps it around yours, helping you pump his cock before he starts to guide it to your slit. The two of you drag the tip against your wet folds.
“Looks like it’s the same for you too, baby. You’re fucking wet again.” He’s pushing himself into you again, the two of you letting go of his cock. He slowly sinks in, getting a little whimper out of you.
“All that fucking and you’re still clenching onto me so tightly, baby. You really love my cock inside you, huh?”
He’s pulling out, still keeping the tip in, before he thrusts back into you. 
“Mmmph~! F-fuck…! Yesss, Yoongi.”
He’s chuckling again, keeping his pace steady.
“Yeah?” He hums, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your thigh to keep it steady. Taking his free hand, he uses it to press firmly against your lower abdomen. You’re mumbling nonsense again from this new feeling of pleasure.
“God—I fucking love you,” he grunts, bringing your other leg over his shoulder. He’s leaning against you, practically folding your body in half just to reach you even deeper. This position had you rolling your eyes back, reaching for any body part of him to dig your fingernails into his skin. Yoongi would switch it up at times—from giving you fast yet shorter strokes to taking his sweet time as he pulls himself nearly all the way out just to slowly bring himself back in. However, he made it his goal to make sure every thrust was sharp enough to bruise your cervix. 
Your mouth hangs open, nothing but airy moans escaping from it with every thrust he makes. He brings his face to yours, using this opportunity to probe his tongue into your mouth. His tongue dances along with yours before he captures it in his mouth. He’s sucking on it, eliciting more moans from you but he removes himself to swallow them. You pull away to catch your breath, the knot in your stomach becoming tighter.
“Gonna…cum—,” you mumble under your breath. 
Yoongi huffs, giving you small pecks on the sides of your mouth. He really didn’t need you to let him know. He could already tell by the way your insides were clamping onto him. 
He’s quickly removing himself from you, denying your orgasm. The man watches your hips move in desperation, your hole spasming around nothing as he helps you rest your legs on the bed.
“Yoongiii—hnngh…,” you cried, voice whiney. “So mean,” you quietly mumble.
He smirks at your words.
Without any word, he rolls you onto your stomach. The man lifts your hips upwards to have your ass sticking up and spreads your legs apart. He pushes the upper portion of your body against the mattress, your arms cushion your head as you lay there. With his large hand, he presses on the small of your back, helping you with a deeper arch. 
“Beg for my cock, baby.”
You turn your head around to look back at him, shaking your head in disagreement while he has you in this position.
His left eyebrow lifts up and a dark chuckle escapes his lips.
“You were behaving so well earlier, princess.” He hums, taking his dick and running it through your wet folds to collect your arousal. “Now you want to be a brat?”
“Don’t want to beg anymore,” you mumble.
He scoffs. “So should I end it here?”
“Go ahead. I’ll find someone else who could do a better job then. They would let me cum.”
He smacks the sides of your ass, getting a yelp out of you.
“Watch your mouth.”
“Maybe I can call up this one guy—.”
He grasps the sides of your ass, spreading them apart to reveal your needy pink, dripping hole. He slowly sinks into you, causing you to let out a shaky moan. Yoongi keeps still inside of you, making sure you’re taking in all of him.
“You only need me, baby—your fucking boyfriend. I’m the only one who gets to see you this way and get you to cum.”
He can’t help but absolutely hate the sound and the thought of you with another man. It drove him crazy just hearing you mention “some other guy”.
Your eyebrows furrowed together, little moans coming out of you as being stuffed with his dick made you go dumb in the head.
“—Yoongi—ngggh—! Move!”
He lifts your hips higher, pressing the small of your back to get you to arch your back more. He leans over you, his pelvis pressed against your ass, making you feel his dick even further in you, causing you to let out a swear. He leaves gentle kisses on the back of your naked shoulder.
“Say please,” he mumbles into your skin.
“F—fuck, Yoongi!” You grumble, annoyed at his words.
He waits patiently, letting his silence and your soft whimpers fill the air. The man couldn’t care less if he had to stay in the position for hours—he loved the feeling of your soft, warm, and wet pussy pulsating around him. 
And with that, you knew you couldn’t win.
 “—Please—!” You cry out. 
“Remind me who I am again.”
“—boyfriend!” You quickly spat out, desperate for him to move already.
“You gonna be a good girl for me again?”
You’re quick to nod your head ‘yes’.
He grins at your response, happy with how easy he can get you to be submissive when you’re full of his cock.
“Now was that so hard to do, princess?”
He’s pulling out, just the tip barely in you.
“…annoying,” you mumble under your breath.
He slams himself into you again, causing you to moan out his name.
“Yeah? I’m annoying too, huh? A big mean, annoying boyfriend, right?”  His voice was low and gravelly.
He starts to find a rhythm and pace as he starts to pound your pussy. Snapping his hips to make sure his skin hits against yours as loud and as hard as he can, the noises filling the room and the skin of your ass slowly turning a shade of red.
He’s searching for your dildo that was thrown somewhere nearby. Once he finds it, he’s immediately taking it. He leans over you as he fucks you, placing the dildo in front of you. Yoongi halts his movements, removing himself from you.
“Yoongi~,” you whine, swaying your ass side to side. You push your hips back, trying to find him so you could reconnect again.
God, this view—this scenario. It’s all he could easily get used to.
“C’mon, baby you can’t be doing that to me,” he slightly groans, “you’re driving me crazy.”
“Please,” you mumble, bringing your hands behind you. You place one hand on the sides of your ass, gently spreading it apart so that Yoongi has a better view of your weeping hole. You turn your head to look back at him as you hold yourself in this position, swaying your ass side to side. “Please go crazy and fuck me already, Yoongi.”
What a fucking invite.
“Fuck,” he hissed, running his hand through his wet hair. He could feel all the blood in his body rushing to his cock, making him painfully harder. His mind went damn blank just from hearing you say that while being in such a pornographic position. 
You seriously knew how to turn him on. 
How fucking dangerous.
He’s bringing himself closer to you, rubbing his erect cock in between your ass, allowing it to slide back and forth. It gets you impatient, causing you to wiggle your ass again as he continues with his movements.
“Be a good girl and keep that dildo in your mouth while I fuck you, alright princess?” He gives the side of your ass another gentle slap as a form of encouragement.
Yoongi patiently waits for you to start bobbing your head, along with the vulgar slurping noises you obnoxiously made.
Did you really enjoy having that dildo inside your mouth when he was right behind you?
He mentally scoffs out of jealousy, knowing that he shouldn’t be feeling this way at all. 
You became louder with your muffled moans once Yoongi was inside of you again, making those dumb thoughts disappear. The view of you being filled up both way clearly made him way too hard—he was instantly fucking you at a brutal pace, almost as if he hasn’t touched you in ages.
He’s rougher this time; using one hand to gather your hair and make a makeshift ponytail just to wrap it around his hand to help you guide your head along your dildo while the other free hand is gripping the side of your ass as he fucked you from behind.
“You’re so fucking good, baby. Sucking on your dildo while I fuck you senseless, just like a pretty little slut you are.” 
His thrusts had more force to them, your skin turning redder than before. He wanted to demolish you, make you melt underneath him. All you could do was hum into your dildo in pleasure, holding onto the base for dear life. You could feel tears threatening to spill out of your eyes whenever your dildo would reach deeper in your throat, causing you to gag on it. Of course, Yoongi thought all of this was sexy. God, it was fucking sexy.
He found that one spot again that has your mind spinning. The man angles himself so that he kept hitting that spot over and over again.
You immediately pull away from your dildo, drool escaping from the sides of your mouth.
“Y-yoongi—!” You yelped, your hands let go of the dildo after you toss it to the side, now gripping onto the sheets.
He releases his grip on your hair, moving his hand to the front of your neck to pull you up and your back arched against him, changing the position again. The other hand around your waist to keep you steady.
Yoongi brings the side of his head to yours.
“Not gonna let you get away from me,” his gravely voice whispers against your ear—and god did that send tingles down your spine.
The pressure of his hand around your neck was pleasurable enough to keep you lightheaded. However that hand goes to toy with your breasts, fiddling with piercing and pinching your nipple before taking a big handful of your breast to massage it as he fucked you.
He finally brings his hand to your front, pressing his two fingers against your swollen and sensitive bead. You feel your hips twitch, unable to control your body movements. All you could feel in this moment was how hard the two of your heartbeats were and pure ecstasy. This man knew how to fuck. Scratch that—he knew how to fuck you. He’s already memorized what had you throwing your head back, what’s got you clenching so damn tightly around him, or what has you babbling nonsense just from fucking you a couple times.
“Yoon—gi! Haaah~!” You turn your head to the side and towards him. He brings his face to yours, attacking your lips again before you pull away a moaning mess.
“Fuck—you take me in so goddamn good, baby,” he grunts, “you wanna cum, huh, baby?”
You’re nodding your head, feeling yourself nearly on the brink of losing yourself again. He’s just about bruised your cervix enough and made your damn clit so swollen and sensitive to touch. You knew you were already making a mess around his dick.
He moves his hand away from your breast and around your waist again, embracing you and holding you tightly for what’s yet to come. Your arms hold onto his arm with one of your hands interlocking with his, a gesture that had him feeling like his heart grew 10x in size. He loves you. He’s way too in love with you—head over heels at this point.
If it was even possible, he’s fucking you even harder. Grunting into your ear, telling you how good you are, how damn pretty you are—how fucking perfect you are, practically made just for him. It was all enough for you to finally lose it, and it was the same for him too. He’s groaning in pleasure when he feels your pussy twitching around him. His warm cum coats the inside of your walls before it oozes out when he removes himself. You fall forward and lay against the bed with your arms weakly holding you up. He watches the mixture of your cum slowly dripping out before he takes his two fingers to push it right back in, only for it to slip out again. He’s quick to get the kleenex tissues to wipe you up, letting you have some time to  catch your breath. You’re rolling over to finally lay down on your side, watching the boy walk through the door.
“I went ahead and got the bath running, baby,” he hums, helping you sit back up. He pulls you onto his lap, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple. 
“You’re insane, Yoongi.”
“Am I?” He lazily smiles.
“I really don’t know what possessed you back there.”
He laughs, “Baby, I haven’t had a taste of you like that in so damn long. I couldn’t help it.” 
Before you knew it, he had you relaxing in the bathtub while he cleaned up the room and got it ready with new sheets and all for the two of you to get some rest. 
You could feel Yoongi’s body pressed against your back; his arm sitting across your waist and his head nuzzled against the back of your head. This was all something you had never imagined for yourself—to be lovingly cuddled like this after a long night with your now boyfriend who was an ex “fuckboy” from your school, but it’s definitely something you could get used to. 
You carefully remove yourself from his hold, quickly replacing yourself with one of your pillows. You glance over at him to see his sleeping figure one last time before leaving, and softly scoff with a smile on your face. 
This man is actually very cute when he’s sound asleep.
You quietly pick out some new clothes before tip-toeing away to your bathroom across the hall to get yourself ready for that well-deserved shower.
-
After putting on your clothes, you open the bathroom door, letting all the moisture and heat out. You take the time to gently brush your hair a little more after blow drying it, then applying some hair oil to the ends of it.
“You can’t just leave me like that and expect me to be okay with it.”
Your head quickly turns around to see the mumbling boy, squinting a half-asleep eye at you while using one of their fists to rub one of their other eye. You chuckle at his appearance—his naked torso and his boxers. He stood there in between the door frame, looking like an actual child who just woke up.
“It was just a quick shower, babe.” You turn around to the mirror and continue what you were doing. “I’ll be in the room soon.”
He grunts, making his way towards you as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him and lays his head on top of your shoulder.
“Yoongi~,” you whined with a soft chuckle. 
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s only allowed in bed.”
“Mm, so last night was just it, huh?”
He snorts with a chuckle at your comment, barely having enough energy to react a lot bigger.
“‘One time’ my ass. You’re stuck with me. Not letting you off that easy.”
He turns to your head and presses kisses to your hair. You bring a hand up to gently pat the side of his cheek.
“Congrats on passing the class,” you mumble, “and for finally getting that boyfriend title you’ve been wanting.”
Yoongi turns to look at you with a big smile on his face through the mirror, your hand gently caressing the side of his face. The two of you turn to each other, pressing a small kiss on the lips before pulling away.
“I know a better way you could congratulate me.”
You immediately knew exactly what he was hinting.
“You told me you’d give me whatever I want plus the boyfriend title.”
Fuck—yeah, you did promise that.
You sigh in defeat.
“…Breakfast first?” You bat your eyelashes at him, giving him that doe-eyed look that made his heart flutter like crazy.
He looks at you with so much adoration, in awe that this beautiful girl was finally his. 
-
if you got this far, thank you for the read <3 :)
i hope you enjoyed!! pls check out my other work!
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